Work Text:
Mu Qing leads the way with Feng Xin at his side. He seems to be more relaxed and maybe if Feng Xin looked long enough, he could see the ghost of a smile forming at the corners of his plump lips (he did try looking long enough earlier, but he stumbled on his own feet and saw a gloating look on Mu Qing’s gorgeous face instead).
Turns out the cafe was a good twenty minute walk from Mu Qing’s house, and now Feng Xin feels bad that he was the one who picked their date location–aside from the long walk, Mu Qing might’ve taken more time to navigate to an unfamiliar place and felt anxious using paths unfamiliar to him.
“I can hear the cogs in your head turning.” His thoughts were interrupted when Mu Qing spoke. He smiles at the comment and sighs. We’ve only spent three hours but it feels like he’s known me forever.
“Just thinking about how long it must’ve taken you to get ready for our date, since the cafe is quite far and you mentioned it was your first time going there.” Mu Qing stops in his tracks.
“Are you pitying me?”
“What? Fuck no! I just wondered since you said you’ve never been there! And you just walked!”
Mu Qing rolls his eyes, and taps on the ground with his cane again, wordessly signalling to Feng Xin to resume walking.
“I know the paths well in that neighborhood. I just never visited the cafe because I once heard a dog barking in the vicinity while I was walking Saber, and she didn’t like it.”
Feng Xin perks with the mention of Saber and purposefully crunches the gravel under his shoes so Mu Qing can hear that he has started walking again.
“You have a dog too?”
“Saber’s a cat. They go on walks too, you know.”
“Mmm. I’ve yet to see one.”
Feng Xin stretches out his hand to catch a falling flower in front of him. He looks up and sees that they’re in a walkway lined up with trees, leading to a cozy looking bungalow painted in white with wooden porch accents. It’s nearing the end of April, and the trees are full of fragrant white and yellow blooms that make the scene in front of Feng Xin seem straight out of a movie.
“Beautiful. The flowers, I mean.” He’s looking right at Mu Qing.
“They are. They’re magnolias, my mom likes them.” Mu Qing quips with an unfamiliar look on his face. Feng Xin gauges that Mu Qing is not the type to openly talk about more personal topics on the first date, and so even if he wants to know more about Mu Qing’s family, he held his tongue and just hummed his acknowledgement.
They reach the house, and Mu Qing hesitates before climbing the stairs. Feng Xin’s chest constricts for some reason.
“This is me.. Thanks for walking me home even if you really didn’t have to. You know your way back?”
“...”
Feng Xin seemed to be frozen in his place and suddenly felt like he didn't know how to string words to form sentences. Why does this date have to end so early? He wanted to hear Mu Qing talk more about the things he likes and doesn’t like. He wants to know what pisses him off so he avoids doing them.
“Your thoughts are so loud, you know? Are you going now? Or are you thinking of a way to get me to spend more time with you?”
Mu Qing’s right eyebrow raises slightly and Feng Xin feels like his throat is stuffed with cotton. He wanted to tell Mu Qing off but he’d be lying if he said none of that was true.
“I–I want to. Spend more time with you, I mean. If that’d be okay? Do you have other things you have to attend to at this hour?”
A cold draft of air blows their direction as if to lead them into the house. Mu Qing cannot believe he’s bringing home a date he just met a few hours ago. He did quiz Xie Lian about this person, but it's still new to him that Feng Xin’s presence, despite being a bit loud and energetic like a mutt around his owner, brings him a sense of comfort and security.
“Hm. Fine. Let’s go inside.”
Mu Qing effortlessly climbs the stairs and places his thumb on the biometric scanner of the front door’s smart lock. As the door opens, the lights in the porch and the house automatically turned on too, much to Feng Xin’s amazement. He slips inside, and as the door locks by itself, a cat with shiny black fur walks up to Mu Qing and mewls excitedly as if to welcome him.
“Hi baby.” Mu Qing says softly as he slides off his shoes, making Feng Xin’s ears warm. I want to be your baby too.
“Hi kitty”, Feng Xin crouches so the cat can come up to him. The feline initially hides behind Mu Qing’s legs but its curiosity won and started smelling Feng Xin’s outstretched hand.
“This is Saber. Careful, she’s a bit hissy when it comes to new people.” Feng Xin smiles. His date sure knows how to describe himself despite talking about his pet cat.
“She’s just like you then.”
“Shut up.”
Saber allows the visitor to pet her on the head and even closes her eyes when Feng Xin scratches under her chin.
“Such a good girl! Maybe we can go on a walk at the open park around here with my dog some time.. if you want to.”
Mu Qing doesn’t speak for a good half minute, and Feng Xin was about to let it go when Mu Qing answers,
“Sure. As long as your dog doesn’t bite.”
Feng Xin felt like he could suddenly run a mile right now. Did Mu Qing just agree to another date? He decides he can think about these later, for now he’s curious about how Mu Qing does things around his house.
Mu Qing crouches beside the counter and feels for the metal bowl situated on a small mat on the floor. He picks it up, cleans it under the sink, and prepares a fresh meal for Saber by taking a can of cat food from the open overhead cupboard. Feng Xin watches quietly, mesmerized by how Mu Qing moves with ease. Sure, he probably memorized where everything was and its muscle memory by now, but Feng Xin could never imagine himself being able to locate his stuff at home like this. He feels a tug in his chest–a deeper feeling of admiration and respect towards the beautiful man in front of him.
After putting down Saber’s bowl on the mat, Mu Qing for the adjacent bowl with water, carefully dumped its content in the sink, and filled it with a fresh batch.
“How often do you replace his water in this bowl?” Feng Xin moves closer.
“At the very least, twice a day.” Mu Qing shrugs. “I work from home and rarely go for long periods of time outside, so it has never been an issue.”
“I see. Can I put it down for you?” Mu Qing freezes when he feels Feng Xin’s warm hand brush his as he attempts to take the bowl from his hand. Feng Xin holds his breath– Mu Qing made it clear early on that he wants to do most things as independently as he can, and Feng Xin stepping in like this might not be the best move. But before he could mutter an apology, Mu Qing lets go of the bowl.
“Thanks.”
Feng Xin can’t help but smile seeing Mu Qing’s little pout when he took the bowl. His mind wandered about the possibility of living in the same house as him–the mundane, domestic activities he used to do alone changing to accommodate Mu Qing makes him feel all fuzzy inside. He glanced at Saber munching on her food as he placed her water bowl and remembered his own pet at home who is probably wondering where the hell he is by now.
“Shit! Arrow! I’m sorry, let me just uh.. Check on my dog at home.”
He frantically pulls his phone from his jacket and opens the pet camera app that he uses to monitor his pet when he stays out a bit later than usual, like now. Mu Qing quickly recovers from the initial surprise brought upon by Feng Xin’s language and inquires,
“You said earlier you lived alone. Did you hire a dog sitter for today?”
“Ah no. I’m lucky that Arrow doesn’t need much supervision, but I did set up a pet camera and an automatic feeder for him for when I’m not at home at the usual times I am.” Mu Qing shifts his weight onto one foot.
“Do you need to go now?”
“Nah he’ll be fine. His feeder will dispense his food in a bit so he’s probably just waiting for it. I do leave him like that at home from time to time.”
Mu Qing nodded, absentmindedly bending his right foot inwards as if to stretch it.
“I see.”
The silence between them stretches indefinitely.
“Um. Do you want to eat something? It’s been some time since we had the pastries at the cafe.”
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’ll have.”
“Okay.”
Mu Qing walks toward the refrigerator and Feng Xin peeks behind him to see what he does.
It looks like he’s feeling the top part of the plastic containers. Maybe he memorized what he put in which container? But they’re identical in design..
As Mu Qing takes out a container, Feng Xin remembers how Mu Qing let him help with Saber’s bowl earlier. Emboldened by this, he intercepts Mu Qing’s movement and places his hand under the plasticware.
“Here, I’ll put them on the counter.”
Mu Qing suddenly feels weird–why is this gesture making his heart race? He mentally reminds himself. Ignore it. You were just single for a long time.
As the other man continues scouring the fridge, Feng Xin can’t help but stare at his side profile, and in turn he catches the redness on the tips of his ears.
“What is it?”
“Huh?”
“I can feel you looking at me, you know.”
“I’m not! Just looking at y–what you’re doing. Can I ask you something?”
“You’re already doing it.” Feng Xin finds himself smiling for an unknown reason.
“Why do you smooth your hand over the containers?”
“I use my fingertips, not my whole hand. Also it’s because there’s braille on the cover that indicates what’s inside. Xie Lian gifted these to me.”
Feng Xin looked at the container he took from Mu Qing–sure enough, there are raised dots on one side of the plastic cover and on the container’s side.
Mu Qing came back with two more containers stacked on top of each other, a jar, and a ziplock bag with cheese. He starts arranging the ingredients on the countertop.
“Salad with chicken okay with you? You’re not allergic to poultry or dairy?” Mu Qing asks.
“All good. No allergies. Can I help you prepare it?” Mu Qing’s lower lip jutted out in an almost imperceptible pout. He’s so fucking cute.
“...”
“Or I could just play with Saber..”
“Fine. The kitchen supplies are over here.” Mu Qing moves to where Feng Xin is standing, crowding him, and Feng Xin catches a whiff of sweet vanilla. What the fuck! He smells so good.. I want to hug him and bury my nose in his neck and–
Mu Qing pulls a drawer that houses plates, bowls, and utensils and starts giving Feng Xin orders.
“Get the salad bowl.” Feng Xin retrieves a ceramic, wide-mouthed bowl and places it on the counter.
“Not that one, that’s too shallow. The bigger one at the bottom.”
Feng Xin’s eyebrows shot upward, stunned. It’s as if Mu Qing doesn’t have a visual impairment at all.
“What–sorry, but how did you know? You didn’t even touch it?”
“The sound it made when you put it on the counter.” Damn. Feng Xin puts back the first bowl and retrieves the other bowl Mu Qing described.
“Thanks. The wooden tongs please. And have the table set for us.”
They move like clockwork. Feng Xin takes plates, glasses, and utensils from the drawer and places them on the dining table behind them as Mu Qing washes the prepped salad vegetables and shreds the rotisserie chicken with a fork. When Feng Xin gets back to the kitchen counter, Mu Qing is about to open the jar of what looks like salad dressing. He twists, but the lid refuses to budge. He tries it again, but the moisture made it slippery and he almost drops it hadn't he been fast enough to pull it to his abdomen.
“Let me”, Feng Xin offers. Mu Qing sighs and resigns the task to Feng Xin, who opens it easily.
“Here.” Feng Xin places the jar back into Mu Qing’s hands, lingering, as if he’s figuring out when to let go.
He doesn’t–big, warm, calloused hands cover the other’s cold, dainty ones. Mu Qing zones out, deep in thought.
What the hell is this feeling? Sure, Feng Xin is a gentleman and his actions towards him don't feel forced at all. Sure, he has this uncanny ability to read right through Mu Qing’s icy exterior and doesn’t overstep his boundaries. Sure, he makes Mu Qing feel like he can be completely himself without getting judged. But isn’t it too soon? Too fast? Too–
“Mu Qing? You okay?” He pulls his hand away and Feng Xin’s finally leaves his.
“Uh. Yes. C-can you pass me a spoon please?” Mu Qing exhales and composes himself as the cold metal of the spoon brings him back.
“Thanks.”
Mu Qing finishes up the salad, placing it on the table gingerly while Feng Xin asks which beverages should they pair it with. The scene is too domestic and routine, much to Feng Xin’s delight.
Feng Xin comes back with a carafe of cold water for Mu Qing while Mu Qing puts an ample amount of salad on Feng Xin’s plate. The gesture made Feng Xin’s chest constrict–he really should get a grip (or not) and so in return, he poured water into Mu Qing’s glass and then his, then guided his hand to its location on the table. Mu Qing felt his face heat up at this small action and just nodded before serving himself.
“Let’s eat?”
“Okay. Thank you for the meal, Mu Qing.”
Mu Qing is moved by the sincerity in Feng Xin’s voice that he couldn’t suppress the smile forming on his lips, so he nods and takes a bite out of his food instead. They ate in silence for a while, until Feng Xin felt something soft pawing at his socked foot followed by a mewl. Mu Qing tells her off.
“You already ate, Saber. It’s not proper to ask our guest for their food.”
Saber looked at Feng Xin with huge, reflective orbs that made her look like a black fluffy cloud with green eyes. He let out an abrupt, hearty laugh and asked Mu Qing as he pets the fluffy black cloud.
“Can she have some chicken?”
“Yes. But not too much. Next thing you know she’s eating right off your plate.”
Feng Xin took a few pieces of chicken from his plate and offered them to Saber, who snatched it nimbly from his hand and munched noisily.
“She will now see you as a food dispenser.”
Mu Qing says before he takes a forkful of salad. Feng Xin retorts,
“That’s fine. I’ll bring her more snacks whenever I visit.”
Mu Qing stiffens–and even with food in his mouth, hastily stuffs himself with more. Oh shit. Feng Xin realized he said it as if Mu Qing’s an old friend who has given him permission to visit his house whenever he wants. He scrambles to do something to take Mu Qing’s mind off of it and noticed some salad dressing on the tip of his nose.
“Um, y-you have ranch on your nose.. I’m wiping it off, okay?”
He reaches over, with Mu Qing still looking like a deer in headlights as he chewed his food.
Mu Qing felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs when he sensed Feng Xin’s warm fingers on his jaw and nose. How dare he! How dare he touch me like that and make me feel like imploding! What the hell!
“There.”
“...”
He heard Feng Xin clear his throat, “All good.” Feng Xin retracts his hand and Mu Qing mourns the loss of contact and is thankful for the space at the same time.
He tries to steer the conversation away from what just happened. “The salad okay?”
“Yeah, it's really good! The dressing especially–tangy and a bit spicy. I could eat this for days straight.”
Mu Qing felt his face heat up again–he made the salad dressing! His heart leapt knowing it's appreciated, since it's his mom’s recipe. They finished their food in silence. Feeling at ease, Feng Xin started,
“That’s the best fucking salad I’ve had in a long time.”
Mu Qing scoffed. “I bet you haven’t eaten anything healthy in a long time.”
The other man laughed, remembering the weekly pizzas he used to finish in one sitting while watching literally anything on the television with Arrow.
“Mm, I’ll admit that one thing.. But it is really good, and very filling.”
Mu Qing can’t help the small smile creeping up his lips, and this time, he doesn’t try to dampen it down.
“Thanks.”
He stood up, placed his chair back, and started collecting the dishes to be washed.
Feng Xin shot up from his seat, “I’ll do it! I’ll wash the dishes. Please.”
He looked expectantly at Mu Qing, who seemed to be debating it in his head.
“Eager much?”
“Come on, it's the least I can do.”
“Alright. Don’t break anything.” Feng Xin beamed at the opportunity to do something for his date. He’s a giver, after all.
“Sure won’t.”
Mu Qing padded soundlessly into his living area and turned on the voice activated smart speaker to resume the podcast he’d been listening to.
“Hope you don’t mind some background noise.” Feng Xin smiled as he dunked the plates into soapy water.
“Not at all. What kinds of podcasts do you like listening to?” Mu Qing perked up at the question–he liked a variety of podcasts and audiobooks about general topics that interested him but had a limited number of people to talk about it.
“I like listening to audio dramas, podcasts about psychology, fashion, economics, random how-tos. I also like nature documentaries and book reviews.”
Feng Xin replies, “Damn.. You’re a walking well of knowledge then. Wanna tell me a random fact?” Mu Qing pouted at the compliment.
“Hmm.. Did you know that aside from a central brain, an octopus has mini brains in each of their arms? And they remember people.”
Feng Xin is genuinely amazed at what he heard that he looks over to where Mu Qing is and the glass in his hand clinks against the faucet head.
“Ah fuck.. Really? So they have nine brains?”
“Yeah. And didn’t I tell you not to break anything?” Mu Qing scolds, but there’s not a hint of venom in his tone–in fact, he sounded playful.
“I didn’t!” Feng Xin smiles to himself at the situation. Who would’ve thought that he would willingly be a househusband for a gorgeous person with a cat-like personality within four hours of meeting them?
“What about you? What content do you usually consume during times where you can listen.. or watch stuff?”
“Whatever pops up on my YouTube algorithm usually, but they’re mostly sports, home DIYs, cooking videos.”
“Cooking videos?!”
“What? You think I don’t cook?”
“Mmm.. you didn’t seem the type to. My bad.”
Mu Qing might’ve acted surprised–and he is because he assumed that Feng Xin lived through takeouts and eating out, but knowing that he can make meals made him more attractive. What the hell! It’s a basic life skill Mu Qing. Get over it. But still.. That’s..sexy. His inner thoughts are all over the place by now, so he plays turns on his smart speaker connected to Spotify to resume the audio drama he’s been meaning to finish.
“Nah it's fine. Xie Lian really likes my casseroles by the way.”
Mu Qing can almost sense Feng Xin’s cheeky smile from his voice, and he scoffs to play it cool and sits on his couch instead. As he listens to the drama’s narration, his mind drifts away. This feels weird.. but I like it. He hugs the throw pillow and can tell that Saber has taken her usual place on the sofa’s armrest to Mu Qing’s right, but also feels the ground vibrate as a pair of socked feet pad their way towards him.
The sofa dips under Feng Xin’s weight, and he breaks the silence first. “You look like you’re ready for bed.”
Mu Qing’s brows shoot up and he feels warmth spread onto the back of his neck.
"What!?"
“I meant you look so cozy you’re about to fall asleep.”
“No I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I am not!”
Mu Qing hears the beginnings of a teasing cackle as Feng Xin retorts, “You are!”
Mu Qing swings the pillow he’s holding to his left–hard–and is met with a rumble of unrestrained laughter and warm hands on his.
“Ow!” Feng Xin exclaims while laughing in between, Saber jumping off the sofa to save herself from the ruckus.
“You’re getting comfy.” Mu Qing quips. The movement on his left mellows down, alongside the laughter that he would really like to hear more. And Feng Xin is still holding his hand.
Feng Xin exhales, as if putting down a heavy weight he’s been carrying for some time. He gently puts Mu Qing’s hand on the pillow between them and covers it with his own. Mu Qing feels like imploding again. He knows at the back of his mind that he is touch-starved, and a man he is possibly attracted to is making the move on him. Mu Qing feels his self-restraint teetering on the edge.
“You.. make me feel comfortable. And I am comfortable. With you.” Feng Xin feels like his brain is stuttering–he’s not very good with verbalizing his feelings, but he doesn’t want Mu Qing second-guessing his intentions. He likes Mu Qing and he has decided to let him know even if he’s stumbling over his words. Feng Xin squeezes his hand.
“Is this okay?”
Mu Qing’s words fail him. He nods, slowly wrapping his fingers around Feng Xin’s while facing him. He really didn’t know what to say–he feels like there’s a lump in his throat that’s preventing him from speaking. Mu Qing takes a deep breath in, and pulls his hand away–only to put both of his hands on Feng Xin’s. He hears Feng Xin inhale sharply as if burned, but he continues–familiarizing himself with the texture and feel of it under his fingertips.
Mu Qing feels the weight shift–and senses that Feng Xin shifted his position and is now facing him completely with the throw pillow between them. He adjusts accordingly and sits cross legged, all while his left hand is held by Feng Xin’s right. Mu Qing starts feeling both of Feng Xin’s hands that are on the pillow.
“You have rough hands. On your knuckles, but its more pronounced on the right hand. Calluses on the inside too. And you have a–is this a mole? On the outside of your left wrist.” Feng Xin’s heart stutters. What is he-oh. Mu Qing is trying to memorize him. Trying to know him better.
“Yes it is. What are you doing, Mu Qing?” Feng Xin asks despite knowing the other man’s intentions--his deep, gravelly voice making Mu Qing blush. There-–he admitted it to himself. This annoying man makes him feel like a kettle about to reach its boiling point.
“What does it look like to you?”
He feels Feng Xin’s laughter vibrate through their connected hands, and feels a finger brush a strand of loose hair behind his ear.
“You blush so easily. So cute.”
Mu Qing dips his head down in embarrassment and scrunches his eyes shut.
“You’re annoying.” He whispers as his ears turn another deeper shade of pink.
“Mu Qing..” Feng Xin whispers, as if he’s afraid Mu Qing will fade if his voice is too loud. He grips Feng Xin’s hands tightly as if to anchor himself, and in return, Feng Xin’s thumbs rub the back of his hands as if to soothe him.
“Y-you..” Mu Qing inhales–and then lets out the air forcefully. Gods, he feels like puking. “You’re so annoying.”
“Mhm. I think you’ve made it clear.” Feng Xin replies, a certain brightness evident in his voice.
“And I would like it if you k-keep annoying me..” Mu Qing inhales again, shakily this time. What the hell was that? Sure. The sofa shakes from Feng Xin’s silent laugh, and takes Mu Qing’s hands firmly.
“I’d be honored. Thank you for letting me.” Sincerity is apparent in the way he said it, and Mu Qing certainly did not expect what Feng Xin did next–something soft lands on the back of his right hand–gone as fast as it came. Mu Qing gasps and pulls his hands quickly from the man in front of him. Did he just!?
Feng Xin goes rigid. He clearly overstepped his boundaries with Mu Qing, fucked it up just like that. He balls his hands on the pillow and opens his mouth to apologize when Mu Qing pats the pillow, finds his hands again, and pries them open to make room for his.
He stares at Mu Qing’s long, delicate fingers as they intertwine with his rough ones. He’s not mad? He tightens his hold ever so slightly, and Mu Qing reciprocates with a squeeze.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t ask you before doing that.” Feng Xin apologizes.
“It’s fine. I.. I liked it.” Mu Qing might as well have been talking to his knee with the way his head is hung downwards–not wanting to face Feng Xin despite not really seeing him.
“You did?” Mu Qing nods. He feels more confident now after briefly feeling the absence of Feng Xin’s warmth on his. I want more.
Mu Qing detaches his hands from Feng Xin’s and reaches up towards his face before asking with the softest voice.
“Can I touch you?”
Feng Xin suddenly can’t breathe, can’t speak. But he didn’t want to keep his pretty date waiting so he guided his hands towards his face. Smooth fingertips glide over his features, memorizing the ridges and slopes of his face. Feng Xin’s eyes fall shut, his breath hitching when Mu Qing’s cool thumb presses against his warm lower lip. Mu Qing’s other hand explores and rakes through his hair, making Feng Xin tilt his head slightly upward from the involuntary tingle spreading across his scalp from the action.
Shit. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe he’s letting me do this. All on the first date. Mu Qing’s thoughts are racing so fast in his head but he can’t seem to stop what he’s doing, and he doesn’t want to. So he stops thinking altogether and with hands bracketing each side of Feng Xin’s face, pulls him until he makes contact with warm skin.
Feng Xin has no idea what’s happening, but he feels it before he sees it. He tips forward and barely catches himself on the pillow between them, feels the cold tip of Mu Qing’s nose squished against his cheekbone and warm, moist lips on the corner of his mouth. Fuck! What the fuck! Wh– His thoughts fly out the window when Mu Qing pulls back and looks directly at the spot where he kissed him, dazed. Feng Xin covers the other man’s hands, still clutching his face, and grins so wide he probably looks scary. Mu Qing’s thumbs move languidly, catching on the dimples that weren’t there before. I don’t want this to end. I want to stay in this moment.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes again and letting his hands fall onto the pillow between them. However, the movement somehow breaks the spell and Mu Qing’s whole body stiffens–and then jerks–when he hears the familiar ringtone he set for his mom’s text messages.
It seems like a thick fog of tension that they didn’t realize was there has been cleared away, and Feng Xin is the first one who catches his bearings.
“That might be someone important?”
Mu Qing uncrosses his leg and sits properly, withdrawing his hands from the other man reluctantly.
“Yes. Um. Excuse me.”
Feng Xin gets the message quickly and walks to the kitchen to give him some privacy. Mu Qing speaks to his phone, and is greeted by the warm voice of his mom. Hi, A-Qing! I just got home now. The traffic was crazy! But I already ate dinner with Ziyuan. Don’t forget to eat, okay? Stay safe. Love you, my A-Qing.
Mu Qing cannot help the big smile spreading across his face. His mom has been gaining her independence more and more, and he’s got his fair share of stories to tell her, including today.
“Hi, Mom. I’m glad to hear that. I’ve just had dinner too, with a friend. Rest up, love you Mom.” He sends it, and hears Feng Xin clear his throat behind him.
“Um.. Are we.. I mean. As much as I want to stay, I should let you rest, it’s getting late. Thank you for today Mu Qing. I enjoyed spending my day with you.”
Mu Qing can’t figure out the emotion in Feng Xin’s voice, and his chest feels like bursting with his date’s words.
“I did too. Enjoyed my time with you.” He wrings his hands nervously in front of him. What now?
“I-I’ll show you out.” He gingerly walks past Feng Xin and wishes he wouldn’t go as he hears him put on his shoes. Mu Qing unlocks the door and as he turns, senses that Feng Xin is right in front of him.
“Listen, earlier–”
“No. If we talk about it now you’re not leaving.” Feng Xin’s eyes go wide and he chuckles,
“No shit. Really?” Mu Qing rolls his eyes, and Feng Xin can’t help but pinch his cheek.
“Stop it!” Mu Qing hisses, but then makes no move to let his date go–his hand gripping the door handle so tight it almost went numb. Feng Xin is confident that this date will be followed by another, and so he takes Mu Qing’s other hand and drops a swift kiss on it, finally detaching himself from Mu Qing after one last squeeze.
“Good night, Mu Qing.” Feng Xin slips through his door, and Mu Qing couldn’t care less about how he probably looks–red as a tomato with an expression of sadness and yearning on his face.
“Night. Get home safe.”
“Will do, cutie.” Mu Qing closes the door and lets out an exhale he didn’t realize he was holding. Maybe saying yes to this date wasn’t so bad after all. Saber comes up to him, mewling in agreement. Mu Qing walks to where his phone is and smiles to himself as he opens his mom’s chat box. Hi Mom. You won’t believe what happened to me today.