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“I’m going to kill you,” Feng Xin’s voice was unusually calm for someone who had been huffing and puffing. He wiped his face before glaring at the other man before him.
“You said that last round, yet you just keep going,” Mu Qing sighed, looking down on Feng Xin, “If that’s really the case, then why don’t you come over here and finish the job?”
“I swear I’ll do it,” Feng Xin grunted, approaching slowly, still glaring straight through Mu Qing.
“I doubt it,” Mu Qing hummed, crossing his arms, “You love me too much.”
Sparing, the ultimate battle of dignity that Feng Xin refused to lose ever. Granted, he did have his ass handed to him a good seven or so times in the span of one week, but that didn’t mean he didn’t turn around and hand Mu Qing his ass right back. Normally the most “sparing” the two of them would end up doing was Feng Xin angrily flailing and swearing while Mu Qing watched him, holding him back with the end of a broom until he got bored and clocked him in the jaw or Feng Xin got tired. But with Xie Lian stuck with the state preceptor, it’s not like they have anything better to do.
All week, every time they finished their chores for the day they would practice combat together. Some days it had been duels, others it would be endurance training. Today it was sparing, and Feng Xin was taking hits and losses left and right. It would have been fine had it not been for two things that were impossible to ignore. One, Mu Qing was getting obnoxiously cocky, and two, the bandages around his chest were making it impossible to breathe.
See, Feng Xin wasn’t always a boy. When he was thirteen or so he realized that there was a reason he wasn’t happy being a girl, he wasn’t one. Having been a late bloomer, he found that he wouldn’t face much of a problem so long as he stood with his arms crossed and his head held high. However, as he got older and more developed, he realized crossing his arms and wearing a dudou wasn’t going to fool anyone.
When he was appointed as Xie Lian’s body guard, it was scarily easy for him to fool the king and queen, but Xie Lian seemed to see straight through him. The day he figured it out was the same day he had been appointed, which luckily enough for him, had been in the privacy of Xie Lian’s own quarters.
“Dianxia?” Feng Xin had only bowed his head for the royal family, wishing to be respectful, though now he had his head bowed because he didn’t wish to make eye contact with the crown prince, who had been an inch away from his face, looking straight through him, “Is something wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”
“No no, that’s not it,” Xie Lian said, moving his head slightly to inspect the new recruit. Feng Xin tightened his arms around his chest, trying not to breathe heavier out of panic, “Something about you is different, I just can’t quite tell what it is.”
“Is it a good different? Or bad?” Feng Xin was blushing out of embarrassment. Five seconds, it took five seconds after his introduction for Xie Lian to figure it out.
“Hmm,” Xie Lian scratched his chin, still looking over Feng Xin’s form, trying to figure out just what it was he was detecting about Feng Xin that stood out to him, “Are you perhaps a cut sleeve? Who’s the other? Could you perhaps be married in secret?”
“What?” Feng Xin stood to attention at the accusation, uncrossing his arms. As soon as he did, he regretted it, because he could trace exactly where the crown prince’s eyes were staring. He crossed his arms again, backing away, “I can explain!”
Xie Lian tilted his head before looking back up at Feng Xin, “Feng Xin, are you a boy?”
Feng Xin bit the inside of his cheek, feeling guilty. It’s only natural the crown prince would feel lied to, he has a right to know when his servants are hiding parts of themselves. For example, their sex assigned at birth, “Yes Dianxia, I am. However, I wasn’t necessarily born one, but I feel in my heart that I am a boy.”
“Okay, and are you loyal to the crown?” Xie Lian asked, “Can I trust you to protect me and be by my side no matter what?”
“Of course! What kind of a question is that?” Feng Xin answered quickly, “My loyalty will always be to you Dianxia, even if you grow angry with me.”
“Alright, that’s all I need to know,” Xie Lian said, turning to change into a new set of robes. Feng Xin looked up, his eyes brimming with hope, only to look away again out of respect for the crown prince’s privacy.
“Dianxia, are you certain you aren’t angry with me for lying to you?” Feng Xin asked, bowing his head.
“Lying about what?” Xie Lian asked, looking back at him, “You say you are a boy, so I believe you, you’re a boy. So long as I know I can trust you to stay by my side no matter what, what does it matter what you used to be?”
“I- are you certain you’re alright with this?” Feng Xin couldn’t believe the unusual calmness the crown prince had been displaying before him. Not even his own mother had taken the news this well, “I mean had it been me-”
“Feng Xin, why do you doubt my trust in you?” Xie Lian said, “You weren’t a boy and now you are. Would you rather I call you the name you were born as and insist you’re a girl? Because if that’s the case I will have to refuse, I don’t necessarily feel comfortable disrespecting you as a person in such a way.”
Feng Xin blushed in embarrassment, sighing, “You’re right, my apologies Dianxia.” He looked back at Xie Lian, nervously pressing his lips together before speaking, “Do you really not care?”
“Of course not,” Xie Lian waved it off, “In fact, I’m glad you felt comfortable enough with telling me the truth about yourself, it’s a lot to surrender to another person.” Xie Lian turned back to his wardrobe, “Now then, where have I left that other earring?”
“Hey! Are you still there? Hello!” Feng Xin blinked, looking up at Mu Qing, who had been rolling his eyes at him, “You done pouting princess? Or are you ready for another round?”
“Shut up,” Feng Xin grunted, feeling his chest grow tight. The bindings were tugging at his ribs. He could only compare the feeling to what he imagined it would feel like to be trampled by a hundred horses all at once.
“Hmm, make me,” Mu Qing said, “Get up, or are you planning on fighting me sitting down? I doubt you’ll be able to beat me like that.”
“Fuck off,” Feng Xin huffed, rising to his feet. As soon as he did, he felt his chest grow tighter. He doubled over, holding onto his knees as he panted, trying to gain stability. He was never usually like this. Even with double the bindings he was usually able to go about his day as if nothing had been wrong. Yet here he was, feeling as if he was about to collapse. He looked up at Mu Qing, stumbling slightly, trying to catch his balance, “I think I need a break- I think…”
“You just took a break genius,” Mu Qing glared at him, “Stand up, I can’t pummel you into the ground when you’re halfway to putting yourself there.”
“No no, wait,” He heaved, the feeling around his chest growing tighter, “Hold on…I need…fuck- I can’t- I need- I…” His vision felt foggy, everything blending together into one color. His head began to pound, like the beat of drums counting down to when his lungs inevitably collapsed. As it pounded, it spun, making him unbearably nauseous. He huffed and puffed harder, his legs beginning to shake.
Mu Qing raised an eyebrow, watching his partner tremble like a vase in an earthquake, “What’s wrong? You look like you’re dying.”
Feng Xin couldn’t begin to describe how right he was. Everything hurt, and his lungs were only growing heavier, “I can’t- I just-” In desperation, he ran, pushing through the door and past Mu Qing, straight to his room.
“Feng Xin! Wait!” Mu Qing called after him. When he didn’t turn around, he scoffed, chasing after him, “Where are you going this time you buffoon?!”
As soon as Feng Xin reached his room, he desperately ripped off his garments, throwing them every direction until he was down to the bindings. Several layers of bandages, wrapped tightly so that the flattening effect would be as flattering as possible. He sat on a nearby bench, tugging at the bandages in a desperate attempt to get them off so he may breathe again.
When he had gotten half of them off, finally able to breathe again, he rested his head against the table, wanting to walk into a river to make up for the stupidity he was clearly suffering from. He sighed, feeling the way the bandages no longer held his chest. Was he really going to have to choose between breathing and looking like himself every single day? This hardly seemed fair.
“Well, no wonder you looked like death,” Feng Xin jumped up at the sound of Mu Qing’s voice. Mu Qing leaned against the door-frame with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, “Seriously, how many ribs have you broken in such a state. Really, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Feng Xin’s voice was cold as ice as he spoke.
“A bit of advice,” Mu Qing said, standing straight, looking at Feng Xin with the same cocky expression as before, “If you’re going to run off because of some big secret that no one else can know to rip off a bunch of hastily tightened bandages, close the door.” He walked into the room, slamming the door behind him and sitting on the edge of Feng Xin’s bed, “Right, take the rest off.”
“What?!” Feng Xin turned around furiously, already shouting at Mu Qing, “Who the fuck do you think you are to give me orders?!”
Mu Qing gave him a bored expression, waiting for him to stop seething before answering, “Someone who knows you won’t be able to breathe properly until you take the rest off.” He rested his elbow against his knee, still giving him a bored expression, “Well? Are you just going to stand there looking stupid? Or are you going to look stupid while taking them off?”
“Why should I listen to you?” Feng Xin growled.
“Really? Is your brain made of rocks or are you just naturally this dense?” Mu Qing said. When Feng Xin didn’t respond he just rolled his eyes, “Fine, I guess it’s only fair since I will be seeing yours.”
Mu Qing lifted his tunic, setting it to the side, looking back at Feng Xin, still looking bored. Under his clothes, Mu Qing had been wearing a moxiong, tightly tied to hide the chest he was hiding underneath. Seeing the dumbfounded look on Feng Xin’s face caused him to smirk.
“You…you’re just like me!” He shouted as if it was the biggest shock he’d ever heard.
“No, I’m wearing this because I feel like it, obviously I’m the same!” Mu Qing said, huffing slightly, “What? Did you think you were the only man in Xianle who used to be a woman?”
“I mean, yes,” Feng Xin nodded, still staring at Mu Qing with wide eyes.
“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” Mu Qing stood, standing behind Feng Xin, “The rest, off, now.”
“But-”
“You can’t breathe,” Mu Qing stated matter-of-factly, “Not to mention I can’t show you the right way of doing it when you still have them on. Come on, take them off.”
“No!” Feng Xin argued, “I don’t want your help! I’m doing just fine on my own.”
Mu Qing stared at him silently for a minute, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or just plain stupid, or both. When Feng Xin didn’t say anything he just crossed his arms, “Yeah, clearly you were doing so well without my help. I bet if you keep going on your own you’ll only break Twenty-three ribs instead of all twenty-four.”
“Exactly! I can do this on my own!” Feng Xin spat, ignoring the obvious sarcasm in Mu Qing’s voice.
“You really are just as stupid as you are pretty huh?” Mu Qing’s eye twitched as Feng Xin spoke.
“And exactly what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Feng Xin yelled, turning towards him.
“Take them off,” Mu Qing commanded again, “I’m not asking.”
“And I’m telling you that I don’t want your help!” Feng Xin said, “I just have to keep training and I’ll be fine.”
Mu Qing rubbed his temples, counting to ten before he lost it and strangled the pretty boy in front of him, “Would you rather I rip them off of you myself?”
Feng Xin froze, his face going red at the implication, but he turned away, his voice reduced to a grumble, “No, I’ll do it myself.”
Mu Qing sighed, “Finally. I thought you’d just remain dense as a rock forever.” He moved to Feng Xin’s side, watching him carefully to make sure he actually went through with the command.
Feng Xin hesitated for what Mu Qing could only describe as too long. His hands were over the bandage wrap, he easily could have taken it off whenever he wanted, but something about Mu Qing’s gaze was stopping him. Was he seriously about to just show off his bare chest to his rival like this? And yet, if he was telling the truth then it promised an end to constantly having to slip away to catch his breath, something he knew was bothering Xie Lian. Slowly, he removed the bandages, trying to avoid looking Mu Qing in the eyes.
“Finally,” Mu Qing sighed, “I thought we’d be here forever.”
“Shut up,” Feng Xin said, blushing further. Eventually, the bandage wrap lay on the floor, and Feng Xin's face was taken over by a blush.
Mu Qing hummed, muttering into Feng Xin’s ear as he spoke, “No wonder you’re scared of girls, more like scared of upstaging them.”
“Would you shut your fucking mouth and help me already!” Feng Xin snapped, his face warm as he yelled.
“Calm down,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, picking up the bandages from the floor, “Some of us don’t mind a man with a bigger chest pretty-boy.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Feng Xin demanded.
“Truly, had your skull been any thicker it’d be impossible to distinguish you from a rock,” Mu Qing sighed, “Arms up.”
“Would being nice to me while doing me a favor really kill you?” Feng Xin grunted, lifting his arms up just enough for Mu Qing to work around them.
“Sadly, yes,” Mu Qing said, “You know you can relax, I’m not planning on hitting you while you’re down. I’ve done that plenty today.”
Feng Xin had been tensed up from the moment Mu Qing entered his room, but hadn’t realized. He cautiously relaxed his muscles, still glaring straight through Mu Qing, who had wrapped the bandages against his chest again, “You’re doing it too loose.”
“No, I’m doing it right,” Mu Qing sneered, wrapping around Feng Xin’s chest, “I’ve been doing this for a long time sweetheart, don’t fight me on this. You can put your arms down now.”
“What the fuck are you saying!?” Feng Xin barked. Mu Qing just rolled his eyes, “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Because you’re oblivious and an idiot,” Mu Qing chuckled, “Since you can’t figure it out for yourself, I suppose I should just spell it out for you. I’ve been flirting with you.” He gently tugged on the bandage wrap, causing Feng Xin to sit up straight, “Genius.”
“You…what?” Feng Xin didn’t know how to process this information. He hated Mu Qing!...right? He obviously did. And yet, something about the way he wasn’t looking at him like a rock to kick around. Something almost…kind? Cute? Who knows when it comes to Mu Qing? He looked up at him, “Are you messing with me?”
“If you were as smart as you were pretty you’d probably know the answer by now,” Mu Qing said, “No, I’m not messing with you. In spite of your ability to consistently irk me, I do take a small interest in you.”
“Small?” Feng Xin raised an unamused eyebrow.
“Minuscule,” Mu Qing corrected himself. He spread his fingers no more than a millimeter apart to demonstrate, “However, it’s enough of an interest for me to pursue it.” He finished tucking a piece of the bandage wrap in the back, making sure Feng Xin could still breathe, “There, that’s how you do it right.”
Feng Xin patted his chest, grunting at the slight bulge of muscle that he normally managed to pin down, “No it’s not, it’s not completely flat.”
Mu Qing sighed, “There really is no talking sense into stupid is there?” He placed his hands on Feng Xin’s broad shoulders, “I’m afraid even if you had been born into the correct body, you still wouldn’t be flat. You’re far too muscular. If only you exercised your brain the way you do your muscles.”
“Oh that’s rich!” Feng Xin huffed, “Wouldn’t you like to believe you’re trained in combat as I am!”
“Clearly I am, or do you need me to pin you down again to remind you?” Mu Qing taunted.
Feng Xin grumbled before turning away, “You didn’t make it tight enough anyways, it’ll come loose. Not to mention you didn’t position my chest properly.”
“I positioned it fine, you’re supposed to move them to the sides,” Mu Qing argued, still making a motion to fix the bindings, “You’re certain you want them tighter?”
“Just fix it already,” Feng Xin grumbled.
“If you insist,” Mu Qing shrugged, purposefully pulling the bindings uncomfortably tight.
Feng Xin grunted, “Not that tight!”
“Oh, so now you care about how it’s done properly?” Mu Qing held the ends of the bindings.
“Just loosen it asshole!” Feng Xin spat.
“No, I don’t like your attitude,” Mu Qing shook his head, “Ask me nicely.”
“How about you go sweep a staircase or something,” Feng Xin hissed.
Mu Qing’s eye twitched before pulling the bindings tighter again, “Want to run that by me again?”
Feng Xin grunted, leaning against the table to catch his breath, “Okay, time out! That hurts!” The two were so close to ripping each other’s throats out that they didn’t hear the knock at the door, or the sound of it creaking open.
“Feng Xin!” Xie Lian called cheerfully, “I’m back from- oh!”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Feng Xin shouted, looking over at the crown prince with a look of desperation. He and Mu Qing knew that whatever Xie Lian thought was going on probably wasn’t anywhere near as close to the actual situation at hand. Though, it’s hard to find any family friendly explanations for two shirtless men grunting and adjusting each other’s bindings.
“Well, I have to say it was unexpected, but not unwelcome,” Xie Lian said, backing out of the door-frame, “Might I suggest next time, you try locking the door.”
“Please, as if I’d ever let him under me,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “Simple lessons, some people just ended up prettier than smart.”
“If that’s the case, it’s a miracle you can understand basic language Mu Qing,” Feng Xin tilted his head, returning the cocky look he’d been giving him all day.
“Watch it, don’t forget who’s holding your bindings,” Mu Qing warned, tugging the bandage lightly.
“ Ack! I get it! I get it!” Feng Xin hissed.
“Well…I’m going to leave you two alone now,” Xie Lian said, closing the door, discomfort written plain as day on his face, “We can talk later I suppose!”
The two sat in silence for a moment before looking at each other.
“Can’t breathe,” Feng Xin wheezed. Mu Qing blinked, quickly loosening the bindings. Feng Xin let out a held in breath, sighing as he managed to pace his breathing properly, “Thank you.”
“Right…don’t get used to it,” Mu Qing said.
“Yeah, I won’t,” Feng Xin said, crossing his arms, “You really think I’m pretty?”
“Only if you meant it when you said I was pretty,” Mu Qing said.
“I called you dumb too,” Feng Xin said.
“It’d be a good idea to pretend you didn’t,” Mu Qing warned, his eye twitching once again.
“Then, yes, I meant it,” Feng Xin said.
“Good,” Mu Qing said, leaning in to kiss Feng Xin on the cheek, causing his face to warm once again, “Put your tunic back on. Maybe now it’ll be more interesting when I beat you into the floorboards.”
“You wish,” Feng Xin chuckled, both men putting their outer clothes back on, “I was simply letting you win earlier.”
“Sure, I totally believe you,” Mu Qing said, rolling his eyes again, “You’re totally going to win this one lover boy.”
“Watch me, I’ll put all your victories to shame,” Feng Xin said.
Mu Qing smirked, a hint of a genuine smile in his expression, “Sure, I’d like to see you try.”