Work Text:
Present, 11:29 pm, New Year’s Eve.
Feng Xin leans against the bar and surveys the room while he waits for Mu Qing’s drink.
Their group of friends is here, as usual, along with acquaintances and work friends of both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, since the party is at their place. It’s natural to have the bigger get-togethers at their house because they’re the only ones who actually have an honest-to-goodness house. Everyone else they know, Feng Xin and Mu Qing included, is renting two-bedrooms (if they're lucky) in the city.
What’s not natural, he thinks, wiping the condensation from his cold beer bottle on his jeans, is having an actual fucking bartender at an actual fucking bar at this party. Feng Xin takes a swig of beer and reminds himself that he’s not jealous and his friend deserves all this and more.
He and Mu Qing have better things to spend their money on, anyway. Like toys for their cat, occasional dinners out, and saving up for their wedding in a few months. Just the thought of that makes him smile a little bit helplessly.
“Your drink, sir,” he hears behind him, and turns back to the bartender. “Vodka tonic with lime and lemon. Enjoy.”
Feng Xin nods his thanks and takes the drink–a highball on a crisp white cocktail napkin, the lemon and lime wedges balanced artistically on the rim of the glass with a tiny plastic sword. It’s pretentious as hell, and he wonders again just what exactly Hua Cheng does for a living that has made him so damn wealthy.
He finds Mu Qing in the same room where he’d left him chatting with Shi Qingxuan, only now he’s seated in an armchair looking at his phone. Feng Xin makes his way over and perches on the chair’s armrest before handing Mu Qing his cocktail.
“One alcoholic Sprite for the hottest guy in the room.”
Predictably, Mu Qing rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the blush that rises on his cheeks. Feng Xin grins against the rim of the bottle as he takes another drink of his beer. His grin widens when Mu Qing sets his phone face down on his lap and leans to the side to rest his elbow on Feng Xin’s thigh.
“Where’d Qingxuan go?" Feng Xin asks. "It didn’t take me that long at the bar.”
Mu Qing snorts a laugh. “They found out some poor sap from Dianxia’s work didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight, so they’re on a mission.” He shrugs. “Good luck to ‘em. The number of people here is finite, and I see a lot of couples.”
Feng Xin nudges Mu Qing’s shoulder with his elbow. “I’m glad we don’t have to worry about that, aren’t you? I’m too old for that kind of pressure.”
“Ah, yes, elderly at 23. Such a shame.” Mu Qing laughs again, a soft little huff. He glances up at Feng Xin for a moment before stretching his arm out so it rests along the length of Feng Xin’s thigh, giving his knee a little squeeze. He’s just handsy enough to make it obvious that this is his second drink tonight. Feng Xin finds it rather delightful. “Hard to believe it’s been five years,” Mu Qing murmurs.
“God, we were so stupid back then.”
Mu Qing slaps Feng Xin’s knee. “Hey!”
“What?” Feng Xin says, laughing. “I said we!”
Mu Qing sighs. “Do you remember…”
“Do I remember our first kiss?” He laughs again. “Yes, Qing-er, I remember. It’s hard to forget that you didn’t speak to me for three weeks after, too.”
“Yeah, we were stupid.”
“So fucking stupid.”
***
Five years ago, 11:54 pm, New Year’s Eve.
Xie Lian’s house is crowded with friends and classmates. The music is probably too loud for the quiet, upscale neighborhood, but his parents are not only away but also aware of the party, though it may have been billed as a “little get-together” at the time it was allowed. Not too many friends, no alcohol, no girls allowed to spend the night.
There are dozens of people filling the house and someone brought beer, but the only person planning to stay over is Feng Xin, so, well…one out of three isn’t too bad, really. Could be worse.
This close to midnight, excitement has ramped up. There are several couples already making out, obviously paying no heed to time or tradition, which isn’t surprising, since most high schoolers don’t actually care about the reason, they’ll just take any excuse to kiss.
And make fun of their peers, of course. The famous midnight kiss has been the source of enough teasing tonight to make Feng Xin want to punch the next person who mentions it.
He sidesteps through the sea of people in the kitchen, trying to get to Xie Lian, who is currently filling a glass of water from the dispenser on the door of the fridge. It’s one of the only sources of liquid besides the tap that they can be sure isn’t spiked.
“Hey, Dianxia,” he calls, and Xie Lian turns. “Have you seen Mu Qing?”
Xie Lian shakes his head. “Not for a while. Is everything okay?”
“Oh…yeah. It’s fine. I just…” Feng Xin frowns and looks back across the kitchen and into the living room. “Where the fuck is he?” he mutters to himself.
“Mu Qing? Somebody saw him go outside,” a guy in their class–Kevin or Kyle or something, Feng Xin truly doesn’t care–butts in. “Looking for a midnight smooch, Ju Yang? Maybe you can melt that ice princess. Don’t know why you’d want to try, but more power to you if you do.”
He’s called Mu Qing a thousand names over the past decade, many of them worse than the weak insults of this jackass. But that’s him. No one else gets to ridicule Mu Qing like that. No one else gets to look at him sideways, either; not on Feng Xin’s watch, or Xie Lian’s, for that matter.
The only reason Feng Xin doesn’t punch Kyle-Kevin is because he’s respectful and doesn’t want to dirty Mrs. Xie’s pristine floor with the blood from this dipshit’s broken nose. Feng Xin just takes a moment to envision it instead before walking away, making sure to shove him with his shoulder as he passes by. “Fuck off. And don’t call me that.”
It’s unseasonably warm outside but still cool enough that he should’ve brought a jacket, though at–he checks his watch–11:56 pm, there isn’t time to go up to Xie Lian’s room to get it.
The sound of the party is dulled by the sliding patio door when he closes it behind him. Kevin or Kyle or whatever is an asshole, but at least he was right about Mu Qing’s whereabouts. He’s sitting on a bench placed just at the edge of the patio, where the flagstone ends and a brick path slopes down through the garden. Outside in the midnight-darkness, the moonlight shining on his black hair and dark clothes makes Mu Qing look otherworldly, ethereal. Feng Xin takes a deep breath before making his way across the patio.
“Hey,” he says as he sits down on the bench.
“Hey.”
Silence.
Feng Xin glances surreptitiously at his watch, only to realize he can’t see it in the dark without making it obvious what he’s doing. Dammit.
“What are you doing out here?”
Mu Qing scowls. “It’s hot as hell in there, full of idiots and assholes, and loud enough to rattle the windows.”
“Okay, old man,” Feng Xin says, laughing. “Are you going to shake your fist at them and tell those whippersnappers to get off your lawn?”
Mu Qing gives him a side-eye glare. “What are you doing out here?”
He takes another deep breath. “Well, it’s almost midnight, and…and I couldn’t find you inside.”
“You were looking for me?” Mu Qing’s expression, still guarded, shifts to confusion. “Why?”
“Like I said, it’s like, one minute to midnight, so…” Yet another deep breath, this time with a shudder on the exhale. He’s fucking this up, he knows it. “I guess you’ve heard about the tradition that somebody made up for some reason…”
“It was probably the Romans,” Mu Qing says softly, “during Saturnalia. No one knows for sure where the tradition started for the–” he licks his lips, and Feng Xin dies a little, “–the midnight kiss.”
“Oh, so you know about it?” Feng Xin says, relieved.
“Everyone knows about it, dumbass.”
Okay, fuck you is on the tip of his tongue, but that would definitely kill the mood, so he takes what must be his tenth deep, steadying breath of the past five minutes and soldiers on.
Here goes nothing.
“Would you maybe want to…” he chances a glance to the side to find Mu Qing facing him, eyes wide. “At midnight? With me?” He can’t quite say it, but dammit, that’s the best he can do right now.
The noise from inside the house gets louder all of a sudden, so it must be midnight. There are obviously several people with very annoying noisemakers, and someone seems to have brought a vuvuzela. But none of that noise matters out here under the moonlight, where it’s just the two of them and the night and one whispered answer.
“Yeah…okay.”
They both lean in, and when their lips meet, it’s warmth and softness and a feeling that makes his fingertips tingle.
Mu Qing tastes like cherry lip balm and root beer. It’s amazing.
Feng Xin knows his lips are chapped and he probably tastes like the actual beer he had earlier, but Mu Qing hasn’t pulled away yet, so it must be okay.
He is so, so glad it’s okay.
It’s…better than okay. It’s everything.
The sliding door opens, allowing the sound of the party to spill outside. Feng Xin opens his eyes to see that Mu Qing’s are still closed and wishes, hopes, prays for the door to close again and leave them to their moment.
It does not.
“Get it, Ju Yang! I told you you could melt that ice princess if you tried! Woooo!” Kevin-Kyle hollers from the doorway.
Mu Qing’s eyes snap open and he backs away with a gasp. Feng Xin leaps up from the bench to face the patio door.
“Fuck off, you fucking shithead!”
“Damn…chill, man. It’s not that serious.” Kyle-Kevin-Asshole turns and goes back inside, not even bothering to close the door.
When Feng Xin looks down at Mu Qing, he finds his expression shuttered, but the look in his eyes pierces Feng Xin’s heart.
“Mu Qing, I–”
“No,” Mu Qing breathes, standing up. “Screw you, Feng Xin.”
Before he can even catch his breath, Mu Qing is gone, and Feng Xin is left standing on the moonlit patio, alone with the sound of the party and his pounding heart.
***
Present, 11:54 pm, New Year’s Eve.
“I thought that guy put you up to it or something. How was I supposed to know you liked me? I had no idea!”
“Well, I had just kissed you.”
“I didn’t think you meant it.”
“Mu Qing, believe me, I meant it.”
“I know that now.”
A beat of silence.
“You know, I very accidentally hit that Kyle guy with a line drive that spring. It wasn’t my fault he was warming up in the bullpen and the ball went foul. It could happen to anyone. Total accident.”
“Feng Xin, his name was Cooper, not Kyle, and you gave him one hell of a black eye.”
“Like I said, completely accidental. Baseball can be dangerous.”
Mu Qing laughs. “You’re a menace, A-Xin. I hope you appreciate that I still love you even with all your nonsense.”
“I do,” Feng Xin says with a grin. “I really, really do.”
It’s a few minutes too early, but Feng Xin doesn’t care about time or tradition when his fiancé is right there and so gorgeous and he’s so, so in love. He leans down for a kiss and Mu Qing smiles as he stretches up to meet him.
They’re still kissing two minutes later when everyone around them is yelling, “Happy New Year!” and Auld Lang Syne is playing somewhere on the television.
Yeah. It’s going to be a great year.