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“How we doing, kid?”
Xichen groans like he’s dying.
“That bad?”
“I need– Mm,” he pushes Mingjue’s hand away from his head and doesn’t finish.
“You need?”
“I need… McDonald’s hash browns.”
“Okay.” Agreeable.
“Orange juice.”
“From McDonald’s?”
“Mm,” he grunts again, but this time it means yes.
“What else?”
“Waffle House.”
“We don’t have Waffle House, babe.”
Xichen rolls onto his stomach and pulls the spare pillow over his head.
“When have you ever had Waffle House?” Mingjue asks. He pets the dragon’s storm clouds on Xichen’s back. “ Where have you had Waffle House?”
“With–” A big, big sigh beneath Mingjue’s hand. “With A-Ying.”
Of course. With A-Ying.
Mingjue pats the pillow over Xichen’s head just to hear him complain again, then leaves him alone. By the time he hauls himself out of bed, Xichen’s hands have gone limp in the sheets, very soundly back to sleep. Half naked in the kitchen, Mingjue makes coffee and orders McDonald’s on his phone.