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“Sorry, you what?”
Feng Xin sighed, annoyed at having to repeat himself. Despite the blush creeping up his neck, he valiantly pressed on.
“I need your… help. Learning how to bake.”
A little pleased about being the one Feng Xin asked, Mu Qing continued. “Oh, really? And why’s that?”
The other man rolled his eyes at him. Mu Qing was rubbing off on him. He’d have to start dropping curse words in response. “Because I don’t know how to bake? I thought that was obvious.”
“Yes, but why do you need to learn how to bake now? I mean, twenty-one years spent without the skill… maybe you don’t need it.”
Feng Xin’s blush flared up again. Mu Qing felt immensely pleased with this response. “W-what does it matter?”
“It matters because I asked, and I’m deciding whether or not to teach you,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe to his apartment in a weak attempt to block Feng Xin’s entrance. A smirk danced across his lips. “Go on. Tell me. Then I’ll be your guide, I promise.”
“You little-” Feng Xin cut off with another deep sigh, the red having found its way all the way up to his ears. “I. I want to learn to bake to… impress a boy I like, okay? He’s kind of… oblivious. And I asked A-Lian, and he said he bakes things for that boyfriend of his all the time.”
Mu Qing felt an inexplicable twinge of annoyance at the explanation. Still, he let Feng Xin shove past him and enter the apartment.
“You sure you want to trust Xie Lian on that? I mean, the things he makes aren’t exactly… impressive.”
“Hua Cheng is absolutely whipped for him. He’d eat anything A-Lian makes. But… I know the boy I like is sort of picky. He has good taste,” Feng Xin said, an odd little smile on his lips.
Mu Qing definitely felt irritated now, but he pushed it down. “So you’re asking me to help you as your closest friend besides A-Lian, I guess?”
“Yeah,” Feng Xin confirmed, walking into the small kitchen. Mu Qing followed him, trying to figure out what about this whole situation had him so pissed off. Probably Feng Xin disturbing his Saturday peace. He had plans, after all!
Feng Xin surveyed the countertops, where various baking supplies and ingredients covered almost every available surface. “Oh, good. Did I come at a good time? You have everything out.”
So what if his plans were to bake anyway? “You never come at a good time. This isn’t for you. I was going to make my favorites, then bring some to my friends. I’m in the middle of something,” he said, gesturing to the oven.
Feng Xin flashed him a wide grin. “It’s so cute that you say ‘friends’ when you’re really just talking about A-Lian and I.”
Mu Qing gave him his best eye-roll. “Don’t be so full of yourself, and don’t be fucking rude. I have other friends.”
“Really? Like who?” Feng Xin asked off-handedly, moving around the kitchen to examine the things Mu Qing left lying around. He took hold of a spoon, turning it around in his hands.
“It’s none of your business who I talk to. And put that down,” Mu Qing reprimanded, reaching close to snatch the spoon out of Feng Xin’s hands.
“So rude. What is your favorite thing to bake, anyway?” Feng Xin asked, drifting over to look at another of the three countertops. Mu Qing could feel his stress levels spiking.
“I have a few. Right now, I like gingersnaps. Can you please not touch things?” Mu Qing gave the flour bag a hard shove to move it out of the way.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m kind of excited,” Feng Xin said. He tapped his fingertips against the counter and shot Mu Qing a shy, small smile.
The soft expression on his face made Mu Qing’s heart skip a quick beat before he remembered why Feng Xin was here. Pissed off once again, he waved Feng Xin away.
“Move, gayboy. I’ll clear some counter space and start. We’re making gingersnaps, because that’s what I was supposed to do, until you interrupted my weekend.”
“W-why am I gayboy?” Feng Xin sputtered.
“Would loverboy be better? It doesn’t matter to me either way,” Mu Qing informed him. He began shifting through all the bags and putting away everything he was done with. He consulted his notebook and cleared more space until all that was left were the ingredients needed and a few bowls and mixing tools.
“Okay. For this recipe, the first thing you should do is-”
Feng Xin cut him off and grabbed his arm. “What’s that smell?”
“You’re a terrible student.” Mu Qing didn’t bother moving his hand.
“Can you just answer my fucking question?”
Mu Qing pointed at the oven. “I made cinnamon rolls. They’ll be done in a minute. Now, can you focus?”
“You can make cinnamon rolls?” Feng Xin looked appropriately awed by his skills. Mu Qing smirked.
“Logically, anyone can, yes. Well, maybe not you,” he couldn’t resist adding, turning swiftly. “While we wait for those, let’s get started on this.”
Feng Xin watched him obediently as he added ingredients to the bowl. “With the sugar and butter, you want to beat it for roughly two minutes. Once it’s fluffy, we can add the rest. Here, take this.”
Mu Qing passed the handheld electric mixer over to Feng Xin. “Slide it up to medium mode. Yeah, and when it’s going, stir gently.”
Brow furrowed in concentration, Feng Xin moved the mixer jerkily in a circle, entirely missing all the ingredients in the center. Mu Qing sighed and took his hand gently to guide his movements.
“What the hell are you doing? You don’t have to be so aggressive,” he reprimanded, slowing him down and making practiced circles with the mixer. “Got it?”
“It’s not that hard, you know. You’re not that much better,” Feng Xin huffed. His ears were red again.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll leave you to it, let me grab the cinnamon rolls.”
Feng Xin looked stricken and Mu Qing laughed, crossing the kitchen to grab his oven gloves and take out the cinnamon rolls.
“Oh, these turned out better than I expected. Last time I tried making these, they wouldn’t rise and I had to scrap the whole thing,” Mu Qing said, setting the tray on the stove and removing his gloves.
“Can I see?” Feng Xin asked.
“Hey. Focus on your task, loverboy,” Mu Qing teased. He grabbed the bag of frosting he’d filled up earlier and dutifully applied a hearty layer to one of the rolls.
“Will you ever let that go? I’m starting to regret telling you,” Feng Xin sighed.
“Yeah, I bet you are. Now, here,” Mu Qing said. He pulled a piece off the cinnamon roll and blew on it as he walked across the kitchen.
“Aren’t you supposed to let it cool before you frost them?” Feng Xin asked, still dutifully mixing.
“Yes. Unless you’re eating them right away. Say ‘ah’!”
“Wh- no! Just give it to me! This is embarrassing!”
“To who? I promise I won’t tell your loverboy. And you’re busy mixing. Can you just take it already? This shit is hot,” Mu Qing barked.
Feng Xin opened his mouth reluctantly and let Mu Qing feed him. He made a face at Mu Qing before chewing slowly. His eyes lit up.
“This is… amazing. You’re a good baker, A-Qing.”
“I know. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Mu Qing replied smugly. “Crack that egg and mix it in. Oh yeah, and see that little porcelain spoon? Use it to scoop some molasses in and mix it all together. Can you handle that?”
“You’re underestimating my skills, dearest friend,” Feng Xin declared, before promptly dropping half an egg shell into the bowl. They both fell silent.
“Incredible. Your skills leave me simply… speechless,” Mu Qing told him, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Shush. This is my first time.”
The next hour (and gingersnaps had never taken Mu Qing quite so long) was full of similar mishaps and mistakes. It took all of his skill to keep the gingersnaps from becoming something akin to the radioactive substances Xie Lian managed to create every time he was in the kitchen. It also took all of his patience not to throw Feng Xin squarely out the window.
Mu Qing exhaled loudly with relief when Feng Xin took the gingersnaps out of the oven and didn’t drop the tray. “Finally. You did it.”
“I’m trying, okay? Can we taste-test?”
“Give it a second to cool, please.” He leaned his elbows on the counter behind him and tilted his head back, breathing slowly. “I need a minute.”
Feng Xin, to his credit, sounded guilty. “Thanks for your help, A-Qing.”
“Mm. Anytime. Tell me how it goes with loverboy, okay?”
“Sure.”
Mu Qing fanned the bottom of his shirt and sighed again. The last hour had been exhausting, yet… surprisingly fun. He always had fun with Feng Xin.
How obnoxious.
Feng Xin’s face filled his view, lips curved upwards in a wide smile. “A-Qing! Say ‘ah’!”
Startled, he opened his mouth automatically. Feng Xin popped a piece of gingersnap in his mouth. He came back to his senses and smacked Feng Xin’s hand away.
“What the fuck was that?”
“Hey, you did it to me first! How is it?”
Mu Qing chewed, still glaring at Feng Xin. He didn’t mind nearly as much as he should’ve, which only served to fuel his annoyance. “Not as good as when I make it by myself.”
He was lying, of course. There was something about the fact that Feng Xin had put so much effort into trying to make the cookies with him that made them taste a little better.
For another boy. Gods, he wished he’d never asked about that.
Feng Xin frowned at him, taking another cookie to eat. “Are you sure? I think they’re pretty good.”
“Hm, well. Whatever. Is that all? I can finish cleaning up, and then I’d like to do the rest of my baking.”
“Actually…” Feng Xin hesitated, then went on. “Would you mind if I stayed?”
“Yes, I do mind. You made a mess,” Mu Qing said, gesturing to the spilled dough, upturned bowls, and dirty utensils spewed all over the counters.
“I’ll help you clean up! And I won’t touch anything. I’ll just watch. It’ll be fun! Things like this are always more fun with company.”
While Mu Qing enjoyed his alone time, he couldn’t deny that there was something about Feng Xin’s presence that made the apartment a little more cheerful. Besides, if the end goal of all this was for Feng Xin to get a boyfriend, shouldn’t he take advantage of their remaining time together?
Decision made, he pointed to a pile of dishes. “Put those in the sink and soak them. When you finish, come over here. I’m making lemon sugar cookies for A-Lian.”
Feng Xin gave him another smile and a mock-salute. “Aye, aye!”
— ⋆˙⟡♡ —
The next weekend found Mu Qing draped lazily across his couch, flipping through the required reading for one of his courses. It was an easy read, yet boring. Stretching out, he grabbed his phone from the other side of the couch to play some music.
As he scrolled through some playlists, trying to decide what he was in the mood for, he heard a knock on the door.
With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself off the couch. He yawned and shook himself off, then straightened out his baggy, short-sleeved shirt before heading to the door.
“Hello?” The hallway was empty. Mu Qing looked from side to side, and saw nothing.
He was about to close the door and return to his reading when something caught his eye.
On the floor outside of his door sat a small plastic bag, tied with a red ribbon into a neat bow. Attached was a note.
Mu Qing scooped them up and closed the door, turning the bag over in his hand. Through the plastic, he could see that it was full of gingersnap cookies.
He set the bag down on the counter and leaned against it, reading the note. It was written in messy handwriting, but Mu Qing had no trouble reading it. It was incredibly familiar, after all.
A-Qing,
You really are oblivious, huh? All my hints and still nothing. So determined to believe you’re unlovable?
Heard from a reliable source that you like gingersnaps. I also heard you think my baking is worse than yours. I hope it isn’t that bad. I’ve been practicing.
Thanks for your help. I lo
Love,
Feng Xin
Somehow, all of the messy scribbles and borderline illegible writing made it all the more endearing. Mu Qing couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading across his face.
He got his phone and opened his chat with Feng Xin.
You idiot. You could’ve just told me.
The response was immediate: That’s not an answer.
Mu Qing’s fingers flew over the keyboard. There was no question.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Go on.
A brief pause this time. A-Qing. Will you go on a date with me?
Mu Qing’s smile grew wider. Let me think about it.
A-QING!!!!!
Love you.
A longer pause. Mu Qing bit his fingernail, watching the three dots appear, disappear, then reappear again.
The message was simple: ♡♡♡