Hiii! Is it to much to ask for another part of “to which he notice you’re frustration” but with Xiao and Chongyun? :)
YESSS id love to continue this series!!! I had a wee bit of trouble with Chongyun’s piece, but I hope it’s to your liking <3
Pairings: Xiao, Chongyun x gn!reader
Warnings: suggestive themes/dialogue (nothing actually happens, though), flirting, not proofread because i’m impatient
You couldn’t say where such an intense need had come from, or if something specific had caused it, but it’s presence was unyielding. Worse, it’s been one busy-bee-thing after the other today–a task here, too many people there, your help needed there…. You hadn’t had chance enough to take care of the problem yourself, let alone seek out your partner and ask him to sweep you away for much-needed relief.
Little did you know, he’d already taken note of your predicament. How the need flushed your cheeks and the discomfort made you seem ever-so-slightly…frustrated. And, well, how could he not offer to ease your burdens?
The kitchen of the Wangshu Inn was bustling today, and you were running about like a headless chicken. You’d scurried out into the fields, into the lake, and further out to other roadside markets, to hurriedly gather up all the ingredients you could. The chef was unusually short on it all day, and you’d no inkling as to why the number of diners had increased so suddenly.
Now the errand-running finally, blessedly was over, but you’ve been relegated to standing over the flaming stove to help the chef. Between the heat outside, the heat inside, and the heat burning within you, you’re thoroughly reduced to a sweaty, quivering mess.
Unbeknownst to you, Xiao has been observing you all day. The Vigilant Yaksha was cloaked in the corner of the kitchen, squinting harshly at you stirring and tossing woks. He’d sensed something different in you today but, human mannerisms being so foreign to him, couldn’t place it. Briefly he’d considered asking Verr Goldet about the issue, but something about the weakness of your body made him hesitate. Never had he witnessed your knees giving out under you, but you’d fallen twice in the gardens earlier, and just a moment ago he saw them buckle once more. A part of him knows from experience that it could be simple exhaustion, but that wouldn’t explain the odd energy radiating from you.
Just then you rush over, close to him, and crouch down to gather radishes from a crate. In that brief moment, he chooses to reveal himself.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, and his voice hits you like the shock of ice you desperately needed.
You gasp as you crane yourself back just enough to see Xiao bend over at the waist, caging you in against the shelves with that casual intimidation that comes so naturally to him...and looks so, so good. His hands grip the shelves tight, and your eyes flicker to catch the slightest flex in his forearms and biceps. The white of his shirt is tinted translucent with sweat in some sports from the sheer heat of the kitchen, leaving you with the taunting outline of his pecs. You’re not answering fast enough for his liking, so he leans down closer with a scowl.
“What. Is wrong. Tell me and I will fix it.” You balk at his words, and choke on another gasp. He doesn’t know what he’s offering, surely. Xiao was far too reserved to offer such things...right?
“Y-you don’t--X-Xiao, I’m ok, you’d don’t have to do...anything,” You manage to get out. Radishes in hand, you rise slowly, but Xiao doesn’t back away and you’re left feeling even more cornered by this attractive being. His eyes are now level with yours, and they’re all the more piercing.
He scans you shamelessly, looking over your body with such unyielding attention you feel bare. He can find no injury--nothing obvious, at least. But during his search he hears the shivers in your breath, and they remind him of another kind of weakness he’d experienced with you before.
Xiao pulls away suddenly, scoffing like he’s disgusted, but flushed red to betray his fluster. He turns and yells for the chef without warning, that he’s borrowing you, and then you’re off in a whirl of inhuman speed. A door slams, and Xiao is tossing you down on your own bed. He was scolding you, but your whirling, need-addled brain is just catching up.
“--ridiculous need, why didn’t you just tell me sooner?” Xiao doesn’t meet your eyes, choosing instead to busy himself removing your less intimate clothes and tossing them in a heap, your shoes, your apron, your overshirt....
“I-I didn’t want to bother you...and we’ve been so busy,” you manage to get out. But the fleeting firmness of his hands as he ghosts your clothes off is already drowning you. “W-we’re gonna...have to hurry, s-so I can go back--”
“No.” Xiao’s voice is firm. His hands press firmer into the bed on either side of your splayed hair.
“I will not ‘hurry.’ I will take however long I must to...t-to thoroughly satisfy you. Even if it takes all day.”
The sky was dark and oppressive as always in this area, despite it being early evening. Fireflies and ominous lanterns lit by wisps kept the dim area in a faint glow. Winds swept between tree branches, chilled to lifelessness, like they’d rushed all the way down from distant Dragonspine to tease your sensitive nerves.
Chongyun, of course, seemed to be handling the scenery just fine...up until it became clear that there wasn’t a ghost or demon to be known in the area. Yet another dead end, and all he had to show for it was a handful of cracked hilichurl masks.
“I...I’m sorry,” Chongyun sighs after a moment of hopelessly scanning your surroundings. It’s almost peaceful, with the crickets chirping in the distance. “It seems I’ve dragged you out here for nothing. Again.” He takes a seat on an old, mossy stone bench, looking quite disappointed. You shift to stand before him and gently push your fingers into his combat-tangled hair. He blushes at the affection, and it stirs your insides even more.
“It’s okay, I like spending time with you regardless.” You’d prefer to be spending your time doing something else...but weren’t quite sure how to bring it up. Chongyun and you had spent the better part of the day split up looking for leads, and now the best one had fallen flat. It wasn’t exactly unusual, but it was still hitting him hard. “I brought some snacks,” you add, figuring it would do him good, “do you want some?”
Chongyun sighs again, accepting. “Yeah, sure. We might as well take a breather before we trek all the way back to the Harbor.” You take off your bag and set it on the bench beside him, removing a small cold-storage container for Chongyun, and a warming one for yourself. The noodles inside them have gone just a little mushy with the waiting, but the salty flavor is still very nice after all your hiking. You move to sit down next to Chongyun in the small space that’s left, but at the same time he puts a hand out to stop you so he can make more room...only for the combined actions to send you into his lap.
Chongyun sputters and throws his bowl down to grab you before he can fully register your closeness. Though, when he does, he ends up looking like he’s been thrown into one of those saunas he talks about so much. By the end of that flurry of movement, you’re sat firmly on his legs with his arms around you tight. It doesn’t help the boiling of your blood.
“Y-you, uh...your body temperature is really high today,” he chokes out after steeling himself, suddenly avoiding your eyes. He’s probably consumed by thoughts of worry for his condition, but he continues, “Are you okay?”
“So you noticed….” Your hands rest on his shoulders, unable to help yourself.
“I did,” he admits with a nod. “I didn’t bring it up because we had work ahead. B-but...that’s done now. Do...uh….d-do you want me to...help? We’re alone out here.” He slowly chokes the words out through his embarrassment, fingers dancing over your hip and thighs like piano keys. If he kept going he’d certainly hear some kind of music.
“...you’d be walking home overheated,” you whisper close to his ear. Chongyun pouts just a little--how cute--and shakes his head.
“I’ve still got popsicles, and the cold noodles--” briefly you wonder if his cold storage bowl had survived being thrown and rolling under the bench-- “I can just have those...after….” His hands shake as they push under your shirt and touch the searing skin there, but he doesn’t back down. There’s hot-blooded determination in his glacial eyes.
“Besides, I’d rather douse your fire than worry about myself. It’s not often that I...let myself go.”