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Mu Qing only allows himself to slide down the wall and hide his face in his hands once Feng Xin storms out of their apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.
The day was going just fine — they cuddled in bed for almost an hour in the morning, then went for a walk and made dinner together — until Feng Xin accidentally knocked Mu Qing’s favorite mug off the kitchen counter with his elbow. It had fallen to the floor, shattering into pieces, the leftover tea spilling onto the tiles. They both had stood there, staring at the mess in shock for a few seconds.
“Baby, I’m sorry-“ Feng Xin began saying upon seeing the killing intent clearly written across Mu Qing’s face.
“What. the. fuck.” Mu Qing could already feel his hands shaking at that point, trying his best to control his tone and failing miserably. “I told you to be careful with the mug, Feng Xin!”
The thing is, it wasn’t just any mug. Mu Qing had received it as a gift from his mother a few years before, and it was one of the only physical reminders of her after her passing. He would use it every single day for his tea, simply to have a trace of his mom left in his life.
And now there it was, broken into pieces on the floor, all because of Feng Xin’s carelessness. The rational part of Mu Qing knew it was an accident, that he shouldn’t get too mad over it. But, simultaneously, he could feel the spark of irritation igniting something crude in his chest.
Mu Qing told himself he’d try to be calm, to not scream at Feng Xin, but before he knew it they were already yelling at each other, the fight having escalated beyond just the mug.
And so, while the fighting began with “it’s not my fault you put it right on the edge of the counter!”
“It wasn’t on the edge! You’re just always so inattentive!”
“I said I was sorry! I can’t do anything else!”
It quickly took a turn for the worse when Mu Qing screamed out “why can’t you fucking try, at least for once, Feng Xin?” and from the look of indignation that crossed Feng Xin’s face, Mu Qing knew that one hurt.
“You think I don’t fucking try? You think it’s so easy to live with you, that I don’t have to approach you every single day like you’re a wild animal that will lash out on me?”
The last sentence made Mu Qing flinch like he had been slapped, staring at Feng Xin with wide eyes, refusing to believe what he had just heard. Was living with him really so terrible? Was Feng Xin finally getting tired of him?
“You’re fucking unbelievable” was the last thing Feng Xin had said through clenched teeth before he quickly grabbed his jacket and left, while Mu Qing still stood in the kitchen, his body trembling and tears beginning to blur his vision.
So, Mu Qing finds himself sitting on the cold kitchen floor, knees hugged to his chest and his face buried in his hands, trying desperately not to break down as the tears begin sliding down his cheeks.
He doesn’t know how long he stays like this — time seems to freeze in place, and the only sound he can hear is that of his own muffled sobbing.
Mu Qing tries to ignore the noticeable absence in their shared space, the emptiness and silence that have engulfed the apartment now that Feng Xin had left.
He thinks about his childhood, his mum holding him when he would cry and tucking him safely into bed, and how that memory brings him both solace and pain. About Feng Xin, who uses every chance he gets to show his affection towards Mu Qing through hugs, kisses and soft words. Well, unless they fight and eventually have to pick up the broken pieces of themselves.
Their fights are nothing new, really. They argue on a daily basis, about less and more important things. But at the end of the day, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how angry at each other they become, they will always fall back into each other’s embrace. It turns out forgiveness is easier when you desperately want to keep somebody in your life.
Normally, even if Feng Xin goes outside to blow off steam instead of continuing to fight with Mu Qing, he’ll come back within an hour or so with an apologetic look on his face, hugging Mu Qing as soon as he steps into the apartment. But not this time — and that’s beginning to deeply unsettle Mu Qing to his very core.
Finally, he decides to put his pride aside and calls Feng Xin’s number. The screen with “Feng (Mr. I forgot to take out the trash again) Xin” illuminates Mu Qing’s face as he waits impatiently, counting the seconds, hoping to hear Feng Xin’s voice. There is only silence on the other end of the line.
He looks at the time — 8:46 pm. Feng Xin had left around 7 pm.
Mu Qing finds himself unable to shake the thought that something terrible has happened to Feng Xin, or that — even worse — Feng Xin is not planning to come back tonight, or at all.
After a few more minutes and a fresh dose of overthinking, Mu Qing realizes he can’t keep sitting on the floor and sobbing quietly into his hands. He gets up from his spot and begins doing chores around the apartment — firstly, he picks up the pieces of his mug and throws them away with a heavy heart. What once served as a reminder of his mother is now only the source of a painful memory. There’s no point in keeping something that can no longer be used, he figures.
Then, he vacuums all floors and does the dishes. It helps calm his nerves, if only for a short while.
Nevertheless, Mu Qing glances at his phone screen time and time again, hoping it’ll light up with a call — or at least a message — from Feng Xin, but it remains black. No matter how much Mu Qing tries, it’s impossible to make Feng Xin return with the power of his mind alone. He can feel himself slowly spiral into uncontrollable panic, a feeling he knows all too well after years of chronic overthinking.
It’s really not as serious as his mind is making it out to be, for fuck’s sake! Feng Xin is probably just overwhelmed and he’ll show up once he calms down from their fight, Mu Qing tells himself. He has to come back. He wouldn’t leave Mu Qing for good… right?
Sure, they argue quite often. Mu Qing is more than aware that it isn’t easy to live with him, to handle his attitude, and he is beyond grateful that Feng Xin is willing to try. Every single day spent by Feng Xin’s side makes it just a little bit easier to open up, to trust that perhaps what they have — their relationship, their love — can last forever, or at least as long as humanly possible. Mu Qing has unspeakable amounts of faith in them and their ability to always work things out in the end. He knows Feng Xin does, too. He’s heard it spoken in a gentle, reassuring tone plenty of times.
And yet, he can’t help but worry; can’t ignore the terrible, sickening thoughts and doubts in his head.
As the time passes, so does the anger that had settled in Mu Qing’s heart during the fight. He’s still mad at Feng Xin for breaking the mug, and hurting his feelings as a result, but mostly he just wants Feng Xin back, right here in his arms. He wants to apologize wholeheartedly — and hear an apology back — for his cruel, impulsive words, his inability to hear Feng Xin out; for letting the argument escalate, despite knowing it’ll end badly for both of them. He promises himself that he’ll try to be more patient moving forward, if only Feng Xin will give him the chance to.
Besides Feng Xin, there’s one more person that Mu Qing turns to when he needs emotional support — Xie Lian, his best friend, the person he can always confide in. He hesitates a little before making the call, though. What if Xie Lian is busy with that unspeakably irritating boyfriend of his? What if he’ll be annoyed that Mu Qing is calling him quite late, about a matter they’ve discussed many times before?
Though, Mu Qing knows that if he doesn’t get to vent about his feelings now, he’ll work himself up to something even worse, and that’s what persuades him to call Xie Lian in the end.
“Hello?” a familiar voice answers after a few seconds, as Mu Qing begins pacing back and forth around the apartment.
“Are you busy?” is the first thing he says, still anxious that he’s somehow interrupting Xie Lian.
“Oh, no, don’t worry!” Xie Lian assures him, his voice as warm and enthusiastic as ever.
Mu Qing hears a “tell him you are,” spoken in a hushed voice.
He rolls his eyes. Hua Cheng would stop anyone from ever bothering Xie Lian if he could.
“Shhh, San Lang!”
“Wait a second," Xie Lian says. What follows is sounds of footsteps and a door sliding open. He guesses Xie Lian had gone out onto the balcony, just to get a little bit of privacy. Truth be told, Mu Qing is grateful that Hua Cheng can’t listen in on their conversation. Xie Lian’s very full of himself, very annoying boyfriend would probably just make fun of Mu Qing the entire time.
“Oh, it’s raining!” Xie Lian suddenly exclaims, causing Mu Qing to furrow his brows. He really hopes Feng Xin isn’t walking around — or even worse, stranded somewhere — without an umbrella in this weather. Dealing with an upset Feng Xin is one thing, but an upset and sick Feng Xin is a whole different challenge entirely.
“So, what happened? Did you and Feng Xin have a fight again?” Xie Lian asks in a concerned tone — he really knows Mu Qing too well. Mu Qing isn’t sure how he feels about that.
“We did,” Mu Qing replies in a strained, quiet voice that he absolutely hates himself for.
“We were just lounging at home when Feng Xin knocked my mug off the counter by accident — the one I got from my mother, you know which one.” He may not be able to see Xie Lian right now, but Mu Qing simply knows he’s nodding. They’ve been friends since they were kids, after all, and Xie Lian has been let in on a lot of details about Mu Qing’s life over the years.
After a few seconds of gathering his thoughts, Mu Qing continues speaking. “I just remember feeling so angry in that moment and I.. I really didn’t mean to lose my cool, but suddenly I was screaming at him, and he was screaming back at me and-“ he pauses to take a deep breath.
“-he said how hard it is to deal with me before he left the apartment, and I wanted to tell him I know that, I’ve always known,” Mu Qing whispers, his eyes already watering at the recollection of the fight.
“I don’t think it was unreasonable for you to be upset,” Xie Lian starts. “Feng Xin didn’t mean to do anything bad, but he broke something you cherished deeply, and that would make anyone sad, or even angry. And what he said to you was absolutely shitty, okay? Try not to take it to heart because it isn’t true-“
“He hasn’t come back, I can’t contact him either, and… I’m so fucking worried, Xie Lian. He wouldn’t leave me, right?” Mu Qing interrupts, his voice barely above a whisper. Xie Lian falls silent.
“What makes you think he would?”
“We just… sometimes get so angry at each other, and before I know it we’re shouting at the top of our lungs, and then Feng Xin leaves and I start doubting everything I said. It makes me feel absolutely terrible and like I’m the worst person on the planet and-“
“Mu Qing. Hey, Mu Qing!”
Only then does he realize that he had started rambling, the unease and overthinking getting the best of him again.
Upon hearing that Mu Qing has calmed down a little from his panic, Xie Lian continues speaking. “First of all, no, he wouldn’t leave you. You know how Feng Xin is, don’t you? Loyal to a fault, faithful and devoted. And I can say with absolute certainty that he loves you, Mu Qing, and everyone around you two can see it.” Mu Qing’s lips curve up a little in a smile.
“Second of all, he will come back. Maybe his phone died, or he got caught in the rain, or he stumbled upon a family of ducks and he’s currently helping them safely cross the road,” Mu Qing lets out an involuntary giggle at that.
“Have some faith in him, okay? I’m sure he’ll return soon, and then you can reconcile with him. It’s all going to be fine.”
Mu Qing lets out a staggered breath. Xie Lian is right — Feng Xin will come back, sooner or later. He has to. Mu Qing won’t allow himself to think otherwise, not anymore.
“And perhaps you guys could try not yelling at each other the next time a conflict arises?” Xie Lian suggests gently.
Yeah, Mu Qing thinks they definitely need to work on that.
“Thank you, Lian Lian.” Xie Lian chuckles at the nickname.
“Any time, A’Qing. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need help or some words of encouragement again.”
His heart feels just a little less heavy, like it always does after a heartfelt conversation with Xie Lian.
When the clock strikes 10pm, Mu Qing makes one last, failed attempt to get in contact with Feng Xin. When he is — much to his distress — once again greeted with silence, he comes to terms with the fact that he’ll probably sleep alone tonight.
Mu Qing decides to take a shower, the warm water calming his nerves a little as it washes over his body. He takes Feng Xin’s shower gel — chocolate and vanilla scented — and squeezes some out onto his hand.
He hopes Feng Xin wouldn’t really mind. After all, Mu Qing is the one who usually gets mad if his things are used without permission. He regrets that now, though. He regrets every single time he has ever gotten mad at Feng Xin; every time that his actions ultimately led to another fight, even if he was justified in his anger.
After he’s done with his shower, he goes to bed and pulls the covers up over his head. It feels so cold, so lonely without Feng Xin to hold him. Mu Qing has gotten used to Feng Xin hugging him closely to his chest, carding his fingers through his hair and giving him goodnight kisses. It’s always helped Mu Qing fall asleep faster, and his once persistent nightmares have subsided drastically since they moved in together.
Mu Qing comes to the realization that he doesn’t want to fall asleep alone. He misses Feng Xin more than he’s willing to admit — both out loud and to himself — but he still has hope that Feng Xin will return soon. Feng Xin might be impulsive and hotheaded, but he’s also loyal to a fault — just like Xie Lian had said earlier — and he simply wouldn’t leave Mu Qing in the dark if he wasn’t forced to.
Mu Qing is more than certain of that, even if his mind unrelentingly tries to convince him otherwise.
He slowly drifts off to sleep when he hears the turn of a key in their front door. His half-conscious mind is pretty sure he just made the sound up in a last, desperate attempt to imagine Feng Xin coming back, but he quickly gets up and walks into the hallway nevertheless.
Mu Qing is greeted with a sight that makes his heart clench painfully in his chest. Feng Xin is standing in the hallway and shivering slightly; his clothes soaked with water, wet hair sticking to his forehead. And… is that a gift bag in his hand? He almost jumps when he sees Mu Qing emerge from their bedroom.
“Where the hell have you been?!” Mu Qing’s tone comes out much harsher than he had intended, and Feng Xin flinches slightly upon hearing the words.
Calm down, Mu Qing tells himself. He didn’t spend literal hours worrying about Feng Xin only to drive him away again with his attitude.
Feng Xin looks at him for a few seconds, as if deciding what the best course of action would be, before he finally speaks.
“Mu Qing… fuck, how long was I gone for? I went into the city center, and I meant to call you, I really did, but then my phone died and it started raining and I- I was searching for-”
he gestures at the bag he’s still holding in the other hand “-and before I knew it, it was already dark outside and the buses were running less frequently, so it took me a while to get home,” he finishes explaining, visibly nervous to meet Mu Qing’s gaze.
Mu Qing crosses his arms over his chest.
“What’s in the bag?” He really, really wants to know what was so important that Feng Xin spent over 3 hours trying to find it.
Feng Xin sucks in a sharp breath, his nervousness increasing tenfold.
“Well, I… I broke the mug from your mom, and I know it’s entirely my fault, so I wanted to get you a replacement… but they don’t make these anymore, so I couldn’t find the same design anywhere and finally decided on this one instead,” Feng Xin says, handing Mu Qing the gift bag. He notices there’s a cat print on it. Cute.
Something blurs his vision as he pulls a mug out. Feng Xin was right — it isn’t the same. The mug from his mom had been white, with black cats all over it, whereas this one has a print of what appears to be cats of different breeds and it’s a little bigger, too.
“Oh, Qing-er…” Feng Xin whispers, coming up to Mu Qing and slowly, tentatively wrapping his arms around Mu Qing’s body, keeping in mind that Mu Qing is still holding the mug in his trembling hands.
Mu Qing didn’t even realize that he had started crying until he felt the tears sliding down his cheeks. He lets out a wrecked sob, carefully setting the mug down before burying his face in Feng Xin’s chest. His shirt may already be completely soaked with water, but that doesn’t really matter to Mu Qing right now.
He hopes his tears are enough to communicate the storm of emotions that he has been feeling for the past few hours — the incapacitating sadness, worry and regret, as well as the faith that Feng Xin didn’t leave him for good, that he would never do such a thing.
“I was so worried, Feng Xin, but I… I hoped you would come back” Mu Qing whispers, a little ashamed now that Feng Xin is seeing him in such a vulnerable state.
Feng Xin tightens his grip on Mu Qing’s waist. “And I hoped you’d be waiting for me”
Feng Xin pulls away a little, his honey-brown eyes meeting Mu Qing’s tear-filled ones. “I’m so sorry, for everything, my love,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean all those terrible things I said… and I definitely didn’t mean to leave for so long.”
“You’re an idiot,” Mu Qing mutters. “But… I’m sorry too.”
They both know apologizing isn’t an easy thing for Mu Qing to do, and yet, this is something he feels he needs to say.
Mu Qing buries his face in the crook of Feng Xin’s neck, his cheeks flushed and voice muffled as he speaks. “I’m still mad at you over the mug, okay? But I shouldn’t have screamed at you over a mistake, ultimately causing you to leave. So, uh, I’m sorry for that.”
He hesitates for a few seconds. “And in the future, maybe we can resolve any fights without yelling at each other?” Xie Lian was right about this — they should definitely at least try.
Mu Qing feels Feng Xin press his lips to the top of his head, giving him a little kiss. “Of course we can try that, Qing-er. It would be so much better than the fighting.”
Neither of them say anything for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence — Feng Xin continuing to kiss Mu Qing all over his hair, Mu Qing burying his face in Feng Xin’s chest while attempting to stop the small sobs still escaping his lips.
“Why did you even let your phone die? Stupid,” Mu Qing mutters under his breath, finally pulling away from Feng Xin’s embrace, his pajamas wet from having been pressed to Feng Xin’s soaked clothes for the past 15 minutes.
“You know damn well I will forget to charge it if you don’t remind me,” Feng Xin counters, taking his shirt off and heading straight to their bedroom.
He stops abruptly, having realized that Mu Qing is still standing in the hallway. “What? I wanna go to bed, I’m tired.”
Mu Qing raises an eyebrow. “Are you not at least gonna take a shower first? You look like a wet golden retriever”
“You-! You know what? Okay, whatever,” Feng Xin throws his hands up in resignation before he disappears behind the bathroom door.
Feng Xin wraps his arms around Mu Qing’s body from behind, leaving little kisses down his neck. “You smell like… chocolate and vanilla? Did you use my shower gel?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Mu Qing’s cheeks turn red almost immediately. “What?! No! I mean, maybe? Maybe I missed you and I wanted to use something that would remind me of you?”
Mu Qing turns around and oh, great heavens, Feng Xin’s eyes shine with something that looks dangerously close to tears.
So, Mu Qing does the only thing he can think of to stop Feng Xin from crying right then and there — he presses his lips to Feng Xin’s, feeling how chapped they are, compared to his own. Feng Xin hums into the kiss, his fingers digging into Mu Qing’s hips while he gently guides him to the bed, not once stopping the kiss.
He’s on top of Mu Qing now, stroking his sides as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into Mu Qing’s mouth.
Feng Xin pulls away just to stare at Mu Qing’s body below him — his hair spread out on the pillow, his parted lips, the way his chest rises and falls with every harsh intake of breath.
“I love you, so damn much, Mu Qing,” Feng Xin says earnestly, placing his hand on Mu Qing’s cheek and stroking gently. Mu Qing leans into the touch, snuggling his face into Feng Xin’s palm.
“I love you too,” he whispers, then takes Feng Xin’s hand and interlaces their fingers.
“And, by the way, thank you for the mug. It may not be the same as the one I had, but I love it anyway.” And he means it, he really does.
Feng Xin’s face lights up with a smile — the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes his teeth show.
Mu Qing isn’t going to fall asleep alone tonight, after all. Feng Xin is right next to him, holding him close, like he might slip away from his grasp at any moment. He’s playing with Mu Qing’s long hair — the way he always does — wrapping it around his finger, braiding and twisting it gingerly. The intimacy makes Mu Qing feel safe, in a way he cannot even begin to explain.
Mu Qing’s leg is hooked over Feng Xin’s body, one of his hands resting on Feng Xin’s waist. Mu Qing planting quick, small kisses on his chest, collarbones and neck with utmost gentleness; trying to show how much he loves Feng Xin, how much he cares.
When they wake up tomorrow, perhaps they’ll talk everything out some more and attempt to understand each other’s point of view better. They have a lot of time for that, and more than enough willingness to try.
But right now, what matters the most to Mu Qing is that Feng Xin has returned safe and sound, and he will hold Mu Qing through the night.