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There was a knock on the door of the apartment Xie Lian shared with his fiance. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but still yelled a “Coming!” down the hallway and ran to open the door.
Standing on his front step was Mu Qing, wearing a backpack and with a full tote bag slung over one shoulder. “We have bedbugs. Let us in.”
Expression unchanged, Xie Lian started to close the door. Feng Xin jumped from behind Mu Qing and put an arm up to stop it, his whole forearm and loose fist flush with the wood and propping it open. He looked back over his shoulder.
“Jesus Mu Qing, don’t say it like that.” He turned to Xie Lian. “What he means is our place has bedbugs and we need somewhere to stay for a couple days while we wait for them to treat it. And Mu Qing keeps freaking out about having bugs feeding on him in his sleep. Everything we’re wearing and carrying is fine, Mu Qing put them all through the dryer and kept them separate, even our shoes and bags. Please let us stay.”
Xie Lian eased the door open. If there was anyone he could trust to do a good job with that kind of thing, it was Mu Qing. And Feng Xin would never ask for anything he thought would put Xie Lian in harm’s way. It should be totally fine to have them stay a few days, at least from that angle… “Well, alright. Lucky for you, we finally set up the spare room! You’ll be the first guests :) Come in, come in. San Lang isn’t home yet but I can get you settled.”
For some reason, Feng Xin and Mu Qing looked most relieved hearing that last part. Xie Lian had never had bedbugs, but he’d heard it’s an ordeal, so they must be happy for a place where they can get any reprieve. He hasn’t always been in a position to offer someone a place to stay (he hasn’t even always had a place to stay himself); thank goodness things have changed and he can help out his closest friends when they’re in a tight spot.
Xie Lian made small talk as Feng Xin and Mu Qing took off their shoes inside the door. “So do you know how you got them?”
Feng Xin shrugged. “Who knows? You can get them kinda anywhere apparently. Like really anywhere, without trying. My goal is to forget that as soon as possible.”
Mu Qing just shuddered and his face got dark.
Xie Lian clapped his hands together. “Well you’re here now! Let me make you some tea and then we’ll take care of the rest.”
~~~
Much later, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng were curled up together in bed, Hua Cheng’s fingers absently trailing through Xie Lian’s hair. “San Lang?’
“Mm?” Hua Cheng’s voice was smooth and low even in a hum like this, and Xie Lian never got enough of it.
“Do you think they’ll be okay in there?”
“What do you mean, gege? It should be all set up, and they’re hearty, they’d be okay even if we forgot something.” His tone and expression said that while of course he would never miss something important, he wishes he had.
“San Lang!” Xie Lian playfully slapped at his fiance’s chest, smiling. “No, you know what I mean!”
Hua Cheng’s grin turned wolfish. “On the contrary, gege, I think this might be just what they need.”
~~~
Xie Lian had waited until nearly bedtime to actually show them to the spare room. And he had barely flicked the lights on before he disappeared, leaving Feng Xin and Mu Qing standing there, staring.
“There’s only…one bed,” Feng Xin said, sounding dumbstruck.
Mu Qing recovered and went to put his things down on the floor next to the far side of the bed. “Of course, you idiot, who has a spare room with two beds in it?” Not that Mu Qing had considered this either. He’d just needed to not be a nightly blood sacrifice anymore, and if that meant sharing a bed with Feng Xin for a couple days, well, at least Feng Xin wouldn’t suck his blood and give him welts in his sleep. Probably.
“Come on, get ready for bed, I’m exhausted,” Mu Qing said, not sparing Feng Xin a glance and starting to unpack.
Feng Xin shook himself out of it and moved to do the same, dropping his duffel on the bed and unzipping it. Mu Qing “tch”ed and rolled his eyes.
“What?” Feng Xin asked, though it was a tad hostile to be a real question.
“Nothing, I shouldn’t be surprised you’re the kind of person who doesn’t respect cleanliness or sanctity,” Mu Qing replied, sweeping his hand at Feng Xin’s clearly outside things on the bed.
Feng Xin scoffed. “And I shouldn’t be surprised you’re the kind of person who gives a shit about things that literally don’t matter.”
The glare they exchanged was almost visible as a bolt of electricity, but this had happened so much over the years that it was more a discharging of static than anything else. It dispelled and they went back to settling in on their respective sides of the room and getting ready for sleep.
When Mu Qing came back from the bathroom, dressed in his PJs and ready to climb into bed, Feng Xin was lying on the covers in his boxers and an old t-shirt. The fabric was worn so thin that Mu Qing could see all the lines of Feng Xin’s torso through it. Something about the image made him shiver.
Feng Xin looked up from where he was lying on the bed as Mu Qing walked around and set his toiletry kit on the nightstand. Feng Xin followed him with his eyes the whole time, and Mu Qing quirked an eyebrow at him in question.
“Hey, since we moved in together,” Feng Xin began. “I’ve always wanted to ask. You never wore stuff like that when we were kids, why are you so into it now?”
Mu Qing knew Feng Xin was talking about his pajamas, which had indeed changed a lot since they were kids. Back then, he’d worn whatever he could scrounge up that wasn’t nice enough to wear outside the house, which was a mix of hand-me-downs from family friends, his own old t-shirts from school and team events and the like, and Xie Lian’s and Feng Xin’s old spare t-shirts from their own teams and etc. Now, instead of making do, Mu Qing wore things that were made to be pajamas, and tonight it was a little jersey set of shorts and button-down t-shirt with wide lapels and a low neckline.
Mu Qing leveled a gaze at Feng Xin, not believing he had to spell this out for him. “You know I was dirt poor when we were growing up, right?”
Feng Xin propped himself up on an elbow, facing Mu Qing who stood there with his hands on his hips, looking down at him.
“Yeah, but I wear the stuff you used to wear and I’m not poor,” Feng Xin replied.
“Yeah and you have the choice to wear something else. I didn’t.” Mu Qing sighed, resigned to a full explanation. “For whatever reason, little me latched onto the idea that not being poor meant real pajamas, so when I could finally afford it as an adult, I tried them out. And I ended up actually really liking them, so I switched all the way over. I don’t think there’s anything weird about that, it’s literally what they’re made for.”
“Whoa I never said it’s weird, geez, you always get so defensive. I just noticed and was curious, that’s all.” Feng Xin flopped back onto the bed.
“Whatever. Are you okay if I switch the lights?” he asked, having turned on the salt lamp (that was the only light on the nightstand) and now waiting with his hand on the light switch by the door.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Mu Qing flicked off the switch, and the room was suddenly dimly and warmly lit with the rosy orange glow of the salt lamp in the corner. It did feel very Xie-Lian-trying-to-put-company-at-ease, but Mu Qing had to admit he found it calming. As Mu Qing walked back around to his side of the bed, he felt Feng Xin’s eyes on him again. He stared pointedly at Feng Xin as he tugged on the corner of the covers.
“Oh shit right, sorry,” Feng Xin said as he scrambled to get under the blankets instead of on top of them. With the bedding now freed, Mu Qing climbed in wordlessly and lay down on his side, which happened to put them facing each other. Feng Xin seemed fixated on something in the vicinity of Mu Qing’s collar. Ugh, get over the pajama thing already. “What are you staring at?”
“Uh, nothing, sorry.” Feng Xin seemed flustered. Mu Qing just raised an eyebrow and kept silent. Seeming to collect himself, Feng Xin went on, “I’m just happy we’re not going to get eaten alive tonight.”
Again, Mu Qing shivered, and part of it felt like the bug horror he’d been dealing with all week, but part of it was something else he couldn’t place and wasn’t sure he understood. He shrugged it off. “Don’t remind me. We’re here to get away from that.”
“Thank goodness Xie Lian let us stay. We didn’t really have a backup.”
“Well neither of us has ever been great at making friends,” Mu Qing said. Feng Xin opened his mouth like he was going to fight him on that, then closed it.
Mu Qing figured this was just about the end of their conversation for the night, and rolled over just enough to reach for the top of his nightstand. As he rolled back to where he’d been facing before, he clicked his night guard into place over his top row of teeth.
“Whoa, I didn’t know you had a night guard! Do you grind your teeth that bad?” Feng Xin asked, a little wide-eyed.
Mu Qing was incredulous. “It’s been in the bathroom cabinet with all our other things the whole time we’ve lived together, you’ve definitely seen it, this is not news.”
“Okay well I’ve never noticed it before! So I’m just surprised, that’s all!”
Mu Qing smiled, taunting and thinking back to Feng Xin’s reaction to the number of beds. “This night is full of surprises for you, isn’t it?”
Mu Qing was relieved when Feng Xin’s face went to frustration and anger instead of amusement, since they’d been talking for a minute now with his night guard in. No one else had really seen him with it in, other than his dentist, and he knew it made his voice sound different, and different in a way that made him possibly unreasonably self-conscious. He also knew it made his mouth taste (and therefore breath probably smell) solidly unpleasant by morning. He’d never known what people meant by “morning breath” until he’d started wearing this, and while he did need it, he wasn’t a fan of the side effects. Especially when he was sharing a bed with Feng Xin like this. Not that it mattered how Feng Xin thought his voice sounded or his breath tasted. He didn’t even know why he’d thought of that.
Feng Xin’s frustrated voice broke through his thoughts. “Fuck you, it also just looks really different than I thought! I haven’t seen one before, and I thought they’d be more like—more like the mouth guards we use for sparring.”
Mu Qing can’t help but laugh, and he reflexively covers his mouth. “That’s so ridiculous! Those are huge! You can’t even close your mouth around them!”
Feng Xin was laughing now, too. “Think of the river of drool that would make! You’d wake up covered in it!”
“That’s absolutely disgusting,” Mu Qing said, hitting Feng Xin in the shoulder. “And this one isn’t like that at all.” For some reason, it felt important that Feng Xin know Mu Qing did not wake up covered in drool, and was in fact a reasonably desirable person to share a bed with.
Feng Xin rubbed his shoulder, but Mu Qing knew it didn’t really sting because Feng Xin was still smiling. “No, it’s a lot smaller, plus it makes you sound so cute when you talk.” Feng Xin grinned a shit-eating grin, and Mu Qing felt a blush creeping up his neck.
“—the fuck, Feng Xin?!”
Feng Xin just laughed as Mu Qing sat there, turning red from anger, embarrassment, and maybe something else. And there had been enough of these mysterious “something else”s tonight that Mu Qing finally decided to ask a question he’d been wondering for a while now.
“How do you know if you like someone?”
Feng Xin practically froze mid-laugh and looked over at Mu Qing, before adjusting to the swift right-turn in topic and regaining his normal speech. “I thought you were ace, don’t you know?”
“Dumbass, part of the point is that I don’t. It’s like a weird negative definition space. It’s tricky to say ‘I don’t feel this’ when I don’t know what ‘this’ feels like to begin with.” Silence. “So just answer the fucking question.”
“Okay, well…I’ll try. But like, what kind of like? Like romantic like? Sexy like?” Feng Xin had the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows.
Mu Qing shoved him, but there was no oompf to it. “All of it, asshole. Start somewhere.”
“Okay. Um. Yes. So you know I’m demi, so it’s still a little different from maybe the answer you want? It comes in parts? But for romantic like, it’s just…like I want to be around them a lot , and I look for excuses to see them, and things they like make me think of them so I want to show them. Like you know how I—” Here, Feng Xin cut himself off in a sudden panic, but Mu Qing barely noticed, caught up in thought about the rest of what he’d said.
“How is all that different from how you feel about friends and other people you like but don’t like ?”
“Yeah, sometimes it’s hard to tell? But with the like liking, there can also be this fluttery feeling? I get it in my gut and it makes me feel a little sick sometimes but in a good way?” Mu Qing looked skeptical, but nodded for him to continue. “And sometimes I notice like less based on how I feel but what I’m doing? Like if I’m doing these little things that I know mean I like someone. Kind of like reading myself and my own signals?”
Mu Qing nodded slowly, taking it in. That made sense, he’s had to learn to read his own body and behavior kind of from the ground up, and there are plenty of things about himself he’s learned from the outside-in, rather than what apparently some folks do, which is just to know how they feel. Sounds confusing.
He did get the concept Feng Xin was talking about, but for some reason, Mu Qing still wanted more specifics. “What are your tells? Like what are those things you read on yourself?”
Feng Xin blushed a little and shifted his gaze around the room. “Um. Okay. A couple things only, though. And this is for educational purposes, because you’re asking!” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, not sure what the fuss was about, then looked at him expectantly. “One is when someone texts me, like if I’m always excited and can’t wait to reply, instead of just ‘whatever, I’ll get to it in a sec’ like how I usually feel about texts? Or I catch myself looking at the person a lot? Or after we hang out, I’ll be thinking about it for a long time, or before I fall asleep, even if it was really normal and nothing special happened and there’s nothing really to think about? I don’t know, it’s hard to remember stuff like this when you’re put on the spot. Does any of that help?”
It did. Mu Qing was familiar with all of those…impulses? He wondered if it also meant something if you smiled way too big and touched the top of your phone to your face after a nice text exchange with someone. Probably. And he did that a lot. Pretty much anytime he and Feng Xin were bickering over text. But something Feng Xin had said bothered him—the idea of thinking “whatever, I’ll get to it in a sec” for his texts. It was how he felt himself most of the time, but it bothered Mu Qing that Feng Xin might feel that way when Mu Qing texted him. For some reason.
“Okay,” Mu Qing started. “That helps. Actually a lot. Thanks. Now what about the other stuff?”
Feng Xin gave him a blank look. “The…other stuff?”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes in exasperation. He sure as hell wasn’t going to actually say it. “Yeah, you said there’s a couple kinds of ‘like’ and you just talked about one kind sooo… what about the other stuff?”
Understanding dawned on Feng Xin’s face, and he flushed again. “OH. Ahem. Yes. The Other Stuff. That. Um. Do we really have to talk about this?”
“No, you could let me down and leave me in the lurch because you’re too uncomfortable to talk about your feelings.”
Feng Xin snorted. “Big words coming from you.” Mu Qing would’ve been offended if anyone else had said something like this to him, but Feng Xin knew how Mu Qing was, and Mu Qing knew he knew, and they’d both known for years. Water long since under the bridge. Mu Qing stuck his tongue out and Feng Xin sighed.
“Fine. But if you tease me about any of this, now or later, I’m going to get pissed. I’m doing this for you, remember.” Mu Qing nodded again, waiting.
“Okay. So the sexy like. This one’s a little newer and weirder to me? Because, you know, that whole demi thing? I’ve only felt the sexy like a couple times.” A couple times? Mu Qing wondered. I’ve only heard about the one…
“For me, the sexy like is like…wanting to do really specific things? And the want comes from my body, if that makes sense, like it’s not like a thought my brain is having, it’s like a thought my body is having. Like it’s actually coming from the muscles.” Mu Qing resisted making a rude comment, partly because Feng Xin had asked, and partly because he wanted him to keep going.
“Like for kissing, it’s not like I always have the thought ‘I want to kiss them,’ it’s way more like my lips want to feel a certain way that they feel when they’re kissing. Or like my lips want to be on a certain part of someone’s skin or…something.” Feng Xin blushed but kept going. “Or like some part of my skin wants to be touched a certain way, and a way that’s different from when Xie Lian hugs me or a teammate nudges my shoulder or something. Sometimes the sexy like is also this feeling of not being able to be close enough to someone? And like the only way we could be close enough, like in the way I want to be close right then, is to touch like that? Again, it comes from my body, it’s like my body is reaching? Always leaning in a little more, wanting a little more of what it’s getting? It’s urgent, like how it can be urgent to want to be touched when you need comfort, but it’s not necessarily about getting comfort. It’s a different type of feeling, and a different type of touch, but it’s urgent like that? Does that even make sense?”
Mu Qing became aware that he’d been leaning in and had gone a bit glassy while Feng Xin was talking, taking it all in raptly. He coughed to clear his throat. “Yeah, yeah, that made sense. It…did.”
Feng Xin seemed to key in enough to Mu Qing now to raise an eyebrow. “It…did, huh?”
Mu Qing had a million thoughts and feelings and memories whirling around inside him all at once, bouncing off and sticking to each other. Bits of their conversation just now causing the most trouble. Making him rethink things that had happened, tonight and years ago. See them in a new way. With a new understanding. Why didn’t people talk about this shit more often? Break it down, describe literally any part of it? It was so much easier to see even just with this tiny bit of context and explanation, and here he’d gone a lot of key years not knowing it.
“Hey, Mu Qing, are you okay?” Feng Xin asked, concern in his voice, pulling Mu Qing out of his thoughts. He realized his face was scrunched and tense, but he barely relaxed it as he met Feng Xin’s eyes with his own.
“Feng Xin, I’m gay.”
Feng Xin very quickly looked less concerned and more confused. “I thought you were ace.”
“Ugh, you can be both, dumbass.”
“I know that, asshole,” Feng Xin said, exasperated and jerking a pointed finger at his own face by way of example. “But I thought you were like…all the kinds of ace? In a way that meant you weren’t gay or straight or anything?”
“Yeah, well, I thought so too. But apparently I’m some kind of ace and gay. At least according to someone’s ideas of what it means to feel…certain things.”
Feng Xin’s eyes went wide. “Whoa whoa, don’t take my word for it, that’s just how I feel and it makes sense to me but—”
“Psh. Don’t take all the credit for my own gay awakening.” Not that he shouldn’t take most of it, and not just because of the conversation we just had. “Yeah, I’ll read some Tumblr posts or whatever later and figure out the details and where this puts me. But it’s not just what you said, it’s…putting it all together. Thinking about some things in a new way and it all just…clicked.”
Feng Xin stared at him dumbly.
Then, “Do you wanna, you know, ta—”
“If you ask me if I want to talk about it, I swear to god I will shave your eyebrows off in your sleep.” Mu Qing paused and looked away. “But…thanks. For offering. And for answering my questions. It—it helped.” He looked back at Feng Xin. “A lot.”
Feng Xin smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah. Um. Happy to help.”
They lay there like that, wrapped in tentative emotions and a quiet that was neither expectant nor devoid of expectations. Mu Qing had some ideas about what he wanted, but this had already been a lot to process, and they were also going to need to keep sharing this room (this bed) for a few more days. So he settled for something in the middle.
“Do you want to hold me?” he asked.
Feng Xin spluttered. “Wh—what?”
“It’s a simple question. Do you want to hold me?” He looked away. “Do your arms want to feel that way? The way they feel when they’re wrapped around someone? Er, me.”
Feng Xin softened a little, but still seemed cautious.“Yeah. Uh, yeah, they…do. Want that.”
“Okay.”
“Do you…want that?”
“Whatever.”
“Mu Qing.” There was a reprimand in Feng Xin’s tone. That was fair.
“Yes, okay? Yes, I want that.”
Feng Xin smiled, tentative again but warm. “Okay. Then…”
Mu Qing didn’t really move. This was new territory. The platonic cuddles he shared with Xie Lian were usually on a couch, not a bed, and were initiated by his more touchy-feely (though equally touch-starved) friend, so he knew how to cuddle but not how to start it.
Feng Xin scooted closer across the bed, a bit like a baby seal wiggling on the beach. Mu Qing couldn’t help but snicker.
“What?” Feng Xin asked, a bit aggressive, but only in the way everything he said sometimes was a bit aggressive.
“Nothing. You just reminded me of a seal, flopping on the beach.” He laughed into his hand.
“Why you—” and Feng Xin went for it, flopping on top of a playfully flailing Mu Qing, pushing him over onto his back, Feng Xin’s arms tucked close and his hands made to be like little seal fins pinning Mu Qing’s shoulders. They were both laughing, until their eyes met, suddenly aware of how most of Feng Xin’s body was on top of Mu Qing’s, and their faces so close. Mu Qing could feel Feng Xin’s weight where he held his shoulders down into the bed. He gulped.
“Oh,” said Mu Qing.
“Oh,” said Feng Xin.
They were quiet for a minute, and Mu Qing could feel their heartbeats hammering against each other in their chests, their stomachs, everywhere.
“So you, you wanted to hold me?”
Feng Xin laughed dryly. “I still want to hold you, asshole.” The way Feng Xin said it, the epithet sounded like an endearment.
“So do it then.”
Feng Xin sighed. “You. are. impossible,” he said, and the words felt like they plinked down fondly as Feng Xin shifted his arms to worm them under Mu Qing’s shoulders and roll the two of them over, so Mu Qing was lying curled up against Feng Xin’s side, half on top of him. Mu Qing hesitantly set an arm across Feng Xin’s chest, his hand resting on Feng Xin’s far shoulder. Feng Xin brought his own hand to wrap gently around Mu Qing’s wrist there and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
It felt like the permission Mu Qing needed to relax. He let his weight sink into the man next to him, his arm across his chest, one of his legs tucked over one of Feng Xin’s, his chest and hips tucked in close and leaning on Feng Xin’s side. He let Feng Xin take the weight of his head on his shoulder. Feng Xin had one arm wrapped under Mu Qing, and brought that hand up to stroke Mu Qing’s hair. Against his usual impulses, Mu Qing let himself hum and lean back into the touch. Feng Xin chuckled and pulled Mu Qing’s hair out of its ponytail. His hand was firm, good deep pleasure, against Mu Qing’s scalp, but gentle when it pulled through his long hair. It felt so good that if Mu Qing’s eyes had been open, they would’ve rolled back for something very different than their usual reason. He tightened his grip where he held Feng Xin’s shoulder in his hand and where his leg draped over him. Feng Xin let out a small gasp, soft in the dim room.
“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin started to ask. “Do you want to—”
“Stay like this? Yes, I do. Everything else, maybe tomorrow.”
Feng Xin looked caught off guard for a second, then he smiled. “Yeah, maybe tomorrow.”
It had been a lot to take in, even if it was settling well. And Mu Qing was curious about what else was here, and what else there was for him to keep exploring. But tonight, this was all he could really be sure of wanting. And whatever he would or wouldn’t admit out loud, gods, did it feel good to let himself have it.