Work Text:
“Mu Qing, are all those layers really necessary?”
“You’re the one who’s going to freeze to death out there, wearing only that horrendous sweater in such ridiculous weather,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes as Feng Xin looked down at his sweater in mock offence. “Don’t come crying to me when you inevitably catch a cold,” Mu Qing sniffed, drawing further into himself, crossing his arms and rubbing his hands against his very long, puffy, furry sleeves.
“You’re acting as if there's a blizzard out there,” Feng Xin gruffly replied, and much to his dismay, the outside wind howled shrillingly in response as if to only further prove Mu Qing’s point.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” Mu Qing replied, an adamant look on his face. Feng Xin could hear the unspoken nag behind that expression, and what was the point in denying him now?
“Fine, fine, you win, I’ll go grab an extra jacket,” Feng Xin huffed, before turning around in search for a larger jacket to fit over his already oversized sweater. He could practically hear Mu Qing’s smug smirk from behind him from his small victory, but after a moment, in a softer voice, Mu Qing spoke, “You can borrow mine. It’s on the bed.”
~🐕🐈⬛~
“Soooo,” Mu Qing started, buckling his seatbelt as Feng Xin revved up his engine. “Where’re we headed?”
“It won’t be fun if I tell you now,” Feng Xin laughed, a mischievous glint to his eyes. Mu Qing rolled his eyes, and replied almost petulantly, “You’re a jerk.”
Feng Xin bumped his elbow against Mu Qing’s arm playfully and chuckled, “You love this jerk.” Mu Qing rolled his eyes again and Feng Xin quickly leaned over to peck a kiss onto his cheek, which caused Mu Qing’s face to redden almost instantly. He’s so cute, Feng Xin thought.
“You’re so cute when you blush like that,” Feng Xin said out loud, which prompted another round of flustered, grumpy noises and a jab to his shoulder. “Shut up,” Mu Qing complained, “And do your job. Drive the car, asshole.”
~🐕🐈⬛~
Feng Xin had parked the car several streets away from the actual destination because of how “crowded the place was going to be”, but when Mu Qing had turned the corner and nearly walked face-first into a bunch of red and green balloons, he was not amused.
And he was definitely not amused when Feng Xin’s first reaction was to cackle like an absolute madman.
“A-Xin,” Mu Qing scowled, a red tinge to his face. Feng Xin let out several more rounds of hearty chuckles before calming down and looking him in the eyes again. “Qing-Er, did you forget to wear your contact lenses?” He teased playfully.
“No! You do know contact lenses don’t give me X-ray vision, don’t you?” Mu Qing grumbled, swiping irritatingly at the balloons, which only seemed to taunt him further with the stupid smiley faces drawn onto them.
“Don’t be frustrated, I was just poking fun at you,” Feng Xin giggled. “Besides, look in front, we’re here already!”
Looking past the balloons, Mu Qing’s eyes immediately widened.
Xianle’s annual winter festival. This was where Feng Xin had wanted to bring him.
~🐕🐈⬛~
Legends had it that long ago, hundreds and thousands of years before, prior to humans discovering technology and modernising society, there were gods. Gods, ghosts, mortals — they had all coexisted in the three realms. Xianle, the city Mu Qing and Feng Xin now call home, used to be a famous, prosperous and beautiful kingdom, overflowing with luxurious riches, famous for its rich culture of literature and music. The royal family had possessed gems and jewels, golds and treasures, and the noble legacy left behind by their gracious crown prince could never be forgotten.
However, these were not the reasons Xianle had gone down so memorably in history books.
Xianle was the birthplace of the legendary Xianle Quartet (for the lack of a better name; apparently the four of them had never formally come up with one.) Xianle’s gracious crown prince, his spouse, and his two childhood best friends were just the strange makeup of this queer quartet (author’s note: yes, pun intended.)
After the corrupt heavenly emperor had been defeated by the three gods and ghost king, Xianle’s crown prince had been nominated by the majority of heavenly officials and mortals to take the place of the heavenly emperor. After an agonisingly long month of deliberation, he had agreed, under one condition.
“We’ll rule together.”
Chaos had immediately erupted among all the three realms. The heavenly emperor had always been a sole figure of authority. Never a team.
Unfortunately, Xianle’s crown prince had been adamant, and he had a notorious history for his stubborn streak. Left with no choice, the four were appointed as the heaven’s first and last team of emperors.
Their rule was surprisingly peaceful. With all of them working together, the heavens were restored in less than a week’s time after their rule was declared, and came out of the disaster looking more glorious and majestic than ever. Their reign sewed the three realms together peacefully, with conflicts between ghosts and mortals lessening with an impressive degree. The cultivation world was at peace, and things couldn’t have been better.
Unfortunately, there’s no banquet in the world that doesn’t come to an end. As mortals continued to live on and inevitably discovered new technology and weaponry, there was no need for any deities any longer. They had grown independent, and had no need for gods to help with any more conflicts. Without prayers, gods ran out of spiritual energy — subsequently life energy — and then eventually passed.
The same was assumed for the Xianle Quartet.
Hence, Xianle’s winter festival had been set up and was made an annual celebration to commemorate the successful efforts of the quartet; in remembrance of them, and to celebrate their achievements. (According to old history books, the four men would be seen most often in the mortal realm during winter. They seemed to have a preference for the season, hence, making their festival take place during that season would only seem the most fitting.)
However, the public’s knowledge about them wasn’t exactly… fairly accurate.
As the two childhood best friends of Xianle’s crown prince, stood right in front of their own festival, breathing and very well alive.
~🐕🐈⬛~
“Seriously A-Xin?” Mu Qing’s mouth let out as his eyes continued to wander the carnival’s perimeter in awe. Feng Xin hummed in satisfaction and explained, “Hua Cheng and Dianxia had visited the one last year, but we were out of town. It’s only right if I bring you this year.”
To put it simply, the funfair looked more like a winter wonderland than a carnival. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the wooden lampposts, casting a warm orange glow on the snowy landscape of the festival, and the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the funfair decorated with all the colourful ornaments and vibrant flowers looked majestic against the snowy backdrop. Young children dashed around the various stalls excitedly, some chasing their friends with snowballs threatening to fire, others building snowmen around the giant tree. The smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate from the food stalls only seemed to draw Mu Qing in further.
Considering how popular the festival was, it wasn’t too crowded, and Mu Qing had a feeling it’s because Feng Xin had specially arranged for them to go on a weekday rather than a weekend. He can’t help but smile at the thought. Feng Xin really knew him.
“Let’s go in? I have the tickets,” Feng Xin grinned, as he flashed the two slips of golden paper in front of Mu Qing.
Mu Qing didn’t reply, but instead, he reached out for Feng Xin’s hand and laced his fingers with Feng Xin’s own, and made a small gesture towards the entrance. Feng Xin immediately understood him (as he always had done for the past several centuries,) and grinned brightly. With smiles on both their faces, he guided the both of them towards the entrance, fingers entwined.
~🐕🐈⬛~
“Oo look! Bows and arrows!” Feng Xin exclaimed excitedly, pointing towards a stall several feet away and taking off without Mu Qing like a little kid tempted by free sweets. Mu Qing rolled his eyes fondly, a small grin tugging at his lips. “A-Xin, won’t that be a bit unfair to the other fairgoers?”
Feng Xin shrugged and laughed. “I’m a fellow fairgoer too,” he reasoned. Then, he exchanged a few coins with the stallholder and the man handed Feng Xin a wooden bow with plastic arrows.
“So cheap,” Mu Qing scoffed quietly.
Feng Xin had heard him though, and he just turned around to look at Mu Qing with an exasperated, helpless expression.
Mu Qing watched as more people gathered around the stall, kids and adults alike taking their own bows and arrows from the stallholder after exchanging a few coins with him.
Finally, it seemed the stallholder had finally found enough contestants, and he walked over to pull off the cloths, revealing the target board. “Whoever scores a bullseye first wins!” He announced simply, before heading back to his small cash register and counting the number of coins.
Everyone had only just lifted up their bows, preparing to take aim, when an arrow swiftly passed all of them in a flash. Before anyone could even shoot, one arrow had already struck itself neatly and perfectly into the centre of the target board. Hearing the gasps and whispers let out by his customers, the stallholder quickly turned around and went completely speechless after looking at the perfect score.
“Bullseye! We have a winner!” He yelled after regaining his composure, ringing the giant bell hanging from above his stall, and applause sounded out from at least a one-mile radius from the game booth.
Mu Qing huffed. Feng Xin was such a show-off when he wanted to be. But truth be told, who was better suited to win the archery game commemorating General Nan Yang than Feng Xin himself?
Snapping him out of his thoughts, Feng Xin practically bounced back towards him with a huge shit-eating grin on his face, hugging a gigantic cat plushy.
Flinging himself onto Mu Qing’s own slightly smaller body, he exclaimed, “Qing-Errrr, are you proud of me?”
Mu Qing sighed and looked at his boyfriend fondly. “Yes, yes, very proud of you,” he said, torn halfway between exasperation and endearment. Patting Feng Xin’s head which rested snuggly on Mu Qing’s shoulder, Mu Qing felt as if he was patting a giant puppy.
“This is for you!” Feng Xin grinned, lifting up the giant cat plush, presenting it to Mu Qing proudly. Mu Qing squinted at it. “What?”
“It looks like you, doesn’t it?” Feng Xin said, holding the cat plushy beside Mu Qing’s face as if he saw an actual resemblance. Mu Qing rolled his eyes.
“Whatever,” Mu Qing said.
“You like it, don’t you?” Feng Xin teased, waggling his eyebrows up and down. Mu Qing thought he looked stupid. Mu Qing also thought he looked adorable.
“It can go on the couch,” Mu Qing relented, and Feng Xin instantly beamed. Mu Qing sighed — was he seriously stuck to this dork for the rest of his immortal life?
~🐕🐈⬛~
Languidly strolling along the snowy path, Mu Qing’s eyes suddenly caught onto a building in the distance. “Isn’t that where they display those ice sculptures?”
“Huh, I think so. You wanna take a look?” Feng Xin shrugged.
Mu Qing hummed. “You think they’ll have us in there?”
Feng Xin laughed, and Mu Qing laughed too.
“Eh, maybe. If they do have a General Xuan Zhen statue though,” Feng Xin paused to stare deep into Mu Qing’s eyes, and Mu Qing suddenly felt extremely exposed, “I might be stuck there all day.”
Mu Qing scoffed for the hundredth time tonight. “Right. While you have the very real General Xuan Zhen right beside you. You won’t be able to resist my charms as I walk out and dump you to your ice statue of a boyfriend,” he said, suddenly feeling very bold.
“Husband.”
“What?” Mu Qing stared.
“Husband. You’re my husband, not my boyfriend,” Feng Xin corrected simply, a proud grin on his face. That earned a lighthearted slap to his chest. “Yeah, yeah, husband,” Mu Qing muttered dismissively, pink lightly dusting his cheeks.
~🐕🐈⬛~
Mu Qing was admiring and taking photos of an ice carving of his Zhanmadao (it was really beautiful if Mu Qing did say so himself, the carving was intricate and the details were as carefully and accurately chiselled as possible considering this was a piece of history from centuries ago), when his hand was suddenly caught and enveloped by a bigger, noticeably warmer hand, and before he knew it, he was dragged away to another section in the ice sculpture museum.
“What?” Mu Qing said as Feng Xin stopped in front of two ice sculptures.
“Look to your right,” Feng Xin said, and Mu Qing looked to his right.
“…”
“Holy fuck,” Mu Qing let out, and Feng Xin giggled. “You caught my language.”
“They… Is that seriously us?” Mu Qing asked instead, pointedly ignoring Feng Xin’s comment.
“The plaque says it all,” Feng Xin said, and Mu Qing looked down. Married Couple General Nan Yang and General Xuan Zhen, it read. “Dianxia and Hua Cheng’s couple statue is in the room beside this one, but this is our’s.”
“This is a couple statue?!” Mu Qing nearly screamed, and the fairgoers beside them all turned to look at him.
“We’re literally married,” Feng Xin facepalmed.
And before Mu Qing could fully process what that implicated — sincewhendidanyoneknowFengXinandIwereinarelationshipdidthatlittlebastardHuaChengwritesomethingdowninthosefuckeduphistorybooksIswearIwillmurderthatlittlepieceofshit — Feng Xin had already went up to a passerby and asked if they could help him and Mu Qing take a photo beside the (their?) ice sculptures.
As embarrassed as he was, Mu Qing was kind of glad Feng Xin was the one who asked. He too needed the photo after all, for the memory.
Situating themselves beside the ice sculptures, Feng Xin wrapped an arm around Mu Qing, imitating the pose their ice sculptures were making, and Mu Qing forced himself not to cringe.
After a flash of light, the photo was taken, and the pitiful passerby looked sceptically at Feng Xin’s phone. Squinting, they commented, “Hey, you two kind of resemble the statues, don’t you think?”
Feng Xin laughed casually while Mu Qing didn’t dare to open his mouth. “True love looks the same anywhere,” Feng Xin replied instead, and Mu Qing nearly punched him in the face.
~🐕🐈⬛~
Mu Qing looked at Feng Xin, who was currently trying to nonchalantly cover up his shivering by crossing his arms and frowning, looking at anything and everything other than Mu Qing.
“You’re cold,” Mu Qing pointed out. Feng Xin shook his head stubbornly. “You don’t have to act tough in front of me, dork,” Mu Qing said. Taking off his own fur coat, he wrapped it around Feng Xin’s broad shoulders, and Feng Xin’s face for once turned slightly red (either from the cold or from Mu Qing’s gesture, though Mu Qing’s pretty sure it’s the latter.)
“The ice sculpture museum was freezing,” Feng Xin grumbled under his breath. Mu Qing laughed and gave him a smug grin. “What did I tell you about being better safe than sorry?”
Feng Xin rolled his eyes, a gesture he probably caught from Mu Qing after being with him for so long. “Yes, yes, smartypants. What would I do without you?”
Mu Qing shrugged in response. “Do two cups of hot chocolate sound good to you?” Feng Xin’s eyes immediately lit up as if his spirit was rekindled. “Yes, please,” he nearly whined. Mu Qing giggled.
~🐕🐈⬛~
Holding their newly acquired hot chocolates, and sitting on a picnic mat underneath the giant Christmas tree, hand entwined with Feng Xin’s own, Mu Qing felt like he couldn’t ask for anything more. He watched Feng Xin’s face literally light up as he passed him the hot chocolate, and could see him trying to resist downing it all in one go.
“There’s marshmallow fluff,” Mu Qing added for the lack of anything better to say.
“Mhm,” Feng Xin hummed contently, stirring the cup’s contents with his spoon. Lifting his own cup up, Mu Qing took a satisfied sip of the hot chocolate.
Once he settled the cup back down onto the ground, he looked up at the bright glowing ornaments hanging from above them. They looked really pretty, although Mu Qing could tell it was made of cheap material.
“Your nose,” Feng Xin said, and Mu Qing turned to face him. “What?”
“There’s marshmallow on your nose,” Feng Xin said, scrunching his own nose, and Mu Qing thought he looked really cute, conveniently ignoring the fact that there was white fluff on the tip of his own nose.
And suddenly, without any warning at all, Feng Xin leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. Mu Qing’s mouth fell slightly open, and he looked at Feng Xin in surprise. Feng Xin smiled. “May I?”
“Hmm,” Mu Qing hummed, turning around and tapping a finger on his chin, as if contemplating. Finally, after a moment too long, he replied, “No.”
“What? Why?” Feng Xin really whined this time, and Mu Qing had to suppress a laugh watching Feng Xin visibly deflate.
“Loverboy, you need to find a mistletoe first.”
Feng Xin’s eyes widened in realisation before he laughed. “Again, since when did you care about these kinds of things?” Taking a quick glance around his surroundings, his shoulders sagged. “I don’t see any nearby-”
“Just kidding, I just wanted to do it first,” Mu Qing said, and before Feng Xin had even processed what he said, Mu Qing’s hand had already cupped his cheek and he was surging forward, his lips planted perfectly onto Feng Xin’s. It was as if fireworks had suddenly ignited in his heart, soaring to the sky and erupting into a cacophony of flames and light. Feng Xin’s eyes widened as he watched Mu Qing’s eyes close, but then he regained his rhythm, and his hand reached for the back of Mu Qing’s head, too. Mu Qing’s lips were soft, albeit a little dry from the winter cold, but still very soft. He tasted like peppermints and chocolate, and although Feng Xin really didn’t like peppermint, he thought it tasted great in that moment.
After a few moments, they pulled apart to catch their breaths. Looking at Mu Qing’s red, swollen lips, a sense of possessiveness swept over Feng Xin, and he smirked. “Just as competitive as always.”
Mu Qing huffed. “Couldn’t let you get the first kiss of the day.”
Feng Xin leaned in, face inches away from Mu Qing’s again, as he asked in a low voice, “Then, may this lowly one have the honour of having the second one?” Mu Qing nodded, and when Feng Xin’s lips were on his once again, he smiled into the kiss.