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Chapter Text

When Zhongli offered him a job for the millionth time and he finally accepted, Venti never thought that he would have to film his disastrous gourmet experiments so people on the internet can laugh at him. It’s nice, though. His previous job had been as a sous chef in a hole on the wall, and not only were the working hours terrible and he only made slightly above minimum wage, but he had also spent most of his time peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables tucked away in the corner of a busy kitchen between ovens that made him sweat way too much. If he had known that being an International Culinary Center graduate would land him nowhere, he would have saved the tuition money, thank you very much.

Venti pushes the door of the building where the Wanmin headquarters are located with his hip and takes the elevator to the fifth floor. He’s been off for two (very well deserved) weeks, and he won’t admit he’s missed the grumpy squeaky-clean tile floors and the elevator that makes a weird noise when you push any of the buttons.

“Hello, daddy long dick just landed in Liyue!” Venti barges into the kitchen, sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose, ice americano in hand. Xiangling immediately approaches him and throws herself into his arms with a little squeak, blue hair bouncing around and the bell she’s tied to her apron chiming with her movements.

“Welcome back, Venti! Did you do anything interesting?” she asks, arms slung over Venti’s shoulders and cheek pressed to his. Xiangling had joined six months ago when the project had started, just like Venti, and even though she was into a… different type of cuisine than he was, they had clicked immediately.

Thinking back, hiring them both probably wasn’t the best idea if the company wanted to keep a professional and serious image, but their audience seemed to eat up any video they made together, so it’s not like workplace environment mattered much when the views (and the money) started to roll in. Venti cannot help but feel endeared that she’s so excited to see him and hugs her back with the arm that’s not holding his morning coffee.

“Yeah, went back to Mondstadt to visit friends, it was nice. How about you?” She doesn’t need to tell him what shenanigans she’s been up to, really, because Childe will most likely complain about the weird smells and fumes and sounds that have been coming from her worktable as soon as he gets there.

“Made some caramelized lizard tails and asked Childe to try them as a joke…” she leans forward and whispers in his ear, “and he did.”

Venti untangles himself from the other cook and holds both of her hands in his, looking at her in the eyes with a pleading face. “Please, tell me you got it on camera.”

“Of course,” she replies with solemness, and swings their linked hands a bit. “I think it’ll be up this week”.

“You’re a cruel woman, Xiangling,” comes a voice from the door. They both turn and Childe is greeted by two matching shit-eating grins. “Not only I have to deal with two gremlins and an emo kid in my kitchen, but people also make fun of me on the internet for it. Not fair.”

“It’s not your kitchen,” Xiangling retorts and starts walking backwards without showing her back to Childe. Smart move, never take your eyes off your enemies.

“You are aware that I’m technically your boss, right?” Childe answers, hands crossed in front of his chest and an eyebrow raised in question.

“Technically,” Xiangling air quotes with her fingers, doing a little shimmy with her shoulders that any sane person in the world would find exasperating.

“What are you going to do, technically fire us?” it’s Venti’s turn to chime in and Childe doesn’t honor him with a response. Instead, he chooses to ignore them, close his eyes, and take a deep breath before his instincts give in and he dropkicks them both. He unceremoniously tosses his jacket and backpack on his worktable and disappears behind the door that leads to the walk-in fridge and the storage room, probably to have a good scream.

Venti walks to the end of the room and dumps all his stuff on his workstation. His spot is the one closest to the table they use to film, and he would argue that it’s the best one. Not only because he’s aware of everything that everybody is filming and can chime in whenever he feels like it, but also because the view from his station is the best one.

The right side of the room is completely covered in windows, and Venti’s spot is the only one who directly faces the ocean without any tall buildings covering the view. Sometimes he sits and watches the sunset when everybody else has left for the day and it’s just him in the kitchen. It’s peaceful, even if the city is bustling under him and he can hear the noise of cars and people roaming about their day.

Opposite to the windows, the left side of the room has what seem to be way too many ovens and stoves for only four chefs. The workstations are sitting in the middle, four to actually work and one to film, and someone who has watched any of their videos could easily tell which one belongs to whom just by how clean or messy they are.

Just when Venti is fishing a notebook from his backpack to start recipe planning for the week, he hears someone come into the kitchen. He turns to say hi, but the greeting dies on his lips when his eyes land on Xiao. He’s wearing a half-opened black shirt and his hair, normally covering half his face, is tied up in a messy ponytail.

Xiao is the latest addition to the team, and in the beginning, Venti had wondered why he was the one the higher-ups had picked. He’s a wonderful pastry chef, no doubt, but a big part of the job in the Test Kitchen entails being in front of a camera and producing content that people want to watch, and for the first weeks that Xiao was on the job he clearly had a miserable time talking to the lens. However, at due time, Venti understood – Xiao was picked because he’s the calm and collected personality that their team was lacking.

Xiangling and Venti proud themselves on many things but being levelheaded and good at problem-solving isn’t one of them. And even if Childe wants to call himself the only braincell of the team, he easily crumbles down under pressure. When it comes to having innovative ideas to use gadgets, finding a solution after the fiftieth failed recipe test, or keeping his cool when Xiangling accidentally set a kitchen towel on fire and the sprinklers went off, Xiao is the one to rely on.

And god, he’s pretty. Venti is not too sure if it’s the sharp features, the perennial judging amber eyes or the jade tattoo covering his right arm, but there’s something about Xiao’s presence that draws him in.

Venti coughs a little to cover up the fact that he’s not immune to Xiao’s presence even if they’ve been seeing each other five days a week for months. And because he doesn’t trust his voice, he waves at Xiao with a big smile and receives a head nod in return.

---

“Hello everyone, I’m Xiao from the Wanmin Test Kitchen and today we’re making gourmet tater tots.” Venti has been scribbling recipes ideas for the past half an hour, but takes his earbuds off and raises his eyes to look at the other cook when he starts filming. He cannot help but chuckle, Xiao is still incredibly awkward in front of a camera even after months of working there and it’s honestly endearing.

Xiao is going over pommes paillasson and the problem with oxidizing potatoes looking like old porridge and how he has figured out that he could use an apple corer to get the tater tots to the perfect shape when Venti briefly makes eye contact with Xinyan, the camera operator, who gives him a wink and gestures for him to go over to Xiao’s table. He rises an eyebrow at her, but only receives a small shoulder shrug before she focuses again.

Because he really has nothing better to do with his time (and because he enjoys being a nuisance), Venti skips to Xiao’s worktable and looks over his shoulder to check what he’s doing. “Hey Xiao, you need help?”

Xiao almost jumps and turns around quickly, hitting Venti with a wooden spoon he wasn’t holding a moment ago. “You scared the shit out of me.” Venti almost feels bad for startling the other cook, but Xiao is scowling at him, so he decides to give him a shit-eating grin and shrug his shoulders. “You could help me peel potatoes; it’s going to take forever.”

And alas, there’s a mountain of potatoes waiting for them on the table. Venti mutters a quiet “Sure” and places himself next to Xiao, resting his hands on the worktable and looking around. Xiao has both the ingredients and the handwritten recipe on his table, and Venti has to admire the dedication. Usually, he just wings it.

There’s a brief pause while Xiao searches for some utensils they can use, and not being someone acquainted with comfortable silence, Venti starts talking about whatever comes to his mind first. “You know? I’ve been reading the comments on your videos lately. You need to start giving people what they want.”

“Hm.” Xiao is rummaging to the drawers searching for a second potato peeler and clearly not paying attention, but he tries to humor Venti even if it’s just for the camera. “And what do they want?”

“You.” Venti raises his eyes and makes finger guns at Xiao, but the other just shakes his head, sighs, and keeps on rummaging. It takes Venti a second too long to take his eyes off Xiao’s side profile because fuck he shouldn't be allowed to be that gorgeous, and he prays to all gods that the camera hasn’t picked it up or people will point it out (again).

“I don’t know what kind of answer I expected from you,” Xiao says after a few seconds, taking a knife and closing the drawer with his hip. He hands Venti the potato peeler and takes the knife for himself, starting to work with meticulous care.

“It’s not my fault that you have a simp following.” Venti complains, and Xiao looks like he regrets every single life decision that has led him to that moment. “I have an idea!” Venti ignores the internal turmoil the other man is going through and lifts his eyes from his potato, pointing his peeler to the camera with way too much enthusiasm. “If you guys get this video to five million views, I will get Xiao to get his shirt off on camera.”

There’s a brief silence and Venti can hear Xiangling snickering from the other side of the room. Xiao just looks more and more mortified by the second. “I’m not doing that,” he mutters.

“Oh, you will. I can be very persuasive.” Venti winks to the camera and goes back to his potatoes. “I don’t know if you guys are aware, but Xiao goes to the gym every day... Sometimes when he knows he doesn’t have to be on camera he comes directly from it all sweaty and stuff. It’s kinda hot.” Venti is aware that he’s testing his luck there because Xiao does go to the gym and if Venti were to get punched in the face for overstepping boundaries it would certainly hurt. “I’m sure there are some rock-hard abs under his tsundere disguise.”

Xiao sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like he can feel a headache forming just by being stood next to Venti. “I’m holding a knife, I would be more careful with my words if I were you.”

“Please, Xiao, you’re not going to hurt me while we’re filming, you’re smarter than that.”

“Bet.” Xiao picks up the wooden spoon and bonks Venti in the head again with force enough that he has to bring up a hand and soothe the place where he’s been hit.

“Bonk,” Venti pouts and furrows his eyebrows, and he can’t help to finish the phrase. “Go to horny jail”.

Xiao looks at him for a second, amber eyes widening and mouth opening and closing a few times with no sound coming out of it. Even though he tries to hide it, the cook huffs a small laugh and turns to the camera, pointing the knife at it like Venti had pointed his peeler just a few minutes before “I have a better idea,” he says directly to the lens. “Get this video to one view and I will deck Venti in the fucking face.”

---

“When are you going to do something about him?” Childe points to Xiao with his chin and Venti rises his eyebrows. Their lunch break is almost over, and it’s just the two of them in the small kitchenette adjacent to the main kitchen. There’s not many people working on the Test Kitchen project, so they only have two tables with a few chairs each, two microwaves that reek of overheated spaghetti tupperwares and a small sofa that chefs (Venti) use to take naps when they come to work hungover. Through the glass that separates the main kitchen from the breakroom, they can see Xiao and Xiangling bustling around, and Venti has been having a really hard time trying not to stare.

Venti blows on the cup of tea he’s holding, eyes still fixed on Xiao, before replying. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, man…” Childe lays back on his chair, arms behind his head, eyes trailing back and forth from Venti to Xiao. “Ask him out. You look like you’re about to get on your knees every time he’s around.”

Venti sighs dreamily and takes his eyes off Xiao to direct them to Childe, who’s now looking at him with both of his eyebrows raised in question. “He’s so hot,” he whines, and Childe just snorts as a response. He takes a sip before he speaks again, “Don’t you think it would make the dynamic in the kitchen weird?”

“I don’t care,” Childe replies way too quickly and it’s Venti’s turn to rise his eyebrows. The other man just shrugs. “Anything as long as I don’t have to see you pine for another four months.”

“I’m not pining?”

“Yeah, of course you’re not,” Childe concedes, voice dripping with sarcasm, and Venti has to gather up all his patience not to smack him with the Hello Kitty mug he’s holding. “You give him heart eyes just because.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Venti knows what Childe is talking about, and he knows he’s being deliberately dense. But he’s a firm believer that feelings are not there if you decide not to think about them, so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He doesn’t want to overcomplicate things.

Childe sighs in defeat and leans forward to rest his arms on the table. “Just give it a thought.”

“I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Venti loudly slurps his tea just to spite Childe and takes a moment too long to reply. “No, I won’t.”

Chapter Text

Venti is about to lose his mind. He’s been filming for the same kitkat recipe for the entire morning, but instead of improving it, he’s getting worse and worse results every time he tries. His desperation must be showing because he doesn’t even need to ask Childe and Xiao for help, they offer it themselves with a compassionate tone and a little pat on the back. Childe has already taken a bite and his hand is resting on his hip, the other one tapping on his chin in a thoughtful manner. He pauses for a few seconds before speaking, “Hm. That’s okay.”

“Thank you very much for your in-depth feedback, Childe. Xiao?”

“The wafer is way too thick, and the texture is off. Did you temper the chocolate?” Venti shakes his head, and Xiao scrunches his nose with a displeased hum. Venti can feel the judgement in his eyes, and for some reason he feels an urge to do better. “I can tell. This is really not it, start over.”

He was expecting that kind of reaction because, truly, he’s been winging the recipe, but Venti thuds his head against his workstation in defeat and lays it there for a full minute before taking a deep breath, raising his eyes and finally replying, “Will do. Thanks.”

“I think it’s the first time in my life that I’ve seen Venti be this compliant,” Childe snickers, taking another kitkat piece and stuffing it in his mouth. So much for a thick wafer and un-tempered chocolate.

Venti stands straight and stretches his arms over his head trying in vain to undo the knots in his back. He really needs to stop hunching. “I mean, Xiao is the pastry chef here, he knows more about this kind of thing than I do.”

“Venti doesn’t know that he has to temper the chocolate because he specializes on Mondstadt cuisine, you guys,” Xiao flatly says to the camera, letting his wrist go limp in a way that clearly screams Venti mannerism. Venti opens his mouth in mock offense because, okay, rude. “He can take a raccoon that was rolling in garbage a few minutes ago, fill it with triple X liquor and roast it over an open fire made in a trashcan. Delicious.”

“Hey!” Venti grabs a kitchen towel and reaches over Childe to hit Xiao with it, but he misses miserably, and the pastry chef sticks his tongue out. It does things to Venti’s heart that he chooses to ignore. “That was uncalled for!”

“It’s still true,” Xiao retorts and he maybe has a point.

“Mondstadt has really nice dishes, okay? You just have never tried one that you liked.”

“You fed me that fishermen toast once and I gagged.”

“Excuse me, fishermen toast is an after-school snack staple, and I won’t tolerate this disrespect.”

“Okay, okay,” Childe intervenes, clapping them both in the back and looking at the camera like he can’t stand being around them for one more second. “I don’t pay you to bicker.”

“You’re not the one who pays us period,” Venti teases, and he can feel Childe’s hand go from his back to his neck and squeeze it threateningly.

“Get back to work,” Childe says with a voice that doesn’t allow ifs ands or buts. Before he heads back to his workstation, he looks directly at Venti and speaks again, “Xiao, be a real one and help Venti out before he ends up having a breakdown again.”

“Sure,” Xiao agrees, and is completely oblivious to the stink eye that Venti is giving Childe. There’s a small pause in which he grabs one of the very few pieces of kitkat that Childe hasn’t engulfed, and he separates the layers to check the consistency. He has this look of determination in his eyes like he always does when he’s faced with a challenge, and Venti can almost hear the cogs going in his brain. “Have you used the stroopwafel press to make the wafers?”

“...I didn’t know we had one? I just took the bottom of two springform pans, put the batter in the middle and baked it.”

Xiao furrows his eyebrows in confusion and opens his mouth to reply but closes it and gives his words a second thought. “Okay, show me,” he finally asks.

“So, you take the bottoms,” Venti starts his demonstration and takes the two pans he had been using for his experiment, showing them to Xiao with an exaggerated flourish of his hand. “You put the batter in one of them, put the other pan on top…” and so he does, scooping a spoonful, dropping it without care and squishing it with the second pan. “And…” Once he takes the cast iron skillet to put it on top of the pans and flatten the batter before tucking it into the oven, he realizes that what he’s doing is incredibly stupid and stops in his tracks. “Okay, I can explain my train of thought, I–”

“Venti,” Xiao interrupts, putting his hand on top of Venti’s to stop him from speaking ten thousand miles an hour, and it kind of works. Instead of trying to justify himself, Venti’s mind goes completely blank and he retorts to his basic brain functions. For a moment there, the only thing that crosses his mind is ‘Xiao hand warm, Xiao hand soft’, but he manages to snap himself out of it and turns to look at Xiao with a pout. Even though the pastry chef’s body language screams desperation, Venti can see a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Can I ask you a genuine question?”

Venti wasn’t expecting that, but he shrugs, “Go ahead.”

“Are you dumb?”

---

“Okay,” Venti sighs to the camera and he can see the defeat oozing from him in waves. He’s aware that his braids are undone, his black apron is almost entirely white because of the amounts of flour clinging to it, and he has a streak of chocolate on his cheek. He doesn’t care anymore. “Kitkats are setting in the fridge. This is the fifteenth trial. If it doesn’t work, I’m giving up.”

“No, you’re not,” Xiao half-shouts from the other side of the kitchen.

Venti doesn’t even bother to turn around to answer, “I admire your resilience, but yes I am.”

He takes the ten minutes the chocolate needs to set to tidy himself up. They normally use really fancy black aprons with the company logo and their name embroidered but all of his are in the wash, so he has to settle for one that Childe bought him as a joke. It’s a very unpleasing shade of maroon and there’s text in the front that says, ‘Of course size matters, no one wants a small glass of wine’. Venti scrunches his nose in disgust but ties it around his waist anyways. Instead of making his two characteristic side braids, he decides to grab the headband he has in his backpack and push his hair out of his face for once in his life. He feels slightly self-conscious about it, but he must look put together because Childe wolf-whistles at him, and Venti meets the gesture with a delicate raise of his middle finger.

After the tenth test, Venti had almost completely given up and let Xiao take the lead and decide what ingredients and techniques to use. If the recipe is a success it’s almost exclusively because of Xiao, so when the timer goes off, Venti takes the kitkats out of the fridge and calls him over. He grabs two of the rolling chairs they have around the kitchen and they sit down.

Venti knows he’s being dramatic, but he can’t help pouting and sighing deeply. He snaps one of the pieces and shoves it whole in his mouth without much thought. The last chocolate layer is still too thick and it’s slightly too sweet, but it tastes way better than the other failed attempts. “I think it’s delicious, but I want you to know that I cannot accept any kind of criticism right now,” Venti warns with his mouth full when he sees Xiao reach his hand to get a piece for himself.

The chef just rolls his eyes and snaps the piece in half, checking the layers of wafer and chocolate with an expert eye. It’s kind of fascinating, seeing him put his chef persona on and be so analytical of something so small as some melted chocolate and wafer. Xiao usually has a calm demeanor, but it specially shows up when he’s in his element and he knows exactly what he’s doing. Instead of eating all at once like a caveman, he takes a bite and leaves it in his mouth for a moment. He tilts his head to the side and Venti tries to hide the fact that his heart is doing a triple summersault inside his chest because fuck that’s cute. “It’s very good, well done.”

Venti releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding and slumps forward into the worktable, resting his head in one of his outstretched arms. “I don’t want to see another kitkat in my life.” Xiao brings his fist up, and it takes Venti a moment to know what he’s doing, but he rises his hand too and they fist bump. It’s the most heterosexual thing Venti’s ever done with a man he’s attracted to. “Thanks a lot Xiao, if you weren’t here, I would have given up ages ago.”

“No problem.”

Venti turns to face the camera, but he looks at Xiao sideways. “Besides being dashingly handsome, Xiao carries this magic within his soul that makes everything possible by sheer force of will. We all should aspire to be a little bit like him.” Xiao just rolls his eyes and turns around to go back to his table, and Venti must be going insane, because he could swear that the other chef's ears have gone completely red.

---

“Everybody,” Childe calls, and the other three cooks rise their heads simultaneously. “Meeting time.”

“Yes, chef!”

Like little duckies, Xiangling, Xiao and Venti follow Childe into the elevator and to the top floor of the building, where the offices are located. Even though it’s the same space and it belongs to the same company, Venti always feels out of place when he’s up there – he’s used to ovens and utensils and flour everywhere, and the giant room filled with desks and the paperwork covering every available surface makes him feel uneasy.

The dichotomy between the four chefs looking like a mess after spending most of the day in the kitchen (Xiangling is still wearing her apron) and the two suited-up figures waiting for them in the big meeting room is honestly baffling. Venti doesn’t understand why they dress up so nicely if they’re going to be stuck in an office all day. Having not worked in an office a single day in his life, business conventions are totally lost on him.

Childe opens the glass door to the meeting room and, even though he’s standing behind the taller man, Venti can see how he immediately chirps up when he sees Zhongli. He painstakingly remembers how long it had taken for Zhongli to pay Childe any mind, and how Venti had tried (in vain) to play matchmaker – it took them some time but they got there. They’re two sides of the same idiot, and Venti is incredibly happy that they’ve found each other.

“Hello everybody, thank you for coming,” Zhongli politely greets them, and Venti can’t help but snort. He’s known Zhongli for as long as he can remember, and it’s always weird to have to talk to each other like they haven’t seen each other at their absolute lowest. “Please take a seat.”

Ningguang sits next to Zhongli and gives them a small smile, and even though the gesture is polite, Venti finds it intimidating. He’s always been a bit scared of her, she’s the type of person that knows what she wants and how she wants it, and she wouldn’t hesitate to tell you off to your face if she deems it necessary. Still, Venti thanks the gods for her every day. If it weren’t for Ningguang immaculate business planning, Zhongli and Childe would have probably never decided to bite the bullet and start the Test Kitchen project and Venti would be either jobless or exploited.

It’s immediately obvious who takes the meeting seriously and who doesn’t when Childe and Xiao whip out a laptop each, ready to take notes of important information and deadlines. The Test Kitchen is Childe’s passion project, and it’s clear to see that he cares a lot about it. In the beginning, Venti thought that it was just a marketing tactic to make some content online and attract attention to the brand, but he’s noticed throughout the months he’s been in the kitchen that there’s an enormous amount of trust put into them, and Childe would the one to answer for them if anything went wrong. They make silly videos, yes, but the four of them are also responsible for creating new recipes and testing them before they’re added to the menu of any of the Wanmin Restaurant branches scattered around Teyvat.

At first glance, it might seem that Childe picked the other chefs because of nepotism and not talent, but he’s been incredibly smart about his choices. All of them have a very good grasp of Liyuean cuisine which, at the end of the day, is the restaurant’s main attractive. But, individually, they can bring something different to the table – Venti and Childe are foreigners and, as such, accustomed to bending recipes and using non-traditional ingredients to make do with what they have around, which is perfect for the branches that might not be able to import produce from Liyue all year long. Xiao studied pastry arts in Fontaine and is a master at creating the most detailed and refined recipes for desserts. And Xiangling has the power to create a different flavor profile and add something unique and innovative to everything she makes, doesn’t matter if she’s working with the most common of Liyue’s dishes. 

Ningguang goes over the budget, explaining the earnings of the videos they had made and how that money is going to be either invested back into the project or used in other way inside the company. They talk about bulk buying ingredients, kitchen utensils they need, sponsorships and possible collaborations with brands, and Venti tries really hard not to block out everything. It’s a struggle because it’s all number talk, and he barely knows how to count.

He tries to pay more attention when Zhongli starts talking about deadlines. They have a few months until winter arrives, so they have quite some time to work on a few new menu items that use winter ingredients. Last time, they were given individual projects to work on, but this time around Zhongli asks them to work in whichever way they please, alone, in pairs, all together. He argues that collaborating and bouncing ideas off each other can make things work more smoothly. Venti can tell that Zhongli doesn’t actually spend a lot of time in the kitchen, because the four of them working together could bring ideas, but it most definitely wouldn’t make things ‘smoother’.

“Venti, Xiao.” He raises his eyes when Ningguang calls his name. She’s looking at her laptop screen and takes a paper out of her very professional black folder. “The ‘One of everything’ episode Childe and Xiangling made was really well received, we thought you could make one too.”

Venti nods and tries to hide his excitement. He had been jealous of Xiangling and Childe when they had told him the new video idea basically consisted of picking a restaurant, trying out everything in the menu, and then using their ‘chef knowledge’ to rank it. Xiangling had suggested one of Liyue’s most expensive and exclusive restaurant as a joke, but Zhongli had given them the green light and with Childe’s connections, they managed bypass the three-month waiting list and book a table with no hassle. What truly hurt Venti was that they were allowed to take the leftovers of the 19-course tasting menu home, so he had to see the two chefs bring incredibly lavish meals to work for a week while he was stuck with his reheated egg fried rice.

“We have a few ideas ready for you, but feel free to pick a different restaurant or location.” Ningguang places a sheet of paper in front of Venti, and she really undersold the idea of ‘a few’. There must be at least a hundred restaurants listed. “Please let us know which one you would like before Tuesday next week so we can arrange it.”

Both Xiao and Venti mutter some kind of agreement under their breaths and with that, the meeting is over. Ningguang excuses herself and leaves to attend some other business, but the others stay behind in the meeting room. Venti uses the office chair to wheel himself to the other side of the table, where Xiao is sitting, and hands him the list of restaurants Ningguang has offered. “What do you think?”

Xiao takes a moment to scan the page. “I really like this one, but I might be biased,” he points to one of the restaurants located in Jueyun in the list and Venti hums, taking some time to think about it. He’s been there a few times because it’s Zhongli’s hometown and, unless he has gotten it completely wrong, it’s Xiao’s as well. “It’s not fancy like the one Xiangling and Childe chose, though. It’s a small-town restaurant, I used to go there with my friends almost every weekend during high school.” For some reason, his voice grows softer and he sounds like he’s trying to justify himself, and Venti finds it oddly cute. Xiao taps a few things in his laptop and turns the screen to Venti, where he can see the search page for the restaurant – there are a few pictures from review pages, but the restaurant itself doesn’t even have a website. It’s a teeny tiny family-owned eatery tucked away in the corner of what seems a busy street, and the food looks absolutely delicious. “But it’s okay if you prefer to go somewhere else.”

Xiao is trying to look unbothered, but Venti pays way too much attention not to notice that he’s shifting his weight nervously. To be fair, Venti would eat mud in a hole in the wall if that meant that he could make Xiao happy, “Let’s go to that one, then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. And you can show me around afterwards.” And just by the way Xiao’s eyes light up and he gives him a small smile, Venti knows he’s made the right choice.

Chapter Text

It’s too early for Venti to feel like real person. He has grown accustomed to show up in the kitchen at 10am without anyone batting an eye as long as he gets his stuff done and he’s on time for filming, so having to meet Xiao at 8am to start the three-hour drive to Jueyun bright and early makes him feel like he’s been run over by a truck. He tells himself he’s tired because it’s way too early and not because he’s spent the whole night tossing and turning. It’s absolutely not because they’ve decided to spend the night in Jueyun so they can explore after filming and the prospect of spending so much time alone with the other cook makes him nervous. Not at all.

Obviously, Xiao is already waiting for him leaning against the wall and looking too ethereal for Venti’s liking. There’s something in the way that Xiao carries himself, the way that he looks like he isn’t even trying, that makes Venti’s heart clench in his chest. Xiao is literally… just standing there, tapping away on his phone with a slight frown, sunglasses perched on his head pushing his hair back, but the way that he’s practically glowing under the early morning sun makes Venti want to pick up a pen and write several sonnets. Shall I compare thee to a summers’ day? or whatever.

“Morning,” Venti greets like he isn’t having an internal monologue about how pretty Xiao is. “Have you been waiting for long?”

“No, don’t worry.” Xiao pushes himself off the wall and grabs the bag that was resting between his legs. “I just came a bit early so Childe could give me the keys. Let’s go?”

Venti nods and lets himself be led to the car that the company has provided for them – he knows nothing about cars, really, but he can recognize expensive when he sees it. Venti leaves Xiao with the arduous task of putting their bags on the trunk while he makes himself comfortable, sinking into the seat and putting his feet up on the dashboard. As soon as he opens the door, Xiao gives him a nasty look. “Feet off the dashboard.”

“It’s not your car.”

Seeing that he’s being completely ignored, Xiao reaches a hand and slaps Venti’s shins to bring him down to a normal seated position. “I said feet off the dashboard.”

“Uh manhandling, I like that.”

Xiao’s eyeroll gets interrupted by the sound of Venti’s obnoxious ring tone. The name “CEO daddy” shows up in the screen and if Xiao sees it, he makes a point of not mentioning it. Venti picks up and sets the phone to speaker, placing it in between them so Xiao can hear.

“Hey, I’m with Xiao on speaker, please don’t say anything weird.”

“Why would I do that?” There’s a small silence that says ‘Why wouldn’t you?’, but Zhongli seems to choose to ignore it. “Has Childe given you the address of the apartment you’ll be staying at?”

Xiao takes a moment to think before replying, “...no. He just gave me the keys. Is he there?” There’s ruffling and shuffling at the other end of the line, and Childe greets them good morning with a voice too chirpy for the early hour. “Childe, can you hear me? You’re a disaster of a person, I hope you two never have kids or they will be doomed.”

Venti slaps Xiao in the arm with his free hand and tsks at him with a disapproving glance. “Don’t listen to him! I think you’ll be a great papa, Childe, and I can’t wait to become an uncle.”

“Aw Venti, thank you for believing in me.”

“I never said I believed in you.”

“I’m gonna fucking–”

There’s a struggle for a few seconds and Zhongli’s voice comes out from the phone with a tired edge to it. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Great, thank you Mr. CEO. Is the camera crew staying the night too?”

“No, they have some business to attend to tomorrow morning in the city, so they’ll leave after you’re done. I’ve spoken with the restaurant’s staff and they’ve arranged everything, be there around twelve.”

“Okay,” Venti singsongs, “I’ll text you when we get there.”

“Be safe. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, love you too,” Venti replies, voice going a tad softer, and Zhongli hangs up. He can see from the corner of his eye that Xiao has slightly turned to look at him, but he keeps his gaze glued to his phone, feigning nonchalantness. “What?”

“Nothing.” But it doesn’t sound like nothing. Venti is internally debating whether to keep pressing for an answer or drop it, and the sound of his phone pinging is a welcome distraction to his internal turmoil. He has a notification from Childe and, as always, opens it with caution because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s sent something incredibly inappropriate while Venti was in public.

i forgot to tell you

i teased that you guys are filming something together and now #SoTrueXiaoAndVenti is trending

your audience is insane lol

????

what did you even say???

Childe sends him a screenshot, blue checkmark next to the @childe_wanmin handle and a profile picture of Childe menacingly holding a butcher knife.

everybody’s favorite twinks will be filming something special today… are we excited?

Venti doesn’t take offense to being called a twink anymore (he has chosen to wear the name as a badge of honor, really), but he can’t wait until Xiao finds out and chokeslams Childe the next time they see each other. Venti opens the camera app and turns around on his seat, making Xiao the focus. He raises an eyebrow in questioning without taking his eyes off the road. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of you. Childe posted about us filming together today and got us trending. I feel the urgent need to one him up.” Without questioning it, Xiao throws a peace sign and sticks his tongue out for the camera. Venti’s never been too good at taking photos or at anything related to technology for that matter, but he tries his best to frame Xiao perfectly, the early morning harbor serving as a distant background for the picture. He snaps a few photos, changing the focus and trying to make the lightning look good, and gives Xiao a thumbs up when he’s done. Venti switches from his private account that he prays nobody ever hacks into to the verified Wanmin one, types a quick caption and hits send.

road trip with the bestie… stay tuned :P

As soon as he refreshes the page, he gets what must be a hundred replies. Some of them are just nonsensical screaming about how handsome Xiao is and that, Venti understands. But most are questioning his use of the word “bestie”. His audience, showing an incredible drive to be helpful, suggest many alternatives to choose from, ranging from “unrequited crush” to “the guy you’re thirsting after” to “future husband”. Venti hates the internet sometimes.

“I already have more replies than Childe does, love that for us.”

“That’s dedication.”

To that, Venti snorts. "Well, you have a very particular type of audience, Xiao.” The other cook looks slightly confused, so he decides to elaborate. “Half of them watch because they like you, but the other half watch because they’re horny and want to jump your bones. Those tend to be very vocal."

Xiao doesn’t reply immediately, like he’s thinking about his wording, but he finally opens his mouth. Venti kind of wishes he hadn’t. "In which category do you fall?"

"Excuse me?"

"You've told me you watch my stuff so you must match one of those categories, you made them up yourself. I'm just curious to know which one."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Venti refuses to have to choose between ‘I like you’ and ‘I’m horny for you’ – partly because he would rather eat glass than say it out loud, partly because he matches both categories. Xiao doesn’t reply, but he shakes his head in disbelief. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything?”

“But you’re thinking it, and that’s worse. Anyways,” Venti’s voice cracks slightly and Xiao doesn’t point it out, but Venti can see that he’s biting his lower lip trying not to laugh. He would be mad if the gesture weren’t so endearing. “Zhongli sent me the address and the GPS is saying you have to turn right here.”

---

After dropping their bags in an apartment that’s way nicer and way bigger that anything Venti could find in the city, they hurry to the restaurant, where they meet the camera operator and the new sound technician. For some reason, Venti’s feeling nervous and restless, something that he’s never felt filming stuff for Wanmin.

Xiao was right about the restaurant, though. The items in the menu aren’t innovative or revolutionary in any way, they’re the most common staple dishes in Liyue, but they are clearly cooked by someone who has been doing it for decades and has the recipes down to a T. It’s the kind of homemade, locally grown, fresh taste that’s harder and harder to come by in the restaurants in the city, with their busy kitchens and their even busier patrons.

Filming passes through in a blur, and before Venti can realize, they’re done. They help the camera and sound technician load the equipment into the company’s van and bid them farewell like overworked parents saying goodbye to their problem children when they’re going to camp in the summer. Venti stands there awkwardly for a moment, not knowing well what to say or what to do. Even though he’s shared many many hours with Xiao in the kitchen, being with him outside of work feels weird – but not in a bad way. Now that there’s no cameras pointing at his face and capturing his every movement, Xiao seems much more relaxed.

Venti decides to break the silence, “Wanna show me around?” Xiao answers with a small smile and gestures Venti to follow him.

Xiao guides him around town and, for once in his life, Venti just listens. He listens when they walk by a run-down building that Xiao says used to be his middle school and he tells him about being a problem child that was always too feisty for his own good. He used to be the type of kid that would run his mouth and pick fights for no reason, he says, because he had no impulse control. But he’s thankful that he has grown to be a much calmer person. Also, doing martial arts helps re-direct pent-up rage.

He listens when Xiao tells him about winning a scholarship after entering a baking competition as an amateur. He had been working in a local coffee shop for a few years after high school, Xiao explains, and he was in charge of making the desserts and sweets – it started as a burden, but quickly turned into something that he enjoyed and that he felt he was good at. The owner had encouraged him to sign up to the competition and, without his encouragement, he thinks he would have never done it.  But he did, and it landed him in Fontaine, allowing him to become a pastry chef. He went from the comfort and familiarity of his hometown to a foreign country, with no friends or family by his side and a language barrier that made it almost impossible to communicate properly for the first few months. But he managed. And when Venti tells him how impressive that is, Xiao just shrugs, and points out that Venti himself has done almost the same thing. But still.

He listens when Xiao tells him that after spending two years in Fontaine and coming back to Jueyun, nothing was really the same. His friends had left town in search for better opportunities and even his parents had moved to another town in order to take care of elderly family members. So even though he was technically back home, it didn’t feel like it. He stayed there for a while, working as a bakery assistant, but decided to leave after less than a year, making it his mission to find a new place to call home, where he could settle and maybe find a good job that allowed him to start living a bit instead of overworking himself to the bone. And that’s how he ended up in the city, going from job to job until Childe got in contact with him and he signed for Wanmin.

They walk and walk around town and the surrounding area, and even though Xiao bashfully says there’s really nothing interesting to see, Venti gets it. He understands why people who grew up there would always be happy to come back to the mountains and the lakes, to the traditional architecture and the quietness that it’s impossible to enjoy in the city. The sun is setting and the weather is starting to get chilly, but the sky is clear and Venti can’t wait for night to fall so he can see the stars after years of looking up to the polluted skies of the harbor.

Somehow, they end up in a bar in the town’s square – Xiao mentions that a girl from his school used to run it, he’s not so sure now, but he’s always liked the place. The lady tending the bar greets them cheerfully when they enter, and she immediately lights up when she sees Xiao. She’s tall and muscular and is sporting an eyepatch and, if Venti were into women, he would happily let her step on his neck. She almost jumps over the counter and squeezes Xiao in a tight hug, and it’s kind of endearing to see someone as intimidating as Xiao being manhandled by a woman that must be twice his size. Once he’s put down, Xiao beams at her and Venti is aware that the gesture is not directed towards him, but it still makes his legs turn into jelly.

They catch up for a few minutes but the bar lady has some clients to tend to, so she directs them to one of the tables at the far end, where she says they won’t be disturbed (she winks at Venti after she says that and he doesn’t know how to feel about it). They sit down, drinks already in hand and they just talk for hours, about everything and anything. And if Xiao’s words start to get cutely slurred and his ears redden after his second drink, Venti doesn’t point it out.

---

Saying that they stumble into the apartment would be an understatement. It takes Xiao three tries to get the key into the lock, and it takes Venti four to take his shoes off because his balance is completely fucked. It’s getting late and they’re supposed to head back to Liyue relatively early in the morning, but Venti doesn’t think that he’ll be able to sleep anytime soon. He turns to ask Xiao if he’s already heading to bed, but the other is already looking at him with his head slightly tilted to the side, and Venti feels a breath get stuck in his throat. Xiao looks a bit tired, his hair disheveled and his eyes slightly glassy due to one too many drinks, but he’s slightly smiling and Venti still thinks he’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

“Venti,” Xiao’s voice is low, and it feels weirdly intimate. He licks his lips before speaking again and Venti follows the gesture with what he knows is a bit too much intensity in his eyes. “Thanks for today.”

Xiao takes a step forward, and they’re standing so close that Venti could count the freckles on the other man’s face. His throat suddenly goes dry, but he pushes a reply out, “Anytime.” They stand there for a moment, not speaking but looking into each other’s eyes like both of them have something to say. Maybe Venti is being delusional, but a little spark of hope ignites in his chest. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t… There’s only one way to find out. They’re about the same height and they’re standing so close that Venti barely has to lean forward to make their foreheads touch. He closes his eyes, his breath mingling with Xiao’s and his hands resting on the other cook’s waist, touch feather light. He gathers up all the courage he can muster and leans in.

For a second, Venti feels like Xiao is going to lean in too, something in his head telling him that maybe he’s doing what he was supposed to do a long time ago. But that feeling is fleeting – as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he feels a hand against his chest, pushing him back gently. Venti opens his eyes and, despite the alcohol induced haze in his brain and the darkly lit room, he can see Xiao’s gaze still fixed on his, his expression way too apologetic for the gesture to be nothing but rejection.

Xiao lifts his hand from Venti’s chest unsurely and cups the side of his face, an action that doesn’t match the feeling that’s starting to sink in the pit of Venti’s stomach. He says something, but Venti can only hear the blood rushing through his ears. Taking a wobbly step back he breaks eye contact and plants his feet on the floor so he won’t trip now that Xiao’s not there to ground him. “I’m going to bed.” Venti doesn’t wait for a response before making a beeline to his room, hand dragging across the wall to support himself, and closing the door behind him with all the care his not-very-lucid brain allows him to.

Feeling like his life is turning into a low budget romcom, he throws himself on the bed face down, but the pillows feel too suffocating against his face and the darkness makes his head spin in the most unpleasant way. He decides then to sit up, but that doesn’t help with the dizziness or the weight in his chest that he’s not sure is related to the alcohol at all. Head in hands, he massages his temples to release some of the tension, but it doesn’t really work. For some reason, he feels like his brain is telling him to speak up, to say what he really feels out loud because maybe that will help him process it. So he does.

“I’m in love with him,” he whispers, quiet enough that he can barely hear it himself. And the little voice of reason in his brain tells him that it was about time. Because even if things might have started because Xiao is incredibly pretty and Venti is incredibly easily infatuated, it quickly became something more than that. Because when he thinks about Xiao, the first thing that comes to mind isn’t how handsome he is, but rather how every time Venti does something stupid his amber eyes glint with amusement even though he’s wearing a deadpan expression, how he’s always so willing to stop everything he’s doing and help others, how he’s so dedicated and detailed in everything he does, and how even the tiniest of smiles from him can make Venti’s breath get stuck in his throat. He might have tried to convince himself otherwise to avoid getting hurt, but just because he didn’t think about it and didn’t give it a name it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t there. And now he’s messed everything up.

Venti falls back into the bed, arms and legs spread widely, and stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours, his brain replying the day over and over again. When exhaustion catches up with him and he finally falls asleep, he dreams of amber eyes and soft lips.

---

Venti has a small moment of peace between dreams and lucidity before the memories come back to him in floods. He remembers a moment of bravery, a shared breath, and a hand on his chest, pushing him away. He takes a few deep breaths and slowly sits up, feeling a throbbing headache and a mouth that still tastes of alcohol and something else bitter. Previous-night-Venti didn’t have the hindsight to even change into his pajamas, so he decides to first take a shower and then worry about everything else. Clean clothes and a towel hanging from his shoulder, he tiptoes out of his room, trying not to make any noise just in case Xiao is still sleeping. The apartment is eerily silent, Venti can see that Xiao’s bedroom door is open and he’s (thankfully) not there, and he feels his whole body release some of the pent up tension.

Venti takes his sweet time in the shower and it helps, kind of. At least after he’s done showering, he feels less sluggish and he doesn’t stink of sweat and alcohol anymore, which is a bonus. But as soon as he opens the bathroom door to go back to his room, Venti hears the keys rattle and the main door open, and he has to brace himself for a moment he thinks he won’t ever be ready for. As much as he wants to run to his room and hide, he feels glued to the floor, eyes darting everywhere but never landing in Xiao.

There’s a moment of silence and a deep sigh. “Venti, about last night,” Xiao mutters, voice barely above a whisper, and it’s clear that he’s struggling to push the words past his lips. Venti would appreciate the effort if it were any other situation, but at that moment he just wants the other man to stop talking. “Listen, you were drunk and I –”

“Exactly,” he interrupts with too much bite in his voice, and Venti knows he’s being ridiculous and unreasonable and that being rude to Xiao like that is not fair because he hasn’t done anything wrong, but he can’t stop himself. “I was drunk, so let’s forget about it.” His mouth feels like sandpaper and he’s praying that his voice isn’t showing how close he is to losing it. Xiao doesn’t seem convinced and opens his mouth to speak again, but Venti cuts him off, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Xiao hums a small ‘Okay’ as a reply and Venti leaves it at that.

He hears Xiao grab something from a plastic bag, and an energy drink and a sandwich appear before Venti.  He rises his eyes slightly, not enough to make eye contact with Xiao, and takes the offer with unsure hands. Venti feels his stomach turn not because of his massive hangover, but because Xiao is clearly extending and olive branch and Venti’s being too stubborn to take it just because he really doesn’t want to have an honest conversation and be openly rejected. And he hates himself a bit for it.

“We’ll be leaving in 20 minutes,” Xiao says, voice colder than before, and he walks to his room, closing the door behind him without another word. For a moment Venti stands there dumbfoundedly, wondering how he’s managed to fuck up that bad. He takes a shaky breath and heads to his room, feeling thankful that Xiao has shut his bedroom door and he can’t see Venti furiously wiping the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

Chapter Text

After coming back from Jueyun, avoiding Xiao becomes Venti’s routine. It’s not particularly easy because at the end of the day, they work together and their workstations are a mere few feet away. But Venti tries. Instead of having lunch in the breakroom, he goes to a park nearby, and eats his cold meals with the pigeons while he sulks. Instead of chiming in every time Xiao is filming something, he keeps his back to the camera and busies himself with whatever just so he has an excuse to bail out if he’s called over, and he gives the other cook curt and short answers the very few times he's spoken to. He either leaves early or stays in the kitchen after everybody has left just in case he runs into Xiao and they have to share an awkward lift ride.

Childe and Xiangling are not stupid, and so they notice something’s off. Xiangling is kind enough not to mention anything, but she must be aware of the sulkiness radiating off Venti’s body, because she’s extra nice to him – she has tea ready for him every day after lunch, and it’s a blessing because the days are getting colder and colder. Childe is not so subtle, at least not at the beginning. He pries and prods at every chance he gets, but leaves it after he sees that Venti doesn’t want to and won’t give an explanation.

And Xiao… Xiao tried starting up conversation a few times until he noticed Venti would only answer with monosyllabic words. He still pays attention, though. When Venti mentions in passing that he’s craving this or that it would be nice to try that, it miraculously appears on top of his table the next day. Xiangling would hand it to him herself, and Childe would make a point by making it clear that’s he’s going out of his way and being nice, so the only other option is Xiao. Sometimes Venti catches him staring, eyes focused but mind clearly elsewhere, and he wonders what he’s thinking.

---

“Hey Xiangling, can you help me out?” Venti yells out from his station, pointedly looking past Xiao and focusing on the next table over, where Xiangling is very busy looking at her phone instead of making use of the ingredients scattered on her table. “I’m trying a Twix recipe for a video, but I can’t seem to get it right. Could you try it out for me and tell me what you think?”

She rushes over, blue hair bouncing with her steps, and pops a piece of the candy bar in her mouth. Her face immediately sours. Venti lets out a deep sigh and Xiangling laughs a bit, mumbling an apology for the blunt reaction. “It’s a bit soggy.” And the words a bit seem like an understatement. “Maybe it’s the shortbread? I’m not sure.” In the months that they have worked together, Venti has never seen Xiangling bake anything, so it makes sense that she can’t give more in-depth advice. “I’m sorry I cannot give you a better answer.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“You could ask Xiao for help,” she offers with a careful tone, looking at him questioningly. Venti scoffs.

“Or I could not do that.”

Xiao’s wearing headphones like he always does when he’s working on a project by himself, but Xiangling still lowers her voice and leans towards Venti before speaking, “Did you guys fight when you went to Jueyun? It’s been a tense couple of weeks.”

“Well, not really.” He’s fidgeting with one piece of the candy bar between two of his fingers, and the chocolate starts to slightly melt, coating his fingertips – he tempered it from the get-go this time around, and he can feel the difference. He has no manners, so he wipes it in his apron. “I messed up and now things are sort of… awkward.”

Xiangling looks worried but doesn’t press for more details, and Venti is immensely thankful. Talking about the situation might help him, but he doesn’t think that baring his heart to her when Xiao is in the next table over would be a good idea. She sighs and rests her head on Venti’s shoulder, taking his hand into hers and drawing circles with her thumb in a soothing motion. When she speaks her voice, usually loud and cheery, is low and understanding, “I don’t know the whole story, but maybe you should try talking things out. If it goes well, you can be friends again, and if it goes badly… I don’t think it can get worse than it is now.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he says, almost a whisper. And yeah, she has a point. If they talk and can go back to being friends, that would be great. If not, then it’s not likely that it will get more tense than it already is. “Thanks, Xiangling.” She answers by reaching her hand and squishing his cheeks lovingly, and Venti gives her a small smile that he knows doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Even though it’s wide open, there’s a small knock on the frame of the kitchen’s door, and three of the cooks turn around simultaneously, Xiao taking his headphones off and following suit when he sees Xiangling and Venti looking at the same spot. Zhongli is politely standing there, pressed suit and tie and a fancy looking briefcase hanging from his hand. Venti and Xiangling are just chatting, but Xiao is elbows deep in some kind of batter, and Childe is busy gutting fish with a knife that seems too big and too sharp to be held by someone so unhinged. Zhongli looks extremely out of place.

“Hello, everybody,” he greets with a soft smile. He quickly scans the state of the workstations closer to the door and decides it’s worth it to walk to the back to the room to Venti’s table (because it surprisingly is the least messy of them all), where he sets his briefcase and takes out stack of papers.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Childe greets chirpily, walking over to where Zhongli is and leaning in towards him slightly. Zhongli wrinkles his nose because Childe’s apron is nasty and he stinks of fish, but he allows him to give him a small peck. Venti can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in his stomach. “What brings you here?”

“We have to run inventory,” Zhongli announces, and the four cooks groan simultaneously. “It will probably only take one day, so you can do it tomorrow.”

“Probably,” Venti remarks with a sigh and pushes himself up so he’s sitting crisscross on of his workbench. Xiangling follows suit and sits next to him, legs swinging back and forth. Zhongli gives them a pointed look but decides to ignore the comment and not give them the Don’t sit where you prep ingredients talk for the millionth time.

“Here.” He hands them several sheets of paper with a plan of the kitchen and lists of products and gadgets they will need to count one by one and note down. “We’ve divided the floor in three sectors - the storage room, the walk-in fridge and the main kitchen space,” Zhongli explains, pointing at the small kitchen map like he’s teaching advanced math to first graders. “Xiangling and Childe, you will take the main kitchen space; Xiao and Venti, you’re on the storage room. Whoever finishes first has to start on the walk-in fridge.”

Childe is standing in front of him, leaning on Xiao’s table, and Venti can see him take his eyes off the paper and rise his head fast enough to get whiplash. Worry slowly sets in his eyes, so Venti knows this isn’t some type of machination to lock them up in the storage room and make them talk. Childe opens and closes his mouth a few times clearly struggling to find an excuse to switch teams, but probably nothing that doesn’t sound tremendously suspicious comes to mind, so he gives Venti and apologetic look. He appreciates the effort nonetheless.

“Why do we even have to do this?” Childe complains, fanning himself with the printouts Zhongli has just handed them. “There’s only four of us and we’re not even running service, we can just order stuff as we finish it.”

“We need to keep track of what we have and what we need. Someone,” Zhongli pointedly looks at Childe, “has a habit of overspending.”

“Listen–”

“Childe,” Zhongli interrupts, and his tone of voice shows that the other man can complain as much as he wants but the situation won’t change.

“Okay,” Childe sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat. They’re dismissed for the day after Zhongli goes over some of the details so they can rest and start tomorrow fresh, but Venti stays where he is, flipping through the pages absentmindedly while still sitting on his table. Childe stays behind too, and once he makes sure that the coast is clear and nobody is eavesdropping, he starts speaking, “I didn’t know Zhongli wanted us to run inventory, I promise this wasn’t me plotting anything.”

“I know, you’re a dick, but not that much,” Venti answers amusedly, and puts the papers aside. It’s an unusual look for Childe, but he’s chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly worried.

“Do you want me to tell Xiao that we’re switching teams? It’s going to be painfully obvious why, but I don’t want you to have a hard time.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He tries to sound sure of himself, but Childe doesn’t seem convinced.

“Do you want me to punch him in the face, then?” He says with a sickly sweet tone that doesn’t match the type of offer he’s making. “Would that make you feel better?”

“Childe,” Venti whines but he can’t help but chuckle, and the other cook looks slightly proud of himself.

“Really, I’ve got your back, you say the word and I get him fired.” He’s joking, but Venti is sure that if he said he wanted Xiao out, Childe would do it without asking questions even if it got him into legal problems for an unfair dismissal. If that isn’t true loyalty, Venti doesn’t know what is.

“I appreciate the gesture, but there’s no need,” he says, pushing himself off the table and patting Childe on the shoulder with a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just a day, I will be okay.” At this point, he’s trying to convince Childe as much as he’s trying to convince himself.

Chapter Text

It’s bright and early when Venti stumbles into the kitchen, not ready at all to face the day. He’s been rehearsing conversations and comebacks in his head all night, but he doesn’t think he’s even going to use them because one, he’s going to avoid talking to Xiao if he can and two, he’s terrible at confrontation and might start crying if he gets yelled at. Xiangling and Childe are already working inventory on the main space, counting pots and pans and noting them down with a dull demeanor that Venti has never seen in them before. He remembers, not very fondly, the way that he had to do the exact same thing almost every week when he was working in hospitality and prays to the gods that Zhongli doesn’t force them to do it more frequently. Venti will probably quit and totally change career path if he does.

He drops his bag and jacket in a corner of the kitchen and heads to the storage room like he’s a little lamb en route to the slaughterhouse. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, and Xiao is already there, leaning against one of the shelves and absentmindedly doodling in the corner of the printouts Zhongli had given them. They both mumble an unsure ‘Good morning’, and Venti hates it. He hates how before the whole… situation he could have joked around and made the task slightly less tedious, but now he’s stuck in a room with someone he hasn’t properly spoken to in two weeks.

As tense as it is, they fall into a quiet flow – Venti says the name of an ingredient out loud, counts units and Xiao notes it down. If they have to calculate prices and there’s any math involved, Xiao is kind enough to take care of it himself. Venti checks his phone after what feels like days, but only an hour has passed. He sighs and pockets it back, his train of thought interrupted by an annoyed voice.

“Are you really not going to talk to me?” Xiao says, eyes glued to the papers in front of him, and Venti’s too stubborn to answer, so he doesn’t. “So this is the hill you want to die on.” Xiao scoffs, twirling the pen on his hand nervously before gripping it, seemingly trying to stop himself from fidgeting. “Great, be my guest.”

Venti mirrors his scoff and opens his mouth before he can even process what he’s saying. “Wow, someone’s passive-aggressive.”

“I’m the passive aggressive one,” Xiao says, disbelief tinging every single one of his words. He turns around, and Venti feels the sudden urge to reach out and smooth Xiao’s frown with his fingers, but he doesn’t. “Do you at least understand why I’m pissed?”

“Do you at least understand why I don’t want to talk to you?” Venti retorts, and that seems to take Xiao aback.

“Honestly, no. I don’t understand.”

"Well,” Venti shrugs because he really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “That's not my problem."

“Forget it,” Xiao says, voice growing frustrated. For a moment, they go back to the task at hand, but it takes Xiao all of two minutes to set the papers and the pen he was working with on one of the shelves with a thump and turn to face Venti. “You know what? Don’t forget it.” Venti sighs and looks at Xiao from the corner of his eye, not giving him the satisfaction of fully facing him. “You’re being an asshole.” Okay, here we go.

Venti lets out a humorless chuckle and decides that if Xiao wants to do this, they might as well get over with it as soon as possible. “You aren’t Mister Niceness yourself.”

“At least I’m trying to make things right,” Xiao says pointedly.

“There’s nothing to make right.”

“There’s nothing to make right,” Xiao repeats Venti’s words and it’s clear by his tone that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. “But you won’t even look at me and I don’t understand why.”

That makes Venti stop in his tracks and turn around so he’s face to face with the other cook. Xiao looks torn between being  genuinely confused and fucking pissed, and Venti can’t really blame him for being angry. But confused? There’s nothing to be confused about. “You’re joking.”

"Because this is clearly the atmosphere to be joking around.”

"Well, Xiao,” Venti spits, surprising himself at the amount of venom he can muster up to say the other’s name. “I think it's pretty fucking obvious why I don't feel like casually chatting with you."

"Enlighten me, then."

"You're really going to make me say it out loud?" Xiao just stares at him, head tilted, arms crossed and an eyebrow slightly raised in question. "Okay, whatever.” But it’s not okay. And it’s not whatever. “I tried to kiss you while drunk and you pushed me away, is that not enough of a reason?"

Xiao drags a hand across his face like he’s trying to maintain his composure, but it’s not really working. “Are you being obtuse for no particular reason or just to annoy me?”

Venti feels his blood boil and has to take a deep breath before speaking, “Excuse me?”

“I know what happened, I was there. But I want to understand exactly why you’re being like this.” For a split second, Venti wishes Xiao were the type of person to raise his voice and throw insults around, because that would probably be easier to handle than whatever is going on at the moment.

Venti laughs humorlessly because, really, it’s ridiculous that he has to explain himself when the situation is so clear crush, drunk, kiss, rejection. It’s honestly not that hard to follow, he has never taken Xiao to be that emotionally stunted. “Because you rejected me?”

“I told you 'Not tonight, Venti' what does that imply for you?” Wait, what the fuck . Venti wrecks his brain to remember when and if Xiao said something like that, but he doesn’t. Not during That One Night, not the day after, not ever. He’d focus on whether he remembers Xiao saying it or not rather than the implications of the sentence itself because if he does and he misinterprets things again , he’s going to lose the last sliver of sanity he’s been clinging to for the past weeks.

“What are you even talking about?” Venti prays that Xiao can’t see past the fake stubbornness and hear the slight panic in his voice, since he truly has no idea what Xiao is referring to. “You have never told me that.”

Xiao looks confused for a moment and the frown he’s been wearing since the beginning of the conversation falters a bit, but it doesn’t disappear. “I did.”

“When?” Venti reaches to grab one of the boxes at the back of the shelf, just to have something to do with his hands, and he wonders why Childe has ordered so much carrageenan when it’s such an obscure ingredient. He feels his fingers get coated in dust and maybe one or two spiderwebs, but the feeling grounds him. “When we crossed two words the morning after or the following two weeks of not talking?"

“As soon as I pulled away,” Xiao says, and now he sounds and looks one hundred percent confused. “Precisely because I knew you would freak out.”

“Well, I was there and I didn't hear it."

"You're saying I'm lying?” and Xiao’s back to looking pissed off. “Why would I do that?"

"I'm just saying I remember things differently."

"Believe what you want, but if I wanted to make up stuff to play with your head it wouldn’t be that . "

“Whatever.” There’s a moment of silence in which they just stare at each other, but Venti can feel that Xiao’s not done talking yet. The fire in his eyes hasn’t gone off completely, but he leans against the shelf and his shoulders sag, defeated.

"At least I want you to understand…” Xiao starts, a small edge of desperation in his voice, and deep down Venti’s thankful that he’s decided to be the bigger person. “Imagine this was the other way around. I get so drunk I can barely stand up by myself and then I make a move on you, but you have enough of a clear mind to have control over your actions. Wouldn’t you have stopped me?”

“Probably,” Venti concedes. “But if it were the other way around it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m…” in love with you. If you tried to kiss me, it would be a drunken mistake. When I tried to kiss you, it was a manifestation of my deepest feelings is what he wants to say. But he feels like it’s a bit too much taking into account he called Xiao a passive aggressive liar two minutes ago, so he settles for something vague, “I feel some type of way about you.”

“You feel some type of way about me,” Xiao actually chuckles , and Venti has to restrain himself not to hit him over the head with the bucket of agar-agar that’s sitting on the shelf. “That’s a way to put it.”

“If you wanted to talk to me again just to make fun of me you can quit it.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Xiao argues, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. “It wouldn’t be any different, though.” Venti opens his mouth to answer that yes, it would be and please, stop mocking me , but Xiao beats him. “What if I feel some type of way about you too?”

“Oh.” Venti’s desperately trying to act normal, but he’s almost certain that Xiao’s not buying it. His mind goes over Xiao’s words a thousand times, and there’s part of him that thinks that Xiao didn’t mean that and he’s silly for believing he did; while the other part is telling him that yes, Xiao meant what he meant, and there’s little confusion to be had there. Venti can hear himself swallow past the knot forming on his throat, so he’s pretty sure Xiao can too. “Okay,” he mumbles, more to himself than to Xiao and takes a breath that comes off too shaky for his liking. Venti has always been conscious of verbosity being one of his main personality traits, but ‘Okay’ seems to be the most coherent word he can push past his lips. He nervously darts his eyes around the small storage room until they finally land on Xiao, who’s looking back with a mixture of worry and amusement on his face. Venti nods his head more times than he can count, licking his lips to give himself some time to speak again – the fact that Xiao follows the gesture with his eyes doesn’t make things any easier. “Cool.”

“Cool? That’s all you have to say?” It’s not fair that Xiao sounds so calm when Venti is going through the five stages of grief and the nine circles of hell simultaneously in the span of a few seconds.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nervous cough, even if he’s not really sure what to. “Cool.”

Xiao lets out a huff of a laugh and smiles at him, genuine, and Venti can feel his shoulders release some of the tension they were holding. Noticing that Venti’s head is going a thousand miles an hour, Xiao brings up a hand and grazes Venti’s arm carefully with his fingers, like he’s afraid Venti will either run away or break down at any moment. The gesture brings him back to earth and they make eye contact, this time, Venti doesn’t feel like looking away.

“If I had kissed you back,” Xiao says, removing his hand, and Venti immediately misses his touch. “I would have felt like I was taking advantage of you in a vulnerable moment. I asked myself, would sober Venti do this? The answer was no, so I stopped you. Does it make sense?”

“It does,” Venti, as much as it pains him, concedes again , because Xiao is making an awful lot of sense .

“I just… I didn’t understand why you’d push me away like that. I mean, I get it now,” Xiao looks deep in thought, like it’s taking him an incredible amount of effort to verbalize how he’s feeling, but he’s still trying his best. His tone is as gentle as ever, but each of his words feel like a little sword directed at Venti’s heart. “But these past few weeks… I don’t know. I’ve made up so many theories about what happened in my head that I didn’t even know what to believe anymore. I thought maybe you just tried to kiss me because you were horny and I was there, and I had completely misread the situation as something more… serious and freaked you out.” Venti opens his mouth to argue that that’s extremely far-fetched because he’s the one with the months-long crush, but Xiao speaks before he can, “Also, it's hard for me to trust people. And when I opened up to you, told you how lonely it’s been since I left Jueyun and you stopped talking to me after that...” His sentence trails off and Xiao wrinkles his nose and shrugs, trying to downplay it, but Venti can’t be fooled – it must have felt like a slap to the face. He had gotten the whole situation wrong. What had happened was so clear to Venti and he was so caught up in his moping and sulking that he didn’t even think about how Xiao had interpreted it, and how maybe they had very different views of what really had happened. The guilt hits him all at once and he feels his stomach sink.

"Fuck, Xiao.” Venti runs his hands through his hair, not knowing what to say, even though at this point he’s not even sure that there’s anything that he can say to make things better. So he settles for what he thinks is the most important, “I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Xiao says, and even though he’s trying to be nonchalant he sounds hurt. 

"No, it's not okay." For once Venti doesn’t overthink it before he takes a step forward, circling Xiao’s waist with his arms and resting his head in the crook of his neck. It crosses his mind that maybe Xiao doesn’t want him to be that close after he’s been such an insufferable idiot. But the thought is short-lived as he feels Xiao take a shaky breath and melt under his touch, all tension seemingly leaving his body as he brings his arms around Venti’s neck and sinks his fingers in his hair, holding him tight. Xiao faintly smells like qingxin flowers and freshly baked bread, and somehow he’s making Venti feel real and grounded. 

“I’m really sorry,” Venti repeats, and he will do it a thousand more times if necessary. If there’s any point that he can get across, that’s the one he wants to focus on. “Even if there was some miscommunication ,” he does air quotes with his fingers even though he knows Xiao can’t see it. “I was trying to protect myself from getting hurt by shutting you off without an explanation, and that’s not fair. I was too embarrassed to face you, because even if it was a drunken slip that’s…” For someone who has spent most of his life blabbering, it’s ironic that not saying what he feels is what had landed them in a stupid quarrel for way too long, so he voices what he’s thinking, “That’s what I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time. I really like you, Xiao,” his voice is just above a whisper, and Venti’s thankful that Xiao is standing so close that there’s no way that he’s missed it. “And even if I was hurt, even if I thought you had turned me down, that doesn’t excuse how I’ve treated you for the past few weeks. I was too caught up on my own feelings to think about how you must have been feeling.”

“Just promise me,” Xiao says with a soft voice, slightly turning his head and pressing his lips into Venti’s temple, “if something even remotely like this happens again, we’ll talk things out from the get-go.”

“I promise,” Venti immediately answers, and it’s a promise he means to keep. They stand there clinging to each other like they’re each other’s lifeline for a while, until it hits Venti that they’re stuck in the storage room because they have something to do. “I don’t want to let go,” he starts, voice amused, “But if we don’t finish this, Childe is going to kill us.”

Instead of untangling himself from Venti, Xiao just pulls him closer, fingers carefully combing through his hair with a tenderness that makes Venti want to weep. “Let him try.”

---

Things change very slowly after that. Venti thought it would be awkward between them, but he’s happy, for once in his life, to be completely wrong. Of course, they don’t instantly go back to how things were before Jueyun, but Venti tries his best. He waits for Xiao so they can have lunch together, they start to bounce ideas off each other again, be it for videos or for the winter menu deadline that is slowly but surely approaching, they leave together and Xiao walks him to the subway station – it’s the small things. Venti’s a bit worried that Xiao thinks he’s being nice just to atone for his sins and not because he truly wants to make things right, but if he thinks that, he doesn’t mention it.

Again, Childe and Xiangling are not stupid, so they notice something’s changed. Xiangling, as subtle as ever, only points to Xiao with her eyes and gives Venti a questioning look when she sees them casually talking like nothing ever happened. When Venti nods and gives her a thumbs up as a reply, she gives him the biggest hug and doesn’t bring up the topic again.

Childe, on the other hand, is insufferable. Venti would be able to retire if he got 10 mora for each time that Childe has caught him looking at Xiao and has made an obnoxious kissy face his way. Once he’s alone in the kitchen with Childe and he questions him about What did you two do in that storage room that got you back to being so friendly, Venti? There’s food in there, please don’t be nasty, I can book you a hotel room if you want , Venti decides that he would rather eat his own foot than trust Childe with any details about his love life. It’s clear to see that Childe is happy that they’ve talked things out, though. Not only because he doesn’t have to see Venti and Xiao sulking around, but also because the atmosphere in the kitchen has gone back to the relaxed vibe it had before, and it’s much more pleasant to spend so many hours stuck in there when they don’t have to walk on eggshells anymore.

Childe barges into the break room, lunch in hand and apron slung over his shoulder, but he stops in his tracks when he sees Venti and Xiao sharing a table. “Okay, I don’t mean to be nosy,” he starts, and that’s an absolute lie. “But have you two resolved your lover’s quarrel?”

“Yeah,” Xiao hums, munching on the egg tarts that Venti brought him for dessert, and Venti’s heart makes a leap when he doesn’t correct Childe’s use of the word lover .

“Great,” Childe pops his lunch in the microwave and hits the buttons with a bit too much force. He turns back and leans against the counter, crossing his arms with a tired sigh. “Finally people can stop coming up with theories as to why you two haven’t been together in a video for so long.”

Venti had seen the comments, not because he had looked for them, but because people at one point had started to get desperate for answers and were tagging him on their conspiracy theories. From a simple fight to a friendship crumbling down due to workplace competitiveness to a dramatic breakup, people on the internet were making up all kinds of stories trying to explain why the two chefs that had been inseparable for months had not appeared together in a video for so long. Venti understands where the concern comes from and appreciates it, but it was very funny (and quite troubling) to see people miss the mark completely and come up with extravagant ideas.

“I mean, drama creates interest,” Venti argues. “People talked a lot about it, so we’ll get really good views when we post something together.”

Childe gives him a nasty look, takes his lunch and plops himself next to Venti, unceremoniously placing his tupperware on the table. He might be the co-CEO or whatever of a famous restaurant chain, but he brings chicken nuggets and fries for lunch.  Venti finds it slightly offensive. “If the interest comes from you two being dumb and brooding around in my kitchen,” He points at Venti and Xiao with a fry before stuffing it into his mouth. “I don’t want it.”

“Look at you,” Venti coos, reaching out a hand and squishing Childe’s cheek. “You care about us.”

“You know I do,” Childe says like it pains him. “I want you to plan something this evening and get on camera tomorrow.”

“Yes, chef!”

---

They’re aproned up, ingredients and tools ready in front of them and the camera already rolling. For some reason, Venti feels anxious. It’s not a very unusual feeling around Xiao, really, because he’s always felt a little nervous around the pastry chef, but this time around it feels... different. He tries to push it down and focus. “Uh so, hi! I’m Venti from the Wanmin Test Kitchen, this is Xiao.” Venti sees him give a little wave from the corner of his eye. “We haven’t filmed anything together in a while now, but we see your requests so we’re here, no need to worry. Right, Xiao?”

“I guess.”

“As a peace offering, I decided to make–”

“A peace offering for what?” Childe screams from the other side of the kitchen with a mocking tone, Venti only noticing the slip up when he points it out. Even though he’s several heads shorter and severely weaker than him, Venti has the urgent need to ask Childe to meet him outside and have a little bit of a fistfight.

“Uh…” Venti tries to wreck his brain for something that is believable and non-incriminatory, but nothing comes up. So he does what he does best – he deflects. “Yeah, Xiao, a peace offer for what?”

Momentary panic flashes in Xiao’s eyes, and he takes a second too long to reply for whatever he says to sound truthful. “We fought over a woman,” he blurts, and Childe loudly cackles from his station. Even Xiangling, who was just a mere spectator in the chaos, sitting in a corner with her laptop perched on her legs and pudding cup in one hand, lets out a loud ‘Come on, Xiao’.

“Really? You could have said something more believable.”

“I was struggling to come up with an excuse,” Xiao whines, leaning his hands on the table with a sigh. “You should have told me that I needed to prepare one just in case.”

“You know what? Whatever,” Venti sighs and turns around, raising his voice so Childe can hear him. “Childe, you win. You asshole.” The other man just sends him a flying kiss that Venti pretends to catch and stomp with his foot. He turns around to the camera again, and Xiao is giving him a look that says Please don’t overshare . “We fought. We’re not gonna tell you what it was about, but people fight, it’s fine.” He grabs one of the knives resting on the table and nervously swings it around, just to do something with his hands. Xiao sighs and puts a hand on top of his to stop him from flinging the knife across the room and accidentally stabbing someone. “The important thing is to talk things out and solve your problems like adults.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Xiao replies pointedly, but there’s no bite in his voice. Venti turns to look at him and they have a staring contest for a few seconds, accusatory jade eyes versus amused amber.

“Anyways!” Venti says chirpingly, turning back to the camera and pushing Xiao’s face away with his free hand, making him yelp and stumble over his own feet. “I’m going to make Xiao his favorite dessert so he forgives me for being a dick, I have no clue of what I’m doing so he will kindly supervise me.”

Xiao’s voice’s dripping with sarcasm when he speaks, “I love babysitting.”

---

The almond tofu is finished and sitting prettily on a plate before them. Venti has never tried it before, so he doesn’t really know if the consistency or the color are right, but he imagines it might be half decent when Xiao takes a bite of it and he doesn’t immediately spit it out. Or maybe he’s just trying to be nice, who knows. Xiao thinks for a moment, head tilted and eyes casted upwards, and gives a low hum before swallowing. “Not bad for your first try.”

Venti claps and raises his arms to the sky dramatically. “Please, sing my praises, I’m waiting.” He brings one hand to his ear, gesturing Xiao to speak with the other. 

“You’re insufferable, you’re lucky–” Xiao cuts himself off before finishing his sentence and lets out a little uncomfortable cough. Venti gives him a confused look, but the other cook just shrugs almost imperceptibly and quickly changes the topic. “Is there any dessert from Mondstadt that you miss?”

“Have you heard of Spaghettieis?” Xiao shakes his head. “I used to eat it a lot when I was in high school. It’s like… Whipped cream.” He mimics a little plate with his left hand and serves some imaginary whipped cream with his right one, making a sound that tries to imitate the noise the can makes. “Then vanilla ice cream pushed through a Spätzle press... like a potato ricer. And strawberry sauce and shredded coconut on top.” He makes a motion with his fingers that’s supposed to be sprinkles. “It looks like actual spaghetti.”

There are a few seconds of silence, and Venti can see Xiao’s face going from neutral to slightly grossed out as he processes the whole thing. “That sounds terrible.”

Venti grabs his phone from the table without taking his eyes off from Xiao’s face and brings it to his ear. “Hello? Police?” He says, dragging the vowels with a fake-startled tone. “I want to report a case of workplace bullying.” Xiao lets out a small chuckle, and Venti pretends that the fact that he loudly drops his phone on the table is on purpose, and not because seeing Xiao smile kind of makes his whole body stop working properly. “Next time I go back I’m going to take you with me so you can try local stuff and realize how good it is.”

“I doubt that will ever happen,” Xiao shrugs. “But okay.”

Venti rolls his eyes and grabs another piece of almond tofu, letting it melt away in his tongue. “You’re such a hater.”

“I’m not a hater, I’m a concerned citizen.”

“I can’t believe you say that when over here you have century eggs. That must be nasty, being like…” He makes a vague gesture with his hand because he’s not even sure how century eggs are made. “Fermented or whatever for so long.”

“Venti,” Xiao’s tone of voice he always uses when he thinks Venti is being stupid is back. “How much time do you think the eggs are preserved for?” He asks, feigning genuine curiosity. Venti takes a small step back and gives Xiao a careful look because he’s not about to get roasted on the internet for being dumb (again).

“Why do I feel that’s a trap question?”

“Just answer.” Venti frowns because he never really gave it any thought and assumed that yes, indeed, a hundred years sounds reasonable but decides, again, not to answer. Xiao is biting back a laugh when he speaks again, “You don’t actually believe they’re kept for a hundred years, right?”

He grabs one of the kitchen towels lying around and wipes his hands before untying the knot in the back of his apron and leaving it on top of the table with a dramatic sigh. The camera is sitting at the back of the room and almost the whole kitchen is on frame, so the only way to walk out and maintain some of his dignity is going past Childe and Xiangling and towards the door that leads to the elevators, so that’s what he does.

“I quit,” he throws the words over his shoulder and is about to open the door when Childe grabs his arm and drags him back inside the kitchen, so he has to properly face his shame. “Okay, listen to me for a second,” Venti rises his arms up in surrender while he gets dragged in front of the camera again by a very amused Childe. “First of all, I didn’t think–”

“It’s clear you didn’t,” Xiangling pipes up from the corner of the kitchen and okay, ouch . Venti could take the heat from Xiao or Childe, but Xiangling? Sweeter than honey if slightly culinarily unhinged Xiangling? That hurts.

Venti clutches his heart with a pained expression and gives Xiangling the best kicked puppy pout he can come up with, but she just replies with a shit-eating grin. “Everybody in this kitchen is against me,” Venti whines, voice growing at least three pitches higher, and he can hear the three other cooks almost immediately burst into laughter. It’s one of the very few times Venti has seen Xiao laugh wholeheartedly and it’s an extremely good look on him, so he doesn’t even care that it’s at his expense.

---

They have reached this unspoken agreement that, every day after finishing work, they would wait for each other and Xiao would walk Venti to the subway station before heading home himself. Like they’ve been doing for days now, Xiao starts heading for the station, but Venti stops him by grabbing the hood of his sweatshirt and accidentally almost choking him, “I think I won’t take the subway today. I feel like walking.”

“Can I walk you home, then?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be an annoyance,” Venti says, not because he doesn’t want to spend time with the other cook, but because he’s very aware that it’s a half hour walk to his apartment and Xiao lives in the opposite direction.

“You’re an annoyance anyways, so I might as well walk you home,” Xiao says, earning him an offended gasp from Venti. They start walking side by side, falling into a comfortable pace and leaving the big avenue where the kitchen is located and its noisy traffic behind.

Venti really enjoys Xiao’s company even though they don’t say much. Most days, after leaving the kitchen, his head hurts (the mixture of the lights they use for filming and the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen can be killer) and he’s so spent from being on his feet all day that he doesn’t feel like talking, so it’s all good with him. It’s not an awkward kind of quiet – it feels natural, they’re simply keeping each other company without the pressure of having to find a topic to talk about just to fill the silence, and Venti appreciates it.

What Venti has learned since they’ve made up is that he can cling to Xiao’s arm when they’re walking together and he won’t object to it, so he does exactly that. This time around, it’s a little different. Instead of keeping his hand in the crook of Xiao’s elbow he slowly drags it down, hovering over the other’s hand like he needs permission to grab it. Xiao notices what he’s trying to do and gives him a look that says You’re not being slick but holds his hand out anyways. Venti reaches out and links their fingers together, and, weirdly, he doesn’t feel nervous, or self-conscious, or unsure about it. Having Xiao’s hand clasped in his feels like it’s second nature, like something he should have started doing long ago. 

They reach his apartment way too quickly for Venti’s liking, and he’s trying to find something that he can say to make Xiao stay for a little longer. “See you tomorrow,” Xiao says and turns around to leave but Venti doesn’t let go of his hand, holding him back. Xiao doesn’t say anything but gives him a questioning look as a response, and Venti wrecks his brain for something to say, but as nothing comes to mind, he settles on trying to convey the feeling of give me a goodbye kiss, please with his eyes. Xiao seems to catch on to it and his eyes soften, but instead of sweeping Venti off his feet and giving him a smooch, he squeezes his hand reassuringly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Venti, but I’m letting you take the lead.”

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. That’s terrible, horrible, no good. If Venti has to be the one to actually do something, it’s going to take them at least three years to go past longing looks and distant yearning. “Why would you do that?” He whines, lightly tugging on their intertwined hands. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Oh, I know,” Xiao chuckles. “But I don’t want you to freak out on me again. If you want things to go slow, we can go slow."

Venti brings his free hand up, fidgeting with the strings in Xiao’s hoodie, wanting to say something but not exactly knowing how to word it. Even though he’s aware that having a heart to heart in front of his apartment building isn’t really appropriate, Venti feels like if he doesn’t say what he has to say, the moment will slip through his fingers and it will take him way too long to bring the topic up again.

"I think... I'm just scared," he starts, fingers twirling around the strings nervously and eyes cast down. "I don't have much experience with…” He points back and forth between them. “This. And the experience I have isn’t exactly good. Wouldn't recommend, really." It takes all his willpower, but Venti looks Xiao straight in the eyes, because he wants him to know he’s being as sincere as possible. “So I'm scared that I will do something and mess it up, but I'm even more scared to not do anything and have you grow tired of waiting around for me."

Xiao nods understandingly. He takes a moment to reply, and while he’s trying to find the right words, he grabs Venti’s hand that’s still playing with his hoodie strings, bringing it up to his lips and resting it there. He does it mindlessly, like it comes natural to him. "I will be here in the way that you allow me and for as long as you want me. That’s it."

That’s it, he says. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world and not something that’s keeping Venti up at night... But this little thought enters Venti’s brain that maybe things aren’t as complicated as he makes them in his head. If Xiao says that he’ll be patient with him for as long as he needs it, why should Venti doubt it? Why should he keep questioning himself and overthinking every single step he takes? Maybe it is that simple, maybe that’s just it.

“Xiao,” Venti says solemnly, moving the hand that’s resting on Xiao’s lips to hold the side of his face, partly because he wants to be dramatic, partly because he just wants to have an excuse to cup Xiao’s face. “Do you know that I would die for you?”

Xiao doesn’t even take a second to reply, "Then perish."

“So mean,” Venti whines, pinching Xiao’s cheek with a pout. He takes a small step forward with the intention of giving Xiao a goodbye hug but changes his mind halfway – he instead grazes his thumb across Xiao’s cheekbone, touch soft and careful, and leans forward to rest his forehead on Xiao’s, bumping their noses together. It makes him think of That One Night, but that’s before he feels Xiao’s hands holding on to his waist, bringing him closer instead of pushing him away. Venti pulls back, only slightly, and before he realizes what he’s doing and alarms go off in his brain asking him to abort mission, he leans in and leaves a small kiss on the corner of Xiao’s mouth. “See you tomorrow,” Venti says softly, his breath mingling with Xiao’s in a way that makes his heart pick up its pace. He can’t help but break into a giddy grin when he draws back and sees Xiao looking at him with a profound fondness in his eyes that Venti had never seen (or had rather never noticed ) before.

“See you tomorrow,” Xiao whispers, giving Venti’s waist a little squeeze before taking a step back. This time, when he turns around again to leave, Venti doesn’t stop him. He knows he must look like an idiot standing there with a stupid lovesick smile on his face as he watches Xiao turn and wave at him before he goes around the corner and gets out of sight, but he doesn’t really care. For the first time in a long while, Venti feels like everything will work out.

Chapter Text

Venti’s foresight has never been good. For example, he could have let the dough he needs for a recipe proofing overnight but he didn’t plan ahead, so now he’s stuck with two hours to kill and absolutely nothing to do. Xiangling is filming something and he doesn’t want to bother her too much, and Xiao and Childe are nowhere to be seen even though they should have clocked in at least an hour ago, so he decides to plop down on the sofa in the break room and go on his phone until the dough is decent enough to work with. He switches from one app to the other, bored out of his mind before a little lightbulb goes off in his head and he decides to check the comments in his and Xiao’s latest video. They had been trending for some time after the video was uploaded, but Venti didn’t check any comments because he knows that most of his audience likes to point out that he looks very much in love with Xiao, and he’s already aware, thank you very much. The first comment under the video catches his attention:

idk why they fought and i dont care but i hope they had a nice making up smooch session

“You and me both,” Venti mutters under his breath. He keeps scrolling, and to nobody’s surprise a bunch of the comments are about how handsome Xiao is, how much the sweater he was wearing suits him, and how he should wear a white chef coat instead of the boring Wanmin apron because, you know, men in uniform. Venti agrees.

let’s bet. how long until these two get married

↳ what tells you they aren’t already

↳ so true bestie!!!

He has to laugh. If he had to bet, and judging by the pace he’s decided to take, Venti would give it a least a few decades.

i would die for you both

Venti’s logged into the Wanmin account from his phone, so taps the little heart next to the comment and drops a reply.

↳ [Venti] please don’t :p

He’s thankful that past Venti was smart enough to turn off notifications, because it takes three seconds for people to start hearting his comment and replying with a myriad of feelings ranging from ‘omg venti’ to ‘sir please let me kiss you’.

no offense but if my s/o doesn’t look at me the same way venti looks at xiao then what’s the point

Venti scrolls back up to the video and drags his finger along the time bar, picking a random place to stop. Video-Xiao and video-Venti are bickering about taking way too long to manually remove the bubbles from the tofu mixture before it sets, but video-Venti is looking at video-Xiao with hearts coming out of his eyes, like he’s put the stars in the sky only for him. Just a few seconds of the video are enough of his own lovesickness staring back at him, so he goes back to the comments.

we love to see soulmates thriving (no but really guys i’m so happy you made up, things are really boring without you two)

Okay, Venti. Deep breaths. He sees that, for some reason, someone has replied to that one specific comment from the Wanmin account, so he taps on the “View 504 replies from Wanmin Test Kitchen and others”. He’s greeted by several people agreeing, key smashing and sending seventy thousand crying emojis, and he keeps going down the comments until he finds the official reply that he had been looking for.

↳ [X] ❤︎

Venti feels his face start to heat up and okay, that’s enough. He’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, but the way that random people on the internet can read him like an open book is giving him the heebie-jeebies. And it’s not only the comments – it’s the hundreds of replies agreeing with them and the thousands of likes.

Luckily, he gets distracted from the comments when Xiao comes into the break room, gym bag in one hand, a tray with two iced coffees in the other, and phone precariously balanced on his shoulder. He walks to the sofa and awkwardly bends down to hand Venti one of the coffees, taking the other for himself and almost downing it in one go. He’s humming and nodding to whoever is at the other end of the line, saying a whole lot of ‘I understand’, ‘It’s okay’ and ‘I’ll be fine’, but he doesn’t look like he’s remotely close to being fine. He hangs up the phone with a worried scowl and sits down next to Venti, dropping his head on the other’s shoulder.

“Hello, Xiao, I too am very happy to see you in this fine morning,” Venti greets, voice mockingly excited. “You okay?”

“I’m so stressed,” Xiao whines, but he doesn’t elaborate. Venti turns his head and almost has a heart attack because Xiao is pouting and someone so handsome shouldn’t be allowed to be cute too. He’s not too sure if it’ll help, but he decides to take Xiao’s hand on his, linking their fingers together and squeezing it reassuringly.

“About the move?”

Xiao had been lucky enough to find a decent apartment to live without roommates, so he’d taken the opportunity without thinking twice about it. It needed a lot of work before he could move in, though, so he’s been in a haze of packing boxes, painting walls and building furniture for the past week, and it’s plain to see that it’s starting to take a toll on him. He nods, and his hair tickles the side of Venti’s face. "I have to finish moving all my stuff today, Childe told me he would help me this evening but something important came up."

"Something important?"

"Investor meeting." Oof. Venti has to give Childe some credit because if that’s an excuse, it’s an excellent one. "He wasn't supposed to go but they requested him last minute and he still has to prepare and everything."

Venti takes a moment to think if his presence will alleviate any of Xiao’s problems. He’s no expert on house renovations, and the last time he moved was to his current shabby apartment, but he guesses that four hands will do more than just the two. “Would you like me to help you out?”

“Are you sure?” Xiao sounds doubtful, and he shifts in his seat. “I mean, I was going to ask you, but I feel bad about it.”

"Oh, so I'm your second choice, I see,” Venti remarks pointedly, unlinking his hand from Xiao’s and crossing his arms. “That's not very nice of you."

"Well," Xiao shrugs and tugs on Venti’s hand so he can hold it again – Venti tries to resist for all of two seconds before he gives in. This time Xiao holds him tighter. “Childe’s taller and stronger than you are, and he knows more about building furniture.”

"It's not a good idea to call someone who’s willing to help you short and weak."

Xiao lifts his head from Venti’s shoulder. "Well, you have other charms,” he argues, lifting his free hand and using it to brush some stray hairs away from his face. “You're way prettier,” he says with an expression that tells that he knows exactly what he’s doing to Venti’s heart. “And I like being around you way more. Does that make up for it?” It does, but Venti isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer. “Would you really help me out?”

Venti sighs and takes a moment to sip his coffee before answering. "I don’t know why you ask when you know you have me wrapped around your finger and I’d do anything for you."

Xiao gives him the biggest grin Venti has ever seen in his life and squeezes his hand before he gets up and heads for the door. As he watches Xiao leave the break room looking at least a good thirty percent less stressed than he did when he came in, Venti feels like spending his Friday afternoon lifting boxes might be worth it.

---

Once they clock out for the day, Venti and Xiao hurry hand in hand to the latter’s new place. Venti’s never been to Xiao’s previous apartment, but he has heard a lot about it, all of it bad – poor drainage due to too many hairs in the drain caused a nasty roommate, no fire safety and many, many fire hazards, a thirty-year-old water heater that sometimes decided to stop working for days on end and made weird (and worrying) noises… The list goes on and on. So he’s happy for Xiao to start living in a place that will not actively try to kill him.

They only have five minutes to spare before the mover van arrives with more boxes than Venti has seen in his life. The workers take almost no time leaving all of Xiao’s belongings by the door, and, as the boxes pile up, Venti finally understands why he wanted someone more physically able than Venti to help him sort through them all. It’s a lot.

Once they’re done, one of the mover guys tells Xiao that he has given the invoice to ‘his partner’, and Venti is expecting an immediate ‘Oh, he’s not… We’re not…’, but he doesn’t even bat an eye, thanking the worker and politely saying goodbye. Venti dumbly holds out the paper that he’s been crumpling in his hand for the past five minutes and Xiao has the audacity to wink at him as he takes it from his hand.

Xiao is as methodic with unpacking as he is in the kitchen – he divides the previously-labeled boxes into piles depending on where they belong to, kitchen here, living room there, bathroom over there. It takes some time and some bumping into each other, but they fall into a nice rhythm. Venti cuts the boxes open, takes the stuff out, unwraps it from its seventeen layers of bubble wrap and hands it to Xiao, who places it somewhere in the room where 1. it belongs or 2. it won’t bother them until they find it a place that fits better.

“Xiao,” Venti whines from his spot on the floor for the nth time. His ass is sore in the worst kind of way and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep opening boxes with a knife and not accidentally stab himself.

“What?” If Xiao’s trying to sound exasperated, he’s failing miserably, because his tone can only be read as stupidly fond.

“I’m hungry,” he complains, crawling to where Xiao is sitting on the other side of the room until he’s kneeling behind him and clinging to his back. Venti presses their cheeks together and rocks them from side to side, Xiao taking it as a cue to leave what he’s doing aside.

“Let’s order something?” Xiao gives in, grabbing his phone and opening the delivery app. He starts scrolling and Venti gives his opinion about each one of the restaurants with a grunt that slightly varies in degree of disagreement. “So picky. What do you want?”

“The one’s you’re checking are too healthy,” Venti complains again. “I want the greasiest, nastiest thing you can find. The flavor profile has to be almost exclusively salt.”

“I can’t believe you’re a chef.”

“I can’t believe you’re a chef,” he mocks, trying to mimic Xiao’s voice and failing miserably. “Well, Xiao, I can’t believe you’re into me, but here we are. Life doesn’t make sense sometimes.” He can’t see it, but he can sense with his lover boy powers that Xiao rolls his eyes.

As much as he complains about too many carbohydrates and sodium, Xiao ends up giving up and they order greasy and nutritionally questionable burgers that they somehow manage to fit among the clutter of the living room’s coffee table. They practically inhale the food as soon as it arrives while there’s some cheesy rom com playing on the TV, and Venti feels a food coma come closer and closer with each bite.

He finds himself sprawled on the sofa after eating, and Venti wants to sit closer to Xiao. Desperately. And the worst thing is that he knows that he can. But he doesn’t know how to go about it, because he had panicked and sat on the other side of the sofa, and Xiao has made it clear that he’s not going to do anything that he thinks will make Venti uncomfortable.

“You’re staring.” Venti is aware but Xiao informs him nonetheless. He doesn’t take his eyes off the TV, so Venti isn’t too sure how he can tell. He doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t know what to say, but Xiao seems to be able to read what’s going through his head. “You’re helpless,” he shakes his head and turns to Venti, opening his arms wide and making grabby hands. “Come here.”

Venti can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as he hurries into Xiao’s embrace. Maybe he should be a bit embarrassed of the way he’s clinging to his neck like his life depends on it, but he’s feeling too giddy to care. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you, I guess?” Xiao chuckles. They fall silent for a moment, and thanks to the mixture of having eaten way too much food and Xiao’s warmth, Venti feels his eyelids start to drop. He tries to fight it off because he doesn’t want to miss a single second of being sandwiched between Xiao’s arms, but it’s a lost battle. “You’re falling asleep on me.”

“It’s getting late, maybe I should get going,” Venti says, lifting his head to look at Xiao but making absolutely no effort to get up and actually get going.

“Hm…” There’s a tinge of doubt in Xiao’s voice that Venti doesn’t miss. “Stay the night?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. “Okay.” He drops his head back to Xiao’s chest again, the sound of the TV in the background and the hand combing through his hair quietly lulling him to sleep.

---

Xiao gently wakes him up when the credits are rolling but by the way that sleep is clinging to his eyes, he must have not paid a whole lot of attention either. Venti gets up from Xiao’s embrace very reluctantly and, because deep inside he’s just like a needy toddler, he doesn’t let go of his hand. Xiao doesn’t seem to mind, though, and guides Venti to the bedroom, letting the door close behind them.

“I already got all the clothes out of the boxes; you can pick whatever you want from the closet.” Venti must look genuinely confused, because Xiao feels the need to clarify, “I’m not going to let you sleep in my bed wearing dirty street clothes.”

The phrase “in my bed” plays again and again inside Venti’s brain as he rummages through Xiao’s closet and chooses the first things he sees – they are the same size, so he guesses that whatever he picks will fit. Clutching the clothes against him, he heads to the en suite bathroom (because if he gets changed in front of Xiao, he might have a stroke) and closes the door. He hears Xiao’s muffled voice say something about a spare toothbrush in the cupboard under the sink, so he quickly gets changed and checks where instructed. Once he’s done, he gives himself one last check in the mirror and he catches the two toothbrushes sitting on the little cup Xiao has for them from the corner of his eye. He knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help but feel his heart grow fond at the domesticity of it all.

Xiao’s sitting on the bed and his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand until he hears Venti step into the room. He lifts his head and, for a moment, it looks like the wind has been knocked out of him. “You have a tattoo?”

“Uh?” Venti looks down at his own leg, almost having forgotten about the jade shapes adorning it, and traces his fingers along the lines. “I have two, actually. I’ll show you the other one if you’re good,” Venti jokes, but it dies on his lips when he brings his eyes up and sees that Xiao is blatantly checking him out without an ounce of shame. He’s biting his lower lip, his eyes slowly travelling from Venti’s tattoo to his exposed collarbone and back – until they finally land on Venti’s face and he quickly looks away with a sheepish expression, like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Venti thinks it’s the first time that Xiao has broken eye contact with him like that, but it’s a look that he’s sure Xiao has seen many many times from him. It feels nice being on the other side of it.

Venti can see Xiao swallow and run a hand through his face, eyes now fixed on the bed sheets. “You… I think I need to sit down.”

“You’re already sitting down,” Venti points out, leaving the bathroom door slightly ajar behind him and walking to the bed.

“A spiritual sit down.”

“Dramatic.”

Xiao lets a laugh and plops down on the pillows, hands resting behind his head. “Must be rubbing off on me from a certain someone.”

Venti doubts for a moment as he stands at the edge of the bed. He doesn’t know how to approach the unfamiliar situation, but Xiao reaches a hand out for him without any hesitation. Venti climbs on the bed and as soon as he grabs Xiao’s hand, he’s being tugged down so he’s half-lying on top of Xiao, his head comfortably resting on the other’s chest. Venti can feel his breathing and the sound of his heart against his ear, and he’s suddenly very aware of how very close they are. Alarms start going off in his head, very aggressively advising him not to do anything stupid.

“Why are you so tense?” Venti’s not sure if he’s too obvious with how he’s feeling, or Xiao is simply very observant.

“You make me nervous. Not in a bad way.” Venti walks his index and middle fingers across Xiao’s chest before lying his hand flat against it. “Like in a butterflies kind of way.”

“Cute.” It’s almost a whisper, but Venti can hear it loud and clear in the quiet room.

“Don’t you get nervous sometimes?”

“Around you? Not really, at least not anymore.” Not anymore. Venti proudly notes down in the Xiao knowledge folder in his brain that there was a time in which Xiao got nervous around him. Xiao’s fingers are tracing his arm up and down, leaving goosebumps across Venti’s skin. “There’s something… I don’t know. You make me feel at peace.” Venti snorts because he doubts that his chaotic energy can make anyone feel calm, but okay. “It’s true, you do.”

“Well, you don’t.” Venti doubts his own words as they leave his mouth, though, because Xiao’s touch is making him feel dangerously relaxed. “I think part of it is because you’re so handsome and I get intimidated.”

“And the other part?”

Venti doesn’t give it even a second of thought, because the answer is pretty clear. Because I’m smitten. "Because I'm in love with you.” There’s a moment of silence, and it slowly dawns on him that he might have said what he didn’t mean to. "Oh, fuck. I said the wrong thing out loud. Wait,” he’s trying to find something to say to fill the air when he feels Xiao’s shoulders lightly shaking. Venti lifts his head from Xiao’s chest and looks at him in a bit of a panic, because he’s not too sure if Xiao is crying or laughing – that’s until the pastry chef lets out a snorty laugh and Venti can feel his shoulders relax again. “Are you giggling?"

"I… It’s nervous laughter," Xiao says. He’s fanning himself with the hand that’s not curled around Venti, and he wishes for a moment that the lights were still on so he could see the pretty blush that he’s sure is sitting on top of Xiao’s cheeks.

"You just said I don’t make you nervous? All men do is lie."

"Well, y-you caught me off guard.” Xiao’s stuttering. Calm, collected, always cool Xiao is stuttering, and it’s because of Venti.

“Aw, baby got flustered,” Venti teases, trying to hide the fact that he’s flustered himself.

“Stop it.” He can just make out Xiao’s outline in the dark, but he can tell by his voice that he’s smiling.

“Sorry,” Venti apologizes, but he’s not really sorry. It might have been a slip of the tongue, but it’s what he feels, so he doesn’t mind that Xiao knows. On the contrary, it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He settles down against his chest again, and it makes him giddy to hear Xiao’s frantically beating heart against his ear. Even though they’re flush against each other, Venti feels like it’s not enough, so he blindly reaches out a hand, finding his way until he’s cupping Xiao’s cheek. He leans into the touch and turns his head to the side, meeting Venti’s palm with his lips. “It’s true, though,” Venti mumbles, voice muffled against the fabric of Xiao’s t-shirt.  “What I said.”

Xiao doesn’t reply, but Venti can feel him smile against his fingertips, small and shy, and suddenly he understands what he meant by feeling at peace.

---

Venti wakes up to a darkly lit room and soft breathing. The light coming from the window is still dim, so he imagines that it must be early morning. They must have moved throughout the night, because instead of being sprawled on top of Xiao’s chest, they’re now facing each other, Xiao’s head is resting on top of his, their legs are tangled, and Venti can feel an arm around his waist.

He untangles himself from Xiao carefully, trying not to disturb him, and gets up to go to the bathroom, not before he takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Venti’s opinion might be biased, but Xiao looks ethereal. Dark hair against white pillows and relaxed features, he looks too beautiful to be real, and Venti has to double take just to make sure he’s not dreaming. He prefers awake Xiao, though – there’s nothing that Venti would trade for the glint in his eyes when he’s about to say something that will obliterate Venti, or the way that he quietly cares so much for him and shows it with the smallest of gestures, or how his hands fit just right between his own.

Venti takes his eyes off the sleeping figure reluctantly, but mother nature calls. He hurries to the bathroom and flushes the toilet carefully like that will make the water make less of a sound. He feels too awake to go back to sleep, so he heads out of the room and closes the door behind him with a small click.

There are empty and unfolded boxes scattered around the living room, discarded bubble wrap almost completely covering the floor, the kitchen is a complete mess of unpacked utensils and the little hallway leading to the main door is almost invisible. Venti sees how that much work for only one person (who, mind you, is also working full time and refuses to take a day off to get his apartment sorted out because of sheer stubbornness) would be incredibly overwhelming, and perfectly understands why Xiao’s been walking around the kitchen with a dark cloud above him for the whole week.

So Venti rolls up his metaphorical sleeves and gets to work. It takes him an hour, but he manages to get the apartment into a half-decent shape – all the empty boxes are now sitting behind the couch unfolded and waiting to be recycled, he’s managed to get all the utensils into the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, and he can even get to the main door if he tries hard enough. And all of that quietly enough that he hasn’t woken Xiao up. It’s not perfect and it’s obviously far from done, but he’s still proud of himself.

His stomach is starting to rumble, so he opens the fridge to see what he can whip out together with the less amount of effort possible. There are a few eggs and milk, and Venti is able to find some flour and sugar inside one of the cabinets. He doesn’t know if it belongs to the old tenants and has been sitting there for years or whatever, but he takes it anyways, whatever, beggars can’t be choosers. Still, the irony of a professional chef with an almost empty kitchen is not lost on him.

As he’s grabbing utensils and turning the stove on, Venti hears the bedroom door open and soft steps head for the kitchen. He doesn’t turn around, though, because he’s acquainted with himself well enough to know that if he’s faced with sleepy-looking, soft eyed Xiao he won’t be able to take his eyes off him and breakfast will most surely get burned. “Good morning,” Xiao’s voice is raspy and low, still laced with sleep.

“Morning,” he whispers back, feeling that if he speaks up, he will somewhat ruin the moment.

“Hm…” Venti feels a pair of arms wrapping around his waist, and Xiao nuzzles into his neck, the tip of his nose a bit cold. “I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought you had left.”

“Sorry,” Venti apologizes sheepishly, trying to focus his attention on the pan in front of him and not on Xiao’s hands sprawled across his stomach. “I was a bit restless, so I decided to get up and do something productive.”

“I wanted to wake up next to you,” Xiao whispers against the skin of Venti’s neck, his voice so soft that Venti almost misses it. He lets out a little cough and changes the topic nonchalantly, like he just made a comment over the weather and can’t feel how fast Venti’s heart is beating or how there’s a very visible blush creeping up his neck. “What are you making?”

“Just some pancakes, you didn’t have ingredients in your fridge for much else,” he replies, trying to keep his composure. He can feel Xiao let out a little laugh followed immediately by a yawn. "If you're tired you should eat something and go back to sleep. It’s still early."

"There’s a lot to do."

"I’ll handle it, I don’t mind.” Venti hates housework with his whole being, but if it means that Xiao will get more rest, he truly doesn’t mind. “You’ve been moving boxes around and building furniture all week, you must be exhausted."

“I’m not going to make you spend your weekend working for me.”

“Xiao...” Venti turns the stove off and turns around, Xiao’s arms sturdy around him making it a bit difficult, and faces the pastry chef with a worried frown. Now that he’s awake, rather than angelic and ethereal, Xiao looks worn, dark circles under his eyes and a perpetual yawn stuck in his throat. “You don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself, you know? I’m here.” Venti runs his hands through Xiao’s messy bed hair, nails softly scraping at his scalp – Xiao closes his eyes at the contact and Venti feels completely enamored. “Let me take care of you.”

“I…” Xiao starts, opening his eyes and focusing them on Venti’s. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he mumbles, leaning forward and burying his head on the crook of Venti’s neck.

"I could say the same thing," Venti replies, bringing a hand up to mindlessly trace patterns up and down Xiao’s back with his fingertips until he can feel his breathing grow slower and his grip around his waist loosen. “Hey, don’t fall asleep standing up,” Venti chuckles, shrugging the shoulder Xiao’s resting on. “Breakfast and back to bed, okay?”

Xiao doesn’t look convinced. He scrunches his nose and opens his mouth to speak, but Venti cuts him off by kissing the tip of his nose and giving him a look that doesn’t allow for any retorts. As he grabs Xiao’s hand and guides him to the cluttered kitchen table, Venti takes a moment to give thanks. To whom, he doesn’t know. To whoever or whatever has allowed this, Xiao’s hand in his and his scent lingering on his own skin, to be his reality – a god, destiny, fate, he doesn’t really care.

Chapter Text

Venti is extremely thankful that nobody in the kitchen is observant, except maybe for Xiao, and he doesn’t count. Because when he arrives on Monday wearing the same clothes as he did on Friday, weirdly on time and with Xiao on toll, Childe and Xiangling don’t even bat an eye. He’s not too sure if it’s because they really don’t notice or because they’re sparing him of the teasing, but he’s not going to complain.

He’s sitting with Childe in his workstation, busy packing little overly ornamented bags with candy. Apparently, there’s going to be some type of seminar and the Wanmin Restaurant wants to give attendees some kind of present, a homemade one so they can feel the company’s spirit, or whatever nonsense the PR team has come up with. Obviously, the task has been given to the four most dispensable people in the whole company  – Xiao and Xiangling are actually making the candy two tables over, while Venti and Childe have been commended to pack it nicely and put it into boxes. It’s the lesser of two evils, really, because at least him and Childe get to sit down.

Weirdly, they have been working in silence for a while. But that’s only until Venti decides that he’s too bored to stay quiet, even if he’s sure Childe will give him some grievance. “So, boss,” he starts, and Childe perks up at that. “How was the investors meeting?”

“Boring,” he deflates and sighs, struggling to tie a ribbon around one of the tiny bags. He goes on a tangent about what they talked about during the meeting, and Venti tunes most of it out, answering with ‘Uhms’ and ‘Ahs’ and ‘That sucks’ or ‘That’s great’ when he thinks it’s appropriate. Once he feels like he’s done ranting, Childe takes a deep breath and turns around to where Xiangling and Xiao are working together, lowering his voice before he asks. “How are things going with Xiao?”

“Slow, but they’re going,” he shrugs, “Don’t wanna rush it after I almost fucked it all up.”

“I would barely call it rushing,” Childe chuckles, tossing the bag on the box by their feet with too much force. It makes a crack noise that indicates that what was inside is broken, but they both pretend they haven’t heard it. “He told me you helped him out with the move?”

“Yeah,” for some reason Venti feels shy admitting it, like he’s letting Childe in on his and Xiao’s little secret. “It was a lot of work but it was nice.”

“Unpacking boxes was nice?”

“No, just… You know,” he replies eloquently, waving a hand around. “Being alone with him, but not in the kitchen.” Xiao’s hands around his waist, his breath tickling his neck, running his hands through Xiao’s hair, waking up next to him... “It was nice,” he manages to stutter out, unable to elaborate without feeling his brain turn to mush. “Yeah.”

Childe stops in his tracks, eyebrows furred, and turns in his chair so he’s looking directly at Venti. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Venti answers, way too fast and with too much panic in his voice for Childe to believe whatever he says next. “Really. It was nothing. I helped him out, and he bought me dinner.”

“Okay,” Childe says, but his eyebrows are getting closer and closer to reach his hairline. He grabs another bag and lets silence hang in the air for a few seconds before he speaks again. “Just so you know, I don’t believe you.”

Venti sighs, knowing that Childe won’t drop it until he gets an answer that he’s satisfied with. “I just… I might have told him how I feel. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Childe says way too loud, and Xiao and Xiangling turn around to see what the commotion is about. He gives them a sheepish smile and lowers his voice again, leaning closer to Venti. “You’ve been pinning for months and you tell me that a love confession ‘ is it ’?” He angry whispers. “Tell me everything. Right now.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Venti whispers back, refusing to meet Childe’s gaze. “It got late, and he asked me to stay the night so I did. And I told him I’m in love with him.” Venti’s not even directly looking at Childe and still he can feel him get whiplash at his words. “He probably already knew anyways.” He waves a hand like it’s nothing. No big deal. Not at all.

“That’s a bold move coming from you.” There’s some offense to be taken behind Childe’s words, but Venti takes none. “Did he say it back?”

“Nope,” Venti answers matter of factly, because there’s no point in lying or beating around the bush.

Childe turns around and gives Xiao’s back a nasty look before getting up from his chair, reaching for the scissors resting on top of the table. Fearing violence, Venti grabs his arm and tugs him down – with Childe, it’s really hard to differentiate when he’s doing a bit from when he legitimately wants to beat someone’s ass, so better be safe.

“No, no, it’s okay. I don’t want him to feel forced to say anything.” Childe looks like he doesn’t believe a word, but at least he sits back down, even though he doesn’t drop the scissors. “Nothing else happened, but I’m okay with that.” Venti doesn’t even have to lie because he is. As long as he can be around Xiao, he’s happy. “He’s really cute when it’s just the two of us, though, gets really clingy,” He blurts out, not even too sure why, and can feel himself dumbly smiling. “I just like being with him.”

“Oh god,” Childe breathes out a laugh, hands finally letting go of the scissors and going back to the little bags scattered around the table. “I didn’t know you were that whipped for him.”

“Bro,” Venti calls out, and Childe turns to look at him with an amused glint in his eyes. “First of all, you know I’m in love with him. Second of all, you’re one to talk. You were the same.”

“It was different,” Childe argues. It wasn’t. Venti clearly remembers visiting Zhongli during the summer holidays and bright-eyed, freshly-moved-to-Liyue Childe being there, pinning from a distance but not daring to make a move. Childe and him, deep down, are two sides of the same idiot coin.

“Different how?”

“It just was.” Arguing with Childe never goes anywhere, Snezhnayan stubbornness or whatever, so Venti decides to drop it. There’s a moment of silence, and then Childe decides to open his mouth again, much to Venti’s dismay. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but he mentions you often when you’re not around, you know? Not even anything special, just stuff in passing… Venti did this, or Venti mentioned that, or Venti might like this. He clearly thinks about you a lot.”

“Uhm,” Venti clears his throat, and the blush slowly creeping up his neck doesn’t seem to stop Childe.

“And poor thing was so desperate that he came to me for advice when you guys fought.” Venti stops fidgeting with the bag immediately. He had never thought about it. About Xiao and Childe talking about him, about their… relationship , or whatever him and Xiao have, when he’s not there. He’s done it himself multiple times  – he’s talked to Xiangling, and Childe, and Zhongli, and his friends back in Mondstadt, but he’s never considered that Xiao has gone with his love life problems to others, much less to Childe.

“That was after I had offered you to fire him just so you wouldn’t have to see him around,” Childe continues like nothing. “I felt guilty.”

“What did you even tell him?” Venti asks, trying in vain to fake a nonchalantness that’s he’s clearly not feeling. He clumsily drops the bag he was twirling in his hands, and Childe doesn’t even try to hide that he’s laughing at Venti’s misery.

“That’s between us.”

“Childe,” Venti whines, dragging the word as much as he can before he runs out of breath. “I’m just curious. I deserve to know what people say behind my back.”

“Venti,” Childe mocks, voice going at least three octaves higher. “I’ll tell you something.” Venti leans forward, clinging to every word coming out of Childe’s lips. “He called you a dick.”

Venti rolls his eyes and leans back on his chair. “And he called me an asshole to my face. Nothing new.”

“That’s Xiao,” Childe says with a laugh, like it explains everything. “You can ask him if you want to know. But I don’t think you need to worry about it, whatever he says behind your back he will say to your face too… Or at least I hope he will soon enough.” Childe wiggles his eyebrows and gives him a look like he knows something that Venti doesn’t. Stupid Childe.

Venti feels like he’s prying even though he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself from asking. “When did you even talk about the whole… situation?”

“With Xiao? The three of us talked the day we had to do inventory, before you arrived.”

“The three? Xiangling was there too?” Childe nods, and Venti hides his face in his hands. He only has three coworkers and the three of them talk about what an idiot he is when he’s not around. He wants to scream. “I swear there’s a conspiracy against me in this kitchen.”

“Absolutely,” Childe agrees, sarcasm clear in his voice as he nods his head. “We all hate you, and we’re plotting to make your life hell so you quit as soon as possible. It’s not like Xiangling and I adore you and Xiao is… You know.” He lets his sentence trail off but makes an obnoxious kissy sound to make up for it.

“I can’t fucking stand you,” Venti says, voice mumbled by his own hands, and Childe just laughs at him, bumping their shoulders together affectionately.

“Venti,” Childe’s voice grows a tad softer, and he places a hand on Venti’s back. He lifts his head and looks at him, and he’s greeted by a beaming smile. “I’m happy for you. You deserve whatever good comes your way,” Childe says, and the simplicity of the statement and the sincerity in his voice hit Venti straight in the gut. He doesn’t know if it’s the amount of feelings he’s been dealing with lately or just that he’s a giant baby, but he feels his eyes water just the smallest bit. Childe catches it immediately, though, and coos at him, using the hand on his back to pull Venti closer to him and give him a side hug. Stupid Childe.

---

Venti loves his job, he really does – he gets to do what he likes with people he likes, so it barely feels like a job. But every day when he gets to clock out, he feels the iron claw of capitalism slowly releasing the grip on his neck, allowing him to finally breathe even if only until his next shift starts. So when the clock hits the hour, he has already taken his apron off, put on his jacket and grabbed his bag, more than ready to leave. Xiao, though, is still running around the kitchen, whisk in one hand and a hefty-looking book in the other, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to stop whatever he’s doing anytime soon.

The other two cooks are almost out of the door, and Childe turns around to ask if Venti’s coming, but stops as soon as he sees that Xiao is still very much in the kitchen and Venti is very much staring at him. Childe clears his throat and mouths something that eerily sounds like ‘ go get him, tiger ’ when Venti turns around to look at him. He instantly feels an incoming headache – he sometimes wonders if other people feel about his shenanigans like he feels about Childe’s.

“Hey Xiao, you’re not coming?” He calls out from the door once Childe’s out of sight, having to raise his voice to be heard three tables over.

“Not yet,” Xiao answers absentmindedly, running his finger through one of the pages until he finds what he’s looking for and stops. He takes the pencil resting behind his ear and scribbles something on a notebook, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at the ingredients in front of him.

“Why is that?” The rational part of Venti’s brain knows he shouldn’t be bothering him, but he’s very close to whining at Xiao for not leaving with him, so he settles for at least a bit of an interrogation.

“Recipe testing.” By the way Xiao is barely paying attention to him and answering like he’s on pilot mode, Venti can tell that he’s in the zone and whatever Venti says will go in one ear and out of the other. Xiao gets like that, sometimes, when he’s focused on a new recipe. He gets an idea in his head and can’t stop until he’s tried so many times that he finally masters whatever he’s making – because Xiao, weird guy, doesn’t believe that failing or giving up are viable options.

“For a video?” Venti presses, trying to get more than two words as a reply.

“No.”

And he leaves it at that.

Venti sighs and drops his bag at the door before walking to Xiao’s workstation and looking back and forth between the stuff on the table and Xiao’s face. “You’re frowning,” he dumbly points out, reaching a hand to smooth Xiao’s frown with his thumb. That seems to snap him out of it, if only for a brief moment, to give Venti a small smile. “Why are you so mad at your little cakes?”

“Not mad, just focused,” he says with a chuckle, like it isn’t painfully obvious, “You can go home if you want, I’m going to stay for maybe one more hour and I don’t want to keep you here if you have stuff to do.”

“I never have stuff to do,” Venti laughs, because his plan when getting home was lying on the sofa and watching one of those tacky reality tv shows about picking wedding dresses that make him feel like he’s an expert in fashion even though he can barely dress himself. “I’d rather keep you company. You can even pretend I’m not here.”

“I will.” Xiao gets back to work immediately, not even sparing Venti a second look as he shoos him away with his hand. Rude .

Feeling defeated and rejected and a bit too dramatic, Venti walks over to his own workstation and jumps on it, sitting with his legs dangling from the side. He pretends to check his phone for the better part of ten minutes, but he can’t help but bring his eyes up to look at Xiao. If he has to be honest, he doesn’t understand how Xiao can be so focused when Venti’s eyes are following his very movement – he knows that, if he were in the same situation, he would probably be flustered or at least a bit self-conscious.

His thoughts about how soft Xiao’s hair looks and how nice it would be to jump from the counter and wrap his arms around his waist get interrupted by the man himself when he speaks up. “Do you want to try it? It’s a matcha tea cake.”

“Sure.” Before Venti can reach out to grab the cake, Xiao takes his hand away, only to bring it to Venti’s lips himself. He gives Xiao an eyeroll but takes a bite nonetheless, chewing a few times. He scrunches his nose disapprovingly. “Tastes like grass.”

“You have the palate of a five-year-old.”

“I’m so sorry monsieur pâtissier,” Venti says, hand in chest and voice unnecessarily affected, “not everyone can be as refined as you.”

Xiao flicks him in the forehead in a way that makes Venti wonder since when hitting someone can be done lovingly, and shoves the rest of the cake in his mouth before turning on his heel and getting back to work. Venti sees him stick a bunch of stuff into a bowl (he’s more preoccupied looking at the way Xiao’s arms flex with his every movement, sue him) until he has a fluffy cream. He sticks his pinky in and licks the cream off, his face immediately going into a grimace. The buttercream is not the usual white color but rather a pastel green, so Venti assumes he has added some pastry chef secret to it but, even then, he has never seen anyone have such an intense reaction to what looks like a simple swiss meringue buttercream.

Xiao seems to take a moment to think for a moment, but ends up walking to where Venti’s sitting again, bowl in hand. “Try this for me?”

“I thought I had an unrefined palate,” he offers with fake innocence, and Xiao rolls his eyes, pushing the bowl in front of his face.

Venti sticks his finger in, looking at it pensively for a moment. Xiao’s eyes follow his hand as he, instead of bringing it to his mouth to taste the cream, taps his finger on Xiao’s lower lip with a growing mischievous grin. Venti then cups Xiao’s face with his hands, leaning in and capturing his lips with his own to get the cream off – it’s nothing more than a peck, and he pulls back before Xiao can even react.

Venti looks up for a second and licks his lips, like he’s thinking about it. “It’s good,” he says cheekily, letting his gaze drop and go back to Xiao’s face.

“Venti,” Xiao breathes out looking stunned, lips parted and eyes wide. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and he doesn’t know if he leans in, or Xiao does, but somehow, they meet in the middle.

As embarrassing as it sounds, Venti had imagined how kissing Xiao would feel like more times than he can count. He thought his stomach would do summersaults, and he would get flustered and shy, and there would be fireworks and a sunset behind them. But it’s just them , if just slightly more intimate than usual – Xiao’s hands resting on his thighs, one of them absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb where his tattoo is, and his own hands holding on to Xiao’s hair, bringing him closer. The only difference is that, this time, Xiao’s lips are on his own like they belong there. He tastes sweet, like sponge cake and buttercream – Venti has never had a sweet tooth but begins to wonder if he’s developing one, because he can’t get enough.

Venti breaks contact for just a moment so he can catch his breath, tilt his head and get a better angle, and is amused to see how Xiao immediately chases his lips again. He bites Xiao’s lower lip, just to test the waters, and is delighted to feel him melt into the contact with a content sigh. Venti is aware that they’re pretty much making out in the middle of the kitchen and the cleaning team could walk in at any time because, technically, they shouldn’t be there, but Xiao’s tongue is running through his lower lip, and he throws all his critical thinking out of the window.

After what only feels like seconds, Xiao pulls away and rests his forehead on Venti’s, hands travelling from his thighs to his hips with a feather-light touch. “I don’t want this to be anticlimactic,” he says, still close enough that his breath is fanning over Venti’s lips, “But I have a cake in the oven and I can already smell it burning.”

“Oh, come on,” Venti chuckles, giving Xiao a peck before letting him go. He trots to the ovens on the other side of the room, and Venti can’t smell anything, but he can see a little cloud of dark smoke coming out of one of them. Xiao grabs the mittens, turns the dials and opens the oven, taking a slightly charred oolong tea cake out with what can only be defined as a pout.

Xiao sighs heavily as he walks to his table and sets the cake on a wooden cutting board. He maneuvers the clasps on the springform cake pan carefully and takes a deep, defeated look at the cake before turning to Venti again. “I think I can savage the inside at least to see if the taste is right,” he says, and it sounds more like a question than a statement. Venti shrugs, because he’s not too sure if there’s any use for that dry and hard looking cake beyond using it as a very inefficient frisbee. Xiao sighs again. “ You can even pretend I’m not here ,” he mimics Venti’s voice with eerie accuracy.

“Sorry,” Venti singsongs, not an ounce of sorriness in his voice.

“No, you’re not.”

Xiao gives the failed attempt of a cake a last pitiful look and leaves it in the cooling rack – Venti thinks it will be more efficient to just throw it in the trash, but he doesn’t mention it because, if Xiao decided to use the cake as a weapon, he would probably be dead in a few seconds. He follows Xiao with his eyes as he walks over and positions himself again between Venti’s legs, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. He looks at Venti with a kind of devotion that he’s not used to, fingers delicately tracing his jaw, the curve of his lips, the tip of his nose. This time he’s sure that Xiao’s the one who leans in, hands cupping his face, and he doesn’t know if he will ever get used to the warmth that spreads through his chest every time Xiao’s lips are on his. Xiao pulls away but doesn’t let go, bringing Venti as close as he can and burying his head on the crook of Venti’s neck. Not like he minds.

“Clingy.”

He can feel Xiao smile against the skin of his neck. “Can you blame me?”

“Not really,” Venti agrees, running his hands through Xiao’s hair absentmindedly. “If this had been the other way around, I don’t know if I would have had the same amount of patience as you have had with me,” he confesses because, even though he would like to think that he’d be okay with whatever boundaries Xiao set, he’s not certain if he would have been able not to eventually kiss him silly.

“I’m sure you would have,” Xiao sounds 100% sure, and Venti feels his heart melt a bit.

“Hm,” he hums into Xiao’s hair, he doesn’t know if to agree or disagree with him. “You’re too good to me.”

“I’m not, I just don’t want to overstep any boundaries,” Xiao states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates on his words for a moment, and Venti can feel him switch the weight on his feet nervously. “I love you too much for that.”

Venti has to take a deep steading breath, and he feels thankful to have enough self-control not to let out the ungodly sound that’s stuck at the back of his throat. He, in his logic mind, knew that Xiao must love him, even if just a little bit, to take the time to make things right and let him in into his life the way he has. Even when he had told him about his own feelings and Xiao hadn’t said anything, Venti had been sure that it was because he needed it to be at his own time, not because he didn’t feel anything towards him. But hearing it from his own mouth feels different, like finally the floodgates are open and they can finally be fully sincere – both with each other and with themselves. He takes his hands off Xiao’s hair and puts them on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at the other cook in the eyes. He struggles a bit with it, though, because Xiao isn’t budging, head still stubbornly nested on the crook of Venti’s neck. 

Venti doesn’t give up, though, because the last time he said what he wants to say they were in the dark, and he wasn’t able to look at Xiao. He finally manages to make Xiao lift his head, a faint blush adorning his cheeks. Venti leans in and kisses him again – just because he can. “I love you too.” Xiao smiles, big and bright and pretty, and Venti smiles back, hoping that he doesn’t look as dumbly giddy as he feels. He pinches Xiao’s cheeks and tilts his head, giving the other cook his best puppy eyes. “Let’s go home?”

Xiao just nods and takes a step back, holding out a hand so Venti can grab it to jump off the table. They both take a look at the mess in Xiao’s workstation, measuring cups, bowls and utensils strewn about – there’s only one rule in the kitchen, and it’s that they have to clean up after themselves. As much as Venti just wants to grab Xiao’s hand and leave, he was not raised by wolves, so they get to work. It takes them longer than it should have, though, because Venti keeps stopping every two minutes, trying to find an excuse credible enough to make Xiao get closer and steal a peck from him.

It must be the fifth time that Venti has tried the same plot that Xiao finally gives him a exasperated look and sighs, even though it turns into a fond laugh halfway. “Are you always going to be this annoying?”

Thankfully they’re done cleaning up, so Venti wipes his hands in Xiao’s apron as he’s taking it off, and offers him a cheeky smile. “This is what you signed up for,” he shrugs, and Xiao must not be very annoyed because he slings an arm over his shoulders and pulls him closer to his side as they finally walk towards the kitchen’s door. “No taking it back now, too late, I’m sorry.”

“After how long it took us to get here,” Xiao says, turning his head to leave a kiss at Venti’s temple. “There’s no way I’m taking it back.”

Chapter Text

Venti yawns as the elevator doors open on the fifth floor, and immediately all he can see is Xiao leaning on the wall next to the door of the kitchen, and his face brightens up as soon as he spots him. Xiao smiles back and Venti already feels like he’s going to have a nice day.

“Good morning,” Venti greets him, finding it very weird that Xiao isn’t already inside the kitchen and doing his thing before anyone else even gets there, like always. “You’re not coming in?”

“I have to go to the office to talk to Zhongli, something about making a wedding cake for one of the employees,” Xiao sighs, but he doesn’t look like he’s intending to move anytime soon.

“What are you doing here, then? Go.”

Xiao pushes himself off the wall and steps into Venti’s space, lifting a hand a caressing his knuckles against his cheek. “Just wanted to say hi.”

Venti turns his head from side to side to check that nobody is around, and only when he’s one hundred percent sure he takes Xiao’s face into his hands, placing a short chaste kiss to his lips. “For good luck. I’ll see you later.” Xiao just hums against his lips as a response and reluctantly takes a step back, heading for the door that leads to the stairs.

Venti gives him a little wave and, as he’s walking into the kitchen, feels himself get yanked back by the hood of his jacket, almost tumbling down backwards. He steadies himself and turns around ready to cuss someone out because rude , but he stops as soon as he sees Xiangling standing there with her mouth open, eyes wide, pointing between Venti and the door to the stairs with a shocked expression. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t checked that anybody was watching well enough.

“What the fuck?” She says, voice higher than it usually is.

“I can explain,” Venti starts, putting his hands up in surrender and taking a step back so Xiangling’s hands aren’t able to reach him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Xiangling interrupts. “You’re such a bad friend,” she complains, eyebrows furrowing as she walks past Venti and into the main kitchen space, but there’s no real malice in her voice. “Since when has this been going on?”

Venti walks behind her, glad that Childe hasn’t arrived yet and he doesn’t have to deal with a two-way interrogation. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. Oh, but he knows. He’s been counting. “A few weeks, I guess? But don’t get too excited. I don’t really know if he wants to like… make it official or whatever.”

It’s not like they’re trying to hide, but they haven’t talked about it either. Venti feels like being lovey-dovey with Xiao in the kitchen would be incredibly inappropriate, specially taking into account that there are cameras almost always rolling in the background, and it would probably make him uncomfortable. He’s assuming, though, because as much as it’s slightly bothering him, he doesn’t know how to bring the topic up.

Xiangling looks like she doesn’t believe it. “You haven’t talked about it?”

“Nope.”

“But have you had a feelings talk? Like…” She waves a hand around. “In general?”

“Yeah,” Venti confirms, leaning his elbows into Xiangling’s table with a pout. “But I’m not sure about… You know. What we are.”

Xiangling doesn’t answer for a minute. She starts taking bowls and utensils from the storage under her table, looking like she’s trying really hard to put her thoughts into words. With a clonk, she drops one last bowl onto the counter and turns around so she’s facing Venti.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” she finally starts, placing her outstretched hands between her and Venti like she’s trying to steady herself – Venti takes a step back just in case she feels like yanking him around again. “He’s told you that he has feelings for you, he lets you kiss him in public where clearly anybody can see you, he looks at you like you’re the best thing the world has ever created.” Xiangling counts with her fingers. “But you’re still not sure of what you are because he hasn’t called you a specific label to your face.”

Venti scoffs because she’s making a lot of sense and he doesn’t like when people do that, but he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. “You don’t understand, I–”

“Venti,” Xiangling interrupts again , his name sweeter than honey on her lips as she places a gentle hand on his arm. “Are you aware of the fact that Xiao has been your boyfriend for a few weeks and you haven’t noticed?”

---

Venti feels like he’s in a haze. The word “boyfriend” doesn’t leave his mind for the rest of the day, and he’s thankful that all he has to do is some recipe testing and not film anything, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to properly focus. His luck is pretty much done, though, when Xiao calls his name from the filming table.

“Venti,” Xiao beckons him over, and Venti lifts his head from the bowl of batter he’s been mindlessly stirring for the past ten minutes. “Come here. I don’t know what to make next, so I’m taking requests. Is there any dessert you’d like to eat?”

“Hm… I don’t know,” Venti places a hand under his chin as he walks in front of the camera and stands next to Xiao, wrecking his brain to find the most annoying and difficult dessert possible. “Maybe you should try making a Gateau St. Honoré.” He clearly remembers Xiao telling him once that he would rather eat glass than make a St. Honoré again – it’s usually a three-day project, and sometimes it’s the dish students need to make to graduate from the International Culinary Center.

Xiao immediately shakes his head and gives him a nasty look. “And maybe you should try shutting your mouth up.”

“Make me,” Venti quips back without thinking about it, because that’s what he’s been saying for the past few weeks every time Xiao asks him to shut up (which is often), and it has always ended up with Xiao’s lips on his, which is always a good outcome in his mind. But it takes him a few seconds to realize that their audience is very much going to read into that and come up with their own conspiracies. “Ugh,” he doesn’t allow Xiao any time to respond before he’s taking a step back. “I don’t know. Make whatever you want.” And he’s off, trotting back to his own workstation with his back to the camera, praying that he’s the only one aware of the blush creeping up his neck.

“Okay,” Xiao chuckles to the camera, looking a bit confused. “You guys know Venti is a bit strange, don’t hold it against him.”

---

The evening finds him like it has for the better part of the past weeks – half-lying in the couch of Xiao’s apartment, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as Xiao is sat on the other end, legs tangled with Venti’s and controller in hand, playing one of his little games. Venti looks up, peeking at the TV, and the dude who was killing monsters two minutes ago is now peacefully playing the lyre in a field of flowers. He doesn’t get it.

Venti has had Xiangling’s words buzzing around in his head all day, and he wants to bring the topic up, but he doesn’t know how to. It’s stupid, really, because he’s had his fair share of hard conversations with Xiao at this point, so he shouldn’t feel so uneasy about it – Xiao would rather have him say something than bottle things up and let them eat him up inside. He knows if he keeps mulling it over he will end up not saying anything, so he takes a deep breath and forces himself to speak. “Xiangling saw us today.”

“Yes, she did,” Xiao agrees without taking his eyes off the screen. “She works with us.”

“When I kissed you, dumbass,” Venti chuckles, nudging Xiao’s leg with his foot. “She asked me about what’s going on between us.”

“Hm?” Xiao is unfazed, and Venti doesn’t know if it’s because he doesn’t care or because he’s too focused on the rhythm game showing on the screen. “And what did you tell her?”

“That I don’t know.” Xiao misses one of the notes and breaks his combo, and that’s when Venti knows that he has his attention. It takes a few seconds, but the song finally ends and he opens the menu, turning around to look at Venti with confusion clearly strewn across his face.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“You know…” Venti lets his sentence trail off and shrugs like that gesture alone would explain everything.

Xiao closes his eyes and leans back against the cushions of the sofa with the biggest sigh Venti has heard in his life. He doesn’t even open his eyes before speaking, “If this is a 'What are we?' conversation, you can ask me what you want to ask directly.”

“What?”

Xiao opens his eyes and locks his gaze with Venti’s, one eyebrow going up in disbelief. “You’re an open book. Just ask me.” When he sees that Venti isn’t about to open his mouth, he leans forward, drops the controller on the table and moves around so he’s sitting cross legged and directly facing Venti. “Okay, I will start for you: ‘Hey Xiao, can I tell Xiangling that you’re my…” No reply, so he keeps going. “Two syllables. Starts with a b.” Xiao looks at him expectantly, gesturing with his hands for Venti to speak. “What word do you make if you put boy and friend together?”

“I–” Venti stutters, feeling that if he hears the word boyfriend come out of Xiao’s mouth, he’s going to suffer a very severe breakdown. “Stop making fun of me.”

“If I don’t make fun of you, I will lose my mind,” Xiao defeatedly drags his hands across his face and Venti would be worried that he’s getting on Xiao’s nerves if it weren’t because he’s smiling. “I know we never talked about it, but I thought it was pretty clear.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted labels or not.”

“I love labels,” Xiao deadpans, and Venti wants to be mad at him, but he finds it very hard when Xiao kneels on the sofa and crawls into Venti’s space, hovering over him and leaning in to pepper kisses around his face until he finally joins their lips. “I’ve been referring to you as my boyfriend since we made up,” Xiao says as soon as he pulls back, his tone so casual that Venti needs a moment to process what he just said. “But you can tell Xiangling, and Childe for that matter, whatever you want.”

Xiao is about to sit back up, but Venti grabs the front of his t-shirt, forcing him to stay as he is. “...you what?”

“You told me you had feelings for me, I told you I had feelings for you, that pretty much settled it for me,” Xiao says like calling Venti his boyfriend was the only course of action that made absolute sense. Taking advantage of Venti’s state, he untangles the fingers gripping his t-shirt and sits back on the sofa. “Also, I’m kind of surprised that Zhongli hasn’t told Childe anything. He’s been listening to me rant about you for some time now.”

“Wait, what the fuck?” It’s Venti’s turn to sit up, because Zhongli has never mentioned being friends with Xiao, not even in passing, and it’s the first time that Xiao has even brought up Zhongli’s name in casual conversation. “Since when are you and Zhongli so buddy-buddy?”

“I, for one, take my job seriously, and we have meetings from time to time. He invited me to tea once and we got along quite well,” Xiao explains with a shrug. Venti picks up one of the pillows he was resting on and smushes it against his face. “Have you not told him anything?”

“Just superficially,” he says, his voice muffled by the pillow. Zhongli had called him the day after the Jueyun fiasco to check how everything went, and Venti had very briefly explained what was going on with Xiao, but didn’t go into too much detail because one , everything was too recent and he felt like he would cry if he talked about it for more than three seconds and two , he was sure that Zhongli would scold him for not being able to have a conversation and solve his problems like an adult. And he’d be right, like he always is. “He’s my voice of reason so I knew I would get scolded for not being more emotionally mature, and I was not interested.”

“Yeah,” Xiao has the nerve to sound amused. “He mentioned you have a problem with that.”

“Oh, my god.”

“What did you want me to do?” Venti finally takes the pillow off his face and is met with Xiao’s exasperated expression. “You’re as dense as a rock so I had to let things out somehow… And Zhongli helped with that. I had been bottling my feelings up for a long time.”

“What do you mean a long time?”

“I mean since day one, basically.” Venti just sits there for a moment, staring straight at Xiao and opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. “Are you okay?” Xiao is just curiously looking at him while he struggles, head tilted and a amused smile tugging at his lips.

“No?” Venti manages to say and his voice cracks, which makes Xiao stop pretending that he’s not having a field day at the expense of Venti’s sanity, and he openly laughs. “Day one?” Venti repeats, still not believing his own ears, and Xiao nods. “You’re telling me I could have kissed you the first week we met and you would have been like ‘Okay’?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“And I am the dumbass in this relationship?” Venti lifts an accusatory finger as Xiao gets up from the sofa and heads for the kitchen. “Why didn’t you make a move?”

“What are you talking about? I made a move,” Xiao argues. “I made several moves.”

“Name one.”

Xiao disappears into the kitchen and Venti can hear him fumbling around with the coffee maker. “Well, I openly flirted with you, thank you very much for noticing,” he says, his head peeking from the side of the kitchen’s door. “Also, I asked you out for coffee I don’t know how many times, but you always ended up inviting Childe or Xiangling along,” Xiao looks up like he’s trying to remember what other stupid stuff he did to get closer to Venti. “And I brought you lunch for a week because you didn’t feel like cooking, do you think I would do that for the others?”

Venti can feel the smell of freshly brewed coffee fill the room, but the only thing he can think about is that he pinned for months for someone who was pinning back, but both of them were stupid enough do not do anything blunt about it. Looking back, what Xiao is saying makes a whole lot of sense – at the time, though, he had thought that Xiao asking if he wanted to go grab coffee was more of a teamwork-building thing than a relationship-building thing, so he always ended up asking Childe or Xiangling to join them so nobody would be excluded. It looks like Xiao is going to speak again, so Venti lifts a hand to stop him. “I need a moment.”

Xiao chuckles, walking into the living room and pushing a cup of coffee into Venti’s hand. “I thought you knew.”

“Do you think if I knew you had feelings for me I would have acted like a clown for so long?”

"You don’t want to hear my answer to that question,” Xiao says as he walks back to the kitchen to grab his own cup. Venti swings one of his house slippers at his head from the couch – he completely misses and Xiao laughs at him, but his point has been made. “Maybe you didn’t know at the time, but looking back…”

“I never really thought about it,” Venti confesses. “I thought I just wore you down and my charms finally worked.”

“Not really.” Xiao plops himself down in the couch, almost spilling coffee all over himself but saving it at the last moment. “Remember when you ate all the taffee that Childe made and got sick for like three days?” It takes Venti a second to remember, but he finally does – that must have been a few weeks after Xiao had joined the project. “I realized then that I was a bit… attached, because we hadn’t known each other for long but I already missed you when you weren’t around.”

“That’s so sweet,” Venti finally says, reaching out a hand and tucking a strand of hair behind Xiao’s ear. The way he closes his eyes and leans into the touch makes Venti’s heart do a funky little dance. “And makes me feel a bit stupid.”

“Why is that?”

Venti bites his lip and takes his eyes off Xiao, focusing them anywhere else in the room, so he settles for the cup between his hands. “I realized in Jueyun.”

“Fuck, Venti,” Xiao laughs, and pats Venti on the knee with a demeanor that says get well soon . “I realized you liked me before you did.”

“I knew I liked you way before that, have you seen yourself?” Venti says, because he clearly remembers the first time he saw Xiao step into the kitchen, he felt the wind getting knocked out of him. The fact that he ended up falling for Xiao was just a natural sequence of events. “Jueyun was when I realized I was in love with you. Because when I thought you had rejected me it hurt so bad, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore and say that I just had a silly crush or something,” Venti lifts his eyes from his cup of coffee and directs them to Xiao’s face – he’s smiling at him with that look in his eyes that is half loving, half mocking. “What?”

“For someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, you’re so dumb when it comes to your own feelings.”

Venti scoffs, bringing the cup to his lips, “Says the one who had to ask Childe of all people for advice.”

“What did he tell you?” Xiao’s smile falls and his eyes grow bigger, like he’s been caught red-handed. “And when did he tell you?”

Venti takes his time to have a sip of coffee and swallow it, just to savor one of the few moments when he has the upper hand. “He mentioned it the other day. But nothing specific, just that you talked before we did.”

“Fucking Childe,” Xiao mutters and yeah, Venti can understand the sentiment. “I didn’t tell them anything you don’t already know, in case you’re curious.”

“I know,” Venti reassures. A comfortable silence falls between them for a few minutes until Venti decides to speak again, more to share a random thought that to begin a conversation, “I’m going to brag so much, everybody’s going to hate me.”

“Hm? About what?”

“About you being my boyfriend,” Venti says with a grin, and Xiao chokes on his coffee, coughing loudly into the crook of his elbow – he tries to argue that his cheeks are red because he couldn’t properly breathe, but Venti doesn't buy it.

---

They don’t officially make it official, really – there’s no conversation with Childe or Xiangling, no excessive show of PDA, and the b word doesn’t get thrown around, at least not when they’re in the kitchen. Xiangling already knows, so when she sees them hand in hand, she just gives Venti a subtle thumbs up and continues on with her day like nothing ever happened. Childe, though, seems to catch that something is off, but it takes him a few days to corner Venti in the break room to ask if they’re together together , and Venti is relieved when, weirdly, he seems to be satisfied with just an affirmative answer and no torrid details. 

“Good morning, colleague,” Venti barges into the kitchen bright and early, and Xiao’s the only one there. He had promised to make donuts from scratch for the four of them to have breakfast (and Xiangling, ever so kindly, would take care of bringing the coffee), so he’s by the stoves next to Childe’s table, a batch of perfectly shaped dough on his right, a pot of boiling oil in front of him, and delicious looking donuts on his left.

“Morning,” Xiao answers, sparing him only a glance and a small smile before he turns his attention back to what he’s doing. Venti’s not about to be ignored, so he walks until he’s standing behind Xiao – he sees that Xiao’s t-shirt has lifted up on one side, so he takes the opportunity to slide his freezing hand under it, planting it on the side of Xiao’s hip without any intention to let go. Xiao hisses at the contact and tries to wriggle free, but his hands are busy, and Venti is too much of a little shit to stop. “Don’t do that when I’m handling boiling oil.”

Just to make a point, he shoves his other hand under Xiao’s t-shirt too, gaining him a resigned sigh from the other cook. “Don’t run like a furnace and I won’t use you as one,” he argues, shit-eating grin growing bigger by the minute.

“Every day I ask myself why I voluntarily put up with you,” Xiao says turning to look over his shoulder, and Venti takes the opportunity to lean in and steal a kiss from him - Xiao kisses back immediately, but Venti is not about to get blamed for yet another burned cooking project, so he gathers all the willpower he can muster and pulls back.

“Because you love me,” he singsongs, resting his chin on Xiao’s shoulder, his hands still planted on his hips. When Xiao turns back to his donuts and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Venti gives out a surprised gasp. “Oh my god, you do. That’s so embarrassing for you.”

Just as Xiao opens his mouth to reply, they hear a cough behind them. “Please stop fondling each other during working hours,” Childe demands from the door. Instead of listening to him, Xiao leans back, turns his head and leaves an obnoxiously loud kiss on Venti’s cheek. “Gross,” Childe mutters under his breath, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re being extremely unprofessional.”

Venti peels himself off Xiao, albeit reluctantly, and starts walking over to Childe’s table. “I never say anything when you smooch Zhongli every time he comes to the kitchen,” he argues, and Childe gives him a shrug. “Also, can you pretty please set the dehydrator up for me? I still don’t know how it works.”

“I mean, you could say something, but it’s not like I would care,” Childe argues back, dumping all his stuff by his table and taking his apron from one of the drawers. “Also, no.”

But, as Childe is all bark and no bite and he can’t say no to Venti, he picks up the dehydrator from the corner of the room and trots to Venti’s workstation, plugging it in and proceeding to spend the next five to ten minutes explaining how it works. Venti tries to pay attention, he really does, but he hasn’t had any breakfast yet, it’s too early and Childe is too bad of a teacher to retain any type of information. Once everything is set up so Venti can make some fancy and stupidly time-consuming jerky, they both stand with their hands on their hips, proudly looking at their conjoined achievement.

“I was thinking,” Childe says, which immediately rings alarm bells on Venti’s head, because Childe isn’t too keen on doing that, normally. “Now that you and Xiao are a thing, I could threaten him a bit, right?” He has that one smile plastered in his face that tells Venti that whatever he plans to do is either going to embarrass him or give him grief. Or both. “Just for fun.”

“Threaten him? What are you–?” He grabs Childe’s sleeve by instinct, trying to hold him back, but he makes no effort to move from the spot where he’s standing.

“Hey,” Childe calls out without waiting for Venti to finish speaking, gesturing Xiao to come closer with his hand. “Come here, young man, I want to have a few words with you.” The pastry chef gives him an uneasy look but does as asked, dropping the tongs he was using to pick the donuts from the oil and turning the heat off, and walking to Venti’s station with a doubtful step. His eyes shift to Venti’s for a moment, and his eyebrows furrow as he’s met with absolute panic. “You know?” Childe starts speaking, and Venti closes his eyes and braces himself. “I’ve seen Venti after a messy breakup.” And here we go.

“Childe,” Venti hisses through his teeth, but it’s in vain, because Childe pretends like he hasn’t heard him and tugs his sleeve free.

“Not a pretty sight, let me tell you,” he continues talking and walks over to where Xiao’s standing, stopping just a step away from him – if he weren’t so mortified, Venti would find the way that he’s intimidatingly towering over Xiao, at least a head taller, incredibly funny. “I know he’s an adult and he can take care of himself, but I’m not going to allow anyone to hurt him like that again if there’s anything I can do about it.” Childe lifts a hand and rests it on Xiao’s shoulder, making a point by crouching down so they’re eye to eye. “You as much as make him cry once, and I will make sure you wish you were dead. Are we clear?”

Venti doesn’t understand how, but Xiao manages to maintain the same flat expression throughout Childe’s whole speech. He barely even blinks before answering with a dry “Yes.”

“Good!” Childe’s tone switches from threatening to chirpy in less than one second, and he turns between Xiao and Venti, dramatically placing a hand on his heart. “You’re so cute together, I’m so happy for you, love you both, wish you the best, etcetera. Now let’s get to work.”

Venti follows Childe with his eyes as he walks towards the end of the kitchen and disappears behind the storage room door. Once he’s out of sight, he lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding and turns to Xiao with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m happy to know that there’s someone who has your back,” Xiao shrugs, getting closer and reaching out to squeeze Venti’s hand. There’s a small silence until he speaks again, tone overly casual and obviously trying to bite back a laugh. “So… Not a pretty sight, huh?”

Venti groans loud enough for the whole building to hear. “That’s so embarrassing…” he mutters, and, for a second, he debates in his mind whether to tell Xiao about it before realizing that if he doesn’t, Childe probably will. “I was in a relationship when I was still in Mondstadt, things got messy, and I got dumped. Really took it to heart. Like… Really,” he chuckles. “I usually spent summers at Zhongli’s here in Liyue, so that year when I came, I decided I wasn’t going back to Mondstadt.” Venti clearly remembers the moment, lying on Zhongli’s couch at the asscrack of dawn, when the realization that he could stay in Liyue and start anew hit him. “Zhongli’s an angel so he let me crash in his place until I found my feet, obviously Childe was around, because of course he was.”

Xiao is looking at him like he’s out of his mind, but the affection is clear in his eyes. “Well, that was dramatic.”

“Xiao, you don’t understand. I was a mess.”

Childe comes back from the storage room with his hands full, and he interjects as he’s walking by Venti’s workstation, “Lots of crying and wallowing in self-pity, I can confirm.”

“Bitch,” Venti mutters under his breath, and because Childe is holding two giant bags of flour and he won’t be able to hit back, he smacks him in the ass with a dirty kitchen towel that had been lying on his workstation for longer than he wants to admit. Infuriatingly, Venti only gets a cackle and an ass wiggle as a response.

“If he’s seen you getting hurt, I get that he’s wary of me,” Xiao says, clearly trying to be understanding. “But this time around, I don’t think Childe has anything to worry about.” Xiao smiles, one of those smiles that is not particularly big, but that is open, and sincere, and just for him, and Venti feels like his heart is about to burst. 

Without thinking, he takes a step forward and clings to Xiao like his life depends on it, throwing his arms around his shoulders and pulling him as close as he can. He hears Childe loudly low an aww from the other side of the room, and Xiangling joins him from the doorstep just a second later.

“I think you’re right,” Venti mutters, and he can feel Xiao’s chest go up and down with laughter against him when Childe half-yells an affected ‘They grow up so fast’ from his workstation. “I don’t think he does.”

Chapter Text

The kitchen is eerly silent. Childe is nowhere to be found, Xiangling is doing her own thing and, even though Xiao is filming something, he’s been quiet for at least the past five minutes. Which isn’t a very good sign because, at the end of the day, their job is to entertain the people who are bored enough to click on their videos. Venti looks up from the project he’s working on and stares at Xiao’s back for a few seconds before he decides to interject, still not moving from his spot.

“Xiao?” he calls out and Xiao turns around, bowl in hand and focused expression. “If you could speak up, show us a little more enthusiasm, that’d be great,” Venti says, expecting a sigh, or an eyeroll, or something, but Xiao just turns back to the camera, expression sourer by the minute. “Hello? Rude?” Venti chuckles, leaving what he’s doing and walking over to the filming table. “You okay there?”

Xiao takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before answering, “I hate my life.”

“What are you even making?”

“M&M’s,” he answers with a hateful tone that Venti has never heard anybody use to refer to something as harmless as chocolate covered peanuts. “They’re disgusting.”

“Have you tempered the chocolate?” Venti teases, even though he can clearly see that yes, he has, and receives an elbow to the ribs as a response. “Can I try them?”

“Venti is my guinea pig,” Xiao says to the camera, picking one of the M&M’s and feeding it to Venti without a second thought, like it’s something that they normally do – which it is, technically , but never when there are cameras around. Oddly, Venti finds himself not caring too much. “If something I make is ever poisoned, he’ll be the first one to go.” Xiao gives him a few seconds to chew before asking an innocent, “How is it?”

“Uh…” Venti extends the syllable, trying to find something nice to say. Xiao wasn’t lying when he said they’re kind of disgusting. The texture is completely off, too chewy, and it’s also too sweet. Eventually, he gives up and lets the word die on his lips – Xiao’s shoulders sag, a stupidly kissable pout on his lips. “This is already like a long marriage,” Venti finally says with a chuckle, and Xiao throws him a confused look. “Okay, let me set up the scene. We’ve been married for 30 years and we hold a lot of resentment for each other, but we can’t divorce because we don’t want to traumatize our children even though they are adults,” Venti explains, like it’s necessary to create such a convoluted story to explain his reaction. “So when you ask me stuff like ‘ How is it? ’ I just have to be like ‘ Baby, it’s great. You look great .’ so we don’t fight.”

“Imagine we don’t have children and we manage to get divorced,” he plays along. “What would you tell me then?”

“That the texture is like sidewalk gum.”

Xiao lets out a deep sigh and leans forward, bumping his forehead against the smooth metal of the counter, and Venti reaches a hand out, patting him on the back empathetically. “Your honestly is appreciated but also soul-crushing,” Xiao’s voice comes muffled, halfway between a whine and a laugh, and Venti has to muster all his self-restraint to not lift his hand and sink it into Xiao’s hair.

“Would you like me to lie? Tell you it’s good?”

Xiao props himself back up, resting his elbows on the table and his face on his hands, looking at the plate in front of him with clear hatred in his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, it wouldn’t be convincing,” he finally says, reaching out and nudging one of the M&M’s with his finger. He watches the coating cave in in a way that it shouldn’t.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes?” Xiao huffs a laugh and looks at Venti – they hold eye contact for a second, just to see who’s more stubborn, until Xiao decides to cough a bit, rest a hand on his chest and put on his best Venti impression. “ Xiao, I promise it wasn’t me who broke the precision cooker and then let it in the cupboard for the next person to find it and get blamed for it. ”

Venti opens his mouth in disbelief, ready to argue that he’s a decent liar, it’s just that Xiao is too observant and knows him too well, but gives up halfway. “That’s not fair.”

“Might not be fair, but it’s true.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“See?” Xiao makes a gesture with his hand like saying here’s an example , and shakes his head with a slight tug of his lips that Venti knows is him trying to hold back a smile. “Terrible at lying.”

“That’s it, I’m not helping you ever again,” Venti says, voice affected, but as soon as he turns around to go back to his own table, Xiao grabs the strings on the back of his apron and pulls, making Venti stumble backwards. He crashes against Xiao’s chest with a little yelp and immediately turns around – it’s not lost on him that they’re standing way too close, and that Xiao’s hand is still gripping his apron. “You’re lucky you’re handsome, did you know that? Otherwise, I wouldn’t bother with you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

They both turn to face the camera again, and Xiao spends the next five minutes chatting away and throwing ideas on how to fix the problem with the texture. Venti tries to listen, but he’s too busy focusing on Xiao’s hand resting on the small of his back to really register anything.

---

As soon as wrap up filming, Venti rummages around his backpack until he finds is phone. He’s about to check it for the first time since he arrived to the kitchen in the early morning, but Childe lets out a warning scream from the door, and Venti falters. Childe has always been slightly weird, but it’s one of the very few times Venti has seen him actually alarmed, which makes panic start to bubble in his chest.

“Okay,” Childe starts, like he’s trying to ground himself, as he walks into the kitchen and heads directly for Venti’s table. “I want you to hear this from me, not from some random person on the internet. Xiao? You too.” Venti flexes his hands to steady his nerves, and the few seconds that it takes Xiao to walk from the filming table to Venti’s workstation feel like minutes. He doesn’t know what to expect, but at least he’ll have Xiao by his side. “Here.” Childe hands them his phone, and Venti takes it, placing it between him and Xiao so they both can clearly see the screen.

Immediately, Venti feels his heart sink to his feet. It’s one of those trashy news portals that only talk about relatively famous people, and it seems that the focus for the day is their relationship. There’s a questionably written article accompanying a picture of the two of them kissing, and Venti tries his best not to look at the number of hits and likes it has. He has to admit, it would be a cute picture if the circumstances were different – they’re standing in front of Venti’s apartment complex, Xiao cupping his face with careful hands, and his own hands resting on Xiao’s hips, pulling them together. He wonders in what bush the photographer was hiding, as he’s sure that they didn’t see anyone around that day, but he’s at least thankful that they were caught sharing an innocent kiss, and he doesn’t have his hands shoved under Xiao’s t-shirt, or his tongue in his mouth. At least that’s something that they can keep between them and only them.

It’s not that he cares that people know that they’re together, if he has to be honest, he considers having scored himself a package deal like Xiao a great accomplishment that he should be allowed to brag about. It’s not that. It’s that something he has held so close to his heart, something he has worked on, grown from and is still learning how to navigate is now open for the world to see without their permission. It feels like the choice has been taken from him, and it’s not fair.

Venti turns around, and Xiao’s face doesn’t say a whole lot, expression blank and focused, but he knows those amber eyes too well, and can see the worry reflected on them. He doesn’t know, though, what Xiao is worrying about – the picture, the reactions they will surely be getting from people online, the fact that their very private, very intimate moment has been shared with the world, or how Venti himself is feeling. But the worry is there, and it doesn’t help with the weight on the pit of Venti’s stomach.

Childe takes his phone from Venti’s hand when he considers the information has set in and locks it with a little sigh. “We’re trying to find out who posted it so we can sue the fuck out of them if we have enough legal ground to do so.”

Venti reaches a hand and squeezes Childe’s arm reassuringly, the fact that someone else is freaking out as much as he is giving him some semblance of comfort. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

“Of course I worry,” Childe says like it’s obvious, frown clearly noticeable in his face and in his voice. “It’s my job to protect you from this kind of stuff. And you’re family at this point, so even if it wasn’t my job I would do it anyways.”

“It’s okay, really,” Venti says, and it tastes like a lie in his tongue. Maybe it will feel okay in a few days, but right now it’s most definitely not okay. “Everybody was suspecting it.”

“Fuck people’s suspicions,” Childe spits, and he shift from concerned to legitimately pissed. “I would be mortified if it happened to me, and I know how much you care about your privacy.”

“Is anyone… talking about it?”

“You shouldn’t care about that,” Childe replies, and despite not being a direct answer, it’s all Venti needs to know.

“This sucks,” Xiao opens his mouth for the first time, and Venti feels his heart tug at the way his tone doesn’t sound upset, but rather legitimately disappointed. He feels this sudden urge to engulf him in a hug, so that’s what he does, wrapping his arms around Xiao’s waist – what he doesn’t expect, though, is for Childe to reach out at the same time, swinging an arm around Xiao’s shoulders in a weird three-way hug. Xiao clearly wasn’t expecting it either, because he lets out a chuckle, one of his hands running through Venti’s hair, while the other one holds onto Childe’s hip.

“Wait for me!” Xiangling, who was in the bathroom and has completely missed the conversation, runs towards them, lunging at the pile of bodies in the middle of the kitchen and adding herself to it. It takes her a moment to register the gravity of the atmosphere, and, when she does, she whispers into Venti’s ear, “Why does everybody look so gloomy? What did I miss?”

---

There is a meeting with the PR team that day. It feels daunting, and scary, and really stupid to have a meeting over his and Xiao’s relationship – but he’s a public figure, the project partly depends on them two, and the pictures have been causing a whirlwind online, so he tries his best to understand. They recommend some courses of action so they can minimize the damage (what damage, Venti wonders), but Zhongli ends the meeting telling them to deal with the situation as they please and see fit. Benefits of being friends with the boss, he imagines.

They’re told they’re allowed to go home, but they decide to stay in the breakroom – Venti feels like he’s going to feel restless regardless of where he is, and the background noise of Xiangling and Childe trying to go about with the rest of their day kind of helps him relax. So they both plop down on the sofa, and Venti writes and rewrites some kind of announcement way too many times. It makes him feel like a celebrity caught in a scandal trying to whip out a shitty notes app apology as soon as possible so he doesn’t get cancelled. He hates it.

He finally gives up and turns his head to look at Xiao, who’s staring back with a worried look in his eyes. “Are you okay?” Xiao asks, voice low and tentative like he doesn’t know if Venti is about to snap and have a breakdown anytime soon.

“Better than I thought I would be,” Venti laughs, scooting closer and resting his head on the other’s shoulder. “You?”

Xiao shrugs. "I’m okay. This feels like damage control, only there's no damage."

"To be fair, the only harm this is going to cause is going to be the simp followers you'll lose now that they know they don't have a chance with you."

“Not everybody who follows me does it because they’re thirsty,” Xiao says defensively, and Venti doesn’t reply, letting the silence hang for long enough for Xiao to catch that he doesn’t agree with the statement. Xiao decides to be the bigger person and let it slide, but he speaks again after a few seconds. “What do you want to do? About this whole thing?”

Of course Xiao would give him the choice – stupidly sweet Xiao, always so in tune with how Venti’s feeling even if he doesn’t outwardly say anything. Venti feels a knot form on his throat, but he swallows past it and lifts his head from Xiao’s shoulder, reaching a hand and cupping his face with it. “You’ve always fit my pace, and never complained,” he says, gaze locked with Xiao’s. “You’ve been so patient and understanding with me, even when I was being a dumbass and didn’t deserve it. For once, let’s do what you think is right.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Venti states without a doubt, leaving a peck on Xiao’s lips just to make sure that he knows that he means it. “I trust you.”

---

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Xiao asks for what seems like the one hundredth time, and Venti loves him with all his heart, but is also very close to smacking him. For both of their sakes, he decides not to.

“Yeah,” he reassures again, and leans over Xiao’s shoulder to see what he’s been metaphorically cooking up in his drafts. The caption “if u wanted to see us kiss so bad you could have just asked” is accompanied by a picture, and Venti has to admit than it’s miles cuter than the one that was posted without their permission. It’s a mirror selfie in Xiao’s room they took a while back, Venti holding the phone as Xiao stands behind him, holding his waist. They’re kissing, but Venti’s hand is strategically placed so the phone covers the lower part of their faces.

Xiao taps send and, as soon as the picture is up, he gets a notification from a certain @tartaglia_chef, and the words "so true king, tell them" flash on the notification bar on Xiao's screen.

To nobody’s surprise, Venti has overthought the caption he wants to go with his picture for the past twenty minutes. He’s still not too sure of what to say in it, but Xiao has already posted his, so he needs to act quick. He deletes whatever corny nonsense he had written and retypes it, feeling Xiao snicker at his shoulder when he's finished.

his weed? i roll that. his hand? i hold that. his back? i got that. his husband? i am that. my role? i play that. we’re happy? they hate that

His picture is arguably less cute, but it encompasses them all the better. They’re sprawled on the same couch they’re sitting on at the moment, and Venti is clinging to Xiao’s arm, throwing a peace sign with a giant grin in his face while Xiao looks at him wearing the fondest exasperated expression Venti has ever seen in him. Childe had taken the picture a few weeks back, something about showing them the dynamic from an outside perspective, and Venti has treasured it ever since.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Venti taps “Send” and chucks his phone to the table a bit too aggressively, like it’s burning in his hand, and there’s a moment of stillness in which they both look at each other without saying anything. Venti is about to open his mouth just to break the silence and do something with the restless energy inside him, but he loses his chance when Xiao’s phone rings obnoxiously.

"Congratulations, Xiao!" Comes a female voice as soon as Xiao picks up the video call, and even though his position leaning forward on the sofa isn’t the best, Venti can peep a mop of brunette hair on the screen.

"What are you talking about?" Xiao shifts his weight and tilts the screen, allowing Venti to see a girl wearing a lab coat and standing directly under bright lights. She has a mischievous glint in her eyes that translates even through the shitty internet connection.

"Your post?” She starts, but gets no response from Xiao, so she leans forward, her voice getting increasingly louder and her face filling up the whole screen. “The rings? Venti literally calling you his husband? Hello?"

"What?" Xiao says, a frown quickly forming between his eyebrows, and he shoots Venti a concerned look. "That’s not…"

The girl chuckles and reaches to her left for something – a box comes into frame and she pulls out two white surgical gloves, putting them on with a loud snap. "It looks like you're implying it."

“Wait.”

Venti reaches to the table and grabs his phone, unlocking it and going to his profile. He re-reads the caption, taps on the picture, and understands . Forgetting about the fact that he did unintentionally call Xiao his husband, there’s a gold band adorning his ring finger, a matching one clearly glinting on Xiao’s despite the blurry quality of the picture. They only take them off when they’re in the kitchen, mostly because they’re inconvenient, and he sees them every single day, so he didn’t even pay it any mind before posting.

He goes to Xiao's profile, and okay, he now understands understands . The rings are front and center of the picture he's posted, very visible on Venti’s hand holding the phone and on Xiao’s, resting on Venti’s stomach. It seems intentional, even though it’s very much not. They’re not even promise rings – Xiao had mentioned in passing that he liked gold rings once when they were out shopping, and Venti had gotten them matching ones the very next day, just because the corniness of matching couple items made something stir in his belly in the best way possible.

Venti feels his soul leave his body for a moment, but he has to admit the whole situation is kind of funny. Of course they would manage to make people more confused when trying to clarify things. Of course they would.

"Yeah…” Xiao mutters, frown not leaving his face, but he sounds like he finds it kind of amusing. “I see that now.”

"He’s like your husband and you haven’t introduced us, Xiao, that’s so rude of you," the girl says, but there’s no real bite in her voice, and she’s wearing a giant grin on her face.

“Please, stop,” Xiao asks, but it comes out as a weak plea, like he’s used to being tormented on the daily and losing any battle he decides to fight with her.

“Is Venti there?” Before there’s any time for her to get a reply, she shouts into nothingness, apparently praying that Venti’s there and she’s not screaming at dead air, “Hi, I'm Hu Tao!"

"Hi, Hu Tao! Nice to meet you,” Venti leans in so his whole face is caught by the phone’s shitty internal camera, and greets enthusiastically to match her tone, getting a wide smile and a coo in return.

“You’re so cute, no wonder why Xiao likes you so much,” she says with a playful tone, but seems to get distracted by a rattling noise coming from one corner of the room. Venti sees what looks like a stretcher come into frame, and he’s thankful that he can’t really make out what’s lying on it. "A client just arrived, gotta go. Please don’t actually get married without telling me, you know I only get to go to funerals and they’re not particularly fun,” she seems to catch herself and mull over her own words for a second. “At least for the rest of the attendees.”

"Don’t fret, I’ll save you the flower girl spot,” Xiao reassures her, and Hu Tao gives out an enthusiastic wohoo sound before hanging up the call. Venti is ready to ask in which circus did Xiao find her , but he beats him to it to clarify, "She's a mortician, has her own funeral parlor."

"How come you never told me about your cool mortician friend?"

"Never came up in conversation."

Venti chuckles, leaning back into the sofa and feeling weirdly at peace with the whole situation. "She seems like a handful."

"Yeah, she is,” Xiao agrees with a small smile, tone fond, and gives Venti a sideways look and a little nudge with his shoulder. “Seems like I like to surround myself with people who are a lot.”

"You have to admit they have a point," Venti argues, phone still in hand as he scrolls up and down his timeline, seeing people send him increasingly confused messages. If a few minutes ago he thought it was kind of funny, he’s now living for it, the mixture of speculation, people congratulating them, and people arguing that there’s no way that they’re married after such a short time of knowing each other tugging a smile at his lips.

“Well," Xiao shrugs, pocketing his own phone and leaning back too, head slightly turned so he can look at Venti. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Venti says, and he finds himself not trying to lie or mask his feelings, because he truly does not care about what people think as long as he gets to be by Xiao’s side like he has been for the past months. It might be hard, navigating the new expectations people will most definitely put on them, but it’s not like he isn’t used to things being complicated, and confusing, and hard. He will get through it. They will get through it. “I don’t mind, hubby.”

Xiao lets out a laugh, eyes crinkling, and Venti can’t fight the sudden urge to lean in and give him a kiss. “Then let them believe what they want to believe,” he says as they pull back, reaching out a hand to cup Venti’s face and wasting no time to kiss him again, deep and slow, like he’s trying to gather all his feelings and put them into the motion.

Venti suddenly remembers what Xiao told him before they were a thing, before he had had the courage to put his feelings into words – “in the way that you allow me and for as long as you want me.” It resonates in his head over and over like a mantra, and he tucks the phrase away in one corner of his mind that he can easily reach every time he needs it. Venti thinks like if that’s one year, five years, the rest of his life, he doesn’t care. What he cares is about Xiao, being by his side as long as he’s welcome, and being the one keeping a smile on that gorgeous face, doesn’t matter how tough things get, how many hard conversations they need to have, they just need to take things one day at a time – and he has proven it again and again, so Venti has no doubt that Xiao wants the same for him. At the end of the day, that's what truly matters. 

Chapter Text

It’s Sunday, and the weather is perfect and miserable at the same time. The rain is softly pit patting against the windows, wind barely blowing, and thunder can be heard in the distance, even if faintly. Xiao loves that kind of weather, he finds it relaxing – but it’s annoying that it’s raining on the day he and Venti had plans to actually go outside and do something instead of staying home like they do during the week, sprawled on the floor watching some dumb TV show, too tired to function.

He’s lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling when his phone lights up with a text from Venti, nothing more than a link to a video and a “lol check this out”. Xiao truly has nothing better to do, so he opens it, and is greeted by a 10-ish minute video, the title “Xiao and Venti From The Wanmin Test Kitchen Being An Iconic Powercouple For Ten Minutes Straight'' staring back at him from his phone screen. It has way too many views and way too many comments, but Xiao decides not to fixate on that. Instead, he settles against the cushions and taps the play button.

He’s greeted by a title card made with the ugliest font he’s ever seen in his life (he really, really hopes that it was ironic and intentional, otherwise he will need to have a very serious conversation with his watchers), and the video immediately cuts to a clip from that one episode in which Venti wanted to make a moon pie to celebrate the Windblume Festival even away from home, but there was no way to find the appropriate mold for it anywhere.

“Venti has this really bad habit of leaving everything a mess and not picking up after himself,” Xiao says with a sigh, his hands shoved inside a giant box of knick-knacks sitting on the counter in front of him.

He had tried to resist, because Venti is grown enough that he can take care of his utensils and look for them by himself, but Xiao’s not made of stone. So, some puppy eyes, a pout, and a few “ please, Xiao ” later, he’s elbows deep on the box, tossing broken utensils and deformed molds to a nearby trashcan and wondering why the hell they keep them in the first place – somehow, in his head, he manages to make it Childe’s fault.

“You look really cute today,” Venti interrupts from behind Xiao, arms loosely wrapped around his waist and chin resting on the other’s shoulder.

Xiao decides to keep talking like Venti’s not even there. “And then he can’t find anything, and I’m the one having to rummage through the kitchen to find it for him.”

“So handsome,” Venti chirps up again, running one of his hands through Xiao’s hair like he’s a toddler being coddled.

“It pisses me off, honestly. I don’t even know why I do it."

Venti untangles himself from Xiao and leans his whole body forward, turning his head so he can look at the other cook. Their eyes meet, and they stay quiet for a moment too long, a moment that the editor apparently decided not to cut from the video. “I love you so much,” Venti says with absolutely no shame and obviously trying to hold back a smile.

“And I can’t stand you,” Xiao answers, rolling his eyes, but the creeping blush in his cheeks and the fond smile on his lips say otherwise.

Cut.

Venti is trying (without much success) to descale, clean and cut a huge Snezhnayan fish that is almost half his size. Xiao had never seen that kind of fish in his life. and it’s obvious that he poor chef is struggling, scales flying everywhere and fish guts nastily spread on the cutting board in a way that they clearly shouldn’t.

Childe, who’s the fish expert, is nowhere to be seen, but Xiao is standing next to Venti with a mixture of confusion and disgust sprawled on his face. He’s there merely for moral support because, as a pastry chef, he knows very little about properly preparing fish. But even he knows that what Venti’s doing is wrong on so many levels.

“The way you’re doing that is giving me anxiety,” Xiao finally says, arms crossed and a pained tone in his voice when Venti’s knife slides from the weirdly slimy side of the fish and hits the wooden board.

“The way I’m doing what?” Venti lifts head up from the massacre, and the glint in his eyes tells Xiao that he’s very very close to giving up.

“You know,” Xiao says helpfully, too weirdly fascinated to be able to take his eyes off from the fish, and he makes a gesture his hand that tries to say everything .

“How should I do it, then?” Venti asks with a sigh and tilts the knife so it’s parallel to the scales that have been refusing to be removed for the past five minutes. “Like this?”

“Baby, no,” Xiao says like Venti’s dumb, eyes not moving from the cutting board and hands instinctively reaching out to grab the knife from him, but he stops when he sees that Venti has freezed up. “What?”

“You just called me baby,” Venti answers after a few seconds, voice slightly cracking like pulling the words from his mouth is taking him a titanic amount of effort. There’s a slight blush forming on his cheeks, and Xiao has to restrain himself from pinching them.

“I did?”

“You did,” Venti confirms, and he points straight to the camera. “Caught you in 4K, probably.”

“Guess it slipped up,” Xiao snorts and shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t care despite the very obvious way in which he’s shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. He grabs the knife from Venti’s hand, just because he was already reaching for it, but he finds himself not knowing what to do either.

Venti mimics Xiao and shrugs too, trying to be nonchalant and channeling anything but. “It should slip up more frequently,” he whispers, and Xiao almost misses it. 

Cut. 

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Xiao’s done explaining what he’s about to do for his project. He’s getting ready to actually start working, tying his hair up and rolling his sleeves when he hears a badly uttered wolf whistle from behind him.

“Hey, handsome,” Venti calls out from his table, and Xiao half-turns his body so he’s looking at Venti but still not fully giving his back to the camera. “Are you single?

“Yes,” Xiao immediately lies without missing a beat, and turns around to fully face the camera again. “Anyways–”

“I’m interested,” Venti interrupts from behind him, still leaning against his workstation, the project he was working on discarded and forgotten.

“Well, get in line,” Xiao quips back, taking the knife resting on the table and getting to work.

“Do you want me to help you with your project? Is that a way to win your affection?” Venti’s voice suddenly pops up from behind Xiao’s shoulder, almost making him jump on the spot.

“It is,” Xiao confirms, because he’s challenging himself by making triple layered consommé, which takes a ridiculous amount of prep and consists of way too many steps, and he’s not about to decline any help he can get. Venti gets a few quick instructions, and they both get to work on thinly slicing the ham and the lotus roots so they’re annoyingly the same length and width.

“When I was younger, I used to find cooking very tedious,” Venti breaks the silence, tongue resting between his teeth in concentration as he chops. “I still do sometimes, especially the prepping steps.”

“Cooking is fun when you do it with friends. Like right now,” Xiao says, voice as serious as he can manage and eyes looking at Venti sideways, trying to measure his reaction – he’s satisfied to see that it’s as he expected.

“What the fuck?” Venti blurts, stopping in his tracks and dropping the knife on the counter with a clank sound. He wipes his hands on his apron, mouth forming an almost perfect ‘o’ and eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Friends?”

“Yeah. Only friends.”

“You are indeed my best friend,” Venti agrees, and it sounds so matter of fact and sincere that it almost makes Xiao drop the façade, “But this is activating my fight or flight response.”

“I don’t understand why?” Xiao answers, way too innocently, and takes a moment to think. He looks up, mulling over what would be the option of words that would piss Venti off the most. “We’re just a couple of bros hanging out.”

“Xiao,” Venti warns, and he reaches out to the pocket in Xiao’s apron, fishing out the gold ring and waving it in front of the pastry chef’s eyes. He seems to intend to shove it into Xiao’s finger, but thinks twice about it when he lowers his eyes and finds that his hands are covered in ham fat – still, Venti points a threatening finger, the ring precariously hanging from it. “Don’t forget, you’re here forever.”

“That’s not even legally binding,” Xiao mutters under his breath after taking a good look at the ring.

“Oh, shut up,” despite himself, Venti chuckles, and leans forward to put the ring back in Xiao’s pocket with all the care in the world.

Cut.

“You know what the funny thing is?” Venti is standing in front of the camera, fiddling with a rolling pin between his hands while Childe and Xiangling are quietly working on the background. He stops himself and ponders on his words for a moment, but he seemingly decides to keep speaking. “This is oversharing, but I’m going to tell you anyways. I didn’t spend the night at my place, and I was able to get up, go to my apartment, shower and change clothes so nobody realizes I haven’t been home for four days,” he accidentally drops the rolling pin, and it makes an obnoxiously loud sound against the counter – Childe and Xiangling don’t even flinch. “And you’re telling me Xiao’s not even able to come in time to make breakfast with me. This is outrageous,” he’s not even done talking before a figure comes into frame at the very back of the room, and Venti turns around to face it. “Look who decided to show up!”

“Call time was nine thirty,” Xiao argues with an eyebrow raised, setting a paper bag on the table, taking his coat off, and putting his apron on in record time.

“Nine, I told you yesterday,” Venti argues back with a pout. “And even if it was nine thirty, you’re fifteen minutes late,” before Venti can complain any further, Xiao opens the bag and takes four drinks from Venti’s favorite coffee shop, placing two of them on the table and handing Childe, who had trotted to the filming table as soon as he had peeped the drinks, the other two. “I forgive you,” Venti immediately says, grabbing the cup and cradling it in his arms like a newborn child.

“You’re so easy,” Xiao sighs, and it earns him a hit on the arm. “Should we start?”

“Okay,” Venti agrees, taking a sip before speaking again, this time directly to the camera. “Xiao decided to teach you guys how to make fluffy pancakes. Please walk us over your thought process, chef.”

“Well,” Xiao starts, and he claps his hands together in a way that he would have never done before meeting Venti – they really need to stop spending every waking hour together. “Most people who follow us already have a basic knowledge of cooking, and I’ve seen some requests asking for a fluffy pancake recipe. It might seem a bit challenging, but they’re really easy to make.”

“They are,” Venti agrees, straw resting on his lips. “It’s just time consuming.”

“Also, I picked the recipe because fluffy pancakes remind me of you,” Xiao coos, reaching out a hand and pinching one of Venti’s cheeks, earning a surprised yelp from the other cook.

Venti argues that he chokes because it’s not very convenient to get your cheeks pinched when you’re drinking, Xiao argues that it’s because he got flustered – either way, it takes them ten minutes to be able to get back to filming.

Cut.

Venti is standing in front of the camera, ingredients laid out in front of him and babbling about some recipe he wants to try when, suddenly, there’s some movement at the kitchen’s door. Xiao walks in with a tiny mop of purple hair on toll, and, even without having any mics on them, the camera picks the loud “aw” sound coming from Xiangling and Childe, which makes Venti turn around to see what the fuss is all about.

“Qiqi!” he makes grabby hands at her, and she starts walking to where he’s standing. Without thinking twice, Venti picks her up and settles her against his hip – Xiao’s always been a bit awkward around children, not really knowing what to say to them, but everything seems to come to Venti as second nature.

“I have to babysit today,” Xiao says as he approaches the filming table, fond eyes not leaving Qiqi.

“Babysit?” Venti says, voice dripping with mock surprise. “That’s what you call taking care of your daughter now? That’s so rude of you.”

“She’s not–” Xiao starts, but he doesn’t even finish his sentence, sagging his shoulders and running a hand through his face. He turns to the camera to clarify, because he’s not about to have his friends call him panicking because they think he’s eloped or taken a serious life decision on a whim again . “We don’t have kids.”

Venti gasps, and turns around to talk to the little girl, trying to cover both of her ears with just one hand. “Don’t listen to papa, he’s a meanie.”

Xiao closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Venti.”

“Okay, okay. I will spare you the scandal,” Venti laughs, seeing the misery reflected on Xiao’s face, and it’s ridiculous how the sound makes Xiao’s heart clench. “Also, we don’t have kids yet .”

“You would be a terrible dad,” Xiao says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  Venti, who still doesn’t know how to properly clean his bathroom ( “Nobody taught me how to do this, Xiao, so I just douse everything with bleach and pray” ), who more often than not only has a dried-up lemon in his fridge and way too much caffeine on his bloodstream – but also Venti, who’s thoughtful, and sweet, always willing to learn and grow, and surprisingly good with kids.

“I would not,” Venti argues, voice offended, and brows furrowed – Xiao’s sure that if his arms were free he would be crossing them stubbornly. He turns to the little girl still in his arms, and asks with a sugary sweet voice, “Would I be a terrible dad, Qiqi?”

She takes a moment to reply, chubby hands playing with the braids framing Venti’s face, twirling them around between her fingers. Knowing her, Xiao doubts she was even paying attention to the conversation, but thanks the gods for her when she mutters a tiny: “Yes.”

Cut.

“Okay,” Venti starts, and he puts his hands in front of him, palms facing forwards. “I had an idea, I want to–”

“No,” Xiao interrupts, eyes fixed on the glass he’s drying off with a towel, knowing full well that everything that Venti prefaces with ‘I had an idea’ is more likely than not to give him a headache.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“And I said no.”

“We could do a Q&A video,” Venti keeps talking like Xiao didn’t veto his idea even before hearing it. “People are gossipy, and I always get a lot of mentions asking stuff about you and I.”

“I would need to check the questions you pick beforehand. You like oversharing a bit too much.”

“I think I deserve to have bragging rights,” Venti says sheepishly with a shrug. “You get questions too? What’s like… the most asked one?”

“The usual, you know,” Xiao shrugs, and tries to remember what kind of PG questions he’s been sent that he wouldn’t really mind answering. “When did we start dating, who said I love you first… I did.”

“Technically, I did,” Venti argues, and Xiao turns slowly to face him, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity in his expression.

“If you have to use the word technically , then it doesn't count.”

“Ok, but I confessed first,” Venti stubbornly says, and it’s technically true. He confessed first, albeit half-asleep and close to a food coma, but Xiao was the first one to say I love you with all his senses fully functioning.

“Fair enough,” Xiao concedes. “What’s the question you get the most?”

“If we’re ever going to release a sex tape,” Venti snorts, and Xiao hides his face in the towel he was using to dry off the glasses he needs to use for his project. It smells of musk and despair. “If anyone’s curious the answer is maybe .”

Cut.

“Hey everybody, it’s Venti from the Wanmin Test Kitchen,” Venti beams, clearly excited to be back in his hometown, and he swings a hand towards Xiao. “I’m here with Xiao in The Angel’s Share and today we’re going to be hooking up–” Venti catches himself and tries to correct his own words, but he starts giggling, which makes it kind of difficult. “Maybe not hooking up.”

“I mean,” Xiao intervenes, trying to hide a smile and failing miserably. “I know a lot of people would be into that.”

“ I would be into that,” Venti argues between chuckles, voice enthusiastic, and Xiao can hear Diluc loudly groan off-camera.

Cut.

“Many people have asked me ‘ Venti, how have you scored yourself a babe like Xiao? ’ and I have to tell you guys, it’s very easy,” Venti says, waving a whisk around and dropping batter droplets all over the counter. “First of all,” he lifts up a finger, “You have to be in love with him for months and let everyone but yourself know. Then,” he lifts a second finger, making it harder for himself to grip the whisk properly, “Create a misunderstanding, think he hates you, pine a bit, make him confront you because you’re being stupid and won’t talk to him.”

Venti isn’t being precisely quiet with his monologue, so the three other cooks can be seen in the background, dropping what they’re doing and stopping to listen with varying degrees of amusement – from Childe, who’s having the time of his life, to Xiangling, who’s looking at Venti fondly, to Xiao, who’s trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Last step is to basically be in a relationship with him but not notice until one of your coworkers calls you out on it,” Venti finishes off, and sticks the whisk back in the bowl he’s holding. “That’s it, really! It’s honestly not that hard, you guys.”

Xiao does not even have a mic on him, and he’s also standing two tables over, but his voice is clearly picked up by the camera, tone exasperated. “If you had been this self aware at the time it would have saved us many headaches.”

“But we got there,” Venti argues, giving the camera a smile and not even bothering to turn around to look at the other cook.

“Thank god,” Childe groans, throwing his hands to the sky dramatically. The video cuts to another clip, but Xiao’s watching experience gets interrupted by the screeching sound of the doorbell. He gets up from the couch so fast that he gets dizzy and walks up to the door, opening it without even checking the peephole to see who it is – he knows who it is.

Venti is standing there, wearing what Xiao is pretty sure are his pajamas under a raincoat, still dripping umbrella gripped in one hand. With only a beaming smile as a greeting, he steps inside and closes the door behind him, taking no time stepping into Xiao’s space and tightly wrapping his arms around him as he lets out a content sigh. “I missed you,” Venti whispers, hiding his face on the crook of Xiao’s neck.

“You saw me yesterday,” Xiao says with a chuckle, and nudges Venti’s chin with one of his fingers so he can lift it and properly give him a kiss.

“Still,” Venti says, bumping their noses together and finally taking his rainboots and coat off and walking into the apartment. He plops down on the sofa and starts telling Xiao about the dog he’s seen on his way over, and how he was the chonkiest he’s ever seen.  Xiao, however, is paying Venti close to no attention – he’s standing in the middle of the living room, eyes darting everywhere and fingers fidgeting, his mind clearly somewhere else. Venti seems to catch it immediately.

“Is something wrong?”

Xiao bites his lip and sighs, composing himself. “I have something for you, but please don’t freak out.”

Venti lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “You know I can’t promise that.”

“That’s fair,” Xiao agrees, and he walks over to one of the shelves, taking something from a box and sitting down next to Venti. “Here,” he shoves the object into Venti’s hand and closes his fingers around it.

Venti gives Xiao what can only be described as a reassuring smile before opening his hand, and stares at the set of keys resting on his palm. It takes him a few seconds to realize what the gesture means, but when he does, he snaps his head up, searching Xiao’s face for a sign that he’s reading the situation correctly. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Only if you want to,” Xiao replies, voice slightly panicky, not wanting to impose anything Venti’s not ready for.

He’s been thinking about asking Venti to move in for months now, but he never found a good opportunity to do so, or he chickened out at the last minute – he realistically knows that Venti would be up for it, and even if he weren’t if wouldn’t change anything between them, but he found it daunting either way.

“But you spend a lot of time here anyways, so I figured it would be easier like this? So I don’t have to open the door for you every time,” Xiao says, speaking faster than he usually does, and stumbling over his words, “Even if you’d rather not, it would be more comfortable for you to have a set of keys and come and go as you please.”

“Xiao…” Venti seems hazed, like he doesn’t believe what his eyes are seeing. He lets his gaze drop to his palm again, and he closes his fingers around the keys, clutching them tightly. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” he answers, not missing a beat and meaning it more than he has meant anything in his life. “Look, I even got us keychains,” Xiao fishes out a couple of keychains out of his pocket – one of them, with a bunch of kitchen utensils and a V; the other one, with random baking paraphernalia and a X. He hands the one with a V to Venti, who looks at it amusedly, twirling it between his fingers with a chuckle.

“Corny.”

“I can take it back if you don’t want it.”

“No!” Venti clutches the keychain against his chest and turns around slightly, fearing that Xiao will reach out and take it from him. “But I think it’s better like this,” he says, reaching a hand, taking Xiao’s keychain and replacing it with his own. “I have to tell you, though,” Venti mutters, hands fiddling as he struggles to get the keys into the loop. It takes him a moment, but he proudly presents his set of keys to Xiao, X dangling from it. “I can get a little annoying.”

“Venti, we’ve been together long enough that I don’t think I need a warning.”

“This is a big step,” Venti argues, brows furrowed, “I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t,” Xiao reassures, lifting his eyes from his own hand so he can look at Venti’s face – he’s biting his lower lip, but there’s a quiet resolution reflected on his face. “I love you,” he blurts out, the words leaving his mouth almost without him noticing. He’s said it a thousand times, but he will never grow tired of how Venti seems to deflate every time he hears the words, all tension seemingly leaving his body, how his eyes grow tender, and how a shy smile creeps up his lips.

“I love you too,” Venti replies, sincere as ever, and leans forward to catch Xiao’s lips with his own. They stay in silence for a moment, but it takes almost no time for Venti to start babbling about giving his landlord a month’s notice, and finally getting rid of annoying roommates, and having to hire several moving vans or something because he has way too much stuff, and he doesn’t think he can get rid of any of it.

Venti gets up from the sofa, restless energy oozing out of him, and walks to the kitchen to make some tea. Xiao follows him and leans against the kitchen doorframe, watching Venti move around, taking cups out of the cupboard, with the familiarity of someone who lives there – which Xiao guesses, he technically does now. He takes a few steps forward and hugs Venti from behind, arms tight around the other’s waist, and nuzzles into his neck, the familiar scent of cecilias filling his nose. He’s finally home.