Work Text:
The late morning Sunday sun poured through the living room windows, painting warm stripes across the rug. Feng Xin had his back against the arm of the couch, and Mu Qing was nestled between his legs, leaning back against his chest. They were supposed to be reading—there was a book and a research journal open on the cushion beside them—but instead Mu Qing had his palm pressed against Feng Xin’s, fingers spread.
“No way,” Mu Qing said, grinning. “Your hand is not that much bigger.”
“It’s clearly bigger.” Feng Xin splayed his fingers wider, dwarfing Mu Qing’s hand. “See? Science.”
“You’re cheating. You’re stretching.”
“That’s not a thing.”
They were still laughing about it when a soft chitter-chitter-chitter came from the window. Fu Yao sat on the broad sill, tail curled neatly around his paws, his sleek black coat soaking up the warmth. His golden eyes were fixed on a sparrow hopping along the railing of the tiny balcony, and his jaw trembled with an excited, clicking chirp.
“He’s going to get a sore throat,” Mu Qing murmured.
“He’s been doing that since seven,” Feng Xin said.
The apartment around them was a gentle patchwork of their two lives. Mu Qing’s minimalist side tables with clean lines Nd a single ceramic vase on it, stood next to Feng Xin’s overflowing shelf. Feng Xin’s archery trophies gleamed on the mantel, and beside them Mu Qing had arranged a row of photos in simple black frames. It had taken a month of careful negotiations to get the couch placement just right, but now everything felt settled.
A sudden click-click-click of nails on hardwood announced Nan Feng before the husky’s fluffy face appeared around the corner. He padded over with his characteristic bouncy gait, tail curling in a happy plume.
“Hi, baobei,” Feng Xin said, reaching down, "my son is here!"
Nan Feng went to Mu Qing first though, shoving his cold nose under Mu Qing’s chin and receiving a two-handed ear rub. Then he circled to Feng Xin, leaning his full weight against Feng Xin’s legs and letting out a satisfied grunt as Feng Xin scratched behind his ears. Only after he had collected his requisite toll of affection did he trot toward the window.
Mu Qing tilted his head against Feng Xin’s shoulder. “Watch.”
Nan Feng stopped at the windowsill, his tail still wagging slowly. He looked up at Fu Yao, who had gone still, his chittering silenced. For a long moment, the two animals regarded each other. The cat, dark and elegant, and the dog, a cloud of white and gray fur with mismatched eyes.
Then Nan Feng lifted one large paw and placed it gently on the edge of the sill.
Fu Yao blinked once. With a flick of his tail he leaped down, landing without a sound. He didn’t look back. Nan Feng hopped up in his place, front paws on the sill, and immediately let out a joyful boof at the sparrow, which took off in alarm.
“Nine o’clock on the dot,” Feng Xin said, amazed.
“They have a shift change,” Mu Qing said, laughing quietly. “They worked it out.”
They watched as Fu Yao wove his way across the room, his movements fluid and unhurried. When he reached the couch, he didn’t go around. Instead, he stepped deliberately over Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s intertwined legs. One paw, then the other, his tail brushing their ankles, as if their tangled limbs were simply part of the furniture. He continued to the plush cat bed in the corner, turned three precise circles, and curled up, his chin resting on the edge.
“He used to hiss at Nan Feng every time he came within three feet,” Mu Qing said.
“Nan Feng used to chase him under the bed,” Feng Xin added.
“And now they have a shift change.”
Feng Xin pressed a kiss to Mu Qing’s temple. “Guess they figured out the whole sharing-space thing before we did.”
Mu Qing leaned back, lacing their fingers together over his chest. “I don’t know,” he said, smiling. “I do think we’re doing okay.”
From the window, Nan Feng let out a delighted aroo at a leaf drifting past, and Fu Yao’s ear twitched in his sleep. The sun shifted, the light warming their hands where they lay tangled together, and the apartment settled around them. Four beings, learning to share the same windowsill, the same couch, the same life.