Chapter Text
They barely had enough time to share looks of disbelief before the presentation started. By the time an hour had passed and Feng Xin had learned that he really hated business, the tables had been set with the first course. He didn't think of her. The entire time that he'd been pretending to listen, he'd thought of Mu Qing, the way he'd frozen in her place, the way his ice wall had crafted itself so perfectly that he was reminded of when they were just teenagers again. He thought of the way it had looked like Mu Qing was leaning in for a kiss outside the balcony.
Without the promise of sex, didn't a kiss say everything? Or would Mu Qing just play it off as part of the act if he'd been given the chance? Maybe he'd just meant to lean in to keep anyone else from looking their way.
The seating situation wasn't great. Mica and Lionel sat across from them, Jian Lan and her date, on the other side of the circular table.
Mu Qing raised another glass of champagne to his lips and downed it.
"My love," he whispered, just in case someone heard," would you like some water?"
"No," Mu Qing said back.
"I thought the presentation was rather lacking," Lionel informed to no one in particular," but he did bring up a few good points. We could increase our sales by 25% with the west side alone if we pushed for alternative routes."
Mica put a hand to his arm," Please, I've heard enough of statistics. Wouldn't you rather get to know everyone?"
Lionel chuckled, raising a glass," Apologies. Do you all know each other then?"
"I can't say I've had the privilege," Liu Mu, who had an arm thrown across Jian Lan, eyed Mu Qing from his place with a low smirk," I do recognize our new receptionist, of course. Pleasant to the eyes, as always."
Mu Qing almost spit back into his cup, but he was graceful, cleared his throat gently.
"I was curious," Mica started," why the boyfriend of a man whose father is the Feng Rui is working as a receptionist, but I didn't want to sound rude."
Feng Xin caught the fingers clenching along Mu Qing's thigh and dropped his own hand, squeezing his. He wasn't wrong. These people were vipers.
"Isn't it obvious?" Feng Xin asked.
Everyone looked to him, and Jian Lang's eyes lit with interest.
"Isn't it too easy to live off of someone else's success? He could have everything in the world if he only asked, but he'd grow bored soon enough," Feng Xin ran a thumb across Mu Qing's hand in soft, slow circles," It's one of the reasons why I fell in love with him. Unlike... many people here, he'd rather experience the struggle of taking steps than not at all."
Mica's smile faltered. Of course, it did. While she had a high position, she relied heavily on Lionel to continue her high maintenance lifestyle.
In response, she lifted her glass," To each their own."
He, again, felt Jian Lan's gaze and tried to remind himself not to reveal too much. She knew the truth. She could out them at any moment. It didn't seem like it was her intention, but six years could change a lot about a person and they hadn't exactly left on the best note.
Over the course of the night Feng Xin took control of any conversation directed their way. Once, Lionel pressed again about his father, and that was the only time Mu Qing actively led to change the topic. For the most part though, the man was awfully quiet. He knew it had something to do with Jian Lan, he just wasn't sure what.
Everything that had happened in the past had been a bit complicated.
"Wait, so you're saying you two already know each other?"
Jian Lan nodded once," Yes, you could say that Feng Xin and I were very close childhood friends."
"That's sweet," Mica said, not sounding like she cared.
"Do you still see Xie Lan these days?" Jian Lan asked.
Feng Xin broke his gaze from Mu Qing and lifted his head," We still talk. He's on vacation right now, but I'm sure he'd enjoy seeing you again."
"Yes, that would be nice. I'd like to get together sometime."
Mu Qing finished another glass, and had yet to touch his dessert. When Mica asked someone else a probing question, Feng Xin took the break to whisper to him in concern.
"Do you want to leave now?"
"Why?" he whispered back," You seem to be enjoying yourself."
Feng Xin shifted in his chair and very quickly said," It's getting late. While it was nice speaking to you all, I have other matters to attend to tonight."
He pressed a hand to the back of Mu Qing's chair," My love?"
Mu Qing moved to follow, taking the arm that was offered.
"You two make such a lovely couple," Jian Lan informed, but there was something strange to her gaze that he couldn’t decipher.
"Don't forget about mentioning me to your father," Lionel said.
"Of course."
Mu Qing was quiet during the ride home, but it was to be expected. He thanked Yin Yu, and then went up to their apartment feeling like a complete failure. This whole night he was supposed to be proving something, and while Mu Qing had been grateful for his help the smile he'd allowed to surface outside that balcony was replaced by a thin line.
Mu Qing undid the tie from his hair and let out a long sigh.
"I need a new job."
Feng Xin met his gaze as he turned. There was no fire of a hidden rage in the darkness of his eyes, or even the cold waters he often found himself drowning in. It was quieter, thoughtful and then it wasn't.
He stepped into Feng Xin's space, lifted his chin as fingers came to fuss with the opening of his suit.
"Did you enjoy seeing her?" he asked.
"Who? Jian Lan?"
There was a fire, but it wasn't rage. Feng Xin wasn't sure if this was some kind of test, but he answered honestly.
"It was tiring me out," he admitted," Next time we go out to dinner, maybe we can skip all the extra people."
Mu Qing's fingers dropped. They slid down his chest, a thumb teased one of his buttons as he leant forward.
"Would you like to take me out to dinner?" he asked.
"Would you say yes?"
Mu Qing was an enigma. Feng Xin could never know what words set him off, which ones he wanted to actually hear. And his responses, sometimes, seemed so far from the tone that Feng Xin was often left in shock.
"Feng Xin," he said, whispering low,” Stop holding back. You can… tell me what you want.”
Before Feng Xin could even comprehend the reality of the situation, Mu Qing pressed him back into the couch. He dropped, eyes widening in realization. He meant sex. He’d almost thought-
“You’re always so gentle. You can order me around, you know?” He dropped into his lap, lips parting close enough for a kiss, only to whisper into his mouth,” You could make me take you raw.”
Feng Xin felt his lips against his, only for a moment before they were pressed against his neck as curious hands started undoing buttons with ease. His own came to rest against the lower part of Mu Qing’s back, tightening in the fabric when his tongue darted across his skin.
”Ah- Are you sure you’re okay?” Feng Xin asked.
“I like it when you leave marks. Did you know that? You can leave more when you put it in.”
”Mu Qing-“
His tongue was replaced with teeth. He bit down hard, sucking into his skin, lapping his tongue over with a moan that vibrated through both their bodies. Mu Qing was leaving a mark. The thought alone destroyed any sane thought. How could he ask now, whatever it was that was on Mu Qing’s mind? How could he think when he was rolling back onto him, making such pretty noises like he needed it more than anything?
“Are you-“ fuck, he was already hard,” Don’t you want to talk?”
Mu Qing reached down to play with the button of his pants. His fingers caressed him through the fabric, squeezing gently.
“I’d rather you fuck me until I can’t anymore.”
Shit, he could do that too.
“What’s your safe word?” Feng Xin asked.
Mu Qing’s warm breath tickled his ear.
”Coconut.”
Feng Xin turned them into the sofa, and Mu Qing’s back hit the cushion as Feng Xin maneuvered over him, one hand pressed beside his head, the other slipping underneath his shirt. He leaned down to kiss him, teasing his bottom lip with tongue until the man obeyed and opened his mouth.
When he released him, Feng Xin stared down at him, his pretty half lidded gaze.
”Good,” he said,” be good for me and remember that.”
In the dim light of the morning, Feng Xin blinked back the fogginess of past memories warped by dreams. He wasn't sure when they'd finally passed out, only remembered the way Mu Qing had spilled notes as Feng Xin played every part of his body. He'd asked a couple times, whether or not he could continue, but Mu Qing had only sobbed into him, a trembling mess that he'd wanted more. It had been the first time that they'd slept together, that Mu Qing hadn't seemed willing to let go.
It had been the first time that Feng Xin had no barrier as he was consumed by Mu Qing's heat. It had been the first that when they finished, Mu Qing refused to be cleaned.
"Tomorrow," he'd whispered, chest rising with his slowing breaths. His eyes had almost closed, body heavy against the mattress, Feng Xin's mess mixed with the lube trailing down his thigh.
Feng Xin peered over at the still sleeping beauty. The sheets were tucked into his waist, bare torso painted in bites and bruises. Feng Xin reached out, only to stop before the marks along his neck, the ones that he'd begged for, a dark reminder against his pale skin. Feng Xin shifted to lie on his stomach, fingers curling underneath it.
Had he messed up? There had obviously been something else on Mu Qing's mind last night, but if he knew one thing about the man, it was that if he didn't want to talk that nothing would make him.
Feng Xin didn't know how much longer he could love him and not say a word, not slip and give it away. Even this, stretching to cup his cheek, acting as if he merely wanted to push hair from his face was a dangerous risk. He wanted to kiss him awake. He wanted to ask what he'd been about to say on the balcony.
There were three frantic knocks on his front door.
"Fucking hell," he muttered.
He only threw on some sweats, careful to shut the door quiet enough to not wake Mu Qing. It was eight in the morning, who the hell was interrupting their peace?!
"Well, well," his mother said," were you planning on showing up at all?"
Feng Xin's eyes widened, brought a hand to cover his body as if she hadn't been the one to birth him herself. She held tight to a bag full of cartons of food, pushed past him with a shake of the head.
"You're lucky we closed today," she shifted the bags onto the counter," There was a plumbing issue. No worries though, I called my neighbor. He's a very-"
She froze when she turned, mouth agape, eyes wide in horror before a small hand came to smack him across the arm.
"You!" She yelled," You had one date with the man and you have the mark of defilement! Don't tell me you pressured that poor boy with your dumb little lines-"
"Ma," he said urgently," It's just a hickey."
"Just a hickey?" And then more things caught her gaze. Slow realization dawned. She looked to the clothes piled on the floor in front of the couch, the pair of shoes that were most definitely not Feng Xin's. "... He is still here."
Feng Xin laughed, a little nervously," It's not like that. You raised your son right. We didn't do anything that wasn't-" gods, he wished he'd at least had coffee before this conversation," He's always here. We've been living together for a while now."
"Living together..."
"Yes," he said," We just didn't want to mention it. It's a very personal thing. You know how his parents are."
His mother eyed the bedroom door and then her son. After a moment, she smoothed the arm of her jacket, shaking her head in disbelief.
"And you haven't even proposed yet," she muttered to herself," for years you two have been in love, and what do you have to show for yourself? I feel terrible for him, really. All the flirting, and now your defilement mark and this poor boy is stuck with a ringless finger. It shames us. You have all the time in the world. You could be engaged for years, but at least-"
She stopped abruptly.
"I made you breakfast. Make sure he eats," she turned her head away from the living space and turned to leave. "We will be talking more about this."
Feng Xin stared at the door when it closed.
For years?! When had she come up with that idea? And why had she left so suddenly?
He ran a hand across his face, checked through the food, everything that had been prepared, most likely saved before the plumbing issue. She'd only meant for the best, but it was still a little frustrating. He couldn't just outright tell her the situation, but he also couldn't let her keep believing that the two would eventually be engaged.
Out of curiosity, he glanced at the hallway mirror and arched his neck.
He'd definitely left a mark of defilement as she'd called. The idea in itself, while inconvenient, had him biting back a grin.
Eventually the morning light was bright enough that he didn't have to turn his own on. The moment he'd heard the shower running, Feng Xin set to heating up the food and placing it on the small dining room table. He made Mu Qing the tea he liked, only when he heard the water turn off, so it was still fresh and hot. A part of him was worried. Mu Qing had asked for a lot of things last night, and he wasn't sure how it would affect him now. Did he regret not using a condom? Or allowing Feng Xin to mark him up like a canvas?
He situated into a seat like a child waiting a reprimand from a teacher.
Mu Qing came out, wet hair wrapped high in a towel. He was wearing one of Feng Xin's shirts again, the one he often wore to bed now. It dropped across his collar bone, trickles of water still collecting from the strands of hair peeking out from the towel onto his skin.
"You ordered food?"
Feng Xin raised his mug," Mom brought it over. Sit. You're probably starving, right?"
He didn't add,' because of all the calories we burnt doing it more than once last night.'
Mu Qing sat in the chair across from him, taking the mug offered, inhaling its scent with a sigh of relief. Feng Xin really couldn't tell what sort of mood he was in yet.
"Xie Lan gets back today," Feng Xin informed, trying for casual, though he really would have to wear a turtle neck if he wanted to be seen by anyone for a few days. Feng Xin didn't mind his own mark. In fact, he'd readily show everyone if the man wasn't so worried about people connecting the dots. "I was thinking we all get together to choose the same electives. We might as well get it out of the way."
"Fine," Mu Qing said, sounding tired," I don't have anything else planned."
"..." Feng Xin picked at his food," How did you sleep?"
"Fine."
"Is there something wrong?"
Mu Qing lowered his tea to the table. He took a moment before he answered the question, and when he did, he narrowed his gaze at Feng Xin, like it should be obvious enough.
"You tell me."
"Huh?"
"Jian Lan-" Mu Qing took in an audible breath," I just need to know whether or not we're going to continue sleeping together now that your first love is possibly back in the picture. If not, I'll have to find a replacement."
A replacement.
Would it really be that easy for Mu Qing?
He felt like all the warmth of their nights had been stripped away. Is that all it was to him? Nothing more than getting off out of convienence? He felt sick. Stupid.
"I don't know yet," Feng Xin said," but when I do, you'll be the first I’ll tell.”
Mu Qing raised his mug as if to toast, a thin smile," That's all I can ask."
What the fuck, Mu Qing?
Feng Xin really didn't know him at all.