Work Text:
The weather was hot.
These days, the afternoon was always hot while Mu Qing waited for his mother to finish with the students' work, sitting under the acerola tree in the schoolyard, and today he spent his time lying on the bench, watching from afar (never up close,what if they called him) the soccer game that some of his classmates, including Xie Lian, his best friend, and Feng Xin, played every week.
He idly watched the boys running back and forth after the ball, excited and sweating, each trying to make a “cooler” move when Feng Xin managed to score a goal. He watched him cheer and run, hugging his friends in that over-the-top, stupid way Feng Xin liked to do everything.
Here, from afar, where he couldn't be seen, Mu Qing smiled seeing Feng Xin's smile, and rolled his eyes, thinking about the exaggeration of the whole thing.
Wow. It was really hot that afternoon.
Mu Qing felt his face heat up and sighed, feeling the alarming and different heat as the game resumed its pace, far away. He drank the water he had brought with him, splashed some on his face - it relieved, but did not solve the sensation. Now the heat was on his shoulders as well. Was he feeling sick?
He went to the bathroom to try to cool down a little more, but when he looked in the mirror he understood what was happening. Being suddenly feverish might be better than that.
Because on his cheeks and the base of his neck (and most likely shoulders and chest, if the feeling was worth anything) it spread red spots like blush, a heart-shaped constellation of freckles.
—
The allergy, although not everyone has it, was considered a common reaction, affecting young people between 10 and 18 years old, and it presented itself in a variety of ways, and could be shown in just one place, a large and single reddish mark, or even it spread throughout the entire body, the irritations small, looking like sunburn when viewed from a distance. The need for medication came from cases where skin irritation caused discomfort and/or excessive heat, as well as embarrassment, since what was extraordinary and remarkable about it was its appearance and its supposed cause: the marks, regardless of location and size, resembled hearts like those in a drawing and happened when the individual experienced, even if unrecognized, feelings of intense affection, accompanied by possible desire - symptoms of love.
Romantic dermatitis, or love allergy , as they used to call it.
Which, to Mu Qing, looked absolutely ridiculous. First, what a ridiculous disease. Allergy for being in love, like what even is that. Second, Him? In love with who exactly? Feng Xin? Oh, spare me.
Right, Feng Xin sometime between the 12 years when they first met, and today, had turned into a very handsome guy, with a loud laugh, dimples and sunburnt skin, in addition to the smile that after parting with the braces, he had become perfect and charming. But these are facts. Nothing to do about that.
However, along with all that charm and beauty came a personality that often got on Mu Qing's nerves, and since the beginning of their friendship (friendship?) they had often exchanged insults, some more harmless than others, some more of a joke, but still, insults. And lately Feng Xin seemed even more nervous some days, nothing completely unexpected but Mu Qing was still trying to figure out if there was something different or wrong.
Moreover, they were, despite the insults, friends. And even though Mu Qing was probably a rare case where the allergy didn't represent any romantic feelings, its mere appearance would be enough to ruin an already established mood, they were a trio, a trio of friends, and that couldn't be changed. , especially not in that way - the mere assumption of these feelings would serve to make everything awkward.
Mu Qing hadn't even mentioned - not that he was hiding it - to them, directly, that he was gay yet, you know.
In conclusion, this situation should be controlled and avoided as much as possible.
It was with that thought in mind that Mu Qing was now standing in front of his mirror with a medicine box and a glass of water in his hand. After the incident that afternoon he'd sent his mother a quick text that he'd be back alone and stopped by the pharmacy, covering his face with his school hoodie, trying to get his malaise under control before he got home. Thank the gods the anti-allergic was over-the-counter.
However, between getting home and taking a cold shower, his face had almost returned to normal, as if the distance from the supposed object of affection and the water had helped, which gave him hope that maybe it was just a momentary flare-up. If it were, he wouldn't even mind spending the money, not having to use it would be even better.
He decided to do a test: He closed his eyes and concentrated on the object and when the crisis happened. He thought of Feng Xin's face, the hug he gave the others, how he pulled them up, smiling silly, celebrating the goal scored.
Ah.
Ah, there it is. He opened his eyes when he felt his face and shoulders heat up. There they were, pink as a burn against her fair skin. Took the medicine before going to sleep.
It was 2:40 am when Mu Qing woke up in a cold sweat. His skin was tingling and he was nauseous, and the motion of getting up to go to the bathroom made it worse, culminating in him barely making it to the toilet before flushing out what he'd eaten overnight. The bathroom floor was icy against his skin and he was still shivering slightly, recovering, when he threw up again.
More than an hour and more nausea and tingling later, Mu Qing was accompanied by his mother - now aware of the situation he had stalled talking about - at the nearest hospital, with the doctor on duty commenting that the reaction was most likely caused by the antiallergic.
An allergic reaction. To antiallergic. Incredible.
The next day was spent at home recovering. Alone, Mu Qing considered his options as he looked at Feng Xin's message in the group he shared with him and Xie Lian.
He was the cause of it. Him . What the fuck. And he still had the audacity to send a message “ Do you want me to bring you something? ” as if he was not the cause of all this confusion. Ridiculous.
(Mu Qing replied that he was fine, he just needed to rest. He knew that this anger was unreasonable and that it was actually comical how much nicer Feng Xin was by text, and that he didn't even know anything, how could it be his fault? )
His skin tingled again. I hadn't really stopped and it only would be gone completely when the medicine was fully absorbed, so while thinking of the (supposed) object of affection , the tingling was stronger in the place of the hearts, for now.
Later, after sleepless naps and light meals, now without the tingling and slightly more awake and less irritable, Mu Qing rethought his situation.
It was definite that this was no ordinary momentary crisis, having been proven over and over again in the past 24 hours, but he couldn't take the medicine, which meant he had no way of preventing it from happening. But it was unthinkable that his friends, somebody at school, that Feng Xin see this. It was too humiliating. He had to find a solution.
He decided to test makeup. Usually he avoided wearing it too much at school, not finding it necessary and a silly waste of the product, but times have changed. He sat down in front of the mirror and took the concealer out of the organizer, prepping his skin and applying a slightly more generous layer than he normally would on just one half of his face. Focused on the smile of the object - which apparently had more effect - and watched the marks appear on hsi face. On the bare side, full exposure, on the makeup side you could see that he was blushing but only if you paid close attention did you see a specific shape.
Success. Now it was enough to try to control the situation as much as possible. It would be difficult, but just a few more months until school was over and he could isolate himself a bit. Manageable. Everything under control.
—
Feng Xin noticed when Mu Qing entered the room. He always noticed.
How not to notice when the person you like (and the prettiest he's ever seen) comes into the room?
Even more so than the day before he had been absent because he felt sick. Feng Xin had been worried but Mu Qing had said that everything was fine, so it probably was. Or at least he wouldn't be so welcome, which would also make sense.
Feng Xin had realized that he felt something different towards Mu Qing just a few months ago, during an afternoon like any other, during a school break, like any other. Mu Qing was talking about a new trend of recipes made with potatoes that he had seen on tiktok that he planned to try some on the weekends and Feng Xin suddenly realized that he could listen to him talk about anything, for hours without being bothered. In fact, he loved listening to Mu Qing, looking at him, admiring him. But he was also very good at driving him crazy, and with Feng Xin's temperament it had, ever since they'd known each other, led to some good fights. Also, when Mu Qing got angry sometimes, when it wasn't serious, he would blush. It was always adorable.
But none of that had ever gotten in the way of the two of them, or even the three of them, and despite certain moments, Feng Xin considered him a friend.
The problem was that Feng Xin recently, after understanding his feelings, he didn't handle Mu Qing's direct attention well when it wasn't coupled with reaction, his thoughts becoming confused when the gray eyes and long eyelashes focused him, and then he reverted nervousness to rudeness or stupidity.
It was as if Mu Qing's excessive beauty caused his brain to stop working after the crush switch flipped, causing him to break down.
That's why, when he could, he left the conversation in Xie Lian's hands, so he could just look and listen carefully, without ever being the target and still keep his neurons (all focused on Mu Qing) in full working order.
That afternoon Mu Qing looked fine, and Feng Xin quietly sighed in relief, having been nervous about his sudden absence the day before, and he looked only slightly paler than usual. He listened, as usual, to the beginning of the conversation between him and Xie Lian, trying to get more information.
Apparently that had indeed been what Mu Qing had commented on in the group - something he had eaten had made him sick at dawn and he ended up spending part of the night feeling sick and awake, but that he was fine now, and that they shouldn't worry.
Feng Xin noticed that Mu Qing didn't look at him once while he was talking.
“But it's okay now, isn't it?” he asked, not looking directly.
Mu Qing seemed to hesitate slightly, looking away, which was extremely unusual for him, and it seemed to blush.
“ If I hadn't been, I wouldn't have come.”
—
When Mu Qing entered the room that afternoon, he prayed. He prayed that his trick really worked, that the makeup would cover what his bare skin insisted on showing and that he wouldn't expose himself that way.
And thank all the gods, it worked, because the moment Feng Xin spoke to him, asking anything about how he was doing, Mu Qing felt his face almost burn and he knew they were there, the marks, the red hearts burning your skin, but your friends or anyone else had no reaction.
It worked, my gods, it worked. Mu Qing had never felt such relief and such satisfaction in knowing how to apply makeup.
Now it was just a matter of trying to carry on normally, and trying to avoid direct confrontations with Feng Xin, which honestly, Mu Qing thought, would be a more or less easy task, not the simplest of all, but not the worst, and again, it would just be for a few months, and then he could seclude himself to get better, one way or another.
That's what he thought until his English teacher announced that the last paper before final revisions pre entrance exam, for them to relax a little, it would be recreating and acting out in film format one of three pre-chosen stories, and obviously their group (which included Feng Xin) had received the only romance story of the three.
Jane Eyre.
Mu Qing, who quickly wanted to run away from the role of acting—what a horror it would be this role alone, imagine now in this situation and opposite Feng Xin, from any point of view — he was quickly appointed director, and no one having the courage to contradict, so it stayed.
What he didn't foresee, in his successful attempt to avoid acting in front of the camera, was that he would have to direct — and discuss — with Feng Xin frequently so that everything was finished on time, making her plan to try to maintain peace and a minimum distance before the end of the semester was simply practically unfeasible.
So now, every week, three or more times a week they and found everyone in the group to record a few more parts, correct others and more.
In his adaptation Feng Xin was not the father, but the concerned older brother in the place of absent parents, behind helping his younger sister to pass the year, hiring a colleague from another school who was trying to get an extra income, the colleague, interpreted by Jian Lan, would be, throughout the story, his romantic partner, who would soon discover that Feng Xin had a crazy ex — played by a Xie Lian in women's clothes — who did not accept the breakup and stole his clothes and appeared at his house.
Despite pretending to be casual —which meant arguing every day— every day of recording Mu Qing ended up exhausted. Not only did it take work to clean up this movie mess but he always came home with his face burning and when he wiped off his makeup sometimes the marks seemed to be redder than ever, which made him even doubt if his friends really didn't notice.
Every day, now more clearly than ever, Feng Xin affected him. His closeness when they argued, his laugh when he couldn't bear to record more serious scenes, his awful English accent... Everything was a reason, reason for his heart racing, his face burning, and his finding fault with arguing even more — even if he didn't even think the problem was that serious.
Mu Qing didn't even know anymore if he sought, even unconsciously (is it still unconsciously when you start to suspect?), simply to have the other's attention on him, even though it caused him so much... things. Anger? Satisfaction? Embarrassment? Nervousness? Happiness?
What mattered was that he wanted — even with all that — for Feng Xin to look at him , pay attention at him . And realizing that looking in the mirror, after another long afternoon of recording, felt like a punch in the gut.
The little hearts, hidden all day under makeup, stared back at him accusingly as his heart pounded loudly in his ears. You only want his attention on you - the voice of the hearts said loudly in his mind - you don't want him looking at anyone else.
Mu Qing didn't know what to think of that. He did not want think about that. All of this was stress that he didn't want to face, that he didn't want to have, but from that day forward it became more and more obvious that it was true, as he looked and said "action" and watched Feng Xin smile at her, speak with her, put your hands on her face.
But he was professional — as much as a 17-year-old could be for a school project — and he wasn't going to let that mess inside his head and deep in his chest get in the way of developing the work and his role as director, so every day he he swallowed it like bitter medicine and moved on, no matter the discomfort or what he realized about himself, what he felt or didn't feel.
This ridiculous play was going to end, Jian Lan and no one else would be between the three of them and he could try even harder to get back to normalcy, or as close as he got to it. Furthermore he would occupy his mind with studies and revisions and proofs in such a way that the formulas and the didactic texts sounded louder than the tum-tum-tum-tum your heart and head boiled more from bills being settled and questions being answered than from stupid allergies.
It wouldn't shake him.
—
Mu Qing was acting strange.
Mu Qing had been acting strange since that day when he was sick, but it had gotten worse since the beginning of the movie.
Ever since they had started recording,Mu Qing, as a director , had been exactly what Feng Xin had expected—bossy, perfectionist, and insistent, always trying to correct where he felt he needed correction, even if it meant clashing with his classmates, taking more seriously than Feng Xin found it particularly necessary. However, despite being annoying, it was, oddly enough, one of the things Feng Xin liked most about the other boy — he was truly dedicated to almost everything, no matter how insignificant it was, at least for him.
However, even Feng Xin had started to find it strange and even irritated, because now, more than before, everything seemed like a reason for them to argue. Sometimes Mu Qing couldn't even explain why he thought the scene was wrong or needed to be improved, only interrupting and ordering it to be repeated over and over again, and obviously, after being irritated, Feng Xin would retort rudely—here it was as much from nervousness as simply from fatigue — and the discussion began, repeating itself almost every day that they got together for recording.
And then one day, it stopped. All of a sudden, Mu Qing seemed to be calmer, more lenient, or, to be honest, more distant. He suddenly avoided getting involved, especially in the scenes with Jian Lan, not intervening more than necessary, in mistakes that were grotesque or too silly to be ignored, and the rest of the time he treated Feng Xin with a certain indifference.
Also, he seemed to be permanently flushed. Feng Xin had thought before that he was sick, after that, that he was imagining things. Now he wondered if Mu Qing was trying out a new makeup that made him blush too much — and he was embarrassed to ask because if that was the case, it would be strange for Feng Xin, who couldn't tell the difference between mascara and eyeliner, to say something.
So he was silent, holding on until it resolved itself, or until he had to do something.
—
It was presentation day and Mu Qing and the rest of the group had done a great job. Excellent, even. Although clearly amateurish, the scenes were beautiful, and the performances convincing enough, even with English not the first language of any of them.
So why, sitting there in the front row with his group, did Mu Qing just want to disappear? Every time he showed a scene showing a more intense exchange of glances between the main couple, with the right light and the right moment and the right angle, he felt anguish. He had made it happen, along with the rest. He had directed that angle, he had even told Jian Lan and Feng Xin to get so close.
So why did he, as soon as the movie ended with the characters almost kissing, make some excuse to the teacher and leave the room almost running? Why did he feel like scratching his skin off, as it was already burning so bad? Why did he feel like crying, screaming, his heart pounding so loud he couldn't hear anyone's voice or the sound of the rain outside?
When he found himself, he was under the acerola tree where this ridiculous thing had started, and he felt the icy water wetting his hot face, streaming with what he knew were tears. His teeth chattered, and he sat up, putting his head between his legs. He needed to breathe. To recover. Soon someone would come after him and he didn't want anyone to see him like this, he had to pull himself together he had to —
“Mu Qing?” The voice interrupted his thoughts, making his face turn towards him quickly “ Did something happen?”
Mu Qing could only stare silently at Feng Xin. The lanky hair, wet from the rain, the wet and worried face looking right at him. Everything. I don't know. Nothing? Mu Qing thought, panicked. I think I fell in love with you. And I don't want that. Because you dont want me and it will ruin everything. I don't want any of this, I don't.
“Mu Qing, are you okay?” Feng Xin moved closer and Mu Qing rubbed his face, trying to wipe away the tears that had started to fall again “Hey, what happened? Tell me… Your face…”
“ No!” Mu Qing covered his face, he had forgotten in his panic and had rubbed his face wet with rain, exposing the worst thing he could show. He had probably undone all the careful layering he did every day, dismantling the barrier between himself and the world, and it had been right in front of Feng Xin. “ And don't look at me!”
He barely recognized his own voice. He barely recognized this moment. So withered, so little, so vulnerable and here he was, ruining everything because the person who was seeing him like this was the only one who definitely shouldn't.
Mu Qing felt Feng Xin's hands on his own, pushing them out of the way, and he honestly didn't have the strength to stop him, but he couldn't look Feng Xin in the eyes, see the understanding on his face when he noticed the popping hearts coloring his skin. He simply couldn't bear to see the embarrassment, so he simply looked down in defeat. For a second, no one moved or said anything, only the sound of the rain, which was already thinning, hitting the leaves of the acerola tree above them.
“Damn. I don't even believe this shit.” Feng Xin said, after a few seconds.
Incredible. Simply unreal. Mu Qing knew that they weren't always kind to each other, but the last few minutes seemed to show that Feng Xin would manage to show the slightest bit of consideration, of empathy. But apparently, it was just an outburst, something extremely momentary, because unlike anyone who, seeing his friend that way, understanding the situation, would have the decency to at least be polite about the matter, and Feng Xin had decided to be a rude and clueless person again and sincerely, you know what maybe he should say all this out loud, fuck Feng Xin and that allergy shit.
Mu Qing raised his face, filled with anger and humiliation, and before he could even say anything he was interrupted.
With a kiss.
It was a quick and messy thing. His face being smashed by hands, and a slap of lips over his. And then it was over and he could see Feng Xin's entire face again, a scared silly look on it.
“My gods. My gods, I'm sorry,” Feng Xin said, sounding panicked, slurring the words, “I just, I don't know. Maybe it's not even me. Oh my gods. I just. I don't know, I had hope for a second and bam!
Meanwhile, Mu Qing felt his face grimace in confusion. He didn't know what to say. He did not know how to speak in fact, it seemed to have lost the ability, opening and closing his mouth while Feng Xin still spoke nothing to nothing. He felt his face heat up even more, probably even more hearts appearing, an unprecedented feat of allergy until then, and it was at that moment thatFeng Xin shut up for a second, only to then blurt out:
“Oh. Look. Now there's more.
“I will kill you,” Mu Qing said, hiding his cheeks with his hands.
“Oh! Now there's more!” He repeated, seeming to have understood something, “Mu Qing! Mu Qing! It is me?
"I swear I'm going to kill you."
“It's me, right, say it's me, say I didn't screw up, say I didn't confess here for nothing!” Feng Xin grabbed Mu Qing's wrists, smiling that smile that Mu Qing liked so much (now there was no reason to deny it anymore).
"Confessed?"
“I kissed you! I like you! But I also did it because you like me so I can! That's it, right?!”
“You like me?”
"Since months ago!"
“But, no hearts… No allergy…”
“Mu Qing, not everyone has the allergy, now tell me. I need you to confirm it to me. It is me?”
Mu Qing looked into his eyes, the object of affection, Feng Xin, and noticed that he was nervous. Happy, hopeful and very, very nervous. He felt his own nervousness mirroring him. He thought about denying it, but what good would that do? What good would that do? It was a lie if he denied it. It would hurt them both for nothing.
Then very slowly, he nodded, confirming, not trusting his own voice.
And then, for the second time, under that acerola tree, Feng Xin kissed him.