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Mu Qing is probably expecting a heat in the next couple of days, which is why he’s so sensitive. He’s usually unshakeable, but today has him upset. Xie Lian tells him that omegas hate to be alone when a heat is near, although Xie Lian is an alpha and has no real experience with omegas. Not that he isn’t the same.
Mu Qing doesn’t count.
Feng Xin’s stomach curdles at the smell of an omega in acute distress, and the miserable hiccupping sobs and sniffles Mu Qing is trying to hide in his sleeve. Even when he’s pissed Mu Qing off before, pushed him to the point of storming off, he’s never seen Mu Qing cry before. Never noticed a change in his fresh daisies and cherry blossoms scent, beyond the occasional sour note of irritation when one of them makes him mad.
He almost assumed Mu Qing had no feelings beyond annoyance.
“Feng Xin,” Xie Lian calls, beckoning to him. “You too - come here too...”
Feng Xin hesitates. He’s pretty sure that him getting close will only cause Mu Qing more distress (or at least irritation). His presence has never been a calming influence for the other man; in fact, it’s the total opposite. Mu Qing bristles and is on edge, it seems, whenever Feng Xin is near - which is most of the time.
He never really thought it bothered him, but it bothers him now, seeing how sweetly Mu Qing crumples and capitulates to their Crown Prince’s gentle, authoritative voice, curling up in his lap like all he wants in the world is to be petted by Xie Lian and attended to with care and gentleness.
“It’s alright,” Xie Lian says gently, stroking down Mu Qing’s arms. Mu Qing is laying half in Xie Lian’s lap, his face buried against the Crown Prince’s chest. Xie Lian’s scent has never really meant much to Feng Xin, with the both of them being alphas, but it’s clearly having a deeply calming effect on Mu Qing, as he inhales deeply, almost intoxicated.
Feng Xin feels a stab of jealousy, but he isn’t sure why. He knows competing alphas can be possessive over an omega, but he and Xie Lian have never competed. He’s Xie Lian’s loyal sworn sword, his brother. And Mu Qing? Mu Qing would beat them both if they even thought about courting him.
But Xie Lian is stroking Mu Qing’s long, glossy black hair, murmuring soothing words and sweet affirmations. “Sweet omega, pretty omega…” he croons softly, and Mu Qing makes soft, pleased sounds, like a kitten. Feng Xin feels like he’s in some bizarre dream.
“Come,” Xie Lian says again, holding out his hand. It brooks no room for argument. Feng Xin walks forward, and Xie Lian places his hand on Mu Qing’s cheek, while he strokes the man’s back “He likes soft, gentle words, Feng Xin. And loving touches. Tell him how good he’s being.”
Feng Xin stares at the honey-wheat colour of his tanned skin against the soft ivory of Mu Qing’s. He’s entranced by the way Mu Qing turns to press his cheek further into Feng Xin’s hand, while clutching at Xie Lian’s broad shoulders. Hungry for their love and attention. Part of him is ashamed he never realised before that Mu Qing likes this kind of thing.
He’s even more ashamed that Xie Lian knows exactly what to do - the perfect alpha, chivalrous and kind, even though he doesn’t go any further with his comfort than chaste touches and petting. Though Xie Lian’s cultivation path forbids him from even kissing, the royal family has been putting together an Imperial Harem for him upon his ascension to the throne, filled with beautiful omegas from the highest echelons of society. So Feng Xin supposes their Guoshi (a beta) must have told him one or two things about them.
“You’re good,” Feng Xin stumbles over his words, awkwardly, stroking one calloused thumb across Mu Qing’s high cheekbones. “So - so pretty. And you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
“That’s right,” Xie Lian encourages him gently. “We’re lucky to know such a sweet, strong omega.”
Mu Qing stares up at Feng Xin with dark, liquid eyes. Feng Xin has a guilty pang in his chest.
“I mean it,” he assures Mu Qing, scooting in closer to join Xie Lian in holding him.
When Mu Qing is back to himself, he’ll probably punch Feng Xin in the face for daring to speak to him or touch him like that. But it’s worth it. Feng Xin finds himself even looking forward to it; anything is better than the strange, shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach when he sees Mu Qing so vulnerable.
Slowly, Mu Qing’s scent changes from sharp notes signalling upset and distress to his usual fresh, floral scent. Feng Xin has never felt more relieved. He and Xie Lian stay with him like this, patting him and talking to him in slow, gentle voices. Feng Xin could stay like this forever.
Secretly, even though he knows it’s impossible, he hopes they will.