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"Listen, I just think people should be allowed to be stupid, okay?"
Mu Qing scoffs at the comment and rolls his eyes, twisting his hand along the steering wheel in a fidgety sort of way as he rounds the corner of his next turn. The houses start to thin out, replaced instead by a smattering of tree clusters. The speed limit increases as they near the edge of town.
"An axe murderer is heading your direction and your first thought is: wow, better tie my fucking shoe. Are you kidding me? That was so dumb, Feng Xin. That character absolutely deserved to die."
It's late on Halloween night and the two of them have just finished their long-standing tradition of going to see a horror movie at the drive-in theater in the town over. Feng Xin continues his defense of dumb characters, his voice loud and in-your-face in a way Mu Qing pretends isn't heart-achingly endearing. He's talking with his hands too, like he always does—waving them about as he yaps.
Mu Qing watches him from the corner of his eye and bites back a smile. As they ease out onto the highway, the darkness of the night opens up, starlight spilling out onto the pavement in front of them. And just there, past Feng Xin's head and out his window, Mu Qing sees it—
The full moon.
The night sky is clear and it allows the moon to shine to her full capacity. She looks so beautiful outside of the light pollution of the city—her face marked with craters—shining so brightly the space around her looks like ripples in a clear lake. It's like she's a perfectly round stone right on the cusp of sinking past the water's surface.
The road stretches out in front of them, not another car in sight, and Mu Qing bites his lip in anticipation.
Driving this exact route may or may not have been intentional—Mu Qing isn't inclined to say.
But with Mu Qing's many failed attempts at concealing his excitement and the suspicious lack of his biting retorts, Feng Xin doesn't take long to catch on. He notices Mu Qing's tiny smile like he's trained his whole life to see it (and really, he has, hasn't he?) He whips his head to his window and cranes his neck to get a good look at the sky. And just as quickly as he had turned away, he's careening back again, looking at Mu Qing with the widest grin and shining, gentle eyes.
God, Mu Qing just loves him so, so much.
"Well, go on then," he says instead, trying to sound put-upon and failing.
Feng Xin wiggles in his seat, hands already curled into obedient little paws that he rests on his thighs. He looks to Mu Qing and then to his window and then to Mu Qing again, his breathing turning fast and excited. Mu Qing can practically see his tail wagging and he's not evening wearing it. At the sight, Mu Qing smiles with such deep affection bursting in his chest and does as he's been silently asked to do: roll the window down for his sweet, sweet puppy.
The cool night air rushes in and Feng Xin smiles so wide his eyes go completely closed. He turns to his window, putting his paws along the sill, and presses his face out through the opening to look up into the sky until finally, finally, finally—
He howls.
It's a stuttery little sound to start off with, like he can't even catch his breath through his levels of excitement. But soon it evens out into a steady and long cry, full of such joy. He sucks in a big breath, his neck arching as he goes in for a second one and then a third one, until he's finally satisfied after his fifth howl—his longest one yet.
He pulls back into the car, his eyes closed and his face flushed with cold. His hair is a tousled mess that only grows wilder as the wind whips through it. His chest heaves with each breath he takes as he finally knocks his head back onto the car's headrest and grins like happiness was made for him to wear.
And it was, if Mu Qing has any say on the matter.
Mu Qing loves him.
Loves him, loves him, loves him.
"Good boy, A-Xin. That's such a good puppy," Mu Qing praises in a low, even voice, reaching out his hand to rest it on Feng Xin's upper thigh. He gives it a good squeeze and then pets him in long, gentle strokes down by his knee. Mu Qing knows it gets achy in this colder weather and finds himself itching to soothe it whenever he's able.
Feng Xin whines happily, wiggling in his seat at the attention and the fading adrenaline. He looks perfect like this: vulnerable and fuzzy all the way down to his core and so fiercely trusting—trusting of Mu Qing.
In the distance, a chorus of howls starts up, echoing back in response.
Feng Xin's smile surely couldn't grow any more radiant and yet, even in the darkness of nightfall, he rivals the sun.
And Mu Qing is the sole receiver of his warmth.