Work Text:
When Feng Xin woke up in Mu Qing’s bed alone, he may have freaked out a little more than he intended.
Months ago, Feng Xin would have simply rolled back over and went to sleep or, depending on how the night before went, would have dragged himself out of Mu Qing’s bed in the middle of the night, making the walk of shame back to his own temple. It was common then - their disputes and Mu Qing’s knee-jerk reaction to destroy any relationship he got into before it grew the thorns to hurt him meant Feng Xin woke up alone more often than not.
But for a while, things feltg good . They were talking. Feng Xin got better at knowing if and how Mu Qing wanted to be touched, asking when he couldn’t tell. Mu Qing got better at actually being honest. Feng Xin began to let go of all his guilt, realizing that maybe asking for what he needed was better than shoving it all down for atonement’s sake. The first night Feng Xin asked to be held, allowed himself to be, Mu Qing didn’t want to let him go.
They’d begun allowing themselves the more simple pleasures of being in love - holding hands around Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, kisses on cheeks for no reason at all.
Even the night before, Feng Xin fell asleep with Mu Qing wrapped around him, his lips brushing against the back of his neck as he sleepily sang into Feng Xin’s skin. His voice soft and smooth like the most expensive heavenly nectar. Feng Xin had laced his fingers with Mu Qing’s hand that was resting on his stomach, and he felt safe, happy, confident in his space.
Then he woke up, cold from Mu Qing’s absence, and panicked. The only thing that really kept him from going completely off the rails as he walked in his light robes through Mu Qing’s palace was that everything seemed to be in order. Junior officials stood guard where they should have been standing, it was quiet, nothing was going on in the array. If nothing else, at least Mu Qing was probably safe.
Safe, just away from Feng Xin.
Feng Xin had one more space to look, following a small hint of smoke he’d picked up coming from Mu Qing’s courtyard. Then, he told himself, he would give up. He already scoured the entire inside of his palace anyways; there weren’t many other places to look. Maybe Mu Qing didn’t want to be found. Maybe he was doing a bad thing looking for him.
Feng Xin’s palms were slick with sweat as he pushed open the door to the courtyard. A small, yellow and orange fire lit up the silhouette of Mu Qing sitting on a bench, watching the flames. Feng Xin had to stop himself from running full-force into the other man, screaming about how he shouldn’t go wandering off without leaving notes anymore.
Instead, he slowly approached. If the leaves crunching under Feng Xin’s feet gave him away, Mu Qing didn’t care enough to investigate, not even looking at Feng Xin as he sat down beside him. He sat down just close enough to not be touching.
Feng Xin stared ahead at the flickering flames, waiting. The fire gave off some warmth, but the night breeze still made Feng Xin’s wrap his arms around himself, tucking his hands into his sleeves.
Mu Qing shivered occasionally, but seemed to not even realize it.
The fire had died down about halfway before Mu Qing finally spoke, his voice tight. When he looked at Feng Xin, his eyes were rimmed red.
“Why are you still here?”
Feng Xin wanted to reach out and tuck Mu Qing’s hair behind his ear, pull him close and keep him warm, but something told him Mu Qing would run. Instead, he reached out and hooked his pinky around his, something they’d done long before when Mu Qing couldn’t even hold hands without shaking.
“Where else would I be?”
“Literally anywhere else? Asleep?”
Mu Qing looked away, but tightened his grip around Feng Xin’s pinky. Relief flooded Feng Xin as he realized Mu Qing still wanted him. He hadn’t left Feng Xin in bed because he wanted to.
“I woke up and you were gone,” Feng Xin said, rearranging their hands so all their fingers were laced together, palms pressed each other. Mu Qing’s hands were freezing. “What’s going on?”
Mu Qing scooted closer to Feng Xin on the bench, as if hoping to transfer his thoughts to Feng Xin through touch alone. It was quiet again for a breath before he spoke.
“I’m really happy, Feng Xin.” The way tears started sliding down his cheeks made that difficult to believe, but Feng Xin also knew Mu Qing’s emotions were hard to get a handle on sometimes, for both himself and Mu Qing. “I don’t w-want you to leave me. I don’t want to be by myself anymore.”
The words melted out of him and he leaned against Feng Xin, resting his head on the strong, broad shoulder of the love of all his lives. He dropped his voice so low before he spoke next the crackling fire almost drowned him out.
“I woke up, and when I looked at you I felt like I was still dreaming... Most of the time, all of this, all of
us,
still feels too good to be true.”
“Honestly?” Feng Xin said, resting his head on top of Mu Qing’s, taking in the spot of warmth, the closeness, his smell. “A lot of the time I feel the same way. Why do you think I freaked out and came looking for you?”
Mu Qing tensed and let go of Feng Xin’s hand, moving forward to slip out from under Feng Xin and off his shoulder. Like this, Feng Xin couldn’t help but be reminded of just how beautiful Mu Qing was. He was looking at Feng Xin with wide eyes, his cheeks still glistening with tears, his dark hair completely loose and spilling over his shoulders, down his back. The fire cast an ethereal glow around Mu Qing that had nothing to do with him being a god and everything to do with him simply being Mu Qing.
“I didn’t mean to make you worry, I just.. I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m out here, I guess.”
Feng Xin gently cupped Mu Qing’s face with both his hands and looked him dead in the eyes.
“I love you, Mu Qing. And I promise you, I never plan on stopping, okay?”
Feng Xin watched as Mu Qing’s eyes filled with tears again, threatening to spill over with the slightest of touch. Mu Qing opened his mouth to speak several times, not a sound coming out except for a harsh intake of breath, before he settled on a simple nod instead.
Feng Xin moved one hand to the back of Mu Qing’s neck and the other to his waist, a spot he knew was high enough to almost always be safe.
“Can I kiss you?”
Instead of answering, Mu Qing closed the gap between them and kissed Feng Xin himself.
Mu Qing kissed surprisingly soft, almost unsure at times. Every single time, it still sent lightning bolts throughout Feng Xin’s veins. The kiss was wetter than usual, saltier too, but Feng Xin only kissed him deeper, sliding from his neck to underneath his chin, tilting it upwards just barely.
Mu Qing gripped him harder, like he was afraid Feng Xin going to dissipate, leaving him to join the smoke high above them.
“I’m not leaving you, Mu Qing.”
Feng Xin dragged his lips over Mu Qing’s jaw, behind his ear, down the column of his neck. When he met the fabric covering his shoulder, he gave an experimental push at the robe’s hem. When Mu Qing didn’t resist, just continued playing with Feng Xin’s hair while he sucked a mark at the base of his neck, Feng Xin pushed the loose robe down.
One shoulder bared, then another, until Mu Qing’s torso was bare, the robe held onto his body by the tightly cinched belt alone.
“You’re beautiful, Mu Qing,” Feng Xin said, kissing from Mu Qing’s shoulder down to his fingertips.
Mu Qing shivered, and whether it was from the cold or the attention or just the sheer effort of trying to keep all his feelings contained, Feng Xin had no idea. He left kisses on every inch of Mu Qing’s skin he could reach though, now closed lip ones, delicate reminders that this was real. That they were here, together.
Each “I love you” that Feng Xin uttered became more like a prayer than the last, and Mu Qing could’ve sworn he felt a reassuring power return to his blood.
They kissed and held each other until the fire died down completely, the bitter cold now hitting their bare torsos with full force. As much they didn’t want to, feeling the other shiver in their arms signaled their need to leave, to go back inside and enjoy the last few hours before the sun rose and they were forced back into their roles as generals.
They reluctantly slipped the tops of their robes back over their shoulders to walk through the palace and back to Mu Qing’s bedroom, but they stayed holding hands the whole way. The thought of not touching each other in some capacity right now felt suffocating.
In the dark solitude of Mu Qing’s bedroom, Mu Qing grabbed Feng Xin’s hand before he was about to crawl into bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing,” Mu Qing said, changing his grip from Feng Xin’s hand to his sleeve. “Can we take these off, though? Just to sleep?”
And so, Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing’s hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss before releasing it so he could undo Mu Qing’s robes completely. The two undressed each other, casually and without rush, letting the soft and thin fabrics fall to the ground in a pile. When they laid in bed that night - Feng Xin holding Mu Qing this time - every movement of skin against skin, every exhale of breath and every particle of heat shared, reminded them that this was real.
They were real, and they were each other’s. No one had to run; no one had a realm to save. Finally, they could just be.