Work Text:
Empty wine and beer bottles strewn across the hardwood floor, various shades of glitter above and beneath the coffee table, polaroids wedged under furniture left in disarray, and yet Feng Xin can’t find it in himself to be upset over the wretched condition of their living room.
He watches as Mu Qing carefully tip-toes over several bottles, picking them up as he makes his way to the misaligned couch next to their window. He stares at the movement of his satiny hair, each swish and flick carrying a certain grace that he has since memorized with the frequency of threading his fingers along its length. His gaze then shifts to the red of his nails, a glossy shade of burgundy that accentuates the fairness of his smooth hands and bony wrists. It stands close to the hue of his lips where a delightful display of the residue of his midnight kisses can be seen.
Then, there goes the motion of his mouth. A sneer, Feng Xin observes this time. He peers at the way his upper lip curves upward, forming a gap between the soft plush beneath.
“Care to help?” The quirk of his eyebrow, and the slight wrinkle of his forehead. Feng Xin notices the mole, too, and every curvature that he has studied through the years.
“Mhm. I will, in a sec. The view looks immaculate right now.”
And then the roll of his eyes. Obsidian. The soft, golden sunlight that spills through the window pane leaves his face aglow, and Feng Xin sees how the glint in his gaze speaks of love. That’s Mu Qing, all right. The intemperate lilt of his voice simply dissolves when you just look closer at his delicate bearings.
“Don’t be stupid.” His tone is softer now. Crimson dusts his high cheekbones, and Feng Xin’s lips break into a grin.
In a short while, Feng Xin will reach over the coffee table and pluck the polaroids crammed between crevices–small reminders of newborn memories and long-standing friendships. Glitters will cling to his skin as he sweeps his fingers across the mahogany flooring, collecting drained bottles of alcohol and crumpled food wrappers. He will listen to Mu Qing hum while they clean up the clutter, chuckling from time to time as Feng Xin recalls the liveliness from the night before.
At one point, Feng Xin will say something particularly funny that will have Mu Qing bursting into loud laughter. And even though Feng Xin has heard it multiple times in the long period that they’ve been in each other’s lives, it somehow will still have his world tilt off its axis.
See, it’s all so simple, but it has doubled the mirth in Feng Xin’s chest. It’s New Year’s Day, and here he is with Mu Qing, taken again by his distinct charm and elegance as they clean up together. It’s his only hope that he captures this moment forever, and never becomes a stranger to this rhythm.
Mu Qing’s smile is akin to the sun blossoming on the horizon, and Feng Xin believes that it’s going to be a great year.