Work Text:
Feng Xin was trying.
He really was.
To be fair, he had been trying for perhaps 800 years to get Mu Qing to notice him but nothing seemed to get his attention quite like insults and fights did and so Feng Xin, being the weak weak man that he was, resorted to masking all his sappy, disgusting feelings under a veil.
It’s not like he didn’t slip up sometimes, because he absolutely did. Whenever he did though, the look on Mu Qing’s face kept him from continuing to be honest, kept him from blurting out the way he felt even if only to spare himself the pain of being rejected because he was a coward.
Only, after the fight with Jun Wu or the White Clothed Calamity, whatever the creature went by, he had sort of… given up on hiding it. Hearing how Mu Qing felt, hearing him speak about his feelings and how he wanted to be ‘f-f-friends’ broke down a wall in Feng Xin’s mind and all of a sudden all his feelings came rushing forth as though the dam holding them back cracked under the pressure.
In an attempt to save face, he tried to avoid seeing Mu Qing as much as possible. The only times they saw each other was when they went to visit Xie Lian in that little cottage of is, where he sat waiting for Crimson Rain’s return. He didn’t know if Mu Qing noticed that he wasn’t around him as often, that he didn’t pick fights, didn’t rise to his baits. He didn’t want to know if Mu Qing noticed, because on the off chance that he hadn’t, Feng Xin would be shattered.
(Mu Qing did notice. He tried not to let it affect him because after all these years of wishing for something and knowing he wouldn’t get it from Feng Xin, one would think he was used to it. but he wasn’t. Because at least before, he got something, he got Feng Xin’s attention when they fought, he got to make his cheeks flush red when he threw insults his way, but now… now he had nothing.)
And then
And then Feng Xin has a close call. Too close a call with a Wrath, one he thought he’d killed and let his guard down for a mere second. A second was long enough for it to scrape its jagged claws down Feng Xin’s chest, dealing him a last bit of deadly damage before he grabbed its face and squeezed, pouring out spiritual energy until it dispersed.
He stumbled, glancing down at his chest to see red slowly soaking through the dark fabric, feeling the warmth run down his body and the sharp pain that accompanied it.
Ling Wen, he called to the goddess’s private communication array.
Nan Yang.
I’ve dispersed the Wrath. I’m taking a few days off. Don’t give me any missions.
Is everything –
He cut her off, everything’s fine. I just need time to recover.
Very well.
(Ling Wen, another voice came into her private array.
Xuan Zhen.
Where is Feng Xin, I can’t get into his array and he needs to come sort this issue out at the borders of our territories.
Nan Yang is taking some time off.
What. Mu Qing’s voice turned cold. Time off? What the fuck does he need time off for? What’s he been doing?
All I know is that I sent him after a Wrath. He told me it was dispersed and that he was taking some time off. That is all.
Fucking idiot. And he was gone.
“You’re both fucking idiots.” Ling Wen muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes and returning to the mountain of scrolls on her desk.)
And he left the array, ascended back to the Heavens and made his way to his palace where his worried deputies waited.
“General, are you –”
“Should we call for someone?”
“Do you need help?
“General –”
“I’m – fine.” Feng Xin gritted out through clenched teeth. “You’re dismissed. I’m taking a few days off.”
“Are you sure, General?” One brave deputy dared ask.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Feng Xin insisted, praying no one could see the blood that was slowly pooling around his feet. “Off you go.”
A chorus of “Yes, General,” echoed back at him as everyone filed out of the palace and when the last person disappeared, he let his death grip on his own chest ease and looked down at the bloodied stones of his courtyard. That would not be fun for whoever had to clean it up.
He was fine. He just needed to clean it and bandage it, then all it needed was a little spiritual energy and he would be fine by the morning. One more day of rest to be sure and to recover the spiritual energy spent and he was back to his A game.
Except, when he went to step into the palace, a familiar voice called his name.
“Feng Xin!” It was Mu Qing. The brunet turned his head to see his fellow General marching through the gates of the palace until he was only a few paces away from Feng Xin. “There you are. I need you to sort out this dispute on our borders.”
“I’m taking a few days off.” Feng Xin replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound too hoarse as he trailed his eyes over Mu Qing’s beautiful hair tied up behind him and the way his robes looked so immaculate and put together, a hand braced on his hip and the other resting on the hilt of his sabre. “Did Ling Wen not tell you?”
“She did.” So he just didn’t care.
“I’ll sort it in a few days.” Feng Xin sighed. “Just – go home, Mu Qing.”
“Feng Xin, hey don’t turn your back on me.” Mu Qing called as Feng Xin turned his head away.
“I’m really not in the mood for this today, Mu Qing.”
“What are you – is that blood?” Mu Qing finally realised what the smell permeating the air was, that sickly metal tinge to their surroundings, and then he rushed over, looking Feng Xin up and down before his eyes zeroed in on the mess that was his chest. “Are you hurt?”
Mu Qing was concerned, but the way he spoke didn’t convey his concern, it only conveyed the panic in his voice, and it came out harsh and loud and tinged with disbelief. And Feng Xin was tired, fraying at the edges, he couldn’t be blamed for what he said.
“Yes, Mu Qing. I’m hurt. I’m fucking incompetent and a sorry excuse for a martial god. I got hurt. Happy? Can you let me go heal myself or are you going to hold me here until I bleed out?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Mu Qing said sharply.
“Isn’t that what you always do?” Feng Xin’s voice raised slightly and he could feel the familiar rush of anger that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just – just leave. I’m not in the fucking mood to get into this with you.”
Feng Xin pushed past Mu Qing and walked into his palace, leaving a trail of red behind him, dripping onto the floor in his wake. The black haired General stayed standing there for a second before he shook himself out of his stupor and stomped after Feng Xin, avoiding the drops of blood on the floor but following them to where Feng Xin had stopped.
He was standing in his bedroom, armour already off his upper half with blood dripping sluggishly from the deep scratches on his chest. Feng Xin dabbed at them with a damp towel, cleaning the stains spread all over his tanned skin while his other hand rifled through a set of drawers shakily.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Mu Qing said through numb lips, both slightly shaken at the sight of an injured Feng Xin and flustered because of his bare chest.
“Is this really the right fucking time?” Feng Xin glared, dropping the towel into a basin of red stained water and unfurling a roll of bandages to wrap around his chest. Mu Qing’s hands twitched, wanting to reach out and do them himself but he clenched them at his sides, nails digging into the callused skin on his palms. “If you want to beat me up, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow at least.”
He tied the bandages and pressed the palm of his hand to his chest, sending spiritual energy into the wound on his chest and letting out a sigh of relief when the pain faded, leaving only a dull ache behind.
“Feng Xin.”
“What, Mu Qing?” Feng Xin lifted his gaze up, attempting a glare but it failed. He just looked so tired, the bags under his eyes prominent in the dull light of the room, blood stains still in some patches on his chest and some cuts along his collarbones, neck and face. He hadn’t let his hair down, nor taken off any of the armour on his bottom half.
He was beautiful, Mu Qing thought.
“You look tired.”
“I fucking am tired.” Feng Xin grumbled.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Mu Qing asked.
“Fuck.” Feng Xin muttered under his breath, taking a seat on the end of his bed roughly. “Fuck.”
“Did I do something? Are you too high and mighty to grace me with your presence? Am I –”
“No! Fuck, Mu Qing! This is why I was – why I was avoiding you. You – you antagonise me, and you put words in my mouth. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to fight with you. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t.”
“800 years and you’re tired now?” Mu Qing felt a little off kilter. “You insult me and fight me and make me bleed for 800 years and now you’re done?”
“I never wanted to fight with you, you fucking idiot. I wanted to be your friend. I wanted you to notice me, but you never did no matter what I tried. The only way you’d give me the time of day was when I mouthed off, when I started a fight. What was I supposed to do?” Feng Xin shrugged weakly, turning his gaze downwards.
“What? You’ve been indulging me for 800 years? Why?”
“Why do you fucking think? Use that big brain of yours that you always brag about Mu Qing.” Feng Xin scoffed.
But surely… it couldn’t be, could it? There was no way Feng Xin felt an inkling of fondness or affection for Mu Qing. But he said he wanted Mu Qing to notice him. For what reason would he want Mu Qing to notice him?
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Mu Qing sounded a little hysterical. He felt a little hysterical too, blood rushing, ears pounding and his heart racing.
“You’re not nice to me, Mu Qing, but I didn’t think you’d be this cruel.” Feng Xin let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“What are you –”
“I love you!” Feng Xin practically shouted, his chest heaving as though he’d been holding in a breath for as long as Mu Qing had known him. “Okay? I fucking – I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids serving His Highness. I loved you through our teenage years. I loved you during the war. I loved you when we crashed and hit rock-bottom. I hated you when you left m – when you left us. I hated you but I still loved you because I knew you were destined for greatness. I loved you when I slept with Jian Lan. I – I loved you when I ascended and I’ll love you for the rest of my immortal lifetime.
“I just wanted your attention. Maybe I shouldn’t have risen to your baits, shouldn’t have let you goad me into fights. I said some hurtful things, I know. The worst part is, I think I meant them. I was so mad that you wouldn’t look at me for me, that you’d only look at me as His Highness’s guard, as a noble. Not as Feng Xin. I just wanted you to look. But you only look at me when you’re fighting me, so I took what I could get.” He shrugged again, looking smaller then than Mu Qing had ever seen him.
“You’re lying.” Was Mu Qing’s first instinct.
“Don’t you dare fucking accuse me of lying about something like this.” Feng Xin practically snarled, finally meeting Mu Qing's gaze with eyes darkened in anger. “I don’t make a habit out of lying in general, but I would never lie about something like this. Never. I fucking love you, and I don’t care if you don’t love me back because frankly I don’t expect anything to come from this, but I need you to believe me when I tell you that I do. I love you.”
“Why did you never say? 800 years and you stayed quiet? Is it shameful? Being in love with me?”
“Why do you keep putting words in my mouth?” Feng Xin sounded furious. “Mu Qing, I would shout from the rooftops about how much I love you, I would send dreams to every one of my followers proclaiming my love. I would write poetry, even though I don’t think I’m very good at it. I would do all of that and more if I thought you wanted it. But you don’t, do you? You never give me the time of day, we’re barely friends. I was content with what I had, and I will be content with what you give me. If you want me to stay away, I will stay away. If you want me to be your friend, then I will be your friend.”
“Would you really be okay with doing that?”
“In time I would be. I won’t lie and tell you it wouldn’t hurt. Nor will I stop loving you. But if it’s what you want then I’ll do it.”
“It’s not.” Mu Qing looked slightly panicked, stepping forward jerkily.
“What?”
“It’s not what I want.” Mu Qing shook his head. “I don’t want you to leave. I –”
“I won’t leave.” Feng Xin’s voice softened. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Why would you do something you didn’t want to do?” Mu Qing’s voice came out as barely a whisper.
“I don’t know how many more times you want me to say it, Mu Qing. Because I love you.” Feng Xin sighed again. “I think all my pride and ego goes out the window when it comes to you, so I’m begging you please just tell me what you want so I can sit and wallow in my misery.”
“Don’t beg.” Mu Qing’s whisper sharpened into a demand. “Don’t – you shouldn’t beg.”
“You won’t do what I ask otherwise, will you? I’m tired, Mu Qing. Let me rest.” Feng Xin rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “For once in your life, can you just say what you mean? Don’t run in circles, just tell me what you want.”
“I want – I want…” Mu Qing trailed off. “I want you to stop assuming the worst.”
“If I think I’ll get nice things and then I don’t, it’ll only hurt more.” Feng Xin chuckled, linking his own fingers together and staring down at them. “If I – if I let myself hope for even a second that – that you feel even a little bit of what I feel for you then –” he cut himself off with a sharp inhale.
“Feng Xin.”
“Hm?”
“Look at me.” Mu Qing demanded, fists balled up by his sides and his pale cheeks flushed.
“I’m looking.” Feng Xin lifted his gaze.
“I – I’m trying to say what I mean.” Mu Qing said slowly. “So just… just listen. Okay?”
“Always.”
“I didn’t mean to ignore you when we were kids. I was bitter, I know that. I was jealous of you. Of how close you and His Highness were. I wanted to be close with you both too, with you. I – I wanted you to like me but I didn’t know how to be likeable. I had duties, and cultivation and my mother and – I couldn’t tell you how I felt. I was scared. You – you seemed so far away, I didn’t think someone like you could be with someone like me, no matter how badly I wanted it.
“I shouldn’t have left like I did after – after. I had to leave, for my mother. I had to – I –” Mu Qing shuddered, feeling a sharp sting in his eyes that usually accompanied tears but he held them back. “I had to leave. I wish I’d done it differently. She died not long after I left. And eventually I ascended. But I was so alone. I had no one. I’d been spoiled after years with you and His Highness, and I think being alone just made me more resentful. I didn’t try to be better when you ascended, I think I was worse.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough. An apology can’t possibly make up for the way I left you, and everything I’ve said to you. it can’t make up for everything I haven’t said, but I’m saying it anyways. So I don’t want you to leave, Feng Xin, please don’t leave. You’re more than in your right to leave, I did it first. But I don’t want you to, so please, please don’t – please –” Mu Qing inhaled sharply, his knuckles gone white from how tightly he was clenching them shut.
“Qing-er.” He heard, and his eyes widened as he looked up to see Feng Xin standing right in front of him. “Oh, Mu Qing.”
Mu Qing’s breath stuttered as Feng Xin’s hand cupped his cheek, warm against the coldness of his own skin, and wiped away the trail of tears running down. He brushed his thumb under Mu Qing’s eye, looking devastated for a second before he wrapped his other arm around Mu Qing’s waist and tugged his head into the crook of Feng Xin’s neck, embracing him tightly.
“Feng… Xin…?” Mu Qing’s voice was muffled against Feng Xin’s skin, his own arms tentatively snaking around Feng Xin’s bare waist.
“You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing I didn’t forgive you for centuries ago.” The hand that cupped Mu Qing’s face was now holding the back of his neck, warm against him. “I won’t leave. I promise I won’t leave.” Upon hearing that, Mu Qing sagged against Feng Xin.
Feng Xin indulged him for a while longer before he pulled away and cupped Mu Qing’s face with both of his hands, looking him in the eyes. Mu Qing’s own eyes widened.
“I love you. You have my heart, you have my life, you have my power. Everything I am, I will give to you. Let’s not fight anymore, Qing-er. Please.” And how was Mu Qing supposed to deny him anything when Feng Xin sounded so heartfelt, so sincere, when he called him Qing-er.
“You’re so embarrassing.” Mu Qing knew his cheeks were flushed. “I don’t want to fight anymore either, A’Xin.”
Feng Xin’s eyes brightened at the endearment, his lips turning up and Mu Qing felt a little dazed at how much prettier Feng Xin was with a smile on his lips rather than a snarl, even more so when Mu Qing was the reason for the smile.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Will you stay?” Feng Xin asked, his fingers brushing against Mu Qing’s cheeks so gently it almost didn’t feel real.
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course I do.” Feng Xin replied easily. “Do you want to?”
“I want to.” Mu Qing’s head tilted forward a little to rest his forehead against Feng Xin’s. “Let me stay, A’Xin.”
“You’re always welcome to stay, Qing-er.” Feng Xin hummed. “You might want to get out of that armour though, it can’t be comfortable.”
Mu Qing huffed, pulling away from Feng Xin and lifting his hands to the straps on some of his armour but Feng Xin’s hands landed on top of his. “Do you want me to take it off or not?”
“Let me.” Feng Xin pushed Mu Qing’s hands away and undid the straps and buckles himself, his fingers brushing against exposed skin and sending shivers down Mu Qing’s spine.
“I can do it.” Mu Qing protested weakly.
“I know you can. But I want to. Will you let me take care of you, Qing-er?” Feng Xin asked, his breath ghosting over Mu Qing’s neck from behind. Mu Qing nodded and got a kiss on his shoulder for his troubles. Feng Xin flitted around, loosening pieces of armour and placing them on the table beside them carefully.
800 years ago, it was Mu Qing who took His Highness’s armour off, the one who folded his clothes and swept his floors. The one who did all the work while Feng Xin lounged around on whatever surface he could find. Now, it was Mu Qing standing in Nan Yang palace in Feng Xin’s bedroom while the other god undid his armour with an uncharacteristic gentleness, touching him as though he were something precious he wouldn’t dare break, as though he was something important.
“A’Xin.” Mu Qing spoke, his voice a little hoarse and thick.
“Hm?” Feng Xin shot him a glance from where he was folding Mu Qing’s outer robe and placing it on the table with the other armour.
“Kiss me.”
Feng Xin didn’t even reply, he just dropped the robe and tugged Mu Qing into him, pressing their lips together. Mu Qing didn’t think they were close enough so he looped his arms around Feng Xin’s neck and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed flush against other. The brunet’s hand was holding his hip and the other on the small of his back, keeping him close.
“Wait –” Fent Xin pulled away, sounding breathless, his eyes wide and his lips red. Mu Qing felt a rush of smugness and satisfaction because he knew he was the one who’d caused it. “Your cultivation –”
“Has General Nan Yang heard of something called dual cultivation?”
“Of course I –” Feng Xin paused, his jaw dropping.
“Perhaps next time, you could show me why they call you Ju Yang?” Mu Qing pressed their foreheads together, feeling the second Feng Xin’s skin flushed.
“When did you get so bold, Qing-er?”
“I think you’re contagious.” Mu Qing deadpanned.
“I love you.” Feng Xin laughed, tugging him into another kiss and then another until he was pressing kisses everywhere he could find. Mu Qing’s lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his forehead. He went to kneel down to kiss him somewhere else but Mu Qing tugged him back up with a worried glance.
“You’re injured, idiot.”
“Is that concern I hear?” Feng Xin cooed, brushing a hand through Mu Qing’s hair.
“Of course I’m concerned.” Mu Qing whispered. “Just… rest until it heals, okay? We’ll have plenty of time for everything else once you’re healed, A’Xin. We have eternity.”
“Whatever you want.” Feng Xin obliged, ducking to kiss Mu Qing’s fingers. “An eternity.”
“Mhm. Or however long you want to put up with me for.”
“An eternity.” Feng Xin said firmly.
“Then an eternity.”