Archive of Our Own

“Bow & Arrow, 2pm.” 

Mu Qing bounced his leg anxiously as he triple checked the appointment booking, eyes gliding from the iPad screen over to the parlor's clock.

1:35pm.

Bow and arrow tattoos were common! Just because there was someone who specifically booked an archery related tattoo, asking for him, didn't mean that it was Feng Xin, out of everyone in the city that came to this parlor. Not to mention he was not an uncommon artist! He would never toot his own horn or anything (he would), but he had grown his clientele over the past four years of being at his current parlor, and in turn gaining popularity rapidly. This could be literally anyone ! 

Plus, there’s no way in hell that Feng Xin would book a tattoo with him. He was pretty sure Feng Xin still didn't even like him, despite the fact they lived together as roommates for the past two years. If anything, the archery captain, his longtime rival turned frenemy turned roommate simply tolerated his existence for the sake of split rent. 

Anyone could be coming to him for this very specific tattoo!

He repeated it mentally like a mantra as he cleaned his station for this 2pm mystery appointment that surely would not be Feng Xin. 

If it was his obnoxiously hot roommate that had booked an appointment with him, Feng Xin would have told him that he was planning on booking with him, right!? Surely he would have.

It simply couldn't be Feng Xin. There was no way he could sit there for god knows how long, and tattoo his cru-- Feng Xin ! He couldn't sit there and tattoo…Feng Xin. 

It’s not him. It’s not.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He wants to wipe the shit eating grin off Feng Xin's face when he finds the man seated in the waiting area. Instead though, for the sake of decorum, he sighs and all but stomps over to his roommate with a fire in his eyes.

“ What the fuck do you think you’re doing ?” He hisses at Feng Xin, who simply folds his arms together and smiles up at Mu Qing sweetly. It’s unsettling . It’s a mask for the rest of the customers around them, Mu Qing knows that, but it’s still unsettling.

“What does it look like? I’m getting a tattoo, dumbass.” Feng Xin smiles, shrugging as if he didn't just throw Mu Qing's entire day off its axis. 

“You didn't tell me you were booking with me! You’ve never even mentioned wanting a tattoo!” 

“Perhaps I wanted to surprise you at work…I don’t see why it’s such a big deal, Mu Qing.” Feng Xin feigns a pout, sticking out his bottom lip in the most annoyingly adorable way.

Mu Qing wants to punch him in the face. 

‘Surprise you at work’ Yeah. Okay. What utter bullshit! 

“Why the hell would you supri-fine. Let’s go, get up. I just finished your sketch.” Mu Qing huffs, avoiding the stares of the customers still waiting for their own appointments.

 Xie Lian once said the two of them argued like an old married couple, one who had been together for 50 years and got on each other's ass for every little thing, yet loved each other with their hearts all the same. He had told his friend off after that, going off about how the two of them were nothing but people who were forced into proximity due to their friendship with Xie Lian. 

His rant was cut off though, because the two of them had been watching Feng Xin's archery tournament, and the man himself had just hit a perfect bullseye. The crowd had gone wild, everyone standing and clapping because it had pushed Feng Xin ahead to first place. Even Mu Qing stood and clapped, hiding the pride he felt for his… whatever he was …under an arched eyebrow and impassive expression. 

As Mu Qing storms back to his station, he wonders if the customers waiting for their appointments were thinking the same as Xie Lian once did. 

“Sweet!” Feng Xin stands, following Mu Qing with a skip in his step. 

“I really don’t see why you didn't warn me.” Mu Qing mutters under his breath as he grabs his iPad while he and Feng Xin both take a seat.

“Well sorry, I didn’t know you need a warning to fucking see me, you ass.” 

“If I’m gonna be sitting here tattooing you , I do!” Mu Qing fists tighten at his sides instinctively. He can feel his cheeks turning red, whether it was out of anger, or something else…he refused to think about it.

“Why is it such a big deal?! It’s just a tattoo! You do it all day, everyday!” 

“Yeah but it’s YO --it’s just different! Okay!?” It was entirely different to tattoo a stranger, than it was to tattoo Feng Xin. What did he not understand? Still, it’s not like he could ever find the words within himself to even begin to explain why it was so different, so instead, he drops his iPad to his lap and crosses his arms defensively. 

“I’ve never tattooed any of my…f-friends…” Mu Qing leaned his head back, just to avoid the look of confusion Feng Xin was giving him, a perfect eyebrow raised. 

“Why is it so different? What’s the big deal with tattooing friends?” Feng Xin wonders out loud, and Mu Qing is grateful he didn't make a comment or jab about Mu Qing calling them friends. It sparks a small hopeful fire inside him that he immediately has to smush out in order to keep the smile from growing on his face. Suddenly, Feng Xin gasps, causing Mu Qing to lift his head and face Feng Xin once more.

 “Shit! This isn't an ethics thing right? Like how bank tellers can't help their family or friends with their transactions?! Are you even allowed to tattoo me since we’re friends?”

“Yes, it’s--it’s not that it’s fine. Whatever. You just can’t talk shit during this, or make me mad! Just don’t be stupid because if I fuck up your tattoo I don’t want you going around saying I did it on purpose!” Mu Qing huffs.

“What makes you think I would do something like that! You wound me Qing'er....” Feng Xin holds a hand over his heart, dramatically sighing, to which Mu Qing rolls his eyes and works on bringing up the sketch of Feng Xin's tattoo idea in order to get his approval before printing a stencil.

Mu Qing doesn't dignify Feng Xin's teasing with a response, he was used to his frequent use of the nickname by now, and instead he flips his iPad to face Feng Xin and show his work. “How's this? Is it what you had in mind?” Mu Qing inquired, biting his lower lip anxiously. He had to remind himself again that this was just Feng Xin. 

Sure , he may have been hanging off of the little threads of praise that Feng Xin gave him every once in a while - but that was irrelevant, that had nothing to do with Feng Xin and everything to do with Mu Qing and his need to please, his need for praise.

So what if other people's praise didn't cause his heart to stutter in his chest like Feng Xin's did. So what if their praise did not make him swell with a pride he had not felt since he was young. So fucking what! That was simply because Feng Xin was his rival for so long, once you are praised by your livelong rival - it becomes addicting! That’s all it was!

“Holy shit!! Yeah! That’s perfect!” Feng Xin gasped, reaching out to grab the iPad and hold it closer in order to observe it. Mu Qing let it go willingly, preening from the praise. See? Being praised by your rival was the best feeling in the world. 

“Kay, I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll test it out - you know where you want it, right?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking on my ribs, I kind of want it bigger, take up a good chunk, you know what I mean?” Feng Xin nods, gesturing to the area he wanted it. Mu Qing looks up, quirking up an eyebrow in concern. 

“....Isn’t this your first tattoo?” Mu Qing asked hesitantly, mentally running through all the times he had seen Feng Xin's body unclothed. He knew Feng Xin had no tattoos, he had looked enough - not on purpose! - yet the man was really diving head first into his first being a rib tattoo? He really shouldn't be surprised, he supposed. 

“It sure is! I know that if I don’t do it this time though, I’ll probably chicken out the next time.” Feng Xin assures him, his tone leaving no room for argument. Mu Qing could only nod slowly, reaching out to grab the iPad once more so that he could carry on with printing some different sized stencils.

The two talked absentmindedly as he did so, discussing what they needed from the grocery store - since Feng Xin was going later tonight. It was easy to fall into ‘roommate talk’, which was usually civil conversations about food or rent or necessities, it was when topics changed to things outside of their living arrangement that they started to fall back into their old bickering ways.

Mu Qing loved it, it was familiar, it was safe. He knew how to talk to Feng Xin that way. At the same time though, a more quiet, less dominant part of him that he pushed as far away from his mind and heart as possible, wished the two could just stay the way they were during ‘roommate talk’.  

“Oh, also, Xie Lian said he wants to hang out soon, by the way.” Feng Xin says idly as he watches Mu Qing cut out the newly printed stencil. 

“As long as that fucking husband of his is no where to be seen, I’m there. I have his clothes that needed some stitches anyways.” Mu Qing mutters, heavily focused on trying to sort the different stencil sizes he had printed before placing the scissors down and bracing himself for what was to come. 

“Alright...u-uh…take your shirt off…” He said quietly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He knew his cheeks were flushed, even at the mere mention of Feng Xin taking off his shirt in front of him.

Sure, he lived with Feng Xin, so of course he had seen the archery captain shirtless plenty of times, primarily after the man showered or was waking up in the morning, but still! No matter how much he ( accidently ) stared at the man's tanned and toned chest, the feeling that churned in his stomach each time would never cease.

“Right, right.” If Mu Qing had not been avoiding eye contact, looking off to the side in an attempt to hide his still red cheeks, then he would have seen the way that Feng Xin's cheeks and the tips of his ears also flushed a deep red. 

Feng Xin swiftly removes his shirt, bunching it up and squeezing it in his hands as if it was a stress ball.

“Nervous?” Mu Qing smirks victoriously in order to distract himself from the fact that Feng Xin is shirtless in front of him, and grabs his alcohol wipes and razor to prepare the skin where Feng Xin wants the ink done. 

Mu Qing personally had a handful of tattoos, some he did himself for practice, others he had professionally done for places he was unable to reach. He personally enjoyed the pain of tattoos, it wasn't excruciating save for a couple soft points on his body. It was a different type of pain, an addicting kind. Maybe he should talk to his therapist about that during his next appointment… That being said, he thrived in the fact that this was something he could count on himself being better than Feng Xin at. He could handle tattoo pain better than Feng Xin! Take that, Feng Xin. “Stand up straight for me, I need to get this placed right.”

All competitive thoughts were erased from his mind though once Feng Xin stood up before him. Mu Qing’s face was merely a foot away from Feng Xin's lower stomach, an area he often tried to ignore due to the prominent v-line that often was the cause of Mu Qing's staring. His throat felt dry as he all but stumbled out of his chair to stand up as well, so that he was face to face with Feng Xin...well…more so face to neck, as Feng Xin had unfortunately grown a bit more than him during High School. He missed the days when the two of them were the same height. 

Both men's faces were bright red now, each one of them fully aware of the others, but avoiding eye contact the best they could. It had been a couple years since they had been this physically close to one another, the last time being a sparring match at a dojo they had frequented before it had sadly closed down due to lack of proper funding. Since then, they had always been an appropriate distance from one another, no matter what the activity was. Yet it was only going to get worse once the process started,

Mu Qing wiped his hands on his pants, hoping they weren't as sweaty as he felt they were.

“O-Okay…” Mu Qing squeaked out, cringing at the way his voice cracked. “Did you want it kind of a-around this area?...” He holds the stencil above the spot Feng Xin had mentioned. He could feel a warm breath on his forehead, and willed himself to ignore the butterflies flapping in his stomach. 

Too close. How was he supposed to survive this tattoo session? 

Feng Xin hummed in confirmation, and Mu Qing could hear the distinctive sound of him swallowing. Was he nervous too? After all, this was Mu Qing tattooing him? What if Feng Xin didn't trust him to do it? What if he was nervous Mu Qing would fuck up? What if--

No. Mu Qing wouldn't allow himself to get into his head about this, Feng Xin booked with him for a reason - he may not know the reason, but there was one. Therefore he had to trust Mu Qing at least a little bit.

Time seemed to slow as Mu Qing took the alcohol wipes to Feng Xin's skin, cleaning off the area as quickly as he could, proceeding to swipe his razor up and down the same spot in order to rid it of any body hair. He then gently places the stencil on Feng Xin's side, smoothing it out with the tips of his fingers to make sure the full picture is transferred to the skin.

He ignores the visible goosebumps on the tanned skin beneath his gloved hands, as well as the obvious jump once his fingers trace the outline of the art. 

“Sorry, my hands might be cold, forgot to warn you.” Mu Qing mumbled out, ducking his head to focus on the stencil, trying to save Feng Xin some dignity. He didn't even know if his body temperature was that detectable through the latex gloves he wore.

“Ye-Yeah, they’re cold is all…” Feng Xin stammered out, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. Suddenly, Mu Qing was sure that his body temperature was not detectable, even in the slightest. 

“Alright. How’s that look?” Mu Qing asks warily, once the stencil is fully transferred, waiting for inevitable insults and judgment to spew from Feng Xin's typically foul mouth. Afterall, he already got some of Feng Xin's praise for the day, he couldn't possibly expect it a second time. 

He takes a couple steps back so that it was primarily Feng Xin standing in front of the mirror that was laid against the wall, so that he had the full view of where the ink would be.

“Oh shit!!!” 

See? Here it comes. 

“Holy shit! That’s exactly what I had in mind! The sizing is perfect! Right where I wanted it! Damn. I guess I understand why you’re as popular an artist as you are.” Feng Xin laughed, admiring the look of Mu Qing's stencil on his side.

Oh. That was unexpected. 

Mu Qing stared in shock as Feng Xin continued to spin around and look at the stencil. He had not expected another compliment from the other. If anything, he expected the other to insult the size, complain that it wasn't just right, it was slanted too much, it was too small, anything that would have made Mu Qing need to restart the stencil and second guess his highly trained eye and expertise. 

A smile wants to make its way to Mu Qing's lips, but instead he bites out;

“Good. I’m not fucking redoing it.” 

Feng Xin seemingly doesn't take it to heart though, which is very much unlike his usual reaction, and instead he turns towards Mu Qing and playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Kay, lay down, let’s get this over with.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

For someone who had never gotten a tattoo before, Feng Xin was doing quite well, all things considered. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brow furrowed, and a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead, sure. Yet he had not squirmed once, nor had he complained about the pain. Mu Qing couldn't lie, he was quite impressed. 

He could feel the speed at which Feng Xin's heart raced, as one of his hands were laying flat over Feng Xin's pec in order to steady himself, as well as prepare to push Feng Xin down if twitched at all. The two of them were nearly sharing each other's air with how close they were. 

Mu Qing suddenly became horribly aware of how close it actually was, how his hands were technically touching Feng Xin's bare chest, even if they were blocked from his gloves. It all became too much all at once, so he abruptly sat up in order to fill the needle with more ink, needing to be out of Feng Xin's bubble and away from the man's cologne - which smelled of mahogany teakwood and pine. 

He stole a glance at the man, who had not moved a muscle, even when Mu Qing pulled away from him, not even opening his eyes. He felt a tinge of guilt rush through him, after all, they had been at this for over an hour now, and Feng Xin wasn't giving him a single issue. The least he could do is let his obnoxious roommate drink some water, go to the bathroom, or just take a breather. 

“Do you want a break?” The question tumbles from his lips before he can even finish thinking the thought. Feng Xin's eyes blink openly slowly, moving his neck around in order to relieve it of some of the stiffness. Once he was able to fully process Mu Qing's question, he nodded slightly. 

“I’m allowed to?” He asks as he slowly sits up, cringing at the feeling of the tender skin on his ribs. 

“Of course it’s allowed, I’m not cruel enough to make you sit through a solid 2 more hours of not moving or drinking water or anything like that.” Mu Qing rolls his eyes. “You always think so poorly of me.” 

“Be so fucking for real, Mu Qing. Is that what I fucking said?” Feng Xin sighs, rolling his eyes in a very Mu Qing like manner. 

“No, but--”  

“But literally nothing ! I didn't say anything against you, nor did I imply anything! I just asked because I’ve never done this before and I was unsure if there was some rule against it!” Feng Xin huffs out, resembling a child with the way he was pouting.

“Well there isn't. You can tell me whenever you want to take a break. I only offered because you seemed to be in pain and I pitied you.” 

“Uhm! I was not!” Feng Xin scoffs, going to cross his arms but cringing away from it when the new outline of the tattoo stretches a certain way with his movements. 

“Uh huh…” Mu Qing laughs knowingly, everyone new to the world of tattooing was the same. 

Feng Xin stares at him for a moment with surprised wide eyes and pink ears before stuttering out a quick “I-I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back” and standing up suddenly.

“You’re gonna walk around the parlor….shirtless?” Mu Qing teased, not really caring too much, save for the fact he knew there would be a handful of wandering eyes stuck on the man before him. He was Feng Xin's roommate, he already saw Feng Xin like this, but they were all strangers! Why should they be given the same right that he was granted?

“O-Oh! Right…uh….can I put it on? Or….” Feng Xin gestures to his shirt, looking much like a confused little puppy. 

Mu Qing’s heart clenched in his chest momentarily. Stupid heart. Stupid feelings.

It’s just Feng Xin. He reminds himself for the millionth time that day. 

“Ah, well, no. I don’t want fibers or germs from your shirts fabric getting close to the tattoo…it does count as an open wound, you know?” Feng Xin only shrugged in response, because he honestly didn't know that.

“Fucking--here.” Mu Qing averts his eyes as he shoves the oversized zip up hoodie he sometimes wears in the parlor during the winter months towards Feng Xin. “Just make sure that side doesn't touch the sweater, keep it lifted above it…” 

Feng Xin hesitantly takes it from him, and next thing Mu Qing knows, the other is gone, padding quickly down the hall to the restrooms. Once he hears the bathroom door close, he sits up and leans back, taking a deep breath in.

“What the fuck.” He groans out, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping the ground would open up below him so he would never need to resume the tattooing.

Tattooing his hot roommate that he may or may not have had a longtime crush on - a crush that he mentally refused to admit he had, mind you - was not on his to do list today. The constant fear that he would mess up Feng Xins tattoo and cause the man to truly hate him for all eternity was weighing heavily on his mind, despite the fact that he knew he was quite skilled.

He was lost in his thoughts when he heard a cough coming from the door. Feng Xin had returned, and was looking at him with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“What?”

Feng Xin bites his lip, Mu Qing tries his best to not focus on it though.

“You seem…..I don’t know…you’re off.” Feng Xin finally answers, shifting his weight to his other leg, still holding Mu Qing's hoodie away from his new half-done tattoo.

“I’m fine. Are you ready to continue?” Mu Qing gestures to his bench.

He was fine, because this was no big deal! 

“Can we….can we talk this time around. I think I got too in my head the last time, focused on the pain a bit too much.” Feng Xin sounded embarrassed, it wasn't often that Mu Qing had heard him sound like that. Nonetheless, he still raises an eyebrow in question. Feng Xin wanted to willingly converse with him?

Mu Qing opens his mouth to bite out the very question, as either of them typically would, but clamps his lips shut at the last second. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks instead, after Feng Xin was seemingly comfortable and he was able to start the tattooing process once more, placing his palm on Feng Xin's chest, and connecting the needle to skin.

He nearly winces when Feng Xin has a minor flinch.

“I-I’m not sure. Anything? How was your day?” Feng Xin rasps out, clearly trying to not let the pain show in his voice. Mu Qing could hear it though. He did this for a living, and knew Feng Xin for nearly his entire lifetime. Did the dumbass really think that Mu Qing wouldn't catch on?

Though once again, unlike his typical manner, he doesn't say the thoughts he was thinking. Instead, he chuckles out “You never ask me about my day, since when do you care?”

Feng Xin's eyes open at that, and Mu Qing can feel the glare that burns into his forehead, despite the fact he does not look up to meet the others' eyes. 

“I’ve always cared, you asshole.” 

Mu Qing scoffs. 

“What? You don't believe me?”

“Why are you doing this now? Why are you trying to fight me and argue with me when I have the full ability to fuck up a tattoo that will be on you forever?” Mu Qing wonders, not lifting his eyes from his work even once.

Granted, he would never do that. Never on purpose to a single one of his clients, but especially not Feng Xin. They may bicker, they may fight, they may get on each others nerves every second of the day, but that was a line he would never cross no matter the person. 

“I’m not trying to fight! Unlike you, I actually hate fighting with you! Plus, I’m only saying it because I know you wouldn't do that, even if you want me to think that you would. In fact I think you care too.”

“Obviously I care about my work, it’s my work.”

“Well, obviously about your work…but I mean I think you also care about me.” Feng Xin states very matter of factly, as if he’s got it all figured out.

Which…to be fair, he does, but Mu Qing would rather explode on the spot than confirm that to his stupidly pretty face.

“Crazy. It’s almost like you can see right through me.” Mu Qing says in the most sarcastic and deadpanned voice he could muster up. Feng Xin huffs, and goes silent for a few moments before sighing out; 

“You can be such an ass sometimes, you know that?” 

Mu Qing did know that. Yet being an ass for mental and emotional protection felt much better than being rejected in any way, shape or form.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The two had gone silent after that, except for Feng Xin asking if Mu Qing could put on music. Sick of the silence too, Mu Qing obliged.

Another hour in, Mu Qing truly thought Feng Xin had fallen asleep. His eyes were closed peacefully, rather than squeezed shut like they were beforehand, nor was he speaking or moving. If he did doze off, Mu Qing would be more impressed than he would like to admit, because that meant that Feng Xin got over the pain in the same way that Mu Qing had with his own tattoos. 

Yet his assumption was proven wrong once he traced the needle over a rib for the first time in what seemed like hours. 

“That fucking hurt…” Feng Xin hissed out, his eyes snapping open.

“Big shocker there.”

Mu Qing can once again feel the glare from Feng Xin on his forehead, but he doesn't look up from his work once. 

“Why do you do this, Mu Qing?…” Feng Xin suddenly asks, voice octaves quieter than usual, his tone….sad.

Mu Qing pauses, lifting the needle from Feng Xin's skin so that he can look up at the other man. 

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Why do you always want to fight? It feels like we’re never gonna get past this sometimes. I really thought…” Feng Xin trails off, sighing.

“You thought what?” Mu Qing bites out, defenses immediately going up. He didn't always want to fight with Feng Xin! But--it was how they were! It’s how they always had been and how they always would be! It was how they operated as a pair. Simple as that. This was the only way he could continue to interact with the man, because he was positive that if he didn’t, he and Feng Xin would never speak...not even about groceries. 

“I just thought that coming here…I-I…nevermind it’s fucking stupid, just finish up so I can pay and leave, I guess.” 

Mu Qing doesn’t continue, nor does he respond, because he knows Feng Xin and knows that any moment now, despite what he said, Feng Xin is going to burst with what he was going to s- “I just thought that if I booked with you, it would be fun! We could h-hang out! You would be more chill, doing something you love doing, and I would finally get my first tattoo! Win-Win!” 

The outburst was expected, but the contents of it had not been. 

“Feng Xin. We live together.” 

“And? We don't hang out there! We just exist in each other's space! Sure, sometimes we watch movies at the same time! But…it’s not the same! I just…I thought it could be fun…Whatever. Forget I said anything.” 

Feng Xin once again had the expression of a puppy kicked to the side of a curb, and Mu Qing's heart clenched. Feng Xin really…wanted to hang out with him?

“Of course I do! I happen to like your company!” Feng Xin hisses suddenly, and Mu Qing flushes. He had not realized he had asked that out loud.

Feng Xin’s words then process in his head, and he meets the man's eyes once more.

“U..Uh….” Feng Xin stutters out, once he catches sight of Mu Qing's expression, clearly not truly meaning to say his own internal thoughts out loud either. 

They both fall silent, and Mu Qing resumes tattooing. It’s awkward, but only in the matter where it’s obvious they both want to speak.

Feng Xin….wanted to hang out with him. He booked his first tattoo appointment with Mu Qing - which meant he trusted him, wanted him to do his tattoo - just to hang out…because he thought Mu Qing would be more chill? More comfortable? 

He enjoyed Mu Qing's company? 

Mu Qing looked up at Feng Xin's face. It was flushed a deep red, and his eyes were looking anywhere but at Mu Qing.

“Hey, Feng Xin?”

Feng Xin looks down at Mu Qing, who continues to tattoo as if his life depended on it, not lifting his eyes once.

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing after this?” Mu Qing keeps his head low, close enough to the tattoo so that Feng Xin is unable to see him biting his lip so hard that it bleeds.

“Oh..uh…I was going to….I was just going to go home…and just rest for a bit? I guess? Why?”

Mu Qing can see the finish line on the tattoo, with it only needing some minor shading in one more area. It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, hoping that he wasn't about to ruin his living arrangements, but especially hoping he was not about to ruin his friendship(?) by making false assumptions. 

“Di-Did you want to go see a movie? Wi-With me?” 

Feng Xin is silent. Mu Qing is silent. The only sounds heard are music in Mu Qing's station, the sound of his tattoo gun, and the sound of his heart beating out of his chest, loudly enough he was sure Feng Xin could hear it as well. 

He finishes the final shading on the piece despite the heavy silence, and hopes his eyes don't look teary as he sits up, preparing to be rejected. 

Yet when he looked up from his handiwork, proud of how it looked, he was met with Feng Xin's eyes already on his, a wide smile on his lips. 

“Yeah…I’d love to see a movie with you, Qing’er.” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Extra:

“Do you like it?” Mu Qing asks hesitantly as he wraps Feng Xin's tattoo to protect it from germs and fabrics. Feng Xin had sat staring at himself in the mirror, in multiple different poses to admire the new ink, yet had not commented a single thing. In fact, he had been silent since agreeing to see a movie. A light blush was present on his cheeks, but he had sat up really fast from laying down, so Mu Qing suspected it was from that - maybe he felt faint? Mu Qing wishes he had water to offer, but the parlor was out of bottles till the following day.

“I love it….it hurt like a bitch but….it’s exactly what I wanted. I knew you were the only one I could trust for this…” Feng Xin smiled widely as he dug through his wallet for his cash to pay.

Mu Qing offered a small smile in response, a natural reaction to people loving his work on them. Though, the smile dropped when Feng Xin handed him a wad of cash, very obviously much more than he had originally been quoted for.

“Feng Xin. This is too much.” Mu Qing shoves half of it back into the other direction, shaking it in the air when Feng Xin did not immediately take it.

“It includes your tip! If you still think it’s ‘too much’…if anything…you can take me out to dinner after the movie!” Feng Xin says, winking playfully at Mu Qing as he stood up to leave, all his hesitance and awkwardness from during the appointment gone.

“Feng Xin! I can’t take all this!” Mu Qing hisses quietly, not wanting to draw the attraction of others in the parlor anymore than they already had the past couple hours.

 Feng Xin doesn't stop in his mission to evacuate the premises though, just turning to smile happily at a still shocked Mu Qing, before waving excitedly and spinning back around towards the exit.

“It’s a date , Qing’er!” 

(AN: Feng Xin didn't even let Mu Qing pay in the end, telling him that since it was ‘their first date’, Feng Xin wanted to treat him. They bickered about it the entire car ride home, and Mu Qing declared that he was paying on their ‘ next date ’, to which Feng Xin happily accepted. ) 

end