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If anyone asked Feng Xin how he found himself in this current predicament, he wouldn’t be able to give them a reasonable answer. A bit ridiculous considering this was all his idea.
Sitting across from him on his mattress was the silverette bane of his existence. His porcelain skin is almost reflective of light. The moonlight catches him in a silver flame, setting his hair ablaze in the dark.
It pains him to admit that Mu Qing is... attractive. He’s just a lowly commoner but sometimes- sometimes Feng Xin’s gaze would linger a little too long. Good thing his personality was ugly and assumptious because an accidental gaze-linger like that would usually result in the high strung prick barking at him for mocking him or something close to the matter.
“Well?” Mu Qing glares at him. “Are we doing this or not?”
Feng Xin thinks about how this started; it was hours ago, near the stables. Xie Lian was with them at the time as the three of them had just arrived back from a leisure ride into the outer woods of the capital city. Xie Lian had completed his lessons early and gathered the both of them with a breathtaking smile, suggesting they go for a ride. Neither could refuse, not that they wanted to.
See, it had long been established that the two of them had taken quite a liking to his highness. More than a liking actually. What they both felt for his highness was highly inappropriate but neither felt particularly guilty. After all, who wouldn’t fall for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince when in such constant close proximity? He was as gentle as he was skilled, as intelligent as he was beautiful.
He was also the most perceptively oblivious person they had ever met, seeing as he hadn’t been able to tell that his closest confidants were absolutely enamored with him.
But Xie Lian never had any interest in things like romance and “silly matters like that”. Even as a young teen, where his hormones should be raging, all he cared about was fighting and cultivation. Feng Xin imagined it would be centuries before the Crown Prince found someone worthy of putting down his sword for.
He snorted to himself; he’d probably just find someone just as crazy about the martial arts. Someone like himself, perhaps? His heart fluttered just imagining the two of them, side by side, fighting and cultivating together forever.
His fantasies were interrupted by Mu Qing’s horse trotting over to the pen next to Feng Xin’s own steed. The horse’s rider was leading him by rope into the stall, closing the door before quickly making loose of his horse’s reins and slipping the head piece off. He patted the muzzle affectionately, eyes crinkling into an almost smile as the animal leaned into his touch. Mu Qing quickly stiffened, as if aware of Feng Xin’s gaze and the latter quickly turned his head away before the silver haired boy could yell at him.
“What a ride!” Xie Lian was still on his horse and Feng Xin dropped what he was doing to quickly help him down. Mu Qing seemed to have the same idea as they brushed hands reaching for the saddle. A withering glare is exchanged but their efforts are fruitless in the end as Xie Lian hopped off, an exemplar of grace and poise. Feng Xin’s mouth felt dry and he forced himself to go back to his horse.
“Would you like me to untack Xia He?” Feng Xin heard Mu Qing ask.
“Can I help?”
“No need, your highness.”
Feng Xin could just hear him pout. “What if we are riding and we get seperated? I’ve lost my way back home and have to untack my horse myself? Should a prince not know how? Or a soldier?”
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
Xie Lian giggled. “Just let me watch.”
Mu Qing doesn’t answer but Feng Xin supposed he made some silent agreement because the two of them walk off.
Feng Xin dejectedly fed his horse, Yun, some oats as he waited for the two to finish up their dumb lesson. Mu Qing wasn’t a fucking stable boy and untacking wasn’t even that difficult.
“Who needs to teach whom?” He muttered.
“Oi, Feng-Xiong!”
He looked up from his anger feeding session to Song Qing, a fellow military family son who was training to be a cultivator.
“Song-Xiong,” he greeted with a forced smile, he was trying to seem like he wasn’t thinking about whatever the hell Mu Qing and Xie Lian were doing and why it seemed to take ages.
“You’ll never believe what just happened.”
“???”
“I lost my first kiss to that cultivation scholar’s daughter!”
Feng Xin wrinkled his nose in disgust at the word ‘daughter’. He had yet to understand the maniacal obsession all the boys his age had with women. Not that Feng Xin particularly felt like he was only interested in boys, he just thought women, while beautiful, were too... untouchable. They made him uncomfortable. And that was putting it very lightly.
“So?”
Song Qing’s face fell. “ So ?! Feng-Xiong, when will you care about anything other than his highness? You’re 16! That’s a healthy age to start kissing.”
“I don’t have anyone I want to kiss,” Feng Xin lied, slipping out of the stable stall and leaning against the post to be able to better speak with him.
Song Qing let out a laugh. “Neither do I? But it’s always a good idea to get practice before the person you actually do want to kiss. Because then it’s not as scary anymore and you know what to do.”
Feng Xin snorted. “Does the scholar’s daughter know this?”
Song Qing grinned. “Nope! But she doesn’t have to find out until I’ve mastered the whole kissing thing.”
“You’re a fucking pig.”
Song Qing started to squeal and oink and Feng Xin can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous boy’s acts.
Why couldn’t his highness have chosen Song Qing instead of the lump of sass whose eyes would probably drop to the floor if he rolled them one more time? Feng Xin would enjoy his job a lot more.
Think of the devil , he supposed when he caught a glimpse of silver hair stalking towards him.
“His highness is heading back to the pavilion and insisted I come collect you so we may walk back together,” Mu Qing gritted out, an obviously fake smile sewn on to his face by invisible thread.
Feng Xin exchanged a look with Song Qing who got the message and waved him off before striding back down from whence he came. Probably off to go kiss random officials’ daughters again.
“His highness requested me, huh?” A smirk grew on his face to which Mu Qing rolled his eyes- of course he did- and spun on his heel, marching back to where Xie Lian was waiting.
They walked in silence, which was a norm for them; despite what others thought, they were capable of being civil. It’s just when they had to speak to each other because his highness liked to talk to them, it was difficult to not get annoyed at what the other was spouting on about. Frankly, sometimes just the very presence of Mu Qing put Feng Xin off. He was a lowly commoner, trying to act like he could somehow break free from the silent caste system that bound them all. Feng Xin didn’t like that. He didn’t like the idea of challenging things that kept him in his place. Especially because he knew how Mu Qing’s stupid eyes would linger on Xie Lian for far too long.
You only notice because sometimes your eyes linger on him too , a very unhelpful inner voice reminded him to which 50 other inner voices in his head began to rage at such an impudent suggestion.
“Ah, I was wondering if perhaps you had started fighting elsewhere and I was going to have to pry you apart again.” Xie Lian glanced between the two of them, a small smile gracing his face. He looped an arm around both of their arms, creating a chain link before tugging them close to him.
“Your highness!” They cried, faces reddening from the sudden touch. But Xie Lian misunderstands because of course he does.
“Oh look at you! Red as blushing maidens the both of you. Don’t be embarrassed, we’ll disentangle a few steps before the pavilion. Come on then, onward!” Xie Lian laughed to himself as he dragged them along arm in arm, completely unaware to how incredibly affected the two idiots on either arm were by such a predicament.
The rest of the day’s events were uneventful until Xie Lian excused himself to an early rest since the Guoshis had a special lesson before dawn. This left Feng Xin and Mu Qing to awkwardly dwindle around.
Mu Qing was about to leave when Feng Xin made his second dumb suggestion of the day.
“Do you want to, uh, eat together?”
They hadn’t really bickered properly all day, mainly staying out of each other’s way so Feng Xin didn’t find him particularly despicable today. Besides, he had hours before he needed to sleep and he’s well aware he’s making excuses at this point.
“You want to eat? With me?” Mu Qing gave a disdainful look, as if that’s the very last thing he’d want to be doing.
“Never fucking mind then. Just thought I’d extend the courtesy! Something you’ve clearly never learned about!” Feng Xin felt his chest heat up. Damn this snarky asshole. Just say no like a fucking normal person!
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
“YOU HEARD ME!”
Ah, and so it began. One of their many, many arguments. If only Feng Xin had known to what extent their rivalry would last. Beyond this life and the next, constantly at odds, anger bound by miscommunication and regrets left unforgotten. Would he still have bickered the way he did? Treated Mu Qing the way he did? There’s no point in contemplating centuries later on what ifs. There was only what happened and what would.
“I COULDN’T UNDERSTAND YOU OVER YOUR GRATING VOICE! LIKE A BLADE SCRAPING AGAINST MARBLE!”
“SAY THAT TO MY FUCKING FACE, COWARD!”
“I JUST DID???”
“FUCK YOU!”
“AS IF!”
Feng Xin drew his blade. “C’mon then, let's settle this. Spar me! If I win you have to apologize for rudely mocking my dinner invitation!”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “And why would I do that? What’s in it for me?”
Feng Xin blinked before hardening his gaze. “I’ll… I’ll excuse myself ONE TIME anytime you want to be alone with his highness.”
Feng Xin watched in sick pleasure as Mu Qing turned a strange shade of red, shoulders shaking. He could practically see steam erupting from his ears. “And w-why would I want that?”
He cocked his head in confusion. “Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Don’t you fancy him?”
Feng Xin barely had time to register anything before he was being tackled by the silver haired brute, sword knocked out of his hand. He landed on his back and quickly wriggled out of the grip before wrapping his thighs around the other’s neck, flipping them over. Mu Qing knew too well how to get out of his lock, he interlocked his right arm on Feng Xin’s leg and twisted his ankle, causing him to loosen his hold, letting Mu Qing shove him off completely.
Feng Xin dived for his sword, before scrambling to his feet with the grace of a crippled bear. Mu Qing stood tall, brandishing his sword towards Feng Xin, eyes narrowed.
“Rules?”
“The usual. No slashing. Swats are okay. No drawing blood intentionally. Sound fair?”
He rolled his eyes and Feng Xin felt his eye twitch. “Three out of five?”
Feng Xin considered it. He and Mu Qing were young but they were skilled fighters. Who knew how long this could go on?
“Nah, sudden death. Unless, you think you’ll lose the first round?”
“Tch.” Mu Qing looked annoyed (although, when didn’t he?). “Fine.”
Feng Xin swung first and Mu Qing easily parried before countering, which was met with a clever block and a kick that the silverette dodged.
Mu Qing darted forward, feigning an under attack but changed his direction last minute, almost startling Feng Xin. Luckily, he ducked away, using the momentum to swing at an overextended Mu Qing. He narrowly blocked and the blades clanged. Almost like a conversation, a balanced rhythm of the two swords locked in a deadly dance. Feng Xin hated how the blades could converse better than their wielders.
“Getting tired?” Mu Qing taunted.
“Only of your face.” Feng Xin smirked, earning a scowl from the other.
Mu Qing struck first and Feng Xin caught it, quickly rotating his blade against the other’s, forcing Mu Qing’s wrist to drop his sword. Feng Xin placed the tip of the sword gently against the other’s throat, feeling victorious but he should have known better. Mu Qing was clever and cunning because he ducked his head, rolling on the ground before drawing a secondary blade from his boot. Unsheathing the dagger, he thrust toward Feng Xin who nearly tripped from the sudden change in momentum.
“Hey! That’s cheating! I won!”
CLANG. SWISH. CLANG. CLANG.
“You never said we couldn’t use other weapons!”
CLINK. CLANG. SWISH. CLANK.
“Its the principle of the fucking thing, asshole!”
“CAN YOU TWO IDIOTS FUCKING KEEP IT DOWN?!?!?”
They look up, blades forgotten, to see Zhu An, a fellow cultivator trainee but he was neither fond of Feng Xin or Mu Qing. Deeming them not worthy of studying near Xie Lian.
“THE REST OF US CIVILIZED PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO ENJOY THE REST OF OUR EVENING BUT THE ENTIRE ROYAL HOLY PAVILION CAN HEAR YOU TWO GOING AT IT!!!!”
Mu Qing muttered under his breath. “If he’s civilized then I’ve got to be the emperor.”
Feng Xin couldn’t help but let out a fucking snort at that, completely missing the surprised look flash on Mu Qing’s face.
“What are you giggling about? You’re mentally inept aren’t you?”
“You’d know all about mentally inept wouldn’t you, Zhu-shixiong?” Feng Xin barked back.
Zhu An's plain features twisted up in anger, face turning an unflattering shade of gray. “Do you need to be taught some sort of fucking lesson-“
Feng Xin was about challenge him to join their little quarrel when the familiar steps of the Guoshi creeped down the hall.
"Ah shit-" Feng Xin realized they were about to be punished when Mu Qing grabbed Feng Xin’s arm before tugging him down the halls. Feng Xin let himself be dragged as Zhu An cursed to himself before making run for it himself, tripping on his own robes.
Feng Xin huffed out a laugh before gaining speed on Mu Qing, tugging him down a familiar corridor and taking a right down some stairs.
“Follow me!”
They scurry along the halls and finally duck into Feng Xin’s private chambers, where he bolts the door shut.
He let out a breathless laugh, glee trickling out of his voice. “Oh gods, did you see his fucking face?”
Mu Qing glared at him. “What were you thinking? Insulting him?”
Feng Xin shrugged. “He deserved it, the fucking prat.”
“He could've got us in so much trouble!”
Feng Xin waved him off. “Nah, the Guoshi would've scolded him too. That's why he ran. Who knew what he was up to?”
“He's not going to forget though. And its not you who's going to suffer.” He mumbled the last part.
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“Nothing,” Mu Qing muttered before scanning his surroundings. “Whose room is this?”
“Mine.”
Mu Qing’s entire body tensed up, muscles locking in place and face sporting an uncomfortable expression.
“Oh.”
Feng Xin moved to sit on the bed while Mu Qing stayed standing very still as if he found himself in the den of a bear and not Feng Xin’s bedroom.
“You can sit down, you know?”
He ignored him. “Your room is… big.”
Feng Xin glanced around. He had never really thought about it. He supposed his chambers were a little bigger than most but Mu Qing was acting as though it was grand.
“I guess? The Queen is soft on me and she had some special room prepared for me and His Highness. It’s no big deal really.”
Mu Qing’s face flashed with something before his typical haughtiness creeped back into his features.
“What are your chambers like?” Feng Xin asked, trying to make him feel more comfortable because Mu Qing was still standing by the door like a cornered animal.
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because Mu Qing scowled and grunted out something incomprehensible.
Alright then, sue him for trying.
“You can sit down.” He repeated.
Mu Qing looked around before scoffing. “Where?”
Feng Xin scooted over from where he sat on his bed. Mu Qing shifted his weight on his feet as if contemplating the offer and before Feng Xin could bark at him for being ridiculous, he finally settled down, a good space away from Feng Xin.
“How long do you think he’ll be stalking around?” Mu Qing asked, still looking as stiff as a fresh corpse.
Feng Xin shrugged. “I’d give it an hour? Guoshi goes to bed pretty early. For sound mind or whatever.”
Mu Qing nodded and the two were enshrouded by an empty silence. It’s neither awkward nor comfortable. It’s just simply there.
Feng Xin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, mind still reeling with the events of today.
You’re 16! That’s a healthy age to start kissing.
Feng Xin's eyes fluttered open and locked onto the person sitting in front of him, who also seemed to be lost in thought.
Had Mu Qing ever kissed someone?
“Have you ever kissed someone?”
The silver haired boy was startled out of his thoughts, eyes bulging at Feng Xin as if he couldn’t believe what he just said.
“What?!?”
Feng Xin felt his cheeks redden. “Have you ever, uh, kissed anyone?”
“What the fuck?! Are you trying to mock me?!”
“No, I’m just genuinely- Song Qing mentioned it today, ah, it’s nothing. Never mind.”
Mu Qing was quiet and Feng Xin thought that was the end of that but then he heard a hushed voice:
“N-no. I haven’t.”
“Really?” Feng Xin didn’t mean to sound so incredulous.
Mu Qing’s fair skin turned pink. “Yes, really! It’s not that big of a deal, you know? I just haven’t found someone that I’d want to do it with anyway!”
“No, no, no it’s just-“ Feng Xin bit his tongue. What was he supposed to say? That he thought Mu Qing was too pretty to not have been kissed yet? How the hell could he say that?
“It’s just I haven’t either.”
It was Mu Qing’s turn to look surprised. “Wait. Really? You?”
Feng Xin shrugged. “I just didn’t have anyone I wanted to kiss. Or well, anyone I wanted to kiss and could kiss for that matter.”
Mu Qing fell silent. “I heard it’s quite… nice.”
Feng Xin hummed in agreement.
It’s always a good idea to get practice before the person you actually do want to kiss.
Song Qing’s words rang around in his head like a fucking mantra. Over and over, driving him insane.
His eyes flitted over to Mu Qing who bit at his lip, fingers digging into the edge of his robes. Feng Xin can’t help but watch, mesmerized by the way he tugged his bottom lip into his mouth, teeth snagging at the soft skin before pink tongue swiping over the abused area, making the already plush, pink lips fuller and redder.
Feng Xin’s throat felt dry.
“Hey.”
Mu Qing didn’t acknowledge him but Feng Xin knew he was listening.
“Do you want to-“ The words die on his tongue. He felt his chest getting warm and tight. It felt like all the air in the room was sucked out of his lungs.
Mu Qing glanced over. “Do I want to what?”
Feng Xin was silent and Mu Qing went back to ignoring him.
“Do you- Do you want to, perhaps, um-“
Mu Qing prickled at the silence that followed after but he continued to say nothing.
There was more silence, the kind that felt loud. The kind that made you aware of how thunderous your own heartbeat was. How the blood throbbed against your ears, sounding like the pounding of war drums.
Feng Xin took a deep breath and tried again. “Would you be interested in, uh- well, hmm-“
“JUST SPIT OUT ALREADY!”
“DO YOU WANT TO KISS?” Feng Xin blurted, eyes huge and face hot.
Mu Qing coughed, an expression mirroring Feng Xin’s donning his face. It’s quiet… and then:
“IS THIS SOME SORT OF SICK JOKE?!?”
Feng Xin was an idiot.
“I MEAN, WELL, LIKE, WE BOTH ARE INEXPERIENCED AND WELL, WE DON’T HAVE SOMEONE TO KISS YET. BUT WHEN WE DO! WE SHOULD- I DUNNO? BE GOOD FOR THEM? MAKE IT MORE ENJOYABLE FOR THEM!?”
The deafening silence is back and they’re both staring at each other, eyes wide, faces red and heart’s pounding.
“That is… the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”
Feng Xin opened his mouth to- fuck he doesn’t even know. Apologize? Yell? Cry? All three? But Mu Qing wasn’t done.
“But, you do have a point. When am I ever going to train at kissing?”
Feng Xin perked at that. “Exactly! What if the person we’re with is just as inexperienced as us? We should- we should try to make it good for them!”
They exchanged glances, a single person coming to both of their minds. A pipe-dream for both of them. Training to kiss the one they fight for, the one their hearts beat for.
It was pathetic really. But Feng Xin didn’t care. Not right now.
He scooted closer to the other, the silverette was within touching distance now. Evening had melted into night without them noticing and Mu Qing shone in the moonlight that trickled through Feng Xin’s windows. Silver hair catching the rays of light, upstaging the moon itself. His unrealistically pale skin practically glowed in the dark and Feng Xin felt like a moth drawn to the flame.
“Well?” Mu Qing glares at him. “Are we doing this or not?”
Feng Xin’s lips go dry. Amazing what the last few hours could lead to. Just a mere moment ago the tip of his sword was pointed at his throat and now Feng Xin feels himself tremble as he inches closer. He thanks whatever deity watched over him that he had the mind to not light the candles when they had first tumbled into his room. He doesn’t think he could handle any more than this.
They’re a foot apart. Inches. Centimeters. Their breaths were mixing together, eyes flickering rapidly from each other’s eyes to lips.
His heart shakes in his chest, his breath quickens and his tongue darts forward, licking his lips nervously.
“Should I just-“
“Yes .” Mu Qing sounds as breathless as Feng Xin feels. He supposes that's a good thing. Nice to know he isn’t the only one feeling like the breath had been punched out of his chest.
Feng Xin leans forward, every nerve ending feeling raw and exposed. The air is charged with… something but it makes him feel dizzy.
“Ok, I’ll just do it now ,” he whispers, hating the way his voice shakes.
“Mmm,” Mu Qing hums.
Feng Xin’s lips are right in front of his when the nerves get to him again. “Are you sure-“
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Mu Qing curses and he closes the distance.
Feng Xin feels something cool and soft against his lips.
Oh.
They’re kissing.
They’re kissing .
Feng Xin is kissing Mu Qing.
Mu Qing is kissing Feng Xin.
Just how the fuck did this happen again???
Feng Xin’s brain feels like it's imploding. Never in the years he had known the silver haired boy did he ever think he’d be here, lip to lip with the boy who practically challenged his existence.
Yet, here they are. Kissing. And...
And not moving???
They’re just sitting there, lips pressed against each other, completely still.
Is this it? It feels… nice but, wrong. Something is missing.
He pulls away.
Mu Qing’s eyes flutter open and Feng Xin can’t recall if he even closed his. They lock gazes and Feng Xin is reminded for the nth time that Mu Qing is unfairly beautiful.
“That was pleasant?” Mu Qing offers.
His mind is reeling. He doesn’t know what to think.
So he decides not to.
“Again.” It’s the only warning before Feng Xin swoops back in, swallowing the soft gasp Mu Qing lets out, lips locking again but this time Feng Xin tries to do something. Anything .
He tilts his head like he’s seen couples do when they think no one is looking. He tries pressing into it, his trembling hands crawling up the other’s arms before resting at his shoulders. There’s something still missing! What is missing?
He tilts his head again, which parts their lips briefly and Feng Xin’s top lip catches onto Mu Qing’s bottom lip and he lightly sucks on it. Mu Qing breaks the kiss with a gasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He is never gonna get used to Mu Qing swearing at him like that, softly and out of breath.
“I have no idea,” he gasps out because it's true.
“Well, do it again.”
And you didn’t have to tell him twice because he dives back in, hands resting on either side of the silverette’s face, kissing him senseless. He melts into Feng Xin’s touch, wrapping his arms around his waist.
It seems Mu Qing has figured out the general mechanics of what Feng Xin’s trying to do and they’re at it, lips sucking, tugging, pulling. They gasp for breath, sighs and hums exchanging every time their lips part before crashing back into each other again. Hands roam free for both of them since neither knew where to put them, Feng Xin kept alternating between face, neck and shoulders while Mu Qing vacillates between chest and waist.
However, their bodies are craning to meet each other, torsos facing away from where their legs dangle off the bed, utterly enraptured in each other. Feng Xin breaks away from Mu Qing who lets out an unsatisfied sigh as he kicks off his shoes. The silverette follows his example, moving their weights completely onto the bed and they don’t even hesitate before falling into each other. Limbs embracing each other as they kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss.
Feng Xin’s jaw feels sore and his head feels a little lightheaded from the repeated lack of air but he can’t get enough. He’s like the tides and Mu Qing is the moon, pushing and pulling him back and forth, utterly at his mercy. He thrusts his hands into his hair, mussing up the uptight ponytail but he can’t be bothered to give a damn. His kisses feel like a breath of fresh air and Feng Xin is drowning in him, absolutely overwhelmed by Mu Qing. Mu Qing. Mu Qing. Mu Qing .
He tries- oh he tries so hard- to imagine his highness as the one letting out the cute sighs into his mouth but it’s futile. Even with his eyes scrunched shut, his body and mind are acutely aware exactly who he’s been nibbling on for the last 20 minutes. Worst part is… he likes it. He likes that it's him. He’s trying to stop the smile that threatens to spread across his face because as happy as he is now, a smile would break the kiss and breaking the kiss would stop all of this. And the last thing Feng Xin wants to do is stop kissing Mu Qing.
Mu Qing .
Mu Qing, the infuriating boy that drove him insane everyday. Mu Qing, the boy he exchanges glares with whenever they think his highness is looking away. Mu Qing, the boy he regularly kicks the crap out of and Mu Qing, the boy who regularly kicks the crap out of him. That very same boy was in his embrace, kissing the life out of him and then back into him. And just the thought of it, doused him in oil and the boy in his arms lit him aflame. A moth drawn to the flame indeed.
But he doesn’t seem to have the same sentiments.
“-Lian,” he moans.
Feng Xin freezes, arms locking in place. Where he was once fluid and warm, becomes tense and cold. He stops and Mu Qing pulls away, dazed and confused.
“Hmm?” He hums. “What’s wrong?”
Me, you, us. It’s all wrong. This isn’t right. We can’t do this, not if you’ll destroy me with just his name.
But he doesn’t say that, does he? Because words never worked between them. Only actions. Only fists. Only glares. Only kisses.
“You need to go.”
Mu Qing’s soft and relaxed features are startled into sharp and strict ones. He breaks out of his stupor, scrambling out of the bed.
“W-what?“
“You need to go. Now.”
“I d-don’t understa-“
“GO!”
Mu Qing looks as though he’s been slapped, before steeling his gaze. The moonlight begins to fade and the light must be playing tricks on him because it almost looks as though his eyes are wet.
“ Fine ,” he chokes out and with that he storms out of the room, taking all the light with him. The moon hides behind a cloud, as the door shuts with a resolute SLAM!
And then it's Feng Xin in a dark and empty room. He chuckles humorlessly, not really finding anything funny. The son of a bitch was right. The room was big. Too big.
He flops onto the bed, lips still tingling from the events of the past hour. He tentatively reaches out a finger to press against them, trying to mimic the lovely weight from before. His tongue darts out. Fuck, he can still taste him. And what’s worse is that the sheets still feel warm from where they sat.
He falls asleep like that. A finger on his lips, body curled around the trace of warmth in the mattress, a desperate attempt of holding onto the memory of whatever the fuck that was.
He blinks awake to the sunlight flooding through the windows. He follows the harsh rays of light to a pair of boots strewn on the floor next to his. His heart pangs as he remembers the events of yesternight. The sunlight dances across the boots as if taunting him with the reminder of what he held but never really had.
The sun’s too bright , Feng Xin ruminates.
He can’t help but miss the moon .