FENGQING
# 4 please and thank you
@squishyscribbler you're getting tagged this time <3 but thank you for requesting! I really had fun with this one, and I hope you did too ^^ happy valentine's day~
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4. things you said over the phone
“You’re sure you got everything?” Mu Qing asked for what had to be the seventh time. So far, the answer to that had been no, so there was merit in asking again.
Especially when the person on the other end of the phone was such an idiot.
“Yes, will you quit asking me that already!? I’ve got everything!” To prove his point, Feng Xin started rattling off the groceries he’d managed to accumulate over the course of ninety minutes and two phone calls.
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, only half-listening to his roommate turned boyfriend’s obnoxiously loud voice. Even through the phone, he sounded utterly ridiculous yelling so passionately about their groceries, of all thing. Mu Qing couldn’t stifle a grin as he thought of Feng Xin standing in the middle of an aisle, tossing things around the cart as his voice boomed throughout the supermarket. The vision was almost as endearing as it was stupid.
“Well?! Was that everything?”
Mu Qing hummed, pretending to consider the list that they’d created for tonight’s special dinner. They hadn’t intended to do anything for their six-month anniversary, but Xie Lian just had to mention the milestone around Feng Xin, who jumped to action as if their entire relationship hung in the balance.
Mu Qing himself didn’t really see what the big deal was. So they’d been dating for six months. They’d both been needlessly pining for years, but he sure as hell never celebrated that.
But Feng Xin wanted to make a thing out of their anniversary, so they would. Mu Qing would rather suffer through a gooey and romantic dinner than have to endure an afternoon of Feng Xin sulking like a kicked puppy.
“Well? I need an answer! There’s no line!”
“Did you say rice?”
“Of course I said—” Feng Xin’s grumpy voice cut off abruptly. Silence filled the line for a long moment, followed by a quiet and emphatic fuck that made Mu Qing smirk. As if he could somehow hear the curve of his lips, Feng Xin hastily snapped, “Shut up! That’s the last thing I need, right?!”
“Think so,” said Mu Qing, a little off-handed just to get on Feng Xin’s nerves a bit. He deserved it for leaving the shopping to the last minute.
“Is it or isn’t it? I need to know!”
“Why the hell are you asking me? You made the list, dumbass!”
“Fine!” Feng Xin sounded like he was on the move again, likely stomping his way toward the rice aisle. Mu Qing imagined the firm set of his brow and the angry purse of his lips, and a burst of fondness swept through his chest. “I’m getting the rice, and then I’m checking out!”
“Whatever you say,” said Mu Qing, letting that soft emotion leak into his tone. He could be a little bit more affectionate with Feng Xin today. As a treat. It was their anniversary, after all.
The more he thought about it, six months without killing each other did seem like an appropriate occasion to celebrate.
“I’m getting off the phone! You hang up first!”
“Don’t boss me around,” Mu Qing warned, not feeling that lenient no matter what day it was. “Make sure you get home at some point during our anniversary, all right?”
“I will, I will! Love you!”
“What!?” Panic swelled within Mu Qing, flooding his veins and making his heart rage against his ribcage wildly enough to shatter bone.
He didn’t hear that. He did not fucking hear that, and Feng Xin was going to clear that up. Feng Xin was going to repeat himself, and then Mu Qing would feel ridiculous for thinking he’d just heard Feng Xin say—
“I—” Feng Xin paused, and was that fear that made him swallow so aggressively that Mu Qing could hear it? His next words were quiet, yet resolute. “I said—love you.”
What. The. Fuck.
Mu Qing quickly ended the call.
The moment he did, he realized that may have been the wrong thing to do.
Fuck. What was the right thing to do? Mu Qing’s head swam. Everything felt jittery, so he stood up from the couch and began to pace across their living room. Even with the softness of the rug to dampen the noise, his rapid footsteps sounded just as deafening as the violent rush of his heart in his ears.
In his hand, the cell phone stayed quiet. Feng Xin didn’t try to call him back, nor did he try to text him. He should, shouldn’t he? He just dumped a whole goddamn confession on Mu Qing over the phone, of all things, and he had the audacity to let Mu Qing hang up like that? What the hell?
Mu Qing paced back and forth for a bit, but he didn’t feel any better. He needed a second opinion about what to do, but who could he even ask about something so… sensitive? Xie Lian came to mind first, but he shelved the idea because he just knew that Hua Cheng would end up finding out about this. Xie Lian couldn’t keep something from his husband to save his life.
Mu Qing considered his other options. Pei Ming was, obviously, out of the question. Shi Qingxuan was also a bad idea because they would keep him on the phone forever. He Xuan would either hang up on him or hand the phone to Shi Qingxuan, and Mu Qing couldn’t decide which was worse. Ling Wen might have been able to help, but she rarely had the time for social calls, let alone the patience for them.
… Was Xie Lian really Mu Qing’s only option?
Fine.
With a heavy sigh, Mu Qing sat down on the couch and called his friend. The dial tone rang in his ear for only a moment before Xie Lian picked up with a cheerful, “Hello! Mu Qing? Is that you? I thought you and Feng Xin were busy tonight?”
“We are. Or we will be. That idiot is still at the store. Or he’s on his way home. I don’t know where he is right now or when he’s coming back.” If he’s coming back, after that fiasco of a confession. “Listen, I… I need some advice.”
“Okay, what is it?” Xie Lian sounded mystified, as if he couldn’t imagine why Mu Qing would ask for his advice on anything, and that was honestly a valid reaction. Last time Mu Qing had asked for his advice, Xie Lian had given him a recipe for stew that had almost killed him.
“I was on the phone with Feng Xin, and when he was about to hang up the phone, he said he—Xie Lian, he told me that he loves me.”
For a long moment, Mu Qing heard only silence. Which, what the hell? Xie Lian usually had trouble shutting up, and he chose now to keep quiet? Now, when Mu Qing needed him to yap the most?
Finally, Xie Lian’s soft voice reached his ears. “And…?”
Mu Qing couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He caught sight of Feng Xin’s jacket draped carelessly over the back of the couch, exactly where Mu Qing always told him not to leave it, and his heart gave another monumental lurch. “And I need to know what to do about it!”
“Well,” Xie Lian began, almost frustratingly calm about this entire situation, “when someone tells you that they love you, the usual response is I love you too.”
“No, I—I know that, I’m just—” Mu Qing cut himself off with a quiet hiss. Sitting down had been a mistake. He stood up and began to pace back and forth again, staring blankly at the life he and Feng Xin had built together. The furniture they’d chosen together, the ugly rug that Mu Qing had only agreed to buy because Feng Xin had liked it so much, the even uglier throw pillows that Mu Qing had picked out because Feng Xin had hated them so much—
Everywhere he looked, Mu Qing saw nothing but them.
“Mu Qing?”
“What if he didn’t mean it? What if it was just a reflex, and he’s going to come home and apologize for it? It’s our anniversary, Xie Lian. Six goddamn months. I’ve been waiting to have this for—for longer than I would ever admit! And what if he comes home and says it was a mistake, and then we end up fighting about it? What if we—”
Mu Qing couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t breathe it into life out of fear that it might come true, and yet his mind kept going.
What if Feng Xin didn’t mean it? What if they fought? What if they broke up?
Feng Xin was an idiot. He was stupidly straightforward and said things that he shouldn’t. He always looked angry even when he wasn’t, and he cursed loudly in the most inappropriate places. Nothing about Feng Xin was perfect, but Mu Qing wanted him. He’d wanted him forever.
With a harsh breath, Mu Qing turned to glare at the door, half-expecting Feng Xin to appear behind him. He almost wished that he would, if only to put Mu Qing out of his misery. “Xie Lian. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“You won’t,” Xie Lian reassured, so annoying confident that Mu Qing just had to roll his eyes again.
“And how the hell do you know that, hm?” Mu Qing didn’t mean to inject so much vitriol into his words, but how could he remain calm with the way his blood screamed through his veins?
“Because you’ve forgotten something, and I haven’t?” Xie Lian sounded like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and Mu Qing felt the knot in his chest begin to unravel at his friend’s familiar tone.
“Well? What is it?”
“You’re not the only one who’s been waiting a long time for this.”
Mu Qing’s pacing abruptly stopped, and he felt as though he’d just crashed into a solid wall of sound logic. Winded, he sucked in a ragged breath and closed his eyes. Right. How could he have forgotten? This wasn’t a one-sided relationship. Mu Qing wasn’t alone.
Feng Xin was right there too. The slip had been all him, and it had sounded so natural. Both instinctive and impulsive, just like Feng Xin. So why had Mu Qing been so worried he hadn’t meant it? Why was he so afraid that Feng Xin didn’t love him?
If anybody was stupid enough to love him, it was Feng Xin.
“… Xie Lian.”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
A hum, quiet and delighted. “Anytime, Mu Qing.”
They said their goodbyes, and then Mu Qing stared at the phone for a long moment. Feng Xin hadn’t tried to text or call him, hadn’t even let him know that he’d left the store, and Mu Qing couldn’t help but wonder what was taking him so long. He kept expecting Feng Xin to barge into the apartment and demand to know why Mu Qing had—
Dammit. He’d hung up on him, hadn’t he? And right after Feng Xin had doubled down on his affections.
No wonder Feng Xin was taking so long. He also probably thought he was coming home to a fight.
With a roll of his eyes, Mu Qing opened up their chat window and started typing. Idiot, are you planning to leave me alone on our anniversary? You promised me a night to remember, and I’m changing the locks on you if you fail.
A little harsh, but Feng Xin would get the point quicker if Mu Qing gave him an ultimatum. Satisfied, Mu Qing hit send, and then he left his phone on the counter while he made himself busy tidying up the kitchen. The space was already clean, save for the few dishes they’d used today, so that only occupied his attention for a moment.
Feng Xin hadn’t answered his text. Mu Qing doubted that he would. He hadn’t asked for a response. He’d asked for his stupid boyfriend to come home.
But Feng Xin was, if nothing else, unquestionably obedient. Even when he didn’t want to do something, he always caved if he thought it was something that Mu Qing really wanted. And if Mu Qing wanted him home? Then of course it wouldn’t take long for the door to open, filling the quiet space of their apartment with the rustle of plastic and the shuffle of feet.
A moment later, the door slammed shut with an echoing thud and an accompanying shit. Feng Xin had kicked it. Again. Mu Qing rolled his eyes.
Instead of rehashing the old argument, Mu Qing turned around to fix his boyfriend with a judgmental stare. As expected, Feng Xin still stood in the entryway, looking both endearing and ridiculous. His arms were so filled with grocery bags that he could hardly move, and his fingers and wrists were already growing red from the lack of circulation. Regardless, he made no move to set the bags down. He kept his eyes resolutely on the floor, though Mu Qing could see the way his brow had pinched into a deep furrow that would have seemed furious to anybody else.
Mu Qing put in the effort to look beneath the surface, to spy the fear lurking beneath that almost perpetual scowl, and he couldn’t believe how stupid they both had been.
“Put those down, would you?” Without waiting, Mu Qing walked over and began to remove the bags himself. One after another, he set them on the floor to be carried into the kitchen once this conversation had finished. “You always insist on carrying too many bags at once. Wouldn’t it be easier to make two trips? Or must you always flex those ridiculous muscles of yours even when it’s not strictly necessary?”
Feng Xin still didn’t speak. Somehow, his brow furrowed even more, and his throat bobbed over a hard swallow. Mu Qing finished stealing their groceries away from him, and then he reached for one of Feng Xin’s hands, kneading his fingers into tan skin to massage the feeling back into his fingers.
Under his careful treatment, Feng Xin stilled, almost as if he hadn’t expected to be handled so gently. His gaze lifted from the floor at last, but it was Mu Qing’s turn to chicken out. He kept his eyes on Feng Xin’s hands, big and strong and utterly pliant for him to move as he saw fit.
“While I was waiting for you to come home, I talked to Xie Lian.”
Feng Xin took a deep, resigned breath, steeling himself for a blow that Mu Qing would never make. “And?”
“And he corrected me about something.” Mu Qing felt his throat tighten, but he swallowed down the returning fear that Feng Xin hadn’t meant what he’d said. He had an easier time now that he had Feng Xin within reach, tensed and ready for Mu Qing to break up with him. “He told me what I should have said on the phone today when you dropped your impromptu confession.”
“What… what is it? Spit it out!” Feng Xin cleared his throat, defaulting on familiar defensiveness in the face of what he anticipated to be the end of everything. Mu Qing almost kissed him then, kissed him stupid so he’d stop jumping to conclusions. Didn’t he know that it was Mu Qing’s job to assume the worst of everything?
But Mu Qing had done this, so it was up to him to fix it, too. Even as fresh panic spread through his veins, even as his tongue grew heavy, even as his grip tightened around Feng Xin’s wrist until it likely hurt—
Feng Xin deserved an answer, an end to his misery, and Mu Qing was determined to give it to him.
“I—I love you too,” said Mu Qing, much too quiet at first.
That wouldn’t do! What if Feng Xin didn’t hear him? What if the dumbass thought he didn’t mean it because he didn’t sound convincing enough? Stupid Feng Xin.
“I love you too,” Mu Qing said again, louder, but his words still trembled, still threatened to break.
Dammit! How many times would it take until he was satisfied with his own damn confession?
“I love you too! You idiot!” Smacking Feng Xin’s gorgeous chest helped, which he did several times to get his point across. Now that his mouth had started moving, he couldn’t seem to make it stop, each word more incensed than the last. “Of course I love you! Of course I do! But you had to go and say it over the phone like it was an accident, and that scared the hell out of me, you goddamn, motherfucking—”
Feng Xin abruptly yanked him into his arms, the press of his mouth silencing the rest of Mu Qing’s tirade. One hand cupped his cheek, directing him closer, while the other gripped Mu Qing’s waist tightly as if to keep him from trying to escape. Mu Qing muffled a complaint against those lips, but he couldn’t keep himself from melting against Feng Xin’s solid chest, the stress from the day crumbling away until Mu Qing had almost forgotten what he’d been so worried about. He let himself be kissed until their lungs burned, until they had to break for air shared between them while Feng Xin pressed their foreheads together.
“For the record, I do love you, Mu Qing. I really love you.”
“I know that,” Mu Qing muttered as he glared off to the side, his cheeks blooming with humiliating warmth. “Couldn’t you have been a little more romantic about it? Seriously, Feng Xin? Over the phone?”
“What about you? You started hitting me! I doubt Xie Lian gave you that advice!”
“It was implied. Besides, you made me wait for you!”
“You hung up on me!”
“You confessed your undying love to me for the first time over the phone! Is that how you’re planning on proposing too? Off-handed, in the middle of the grocery store while I remind you for the seventh time to bring home rice?”
Feng Xin’s brown eyes widened in surprise, and it took Mu Qing a moment to realize what had just come out of his mouth. Shit. He tried to squirm away, but Feng Xin held him fast.
“Propose? Mu Qing, do you want me to propose?” Feng Xin’s voice wavered with barely concealed excitement, and the sound of it sapped the fight right out of Mu Qing’s bones as quickly as it had arrived.
“Not right now! Obviously!” he spat, not too keen on the idea of another misunderstanding so soon after they’d resolved the last one.
“But you do want me to? Someday?” Feng Xin pressed, a little desperate.
“I mean—marriage is the last step in a relationship, isn’t it? I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t plan on marrying your stupid ass someday.” Every instinct inside Mu Qing screamed at him for exhibiting such vulnerability, but one glance at Feng Xin’s awestruck expression gave him the confidence he needed to stand his ground, to raise his eyebrow and smirk in the way that he knew would make Feng Xin’s blood boil. “Don’t you want to get married someday?”
Feng Xin stared at him for a moment, his mouth gaping and his eyes blown wide with wonder and affection, and then he was surging back in to capture Mu Qing’s mouth in a searing kiss. Strong hands squeezed his waist before hoisting him upward, forcing him to wrap his arms and legs around Feng Xin to stabilize himself. The bastard was built like a fucking tree, so Mu Qing had plenty to hold onto, plenty for his wandering hands to appreciate as Feng Xin carried them away from the doorway and further into the apartment.
“Yes,” Feng Xin gasped between fervent kisses. “Yes, I want to marry you. My proposal will be so fucking amazing, even you won’t be able to bitch about it.”
“You say that now, but I bet you’ll be proposing over the phone within a week.”
Feng Xin rewarded him with a bite to the lip for that, but the dumbass soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue and another easy kiss. A wave of affection swept over Mu Qing, dizzying him, and he fought to keep himself afloat.
“What are you doing?” Mu Qing demanded, breathless himself. When Feng Xin ducked his head to kiss along his jaw, Mu Qing only tilted his head to allow easier access. His skin tingled, and he dragged his nails along Feng Xin’s scalp in loving retaliation. “You oaf, the groceries are still on the floor.”
“The groceries can wait,” Feng Xin grumbled as he dropped Mu Qing on the bed, quickly following so he could connect their lips again.
Mu Qing turned his head to avoid the kiss, but Feng Xin took this in stride. He mouthed his way down Mu Qing’s throat as if starved for him, and Mu Qing couldn’t help but huff in fond exasperation. “I still expect dinner sometime today.”
“You’ll get it,” Feng Xin swore as he began to tug at Mu Qing’s shirt. “Let’s celebrate our anniversary first. Let me show you how much I love you properly.”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, but really, how could he say no to that? Whatever. He would enjoy making Feng Xin go back to the store to replace the groceries he’d ruined with his relentless enthusiasm.
Maybe Mu Qing would even manage to get a proposal out of him.
