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“What the fuck…” Feng Xin muttered, his voice low, almost unheard amongst the sudden loud arguing happening above him. He was sitting, completely unmoving. How could he even dare to move though? How could he find a way to get his limbs that suddenly felt like they weighed tons to move enough for him to stand up and join Xie Lian in yelling at one lovable moron? Easy. He couldn’t.
“Why are you yelling at me?!” An exasperated Mu Qing’s threw his hands up in defeat. “What the hell did I say that is so wrong?!” It was the first time since oh so many centuries ago that Xie Lian had yelled at him, and it was bringing up many, many unwanted memories and deeply buried feelings. He’d finally managed to fix what he’d let break in their relationship and the three of them had been living in relative harmony as actual friends, but now he’d apparently fractured the fragile glass yet again.
“Gege, if he wants to die so badly, let him.”
Feng Xin was finally able to move just barely and whipped his head around, more than ready to rip the ghost king a whole new asshole for that completely unnecessary comment. When he did meet Hua Cheng’s one steely gray eye any and all scathing words died on the tip of his tongue though. The cold indifference and more than mild annoyance he’d expected to find on the other’s pale face was replaced by clear rage. But it’s not the rage that made Feng Xin stop. No, it was the expertly hidden look of slight fear that made him swallow his remarks. It’s been years by this point since the final battle with Jun Wu, and since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng were finally reunited and married, but it took this one moment to finally realize that Hua Cheng regarded him and Mu Qing as more than merely his husband’s deeply aggravating acquaintances; they were seen as people the ghost might possibly not like the idea of losing so easily. They’d grown on him, like mold.
“Mu Qing, did you mean it?” Xie Lian asked, sounding surprisingly more calm and collected than he had only moments ago. He’d completely disregarded Hua Cheng’s comment, but with Feng Xin’s sudden realization he could only assume Xie Lian knew ages before he did that his husband didn’t actually despise the two martial gods as much as he tries to portray.
Mu Qing was actively flitting his eyes around the inside room of Pu Qing Shrine, clearly looking for an escape, any easy out. When his gaze landed on molten gold that quickly broke it, he sighed. “Yes, but so what if I did? You say shit like that all the time,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, hoping for normalcy to take over his expression lest the three others in the room with him we’re to actually figure out he was deeply regretting the honest truth he hadn’t meant to let slip. “You do shit like that all the time!” Deflecting is his default coping mechanism, hopefully it wouldn’t fail him now.
“What I do is on instinct, I don’t plan on it until the moment,” Xie Lian tried to reason, but was promptly cut off.
“That doesn’t make it any better, Gege.” Hua Cheng admonished gently but firm.
“Not that I wouldn’t, but you, you speak as though you have made plans based upon this. Am I wrong?” The god pointedly ignored his husband’s comment, but the anxious tilt of his body to be more against the ghost made his apology clear. It wasn’t shocking seeing as how the two had apparently been working for a long time on Xie Lian’s more, less than appealing habits, that he still had yet to fully break.
Mu Qing didn’t answer right away, once again looking towards Feng Xin for anything really, but probably that out he so desperately wanted. Once he knew that no help whatsoever was coming from him, Mu Qing sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You are not wrong.” He finally exhaled sharply. Something about the way the temperature in the shrine dropped drastically had him squeezing his eyes shut more, unwilling to face his friends head on.
“You have planned on how to die for us?” Feng Xin finally asked with a volume that could be picked up now that the yelling had died down. Mu Qing’s eyes flew open in shock at the other’s tone. It was more quiet than he’d heard him be in the last 800 years. “What the fuck. What the fuck? What the FUCK MU QING?!” Ah, see, now there is the Feng Xin everyone knows. “IF YOU’RE SO WILLING TO DIE JUST LIKE THAT THEN GO JUMP OFF A FUCKING BRIDGE!” He was so clearly distraught that no one even pointed out how that would most likely not be near enough to kill a god. “DON’T USE US AS AN EXCUSE IF YOU WANNA DIE!” Just the thought of Mu Qing dying protecting the three of them without a care in the world for his own life made the blood in Feng Xin’s body boil with rage and anguish. “I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW FUCKING SELFISH YOU ARE!” He grabbed Mu Qing by the front of his robes, yanking him only inches from his snarling face.
“DON’T YELL AT ME WHEN YOU WOULDN’T CARE ANYWAY!” Mu Qing instantly regretted his heated words the moment they fell from his lips. Feng Xin’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth clacking from the sheer force, and his golden eyes seemed to be clouding over. If he cried, if he fucking cried Mu Qing may just take his advice and jump off of a very high bridge as repentance. With Feng Xin’s lips tightly shut, Mu Qing tried to open his own to apologize, or maybe yell again, or just say something, but nothing came out every time.
“Feng Xin, Feng Xin calm down a little. He didn’t mean that. We all know you care about each other. It was in the heat of the moment.” Xie Lian finally had enough of them and wrapped his arms around Feng Xin’s broad shoulders, physically pulling him away from a dazed Mu Qing. “Ah, San Lang, could you-“ he didn’t even need to finish voicing his request seeing as how Hua Cheng had already slotted himself next to Mu Qing; never touching and not too close, for obvious reasons (aka Hua Cheng has a reputation to uphold here), but near enough for his presence to provide surprising amounts of comfort. “Thank you.” Xie Lian smiled warmly at his husband from his place on the opposite side of the room with a frozen Feng Xin hanging slack in his hold. “Hey,” he tried gently, looking down into those clouded over eyes. His worry only grew from the far away look his best friend’s gaze held. “Feng Xin, I really think Mu Qing needs to know just how much we care about him, yeah?” At least that brought some clarity back to molten gold.
“Did I break him?” Mu Qing’s soft voice came from next to the red clothed man, low enough that only Hua Cheng could hear him.
“If only.” Hua Cheng snorted lightly, his tone unendingly dry but his words reassuring.
Mu Qing could only let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to die, you know.” He started, voice louder this time so that Xie Lian and Feng Xin could hear him now too. A head of fairly short brown hair finally lifted at that, but before he could say anything Mu Qing continued. “But you- I- we,” he scratched at his head, clearly visibly frustrated at his lack of communication skills. He’s never had a problem speaking his mind when it came to telling others off, but apparently “feelings” get lodged in the back of his throat. The other three were patiently silent as they waited for Mu Qing to get his thoughts in order. “You are my, my friends,” the word sounded strained coming from him, but before anyone could speak up he kept going. “You’re all I have left. F-from Xianle. I know I’m an ass, but I do c-care about you. If my death means you live, I’d put my life on the line as many times as I need to.” Satisfied with his explanation, Mu Qing went silent again, his gaze moving around the room looking for anything to avoid the five eyes burning holes into his body. Eventually he did end up lingering on the gold directly across from him.
“You are such a goddamn idiot.” Feng Xin growled with absolutely no bite whatsoever. “You think we’d be okay with that? With you dying for us? Really?” He was still in disbelief that Mu Qing -the cold hearted and emotionally absent Mu Qing- was prepared to use his own life to keep the rest of them alive. He’s spent only a little under 800 years being the only one with the other god, he knows him like the back of his hand; he knows him like he knows his bow (which is a shit ton). This really should not be as shocking to him as it is because he knows Mu Qing, but in reality it wasn’t. He knows better than anyone just what kind of person Mu Qing is, just how deeply his unspoken devotion goes, just how much he’d risk for the ones gathered in this room. “If you fucking die, I’ll kill you.” Even if he knows all of this, or perhaps because he knows all of this, he can’t accept a world without Mu Qing. He’s never had such a devoted best friend; not even his relationship with Xie Lian could ever hold a candle to the one he shares with the sarcastic asshole himself. Knowing how Mu Qing views himself in terms of their relationship, how willing he is to take himself out of the equation, leaves a deep gaping pit in the center of his heart. Feng Xin has ignored this truth for years for a reason.
“I don’t need you to be okay with it. Please don’t be okay with it.” Mu Qing practically pleaded. “But you can’t stop me.” His tone was so resolute, like there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind or stand in his way when it came to this.
“What if I were to die for you?” Xie Lian spoke up. “Ah, I meant, what if Feng Xin were to try and die for you? What would you do then?” He quickly changed his words when he caught Hua Cheng’s deeply disapproving look.
Mu Qing was slightly taken aback by the question, but answered with no hesitation, “Slap some sense into him.” He raised an eyebrow, appraising Xie Lian with a look. “As for you, you are too prone to do it, Crimson Rain would stop you. But I would also slap sense into you afterwards.”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware.” Xie Lian muttered, not daring to look at Hua Cheng this time.
“Then what’s so fucking different about you?” Feng Xin took over the line of questioning, finally understanding where his friend was going with this. “You can die for us, but I cannot die for you?” In all truth he probably would with no questions asked, but no one needs to know that. Plus, Mu Qing was the only one to admit that he has actual plans about how to go about sacrificing himself should the need arrive; not even Hua Cheng thinks like that (probably).
“I-“ Mu Qing was at a loss for words. It’s painfully easy to understand where his friends are coming from, what his best friend means, but he doesn’t want to. Understanding their points will only lead to painful regret and he can’t handle any more regrets piled up on his chest constricting his breathing.
“You’re not being fair, Mu Qing.” Feng Xin finally pried himself out of Xie Lian’s arms and was slowly but surely making his way towards his frowning friend.
Mu Qing tried to back away from his impending doom, but was met with the firm chest of Hua Cheng blocking his only feasible way out of this situation. The bitch. He glared, but Hua Cheng only smirked down at him; it didn’t quite reach his eye, but Mu Qing was not going to dwell on that. “What would you have me do instead then, since you are now an all knowing martial god.” The sarcasm was back, but that was just another deflection. The reality that he doesn’t actually know how to do much else was really starting to press down on him.
“Live.” Feng Xin said quickly and simply leaving Mu Qing reeling from confusion.
“What?” Isn’t this what they were just arguing about in the first place? How is that any type of solution?!
Feng Xin’s smile was calm, it was sweet, it was beautiful. “Live for us instead.”
“Wait-“ Mu Qing again tried to create space between himself and a dangerously close Feng Xin; a light coating of cold sweat appearing on his body.
“Fight with us, spend time with us, talk with us, laugh with us, cry with us.” Feng Xin actively ignored Mu Qing’s now shaking form, slowly wrapping his arms around him instead. “Just don’t die until it’s with us.” He whispered into long black hair, lightly brushing through it absentmindedly. “I’m serious that if you die I’ll kill you.”
Mu Qing couldn’t hold back anymore and returned the embrace in full. “That doesn’t even make sense you idiot!” He cried into Feng Xin’s shoulder, body now shaking from the sobs that wracked through him instead. He spent only a moment alone in his best friend’s arms before another pair were pulling the both of them into their own bone crushing hug. Xie Lian apparently couldn’t hold himself back any longer and joined in on their hug quickly making it a group hug. Turning his head slightly to the side to rest on Feng Xin’s shoulder instead of buried in it he noticed a silver wraith butterfly perched perfectly still on his own shoulder. Hua Cheng was still off to the side of the three, but he participated in his own way, also unable to completely hold himself back.
“You are a strong martial god with many devotees and loyal friends, do not think so little of yourself.” Xie Lian lightly scolded Mu Qing, his face pressed into silky tied up black hair.
Mu Qing couldn’t help the wet laugh that fell from his lips. “I don’t want to hear that from you, Xie Lian.” He was slightly breathless from the crying, but his point got across perfectly fine.
“Th-this isn’t about me!”
“No, no I do think we should discuss this more, Gege.” A deep voice cut into their moment. “Has your San Lang truly failed in his mission to disrupt these thoughts?”
“San Laaannggg!” Xie Lian whined.
Wrapped in a tight but not suffocating embrace, his friend and his husband bickering lovingly back and forth, a deadly butterfly still on his person, and resting his head against the shoulder of the one person he knows understands him in a way he himself may not even be capable of, Mu Qing finally comes to the conclusion that dying for them would be easy, but leaving them much too difficult of a thought to have.
And so he didn’t.