Work Text:
Mu Qing held himself high above others, he walked with grace, an air of pride surrounded him regardless of where he went. Of course that was all bullshit- but what did it matter? If he didn’t hold himself this way people would view him as just a simple servant. A peasant who was favored by the prince and used that favor to ascend. He had to pretend, for his image- nothing more.
He needed to be able to convince himself he deserved his Heavenly status. No. He just needed to be able to prove to others he deserved it, his own feeling and thick stone walls that he built and buried inside himself played no part in how he carried himself. It’s not as if he needed anyone but himself either way, he had managed this long anyways.
He didn’t speak to other officials unless necessary. He didn’t do more or less than what was exactly needed of him in the Heavens. He observed other officials but never went to gatherings, never truly interacted unless it was an arguement. He couldn’t help it though.
Arguing with Feng Xin had accidentally become routine over the centuries he’d been alive. Feng Xin was the only constant factor in Mu Qing’s life, lest you count the trail of insecurity and self hatred that followed his every step. Yet even with arguing being second nature that didn’t make it hurt less.
Mu Qing found himself currently hurrying back to his palace after a particularly nasty mission in the mortal realm. His robes were disheveled, torn on places where he’d been slashed by a ghosts sword. His hair was barely kept up by a loosening ribbon and his ornate guan was no where in sight. To say it politely he looked quite beaten down.
Despite all his hurrying the very man he was intent on avoiding made his way into Mu Qing’s line of sight. Mu Qing’s steps faltered, if he really wanted to he could simply just descend back to the mortal realm, it would save him time and a few decades of insults about his current appearance. However the other god would surely catch on to the fact that Mu Qing was running away, and in the worse case follow him. So Mu Qing resumed his pace attempting a to walk around the ever approaching shit show interaction.
“Mu Qing! Did you knock out my palace wall?! I didn’t even do anything!” Feng Xin’s complaints were loud enough to draw the attention of other officials who stopped to see what was going on.
Mu Qing cursed his terrible luck and with as much elegance as he could force curtly responded to Feng Xin. “I didn’t touch your palace Nan Yang, I have been in the mortal realm for almost a week. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a long and boring report to write.”
Mu Qing went around the other holding tightly on to his slashed robes before his arm was caught by Feng Xin. The surrounding gods scattered having an idea of where this was going. Mu Qing however inwardly cursed trying to reel his hand back to himself.
“Are you ok?” The tone that Feng Xin had switched to was not unnoticed by Mu Qing, it made his heart ache.
“Feng Xin, let go of me.” Mu Qing refused to acknowledge the concern that seeped its way into Feng Xin’s voice.
Feng Xin cared for people, that wasn’t news. Although the two fought Mu Qing was aware of the other’s inability to truly wish ill intent towards him. However he refused to allow himself any false hope that this meant that Mu Qing truly meant something to Feng Xin. After all, Mu Qing was a poor servant, and Feng Xin was the prince’s bodyguard. Feng Xin reminded him all the time.
Mu Qing didn’t dare meet Feng Xin’s gaze, though he could feel it boring holes in the side of his head. “You’re bleeding.”
Mu Qing tried his best not laugh, it was clear he was bleeding from the red that dyed his normally blue and tan robes, however Feng Xin wasn’t the one who would be doing anything about it. “I’m simply low on energy, now let go.”
Mu Qing refused to bend to Feng Xin’s will, to whatever twisted game he was playing by tugging on Mu Qing’s heartstrings with his feign concern. Though he knew that if Feng Xin tried to sense his spiritual energy he’d find nothing wrong. Mu Qing would never admit he allowed himself to heal from nonfatal wounds naturally- as if it was his punishment for being unfit for his position.
Feng Xin seemed to consider Mu Qing’s response before beginning to pull the other with him towards the Nan Yang Palace. Mu Qing was taken aback and wrenched his arm attempting to free himself. Whatever game they were playing he was done with.
“Feng Xin!” Mu Qing could hear the way he hissed the name in pain from the much too quick pace he was being dragged. “Let go of me before I launch you through your shitty palaces’ wall!”
Feng Xin didn’t answer though he pulled Mu Qing up the steps and through the front gates of his palace. The deputies instantly scrambled away until Feng Xin stopped one whispering to them, and then continuing his dragging of Mu Qing. Finally Mu Qing was released after being taken into a rather large chamber with a lavish bed, dressers and a desk.
It dawned on Mu Qing that he was now in Feng Xin’s private chambers. “What the fuck was that for!?”
“You’re clearly not going to treat your wound, so I’m going to.” Feng Xin grabbed a kit from his dresser before ushering Mu Qing to sit on his bed.
Mu Qing didn’t know how to respond but he had to attempt to save face. “I am more than capable of treating my wounds on my own. So I’m leaving.”
As Mu Qing made his way back to the chamber door Feng Xin stood and blocked the exit with his body. “Sit down and let me help you.”
“You don’t actually want to help me! You just want me in your debt! To have a new rumor to spread about me to the rest of Heaven!” Mu Qing felt his face become hot with rage just thinking about having to owe Feng Xin.
“Mu Qing I don’t want shit from you, now sit down so that I can help you.” Feng Xin gently pushed Mu Qing back so he fell into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
“Just stop, I don’t need pity from you or whatever this is. Let me leave.” Feng Xin only shook his head in response and opened the aid kit he had grabbed.
“You always assume the worst Mu Qing. Why is it so hard to believe I don’t want you to let yourself suffer? Do you really think I hate you that much?” Feng Xin had gently pulled the others out robe down so it pooled by Mu Qing’s waist.
Mu Qing couldn’t speak. He didn’t know how to answer, he didn’t have some retort, an insult ready to hurl as the other as a means of defense against the uncomfortable intimacy. He only stared at Feng Xin’s hand as his robes were pushed down to his waste to expose the deep gash in his side. He felt as if he would vomit with the way his thoughts swam around in circles.
After accepting that Mu Qing would no longer speak to him Feng Xin resorted to silence as well. He gently cleaned the wound off with wet rags and applied some healing balm to the area before wrapping it tightly in bandages. One he finished he pulled Mu Qing’s outer robe up over his shoulder, the lack of fighting wasn’t unwelcome however it was far from natural.
When Feng Xin looked up at Mu Qing’s face he saw faint lines of tears the steamed down either side of his face. Mu Qing never had anyone take care of him, no one had done anything like this for him since, since his mother. Mu Qing wasn’t aware of the tears that fell, but he felt the arms that wrapped around him. That pulled him back out of whatever trance he’d accidentally put himself in, in order to ignore the emotions that ravaged through him like a tidal wave trying to knock down his walls.
Feng Xin didn’t mind, he’d known the reason the other didn’t heal his wounds. Why he allowed himself to suffer despite not deserving it. He also knew that he probably hadn’t felt what it was like for someone to care in a while. (Not that he truly would’ve let himself feel it if someone had.) So Feng Xin hugged Mu Qing tightly and whispered small comforting words to him to calm him. He would make sure Mu Qing never felt undeserving again, he deserved all the love Feng Xin had to give anyway.