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Chapter Text

“And what’s the catch?” Mu Qing asks Shi Qingxuan with a raised eyebrow. The two of them are sitting in a small cafe, watching the traffic speed by outside the large windows. It’s a Sunday, and usually, Mu Qing would be using the time to relax before his classes the next day, but Shi Qingxuan had invited him out to an informal brunch, telling Mu Qing she had a possible solution to Mu Qing’s housing crisis. It wasn’t exactly a crisis, he was living in the dorms, but the university was threatening to give him a new roommate—after his last one took one look at Mu Qing and bailed on him—or have him find other housing if he didn’t want a roommate. The only problem was that all the suite style and one-person dorms were filled this late in the semester, and Mu Qing wasn’t too excited to pay extra rent in one of the shitty apartment buildings closest to campus.

Shi Qingxuan makes a motion sort of like a wince, and Mu Qing has a sudden bad feeling about this. The smaller woman guiltily looks at him as she says, “The catch is that you will have to get a roommate. When mentioning you for a possible lease transfer, the landlord said the only way you’ll be considered is if a roommate is moving in with you.”

There it is. Really, Mu Qing shouldn’t be surprised. Shi Qingxuan was moving out of that apartment and into a bigger, nicer one with He Xuan. He should have known from the way they talked about it that it was one of those new, couple's apartments that the city had been advertising for a time, as a way to increase profit, minimize space, and make things ‘safer’ for those living downtown. 

“The staff doesn’t have to know you aren’t actually dating whoever you chose, but I’ll warn you now, they made us participate in social gatherings where you will have to pretend.” Shi Qingxuan sounds more smug at his predicament than Mu Qing would like, but she is doing a nice thing for him, so he struggles to keep calm. 

“I have half a mind to walk out of this cafe right now.” Mu Qing threatens emptily, putting his head into his hands as he debates with himself. He does need an apartment and the rent reduction that comes with being recommended by Shi Qingxuan would be very nice, but Mu Qing is more worried about finding someone who wants to room with him. He shouldn’t be considering this, but, so far it is his best option. 

“You could always ask—” Shi Qingxuan starts, and Mu Qing’s head snaps up to level a deadly glare at the woman.

“If you say his name, I’m walking out of here.” 

She raises her hands in the form of surrender, and he chooses to ignore the smirk tugging at her lips. “Very well, but it never hurts to ask.” 

Later that same day, Mu Qing is cursing himself, Shi Qingxuan, and everything in the universe that has led up to this moment as he stares at the phone in his hand. He’s out of options, and he needs that apartment, even if it means making a choice that might very well drive him insane. He’s pressing the call button before he can talk himself out of it, listening to his phone ring as he waits for the person on the other end to pick up.

“Mu Qing?” Feng Xin’s voice crackles out of the speaker, sounding confused, which he has every right to, considering Mu Qing never calls him unless he can’t help it, and even does his best to avoid him on campus. 

“I’ve found an apartment I can move into.” Mu Qing tells him flatly as he starts pacing around the small floor space in his dorm. 

“That’s great, but why did you call me?” Feng Xin isn’t unaware of Mu Qing’s current predicament, as Mu Qing is very well aware that almost anything he says to Xie Lian, will be told to Feng Xin. He wouldn’t be surprised if Xie Lian hasn’t told Feng Xin to try and help him out in an effort to get all three of them talking to each other—without going through another person—again. 

“Because I need a roommate.” And before Feng Xin can open his mouth to ask once again what this has to do with him, Mu Qing explains what Shi Qingxuan told him this morning. Well, except for the possible fake-dating part. He doesn’t want to scare Feng Xin away, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he needs his help for this.

“Why are you asking me?” Feng Xin once again can’t help but ask. “Xie Lian would happily —”

“You know as well as I do that Xie Lian is now a packaged deal with Hua Cheng, and that sounds like hell.” Mu Qing can’t believe he’s having to explain this.

“Then, what about. . . Ling Wen!”

“You also know what a pain she is during finals week, and I don’t get along with her well enough to live with her.”

“Well, I’m sure —”

“Feng Xin.” Mu Qing grits out, halting the other man as he scrambles to think of anyone else who’s not attached at the hip to someone else. “I am asking you because you are my last option.” Technically not true, as Feng Xin is the first person he’s called, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh. Okay, has Shi Qingxuan mentioned the rent?”

Mu Qing repeats the number Shi Qingxuan had told him and listens to the sounds of Feng Xin’s usual fidgeting go quiet across the line.

“There’s no way it’s that low, this has to be like, a cult or something.”

“Shi Qingxuan mentioned me, so apparently, recommendations get lower rent. And, at this point, I couldn’t care if it's some sort of cult.”

“Well, have you set up a meeting with the landlord yet?”

“No, but I can have a meeting by tomorrow evening.”

“Alright. Just, let me know. I guess Pei Ming will be glad to have the apartment to himself now.” Feng Xin muses, and then, with a clipped goodbye, Mu Qing hangs up. 

He finally quits pacing to slump down on his bed and put his head in his hands. There is absolutely no way he is going to survive this. Part of the reason Mu Qing fell out with Feng Xin is that for as long as he remembers, he’s had the worst crush on him, but hey, he was dealing with it! At least, he was until Feng Xin started dating Jian Lan in their freshman year of college, and then Mu Qing was, according to Xie Lian, way more hostile than usual, and couldn’t stop himself from starting fights every chance he got. So, Mu Qing distanced himself, and by the time Feng Xin and Jian Lan broke up, after a whole two months of dating, Mu Qing was so far away that he barely acknowledged Feng Xin when passing him on campus, or in their shared classes. 

He thought he’d been over his stupid crush, but when he began to allow Xie Lian to pull him back into his circle of friends, he discovered he hadn’t gotten over the other man, at all. Just buried his feelings deep enough that he thought he did. He’s not sure what Feng Xin thinks about him anymore, but he knows Xie Lian has at least kept that secret, even though his horrible boyfriend keeps telling Mu Qing it’s not much of a secret. 

For probably the hundredth time today, Mu Qing curses Shi Qingxuan as he texts her that he found a roommate, though he hadn’t prepared for her immediate text back, in all caps, asking if he asked him, and then, a second after, another text, sending the landlords information over. 

Mu Qing doesn’t bother responding to Shi Qingxuan’s text as he drags his laptop over to him to start writing out his email to the landlord, asking if it would be possible to meet after his—and Feng Xin’s—last class tomorrow. 

Once he finishes, he looks up the apartment building once more, sending the website to Feng Xin. Mu Qing knows how nice the building is, well aware that most of the reason Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan were staying there was that Shi Qingxuan’s brother, Shi Wudu, was paying for it. He’s also aware that without the discount the landlord so kindly offered them, he would never have been able to dream of living somewhere that fancy, and he’s more than well aware of how fishy it sounds, but he can’t really find it in himself to care too much. As he’s scrolling through the building’s advertised experiences and activities, his phone chimes. 

Feng Xin: there is no fucking way this isn’t a scam

Feng Xin: also, why the hell is Qingxuan moving out from there??

Mu Qing: Tomorrow’s interview will confirm if it is or isn’t. And I didn’t ask her. 

Mu Qing: I didn’t need to be subjected to details of her love life, but if you want all the details, nothing is stopping you from asking her yourself.

Feng Xin reads his text but doesn’t respond, and so Mu Qing huffs and turns off his phone, placing it on the small nightstand next to his extremely shitty dorm bed, pulling up one of his assignments to complete as the night progresses. 

The next day, Mu Qing tries to actually make an effort toward Feng Xin whenever he sees him. He manages to give a polite nod back whenever Feng Xin greets him in their shared classes—which is most of their mandatory degree requisites, as they’ve been in almost all the same classes for as long as they’ve known each other. Even for the classes they don’t share, they’re heading in the same direction, and so Mu Qing, for the first time in years, doesn’t speed up to prevent Feng Xin from catching up to him. 

Neither makes a move to talk, but the silence between them is mostly easy, and as Mu Qing silently drops Feng Xin off at the hall where his next class is held, he hopes that this won’t be too difficult. 

This is perhaps the longest they have gone without fighting, and of course, Mu Qing is the one to ruin it. They’re outside the building that will hopefully house their new apartment, both dressed their best for the interview that’s scheduled in a few minutes when Mu Qing finally tells Feng Xin the catch.

“We have to what?” Feng Xin hisses, trying his best not to create a scene.

“You heard me. I don’t like it either, but this is the best offer we’ll get.” Mu Qing tells him icily.

“And you refused to mention this earlier because?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t agree.”

“How would you know that if you never asked me?” He hears Feng Xin mutter before blowing out a breath. “Alright, fine just don’t bite my head off for this later.”

Mu Qing opens his mouth to say something but quickly stops when Feng Xin grabs his hand and laces his fingers with Mu Qing’s. His eyes dart up from their joined hands to Feng Xin’s face, and he can feel the blush rising to his cheeks. His only consolation is that Feng Xin’s also blushing, though it's less noticeable on his darker skin. 

“Now, shall we, baobei?” Feng Xin asks him quietly, and Mu Qing’s stomach drops. Fortunately, he recovers fast as he follows Feng Xin into the lobby of the building, walking alongside Feng Xin and holding his hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

Mu Qing easily informs the attendant at the desk why they’re here, but as he does, his mind keeps repeating the way Feng Xin had used the pet name so easily. He has half a mind to berate Feng Xin for it the second they leave, but he tells himself it’s all part of the charade, and, a quieter part of him knows he wouldn’t object to hearing it leave Feng Xin’s lips again. 

He drags himself back into the present as they stand in the elevator, waiting for it to bring them to their destination. Beside him, Feng Xin fidgets, and Mu Qing squeezes his hand, trying to signal him to stop. 

Feng Xin turns to him with a small smile, and Mu Qing tries to ignore the way his breath halts at it, and at the sight of Feng Xin in a well-pressed suit jacket that hints at the strong lines of his biceps underneath the layers of fabric. The elevator chooses that moment to ding, signaling they’ve arrived, and Mu Qing is grateful that he won’t have the chance to make a fool of himself.

Their interview goes smoothly, with the two of them falling into the charade of a happy couple easily. A little too easily, for Mu Qing’s liking. He’s honestly unsure if he’ll be able to escape this unscathed. But, he feels like their chances of getting the apartment are good, good enough that he won’t stress over it until he gets a call. 

“How did we do?” Feng Xin asks him as soon as they step back out onto the street. He’s still holding Mu Qing’s hand in his, almost like he’s forgotten about it, but Mu Qing won’t be the one to remind him. 

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Mu Qing tells him easily, then, “I think they bought it, though.” 

Feng Xin actually smiles at him then, a big, dopey, happy smile that Mu Qing hasn’t seen in years, and he chooses to ignore how much the sight hurts his heart. Instead, Mu Qing says, “You’re. . . not too bad at this.” That’s the closest he’ll get to a compliment, and Feng Xin is well aware, but he doesn’t mind. 

Less than a full twenty-four hours have passed before Mu Qing gets a call back. He answers the call the second he reads the number, recognizing it as the landlord’s. As he swipes the button to answer it, his chest suddenly feels tight, and his palms start sweating, even though he had done his best to convince himself that there was a very high chance they got the apartment. 

Mu Qing manages to make his way through a couple of minutes of easy small talk, even though he feels that he might pass out at any moment, though he’s suddenly very grateful that he’s alone so no one will see him freak out over something that is probably way less serious than he’s treating it. Finally, he hears the landlord pause, as if waiting for dramatic effect, and then he hears the words he’d been hoping for. Mu Qing is told that the apartment is theirs. He feels the breath that was held tight in his lungs whoosh out of him, in a nearly audible sigh of relief as he thanks the landlord, asking when he and Feng Xin can start moving in. 

Twenty minutes later, he’s sending a text to Feng Xin, not much more than a couple of words.

Mu Qing: We got it.

Feng Xin: no way it was that fast

Feng Xin: you’re fucking with me

Mu Qing: We can start moving in on Friday.

Feng Xin: I still think this is some sort of cult thing.

Feng Xin: I mean, why else would He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan move out? Especially if Shi Wudu was paying the rent.

Feng Xin: I take it back, He Xuan is the cult. And the Shi siblings are in on it.

Before either of them knows it, it’s Friday, and Mu Qing is loading the few boxes he has into Feng Xin’s car. With how few possessions they both have, it doesn’t take too long to fully unpack, and while it’s a fully furnished apartment, Mu Qing can tell it will take a while to make it feel lived-in. There are at least two bedrooms, both with beds already, and Mu Qing is very grateful for the existence of guest bedrooms, which is no doubt what one of them was meant to be. He doesn’t think he’d have been able to survive sharing a single room and bed with Feng Xin and probably would’ve volunteered to take the couch to save himself any embarrassment. 

“It’s getting late,” Feng Xin calls through the open door of the room he had claimed. “Do you just wanna order takeout?”

“Sure, you pick for tonight.” Mu Qing calls back, preoccupied with unfolding his clothes into the dresser in his own room. Both bedrooms are around the same size as his old dorm room, but without an extra set of furniture for another person, it feels better, and, it’s already way nicer. 

The only thing Mu Qing could probably do without is the fact that his and Feng Xin’s rooms share a wall. He’s more than well aware of Feng Xin’s habit of listening to his music on full blast, and he already knows that’s gonna keep him up more nights than he would want. But, after living in dorms for a few years now, that would honestly be much preferable to some of the things he’s had to listen to through much thinner walls. 

Thirty minutes later, their doorbell rings and the sound of Feng Xin’s steps down the hallway confirm it's their takeout. Mu Qing unpacks one of the last things in his box, a framed photo of a much younger him, posing in front of a river with his mother behind him, one of the only photos he still has of her before she succumbed to the illness that had haunted her for his entire life. 

Mu Qing sets down the picture before he can dwell on it, leaving his room and heading to the table where Feng Xin is already opening the plastic containers. 

“Did you tip?” Mu Qing asks as he slides into the chair opposite Feng Xin, taking the container he hands him.

“Of course I fucking tipped, I’m not a monster.” Feng Xin scoffs, and he can feel himself get instantly defensive, as he’s learned to throughout all the years of knowing Mu Qing. But Mu Qing doesn’t pursue the topic, calling him some kind of name or anything else, he just opens the container and stops short at what’s inside.

“You never even asked what I wanted, how did you know what I wanted to eat?” Inside the plastic container is a generous helping of Lo Mein noodles, bright orange carrot slices, and slivers of cabbage hidden throughout. 

“It hasn’t been that long, I remember what you order.” Feng Xin tells him. Back in High School, before the three of them, him, Mu Qing, and Xie Lian fully fell apart, they used to go to a small Chinese place not too far from their school, and went there often enough that Feng Xin remembers both of their orders by heart. 

Mu Qing slightly scowls down at his food, though Feng Xin has no idea why, and he’s worrying Mu Qing might not have wanted the Lo Mein, Mu Qing starts eating, and at the familiar taste, his face relaxes. It’s a little disconcerting, how Mu Qing isn’t leaping into fights like he used to the second he saw Feng Xin’s face, so Feng Xin supposes it’s because he’s trying to make an effort, now that they’ll be living together. 

They’re both silent as they eat, but for once, it’s not too awkward, and Mu Qing uses the time to study the space around them in an effort to not stare at Feng Xin. Behind him, the light streaming into the room through the large living room window slowly starts to shift as dusk approaches, and even without many personal touches, the apartment feels like it won’t be too much work to make it feel more friendly. There’s a small kitchen behind Feng Xin, and the combination of the light streaming in and the lightly colored walls make it feel bigger and brighter. There’s enough open space in the living room for easy movement, despite the large couch already taking up space in the center of the floor. 

A sizeable flatscreen TV sits mounted on the wall across from the window, and next to it is a large, empty bookshelf. From here, Mu Qing can see down the hallway where the doors to their rooms sit, and where their bathroom and laundry, and dryer are. It’s not a bad space, though if they didn’t have that discount from Shi Qingxuan on rent, it's possible that they would’ve been overpaying for the size of it though. 

As Mu Qing is studying the room, his phone dings, interrupting the silence. Feng Xin looks over at the noise, watching as Mu Qing’s face shifts, each expression more complicated than the last. 

“Do I want to know?” Feng Xin asks, raising a brow. Wordlessly, Mu Qing just flips his phone around so he can read the screen. It’s a text from their landlord, and for a beat, Feng Xin’s terrified they’ve been found out, or their rent is rising, a hundred bad scenarios running through his mind before he can read the actual message. It’s an effort for Feng Xin to stop the thoughts running through his head and start reading, and as he does, those thoughts all vanish.

“Okay, it’s just a complex-wide gathering to get to know our neighbors, what could go wrong?”

“Only the fact that they might find out that we’re not actually dating.” Mu Qing says, a scowl twisting his face as he goes to stab his noodles with his chopsticks. 

“So then we don’t let them figure it out.” Feng Xin’s saying before he can think better of it. 

Mu Qing’s eyes shoot back up to meet his, and Feng Xin could’ve sworn there was a slight blush on his cheeks. 

Despite the sight, Mu Qing’s voice is as smooth as ever, his usual condescending lilt back in his tone. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“Simple. We practice.” He’s in too deep, there’s no way Feng Xin can pretend like he never said anything now. As he finishes speaking, he moves before Mu Qing can get a word in. “How does that sound, Qing-er?” Feng Xin’s hand moves to smooth a few stray strands of Mu Qing’s dark hair out of his face, heart pounding as his fingers brush against the other man’s soft cheek. The look on Mu Qing’s face makes the movement worth it, even though Feng Xin will probably get his head chewed off in the next second for trying it. 

However, Mu Qing doesn’t explode, instead, Feng Xin watches his eyes grow wide, and his blush deepens to the point where it’s definitely noticeable now, and not just Feng Xin’s wishful thinking. But perhaps the thing that shocks Feng Xin the most is the way Mu Qing grabs his hand, keeping it on his cheek, and presses a soft kiss to Feng Xin’s rough palm. 

“Very well, A-Xin ” Mu Qing’s voice is low, the combination of the feeling of Mu Qing’s lips and the sound of the nickname sending a current through him. Feng Xin fights not to pull his hand away, letting it fall onto the table between them. 

“We need to work on a story.” Mu Qing says, pushing away from the table a little unsteadily, closing his takeout box, and picking up the trash on the table, which includes Feng Xin’s empty box. “How long have we been dating?” He asks Feng Xin, turning away to toss the trash.

“Five months.” Feng Xin answers after a beat, trying to come up with something believable. 

“We’ve been dating for five months and just moved in together?” Mu Qing scoffs from across the kitchen.

“That’s literally what Qingxuan and He Xuan did!” Feng Xin protests at the other’s back. 

“Fine. How did we meet?”

“In Kindergarten. Xie Lian saw you sitting alone and made you sit with us.” At Mu Qing’s look that he tossed over his shoulder, Feng Xin says, “What? There has to be some truth in there.”

“Then why did we start dating?”

At this, Feng Xin pauses for a second, trying to think of a reason. “We reconnected after  falling out during High School, and it just kind of happened from there?” That wasn’t too far from the truth, which was probably the easiest thing to say when it came to situations like this. Not that this was a normal situation. 

Mu Qing didn’t say anything, just nodded his head. Feng Xin took that as his cue to further try and fluster him. He was quickly discovering this was vastly preferable to getting Mu Qing spitting mad and was just as easy. 

“Thank you, baobei. ” Feng Xin said as he stood up from the table and crossed the kitchen in a few long steps, placing his hand on Mu Qing’s shoulder as he darted his head forward to press a kiss against his cheek. 

Feng Xin was unable to miss the way Mu Qing stood ramrod straight at his touch, going so still that Feng Xin was worried he wasn’t breathing. However, his cheeks colored quickly, pale skin doing nothing to hide the rush of color. He hadn’t missed how Mu Qing had reacted previously to the pet name, and while he wanted to keep that secret tucked away for a while, he couldn’t help but bring it out now. 

“What-” Mu Qing starts, voice a few octaves lower, and more breathless than usual, a sound Feng Xin usually only hears when they’re fighting. He stops himself before he can say whatever he means to ask, squeezing his eyes shut. Feng Xin starts to draw back, concerned, but before he can, Mu Qing spins around in his grip, hands coming up to Feng Xin’s face. Feng Xin swears he can see him mouth the word, “practice.” before Mu Qing closes the distance and presses his lips to Feng Xin’s.

Feng Xin’s mind blanks out, and all he can feel is the press of Mu Qing’s very soft lips against his own, currently motionless until his brain unfreezes and he responds in kind. The kiss isn’t exactly soft, with the two of them pushing against each other, trying to gain the upper hand. Mu Qing is a little sloppy, but Feng Xin doesn’t care, his only thought is that Mu Qing is kissing him.

The thought makes Feng Xin release a sound not unlike a growl as he pushes forward, hands landing on Mu Qing’s hips as he pulls the other man forward, sending him stumbling slightly into his strong chest. Mu Qing just bites his bottom lip at the sound, and Feng Xin can’t stop himself from grabbing Mu Qing’s ass, his hands hefting Mu Qing up off the floor and roughly placing him on the kitchen counter.

Mu Qing groans as he’s lifted up, not breaking the kiss as his legs wrap around Feng Xin’s waist, trying to pull him closer. 

For the next few minutes, the only thing in the quiet of the apartment is their heaving pants as they surge against each other, unwilling to separate even for air. They both know that the second they break away, the spell will break, and neither will be able to deal with the newfound desire lingering in the air. At some point, Feng Xin’s tongue had slipped into Mu Qing’s mouth, licking into him as if wanting to devour Mu Qing. 

With no space between them, it’s impossible for Feng Xin not to notice the evidence of Mu Qing’s desire poking at him through the fabric of his dark skinny jeans, and even harder to ignore his own, pressed between his body and the edge of the countertop. 

Feng Xin forces himself to withdraw, though Mu Qing tries to follow the retreat of his mouth, his eyes still closed. “Do you think that’s sufficient enough practice, or should we keep going?” Feng Xin asks, voice hoarse as he struggles to regain his breath. 

Mu Qing’s eyes open, eyes cloudy with lust. His face instantly colors as he returns to himself. “I-I think that’s enough for tonight.” He stutters, voice quieter than Feng Xin has probably ever heard it. 

Feng Xin moves a step back from the counter, even as his expression shifts into confusion. He had been trying to make a small joke, not expecting Mu Qing to curl into himself. 

“Mu Qing-” He starts, reaching a hand out as Mu Qing hops off the counter. He dodges, it, swiftly walking out of the kitchen, despite the discomfort he must be feeling. His door slams closed before Feng Xin can say anything else. 

Left alone in the kitchen, Feng Xin drags a hand down his face, sighing heavily as he does. This is going to be a problem. And he’s not just talking about the one still throbbing between his legs.

Chapter Text

Fucked. Mu Qing is Fucked. The second his door closes, he flops onto his bed, flinging his arm over his eyes as he squeezes them shut. He is so stupid . Mu Qing knew he would get himself into trouble at one point during this whole ordeal, he just didn’t think it would be so soon. He thought he would have been able to hide his stupid desires easier, and not make a fool of himself on the first night. 

In the silence of the apartment, Mu Qing can hear the sound of Feng Xin’s steps down the hall, and moments later, the sound of a door shutting and then running water. Mu Qing lets a harsh sigh escape his mouth, he just hopes Feng Xin won’t call this off immediately, put off by Mu Qing’s reaction to a simple—well, makeout session. Under the sound of running water filling the quiet apartment, Mu Qing finally slides his hands down to undo his jeans, cursing himself and his stupidity the entire time. 

Mu Qing doesn’t leave his room until the next morning, and at the sight of Feng Xin’s closed door, breathes easier as he makes his way into the kitchen. Half awake, he goes through the motions of making coffee, grabbing a piece of fruit to munch on while he does so. 

When the coffee machine beeps at him to tell him it’s done, it’s the remembrance of last night that makes Mu Qing leave enough coffee for another mug in the pot, kind of as a way to apologize for his behavior, not that he’d ever admit it. As if on cue, Feng Xin’s door opens right as Mu Qing finishes pouring his coffee. 

Mu Qing absolutely does not tense up, waiting for Feng Xin to tell him he’s moving out, but instead, the other man just pads up behind him. Feng Xin is dressed in his gym apparel, dark grey sweats, and a black tank top, one that leaves his muscled forearms on view, not that Mu Qing notices. 

Feng Xin says nothing, not even a ‘good morning’, but his mood is relaxed, and still a little bit sleepy, but not tense or disgusted. That allows Mu Qing to untense as he steps away from the kitchen counter, cradling his hot coffee mug as he sits at the dining table. He silently watches as Feng Xin starts making his protein shake for the morning. 

“What?” Feng Xin frowns when he looks over his shoulder to see Mu Qing’s face scrunched up in his direction.

“I don’t understand how you can stomach those,” Mu Qing says, jerking his chin towards the drink in question. “Let alone willingly drink them for breakfast.”

Feng Xin scoffs, but he feels himself relaxing at the usual snarkiness of Mu Qing, glad to put off talking about what happened last night. Or, more accurately, what didn’t happen. “Don’t be dramatic, they’re not that bad. When’s the last time you even had one?”

“The time Xie Lian and I tried drinking your entire shake when you turned away, and yes, they are that bad. I’ve never had anything that tasted more like dirt.” Mu Qing rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“And that was how many years ago now?” Feng Xin snarks back, grinning as he leans against the counter. “You could always give them another try.”

“No thanks, I’d rather not ruin my Saturday morning by tasting dirt .” 

Feng Xin throws a hand over his heart dramatically, “How dare you!” He isn’t sure when their banter turned from full-on fights to this, but he doesn’t mind, and it helps alleviate all worries about what their new, reformed friendship might be like. 

“I’m heading to the gym in about an hour, you’re welcome to join if you want. Though I’d recommend eating something more than coffee, but at least it won’t be my dirt shake, as you called it.” 

To Feng Xin’s surprise, Mu Qing appears to hesitate, as if contemplating the offer. But ultimately, he shakes his head. “I should finish my homework before tonight.”

Briefly, Feng Xin blanks on what plans Mu Qing had that night, before remembering what got them into this whole mess. “Oh shit, right. Then I’ll see you in a few hours?”

Mu Qing nods. He does actually have homework, though it isn’t due for another week or so, but truthfully, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle seeing Feng Xin at the gym. There was a time when the two of them and Xie Lian went regularly in high school, which did nothing for his crush on Feng Xin, just strengthened it. Plus, he doesn’t want to keep doing things that might mess up whatever new friendship they have between them. 

Mu Qing drifts back to his bedroom, coffee mug in hand as Feng Xin starts getting ready to leave. There’s something comforting about the sounds of someone else moving around in the apartment. Though Mu Qing doesn’t wish to examine if that’s just because of a general presence, or if it’s directly tied to the person currently shuffling around. 

The afternoon passes by quicker than Mu Qing would have liked, and suddenly, it's time for them to get ready. Currently, he’s mulling over which clothes to wear, trying to find a mix of something formal to make a good impression, but something also casual, so it doesn’t appear like he’s trying too hard. 

“Mu Qing?” He hears Feng Xin’s voice carry down the hall. 

Scowling, Mu Qing pokes his head out of his room, only to see Feng Xin standing in the doorway of the bathroom, wearing only a towel, hanging dangerously low over his hips. “You are not going dressed in a towel .” Mu Qing hisses, cheeks pink. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.”

“Obviously I won’t be going in a towel,” Feng Xin sounds almost offended. “And you should be used to this sight, baobei. ” Mu Qing doesn’t miss the way Feng Xin’s lips curl up as he uses the nickname. Oh, Mu Qing is so dead if Feng Xin starts walking around the apartment in nothing but a towel. 

“But I wanted to ask if the text said anything about how we should dress.” Feng Xin finishes, putting a brief hold on trying to antagonize Mu Qing. 

“All it said was that we shouldn’t worry about bringing anything. So dress nice, but not too nice.” Mu Qing tells him, struggling to keep his blush under control. He ducked back into his room after saying that, trying anything to get the image of Feng Xin’s toned and muscled abdomen out of his mind. Once again, Mu Qing truly didn’t know if he could come out of this arrangement unscathed. 

Eventually, Mu Qing just decides to stick with his nicest pair of black slacks and a grey sleeveless turtleneck. He decides to forgo a coat, cause even in mid-September, it’s still warm enough outside to not need one. There’s still about half an hour left before the gathering actually starts, so they don’t even need to leave for another hour or so.

Mu Qing drifts down the hallway to Feng Xin’s room, wondering how badly the other might have misinterpreted the need to “dress nice, but not too nice”. Feng Xin’s door is open, so Mu Qing stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame. To his surprise, Feng Xin looks like he’s actually tried, he’s in one of his black gym tank tops, though Mu Qing notes it must be one of his nicer, newer ones, and a pair of dark jeans. His long brown hair is pulled into a high topknot, his signature style. A coat is thrown haphazardly on his bed, and Feng Xin is sitting down on it, in the midst of pulling on his socks. 

He looks up at Mu Qing, who tries to ignore the was Feng Xin’s gaze rakes across his exposed arms. While he’s not as much of a gym bro as Feng Xin, Mu Qing still makes it a point to go to the gym as often as he can, and for some reason, it always shocks people to see how much muscle is on his lithe form. Mu Qing is beginning to open his mouth to snap at Feng Xin, hackles raising, but then Feng Xin’s gaze meets his, and he sees the way the other stops.

“What?” Mu Qing can’t hold it back any longer, beginning to frown. He thought Feng Xin had left his habit of teasing Mu Qing about his appearance in the past. 

“I haven’t seen you wear eyeliner in. . . years.” Feng Xin says softly, and, just like that, Mu Qing feels himself relax, no longer bracing for a fight.

“It hasn’t been that long, but there’s no reason for me to wear it if all I’m doing is going to my classes.” Mu Qing scoffs. A few years ago, he never would have dared to leave his dorm without some form of makeup, but now, he’s finding it harder to care what people’s first impression of him is. They usually end up leaving him anyway, once they realize how much of an asshole he is. 

“It looks. . . nice.” Feng Xin manages, feeling the heat in his cheeks, and praying his tanned, golden skin doesn’t show his blush easily. 

Mu Qing hums. “Look at you, I’m surprised you actually got it right this time.” He says, inclining his head towards Feng Xin’s outfit. 

“Oh fuck off, that was years ago.” Feng Xin is just glad they’ve switched to a different topic, even if that topic is ribbing him. In their youth, when Xie Lian’s parents were still alive, Xie Lian would bring the two of them along with him to the social gatherings they threw, their decadent, rich people parties. And Feng Xin, so woefully unaware of the unspoken dress code, one time showed up in his —thankfully clean — gym wear, sweats and all. Since then, Mu Qing has never let him forget it, even going as far as barging into wherever he had lived at the time just to ensure Feng Xin didn’t embarrass them again. 

“Even still, I won’t let you be the one to fuck this up.” It’s hard to ignore the way Mu Qing’s mind begins to convince him that that’s his job. That once Feng Xin discovers just how long Mu Qing’s liked him, he’ll leave him for good. Mu Qing does his best to shove those thoughts down, and focus his attention on the task ahead of them. 

“What time is it?” Feng Xin asks, pointedly choosing not to go down the route of which one of them will fuck this up first. 

“Six-thirty. It starts at seven, which means we won’t need to start heading there until seven-fifteen.” 

“Look at you, I’m sure the Xies would be delighted to see you taking their lessons to heart.” Ever since Xie Lian basically appointed Mu Qing as his friend all those years ago in kindergarten, he got to tag along with him and Feng Xin at all of Xie Lian’s family events, even though he was always terrified someone would find out just how much he didn’t belong in high society. He’d grown up in poverty with a single mother, never dreaming he’d ever get to even see things as extravagant as those parties. The Xies, for their part —Xie Lian especially — never minded bringing him along, and despite Mu Qing’s protests that he couldn’t pay them back, bought him things nice enough to feel like he belonged, if briefly. 

“And I’m sure they would be horrified to see you.” Mu Qing responded flatly, any amusement in him dimming at the reminder of the past. 

“Mu Qing —” Feng Xin calls, and Mu Qing pointedly turns away, not wishing to see the hint of pity he knows is in Feng Xin’s eyes. 

“I’m going to grab a coat.” Mu Qing interrupts him, already heading back to his own room. Feng Xin doesn’t call him again, much to his relief. Instead of grabbing a coat, Mu Qing sits down at his desk, pulling out his phone. There’s a new text, and, when he notices the name of the sender, he’s only surprised it took this long.

Xie Lian: Qingxuan just told me about your new apartment, I’m so happy for you!

Xie Lian: How is it? Do you want me to bring some food over for you guys soon?

Mu Qing picks up on the true meaning of Xie Lian’s text immediately, and despite himself, smiles as he sends a text back. 

Mu Qing: Everything is fine, and no, I haven’t kicked him out yet. 

Mu Qing: We don’t require food, but you’re welcome over anytime. 

Mercifully, Xie Lian doesn’t press him for any details yet, though he knows it’s only a matter of time. Instead, Mu Qing just summarizes how their apartment is so far, and the event they’re going to tonight, though he makes sure to leave out any mention of the fact that he and Feng Xin have to pretend to date. But if Shi Qingxuan has already talked to Xie Lian, there’s no way he doesn’t know. That will just have to wait until later, Mu Qing has no desire to be the one to bring it up. 

Another half hour later, Mu Qing is locking up the apartment behind him and Feng Xin. Feng Xin decides not to comment on the fact that Mu Qing isn’t bringing along a coat, despite his words, and the fact that the gathering will be on the rooftop. 

“If there’s like, five iron chairs up there and nothing else, can we leave after thirty minutes?” Feng Xin mutters under his breath as they head for the elevator. 

Mu Qing feigns a pause, lips quirking up. “Forty-five minutes, and then we can go. It wouldn’t do well to leave a bad impression.”

Feng Xin pretends to huff as they step into the elevator, and Mu Qing pushes the button for the roof. As the doors close, Feng Xin turns his head a bit to the side, and, carefully watching Mu Qing’s expression, nudges his hand. 

Mu Qing rolls his eyes, but, to Feng Xin’s surprise, reaches for his hand himself. “Remember to be convincing, A-Xin. Pretend like you don’t hate me for a couple of hours.”

“I don’t —” Feng Xin starts, brows furrowing, but is interrupted by the press of Mu Qing’s lips against his cheek, and the elevator doors opening. All he can do is follow as Mu Qing steps out onto the roof.

There actually is more furniture up here than a gathering of shitty tables and chairs, much to Feng Xin’s surprise. There are a few loose circles of padded couches and chairs, what looks to be a full bar, and planters galore. The building they’re on isn’t quite as tall as some of the ones surrounding it, and so, as an attempt for some element of privacy, there's a few ivy-covered trellises in some of the corners of the space, fairy lights strung above them to provide more lighting. 

There’s already a decent crowd up there, and it doesn’t take longer than a few moments for someone to start heading over to them.

“I’m so glad you two could make it!” Feng Xin recognizes their new landlord. “Come, follow me and I’ll introduce you to a few of your neighbors.” They do, and Feng Xin truly tries his best to remember their names as they introduce themselves. 

However, Mu Qing takes up the small talk in stride, despite his many previous complaints to Feng Xin about how much he hates it. 

“How long have you two been together?” One of their neighbors asks them. Sha Hualing, he thinks her name is. She’s a very small woman, probably a whole couple of feet shorter than him and Mu Qing, but her personality certainly makes up for it. Already, he’s reminded of Shi Qingxuan, though Sha Hualing seems slightly meaner than their friend. 

“About what, five months now?” Mu Qing says, turning his head towards Feng Xin. He has a teasing look in his eyes, almost like he knows Feng Xin wasn’t paying full attention.

Feng Xin refuses to be made a fool of. “Has it only been five months? It seems like forever.” He turns a sickly sweet smile on Mu Qing, squeezing his hand slightly. 

Sha Hualing grins from where she’s clinging to her partner’s arm. “Is this your first time moving in together?” At their nods, her smile turns sharper. “Well, you’ve certainly picked the right place! The walls here are pretty thick, so you have nothing to worry about.” 

Heat floods Feng Xin’s face immediately, though Mu Qing just laughs, seemingly unaffected by the joke. 

“Hualing, stop scaring the neighbors.” The taller woman next to Sha Hualing seems to frown down at her. She’s wearing a lavender-colored face mask, though, so it’s a little harder to tell. 

“Mingyan,” Sha Hualing whines, turning up to look at her. “I’m not scaring them, It’s the truth! Really, they should be advertising the building like that.” 

The two drift around the rooftop, greeting those gathered around. Feng Xin lets Mu Qing take the lead in talking, though it isn’t long before he starts feeling something on the side of his hand. When Feng Xin looks down, he discovers it’s Mu Qing’s thumb, sweeping across the side of Feng Xin’s from where they’re still connected. Mu Qing doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it, or that their hands are still joined. 

Before long, they end up on one of the other couches, seated thigh-to-thigh to not crowd the other couple on the opposite end. Feng Xin has lost the train of the conversation a while ago, far too occupied with the feeling of Mu Qing’s hand on his knee. One of his own arms is resting on the back of the couch behind them, so he resorts to playing with Mu Qing’s hair, curling strands of it around his fingers. 

Mu Qing still seems like he doesn’t notice a thing, so Feng Xin grows bolder, dusting his fingertips on the exposed nape of Mu Qing’s neck, and playing with the baby hairs there. Finally, Mu Qing reacts. Feng Xin is briefly worried he’s going to pull away, but instead, his hand slides slightly further up Feng Xin’s leg, lightly tapping his inner thigh, just above his knee. 

The touch feels electric to Feng Xin, but Mu Qing keeps listening to the conversation around them, paying him no mind. Feng Xin does his best to tune back in, listening as the man on the chair opposite them prattles on, recounting some story of his that involves him sneaking back in somewhere and getting caught. The chair the other man is sitting in is occupied, so he’s perched on the lap of someone in nearly all white, and judging by the easy way he’s being held, they’re partners. 

Despite the presence of the hand on his leg, Feng Xin finds himself being drawn in as the man —Wei Wuxian, he thinks he remembers is his name— dramatically explains how he and his husband, Lan Wangji, first met. Even though Wei Wuxian describes remembering how he thought his now-husband hated him for years after that, there’s an open, unrestrained fondness on Lan Wangji’s face. A look that makes Feng Xin slightly turn his head to look at Mu Qing’s face. 

Mu Qing turns to look back at him, an eyebrow quirking up at him, and, for the first time, Feng Xin wonders if he’s gotten it wrong. Maybe Mu Qing has never truly hated him like he thought he did. Maybe their actions for the past few nights haven’t just been acting on Mu Qing’s part if the willing hand on his leg is any indication. Or any of the other touches from tonight. 

“ What? ” Mu Qing mouths at him, seeing the strange look on Feng Xin’s face. 

Feng Xin just shakes his head, allowing a small smile on his face as he wraps a finger around a lock of Mu Qing’s hair again and slightly tugs it. Feng Xin doesn’t miss how Mu Qing’s eyes widen and he bites his lip, a flush growing on his cheeks. Mu Qing shoots a glare toward him, and warningly tightens his fingers on Feng Xin’s thighs before he turns his attention away.

He’s seconds away from damming the consequences and tugging on Mu Qing’s hair again before he notices the attention of the group shift towards them.

“What about you, how did you two meet?” Wei Wuxian asks them, smiling in their direction. 

“We met in kindergarten.” Mu Qing answers smoothly, not missing a beat. “His friend all but kidnapped me, making me sit with them, and we’ve known each other since.”

“And you’ve only been dating for five months?” Sha Hualing asks from a few feet away, also perched on her partner’s —Liu Mingyan — lap, legs dangling over the armrests of the chair. 

This, Mu Qing doesn’t answer right away, instead, turns to Feng Xin, who surprises them both by saying, “We hated each other. Or, thought we hated each other for many years.” He answers. He can see Wei Wuxian nod solemnly to that. “It was only recently that we realized we didn’t, that we never did.” 

Feng Xin doesn’t miss the hint of surprise on Mu Qing’s face. Mercifully, the conversation shifts away from them, and at Mu Qing’s prolonged silence, he says, “ I never hated you.” 

He can hear Mu Qing’s breath catch and stop altogether as Feng Xin slowly closes the distance between them. Swiftly, he presses a brief kiss against Mu Qing’s soft lips, something he had been wanting to do since their first kiss the night before. 

Mu Qing, frozen in shock, doesn’t get the chance to reply before Feng Xin is pulling away. He opens his mouth to speak, but Feng Xin stops him with a sharp tug on his hair. He knows how thin Mu Qing’s face actually is, and selfishly, doesn’t want to ruin whatever is happening between them just yet.

Mu Qing scowls, but gets the hint, and, after a beat, slides his hand even further up Feng Xin’s thigh, the slight feeling of his nails scraping the denim of Feng Xin’s jeans traveling up and down his leg. 

They spend the next couple of hours like that, trading touches in a way they never have before, leaning into each other on the couch. Eventually, the night starts getting colder, so the group of people around them decides to call it a night. They all make their way over to the elevators, keeping the conversation going. Feng Xin didn’t expect their neighbors to be this friendly, but he was glad that if this arrangement falls apart after this night, he made some friends out of it. As they stand up, Feng Xin watches Wei Wuxian and Sha Hualing tease each other like they’re siblings, while their respective spouses watch fondly. 

His attention is drawn away from the bickering in front of them however when he watches a shiver go through Mu Qing at the brisk wind that snakes in between the skyscrapers around them. Feng Xin is pulling off his coat before he realizes it, and setting it on Mu Qing’s shoulders. 

Mu Qing looks up at him in surprise, and his hands reach up to peel the coat off and give it back, but Feng Xin places his hands atop his, stopping him. 

“I thought you were going to bring a coat.” Feng Xin murmurs in his ear. “But I’ll be nice and let you use mine.” 

Mu Qing scoffs, a hint of red high across his cheeks, but he doesn’t try to keep taking it off. They step into the elevator with the other four people, even though it’s now slightly cramped. Feng Xin just uses that as an excuse to wind his arm around Mu Qing’s waist and pull him flush into him. He doesn’t miss the way Mu Qing immediately stiffens in his grip, and then the slight relaxation that comes a beat later. 

The elevator beeps as it descends, and a few floors down, the doors slide open. Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Sha Hualing, and Liu Mingyan all step out, waving farewell to the two still in the elevator. 

“Good night, have fun!” Sha Hualing calls to them, winking as she links her arm with Liu Mingyan’s. 

He doesn’t have to see Mu Qing’s face to know he’s rolling his eyes at the comment, so Feng Xin smiles back at them as he waves with his free hand. 

With that, the doors slide closed, and the two of them are left alone in the elevator. Feng Xin tightens his hold on Mu Qing’s waist, lowering his head to place a kiss on his neck. Mu Qing shudders against him, hands coming up to grip Feng Xin’s arm around him. But he doesn’t make any move to push away, so Feng Xin takes that as a sign to continue. 

As the elevator descends, Feng Xin reaches up to tug a lock of Mu Qing’s hair once more, this time sharper than before. He’s rewarded with the breath shuddering out of Mu Qing, though it’s still not the reaction he wants.

Feng Xin barely registers the ding of the elevator as they arrive on their floor, he just follows Mu Qing as he’s tugged out and into the hallway. He doesn’t release his hold on Mu Qing’s waist even when the other man is fumbling with the keys to open the door. 

Finally, the door swings open before them, and the two stagger inside, letting it swing shut behind them. They stop in the middle of the living room, still for a moment. Feng Xin lightens his hold on Mu Qing’s waist, and the other man turns around in his arms. 

“Did you mean it?” Mu Qing is whispering into the air between them. “When you said you never hated me?”

Feng Xin regards him with a soft smile. “I did. Even when you ignored me for whatever reason for the past few years.”

Mu Qing reddens, and looks away. Feng Xin doesn’t think he’s ever seen him this nervous before. 

“I was jealous.” He mutters face turned away. 

“What?” Feng Xin stops, unsure if he heard that right. “Why were you-?” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his question because suddenly, Mu Qing is surging forward, and he’s kissing Feng Xin. 

Feng Xin stumbles back slightly with the force of it, letting out a breathless noise as he does so. Mu Qing’s hands come up to hold his face as he deepens the kiss. 

Eventually, they break apart for air, chests heaving as they lean their foreheads against each other. Feng Xin wants to find out why Mu Qing was jealous, but he can save that for another time, right now, he just asks, “Do you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Mu Qing breathes. 

That’s all Feng Xin needs before he’s wrapping his hands around Mu Qing’s thighs and hefting him up. Mu Qing responds by kissing him again, a feeling Feng Xin knows he’ll never get enough of. 

Feng Xin carries Mu Qing through the apartment, turning only so he can shoulder open the door to Mu Qing’s room and set him on the bed. He takes his time, pressing kisses down Mu Qing’s body, making him squirm, before slowly opening him up. Eventually, Mu Qing snaps with impatience, and while Feng Xin would love nothing more than to make him beg for it, he’ll just have to settle for doing that another time. 

Feng Xin presses in slowly, leaving marks on Mu Qing’s neck and shoulders to distract him. Only when he’s fully seated does he pause, moving his head up to press a kiss to Mu Qing’s forehead. “You have been driving me insane all evening.” He says, smiling into his skin. 

Mu Qing huffs a breathless laugh. “You have been driving me insane for years. Now move.” And Feng Xin does. 

Afterward, they lie pressed together on Mu Qing’s bed, sweat drying on their skin. Mu Qing is curled into Feng Xin, fucked-out and content. Distantly, Feng Xin’s preparing for the fallout, for Mu Qing to push him out, say this was a mistake, and leave him to pack his bags. He’s aware of the stiffness in his body as if any sort of movement will alert Mu Qing to his presence.

“Relax.” Mu Qing finally mutters, digging a finger into his side. 

“What did you mean when you said you were jealous?” Feng Xin can’t keep quiet any longer, he wants to know. Wants to know how long he mistook Mu Qing’s jealousy for hatred. 

Instead of answering, Mu Qing just buries his face further into Feng Xin’s chest. Eventually, when Feng Xin is preparing to ask again, Mu Qing says, “Since you started dating Jian Lan.” The words are slightly muffled, so it takes Feng Xin a few moments to understand them. 

“That was years ago! And we didn’t even date that long!” Certainly not long enough to warrant years of Mu Qing ignoring him. But, then again, this is Mu Qing, and that is exactly the sort of thing he would do.

“I didn’t know how else to handle it. It had been the three of us for years, and then suddenly, it wasn’t.” 

“So you’ve been in love with me since high school?” Feng Xin hopes he isn’t going too out on a limb here, but he’s pretty sure he knows the truth, but even more, he knows that he won’t get the answer out of Mu Qing without some pressure.

Mu Qing’s face shoots up, cheeks flaming as he glares at Feng Xin. But he doesn’t deny it, which is all the confirmation he needs. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Mu Qing’s lips, loving the way the other tries to chase his mouth as he pulls away. 

“When you called me about this place, I was so terrified you were still angry at me. That was the first time you’d willingly talked to me in years, and I didn’t want to lose you again. I think I only realized how much I loved you when you left.” Feng Xin tells him quietly, a hand coming up to cradle Mu Qing’s face. 

“Why?” Mu Qing’s voice broke slightly on the word. “I’ve been nothing but horrible to you since we met. Why?”

“You haven’t been horrible to me,” Mu Qing opened his mouth to protest, but Feng Xin kept talking before he could. “Yes, you’ve been such an asshole, but I could still see how much you cared. Even when you didn’t talk to me for two years, I knew if you truly hated me, I would have never seen you again.” 

Mu Qing dropped his head back down into Feng Xin’s chest, trying to hide. Smiling, Feng Xin started carding his fingers through Mu Qing’s unbound, disheveled hair. 

“I’m sorry.” For his credit, Mu Qing didn’t sound like he was choking out the words. 

“I know, I love you.” Feng Xin has never said anything more true in his entire life. He never thought he would get to say those words, much less to the person currently in front of him. 

“I love you too,” Mu Qing says quietly, lifting his head up to capture Feng Xin’s lips in a searing kiss. 

They do eventually fall asleep, in the early hours of the morning, and wake tangled in each other’s arms. 

Mu Qing is the first to wake, and he takes the time to look at the man next to him, his face relaxed with sleep. He never even let himself dream that this was possible, too scared of his own feelings to do anything but shove everyone away. So Mu Qing allows himself to look, and safely memorize every detail on Feng Xin’s face, who has apparently, been in love with him for nearly as long as Mu Qing has loved him.

“What’s that look for?” Feng Xin grumbles out, squinting his eyes open.

“Xie Lian said he’d be by later today, and he’s bringing food to welcome us in.” 

“Please tell me you managed to talk him out of it, I don’t feel like getting food poisoning.” Feng Xin grumbles, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Hmm, nope, but I did tell him I’m fasting for the weekend, but you would be so very grateful to eat anything he brings.” There’s a wicked gleam in Mu Qing’s eyes, a look Feng Xin has seen countless times over the years. However, this time, there’s a pang in Feng Xin’s chest as he recognizes the fondness in that gaze, under the teasing. 

“Asshole,” Feng Xin says, rolling his eyes. And then he’s moving, grabbing Mu Qing’s waist and flipping them over so Feng Xin is lying on top of him. “I’ll get you back for this.” And then he’s kissing Mu Qing, muffling the bright sound of his laughter, a sound Feng Xin has missed so much. He can’t wait to be the one to make Mu Qing laugh like that again and again and again.