Work Text:
“Mu Qing”, Feng Xin calls out, already standing in the doorway, keys in his hand and ready to leave. He looks at the clock and almost catches himself rolling his eyes when he realizes that they might just barely make it in time, a bit too stressed to realize that his boyfriends habit seems to have rub off on him.
“Calm down, we still have time”, Mu Qing answers from the bedroom, currently looking at his reflection in the mirror, checking his outfit. “I don’t want to be late”, Feng Xin sighs, making his way through the apartment to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small frown on his face.
Mu Qing knows they still have enough time, so he rolls his eyes at him. “Shut up, I need to find something to match this ugly ass shirt of yours”, he says but Feng Xin knows it’s all bark and no bite.
Mu Qing likes to complain about Feng Xin’s jersey a lot, about how ugly the colour is, about how it’s too big (“of course it is, it’s mine and my shoulders are broader than yours” Feng Xin has said to which Mu Qing only replied with a sarcastic “Did I ask?”).
No matter how many times he’s been to one of Feng Xins matches, he never fails to complain about it and yet there hasn’t been even one of those that he didn’t wear either a shirt or a hoodie with the name Feng and the number 08 on its back (he may even make sure to wear multiple layers of clothes with the hoodie on top when it’s cold during the match just to make sure that Feng Xins name is always visible but of course he wouldn’t admit to that if he ever got called out for it).
Feng Xin even caught Mu Qing wearing one of these shirts he hated so much when he found him cuddled up in the living room after he got back from the last training camp. Saying that his heart almost melted when he saw Mu Qing like that would be an understatement.
Feng Xin lets his eyes wander over his boyfriend’s frame, once again asking himself how a person can be as beautiful as his Mu Qing, a small and loving smile finding its way to his lips. “What are you looking at?”, Mu Qing asks sceptically, raising one of his perfectly sculptured eyebrows, mirroring Feng Xin’s stance, crossing his arms above his chest.
“I’m looking at you”, Feng Xin easily answers, putting his hands on Mu Qing’s hips while moving closer so he’s standing right in front of him. “You’re beautiful”, he says, leaning in for a small kiss that Mu Qing happily accepts, his cheeks painted in a small blush.
“As much as I’d love to continue this, we should really go now” Feng Xin says, disturbing the moment to which Mu Qing rolls his eyes again, shoving him out of the way so he can look at the mirror again. It’s then that Feng Xin realizes that Mu Qing isn’t wearing makeup today. Not that he needs to, of course, even in his worst state he’s still the most beautiful person in the whole universe. It’s just something he sometimes does. When he doesn’t feel like adding accessories that match Feng Xin’s team colours, he chooses to add little matching accents to his makeup (which is absolutely adorable if you ask Feng Xin but when asked about it, Mu Qing just rolls his eyes, talking about how it’s coincidental and how he’s got better stuff to do than to think about how to match Feng Xin’s stupid team).
Mu Qing picks up one of the yellow bands that Feng Xin usually uses to tie his hair in a messy bun and that he keeps on leaving all around the house and uses it to tie a cute ribbon at the top the high ponytail holding most of his long hair together, a few of the shorter parts on the front framing his face.
“So, let’s leave”, he says after fixing said front pieces, eyebrow raised when Feng Xin just keeps staring at him. It takes him a second to catch himself. “Jup, beautiful”, he repeats, taking Mu Qing’s hand in his and picking up his sports bag on the way out.
The drive is mostly quiet, broken by Mu Qing softly humming along to the tunes coming out of the radio and Feng Xin’s fingertips rhythmic tipping the beat on the steering wheel.
It’s only when they’re parking that they start talking again after Feng Xin sees Mu Qing judging some of the fans walking across the parking lot. He mumbles something along the lines of “the match doesn’t even start for another hour, why are there already so many people”.
Actually, Mu Qing knows exactly what they’re that early for but that’s exactly why he’s getting annoyed by them.
They get out of the car and before they can make their way over to the changing room Feng Xin takes a hold of Mu Qing’s hand who stops in his tracks to look at him, a puzzled look on his face. “Thank you”, Feng Xin says, a sincere smile on his face.
He knows that Mu Qing can be pretty introverted sometimes and he knows that he wouldn’t go to a place like this if it wasn’t for him. Mu Qing being Mu Qing however just replies that he’s only here to laugh at Feng Xin because apparently his face “looks funny when he’s concentrating”, despite knowing that there’s no truth to his words.
Mu Qing loves seeing Feng Xin’s concentrated look during his matches. He loves everything about it, how he furrows his brows, his confident smile when things go the way he planned, the sparkle in his eyes, the pure joy he radiates (how hot he looks when his muscles are display, his jersey clinging to his body because of the sweat).
It’s a short walk to the changing rooms so it only takes them a minute or two to get there. Usually, Mu Qing would give Feng Xin a quick good luck kiss and make his way over to save a seat with a good view, knowing that Feng Xin likes to have some alone time before a match to focus on his breathing to focus.
Today, however, he seems to be a bit restless, playing with one of Mu Qing’s rings, the fidget one (that he may or may not have bought because he thought it’d help Feng Xin when he’s getting nervous or anxious).
He turns around when they’re in front of the changing rooms, facing Feng Xin, taking hold of both of his hands. “Don’t worry, you got this”, he says, giving Feng Xin a gentle smile that’s only reserved for him. It instantly helps him calm down, grounds him.
Feng Xin moves a step closer and rests his forehead against Mu Qing’s, his eyes closed, and tries to focus on his breathing. After a few minutes he lifts his head, a thankful smile on his face that shows Mu Qing that he’s okay now and that he can find a seat. And Mu Qing wouldn’t be Mu Qing if he didn’t whisper, "You get a kiss for every point you make today”, into his ears, leaving a quick peck on his cheeks before turning around with a smirk that Feng Xin answers with a grin of his own.
Since there’s still some time before the match starts it’s not too hard to find a good seat that allows Mu Qing to see most of the field while still sitting in the front row. He busies himself by looking at his phone, mindlessly scrolling through social media.
He doesn’t have to look up to see when the players arrive, the high-pitched screaming to his left tells him enough to know what’s up. He fucking knew it, that’s why most of the people that arrived early are women.
Don’t get him wrong, it’s not like he doesn’t understand.
Before each match the teams have some time to prepare and warm up and yes, they’re easy on the eye, we’re talking about healthy, young men that (obviously) work out on a regular basis. But that’s also the reason why it annoys him to no end.
He tries to ignore the squeals he can hear from those girls, he’s used to people reacting like that as soon as Feng Xin’s team arrives but it kind of bugs him more today.
Mu Qing knows that there’s no reason to get jealous or insecure, he’s confident, not only in himself but also in their relationship. But when he hears those girls talking about how “good that guy with the number 08 looks” (in addition to some not so innocent comments), he is close to losing his patience. It’s when one of the girls claims that she is going to get his number after this match that Mu Qing decides that enough is enough.
It’s easy. He just has to stand up and get closer to the small fence they use to close off the field. It just so happens that Feng Xin is done with his warmup, so he immediately jogs over to where Mu Qing is.
As he walks over Mu Qing can, once again, hear the girls talking about him, not realizing that he’s looking at Mu Qing as he does, squeaking because they’re sure he’s coming over to talk to them.
Mu Qing rolls his eyes at them, only relaxing when Feng Xin puts his hand over his, which, as he just realizes, had been curled up into a fist.
“You found a good place this time”, he says to which Mu Qing just hmm’s. He contemplates on what to do for a second and just decides that, fuck it, if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it the right way.
So he grabs the hem of Feng Xin’s shirt and pulls him close, their noses almost touching. There’s a glint in his eyes that Feng Xin knows too well, he knows that glint and the smirk that accompanies, it’s what Mu Qing looks like when he decides to be a little shit. So really, it shouldn’t take Feng Xin by surprise when Mu Qing puts his finger on his chin to tilt his head up, meeting his eyes.
“Just so you know”, Mu Qing starts, making a show of caressing Feng Xin’s cheek, “if you lose, I’m dumping you.”
Since Feng Xin knows that Mu Qing isn’t serious, that he’s just trying to rile him up, he smirks back at him. “I’d love to see you try princess”, he answers, closing the distance between them to give his boyfriend a soft kiss.
It looks like that was the right way to react since Feng Xin can feel Mu Qing relaxing into the kiss.
It’s the call of Feng Xin’s teammates that pulls them apart. The match is about to start. “I wouldn’t dare lose a game when I’ve got my personal cheerleader to support me”, Feng Xin yells over his shoulder while running to where his team is waiting for him, knowing that he can annoy Mu Qing by using that nickname.
Mu Qing can’t help but smile. “Dumbass!”, he yells back before moving back to where he’s been sitting before, noticing the jealous way the group of girls look at him while he does so and honestly, he’s loving every second of it.
The match goes by surprisingly fast. Feng Xin’s team is on a roll, all the members seemingly in top condition. Despite having no real interest in the game itself Mu Qing makes sure to scream his heart out to support Feng Xin (he’d never admit to that out loud though, screaming like that doesn’t match his image after all).
It’s obvious that things are not going to get messy when someone in the audience starts to lose his patience, seemingly annoyed that the other team isn’t doing as good as Feng Xin’s today.
Mu Qing rolls his eyes and thinks that that’s exactly why they should stop selling alcohol at places like this. Sport maniacs are a weird species in general and by how invested they get when watching matches it’s just plain stupid to add alcohol to that equation.
Mu Qing decides to ignore him, at first. It doesn’t have anything to do with him and he’s gained enough experience ignoring Pei Ming boast about his flings to not be bothered by annoying people.
He can hear that guy badmouthing Feng Xin’s team which, sure, is rude and annoying, but also kind of normal to hear from a guy that obviously supports the other team. So he just turns around and gives him a cold and mildly annoyed look.
The man catches his eye and despite trying to hide it, is taken aback by the glint in Mu Qing’s eyes.
“What?!”, he spits out, trying to intimidate Mu Qing and failing in doing so.
Mu Qing just raises his eyebrow at him, not hiding his distaste and turns around, throwing his long hair over his shoulder while clicking his tongue. He shouldn’t make a big deal out of this, he doesn’t want to cause a disturbance after all.
A minute more, two at max, is what it takes for Mu Qing to throw that resolution out of the window. “Fuck this”, he thinks, “Fuck patience.”
Mu Qing, who’s been one of the few people sitting down until now, raises from his seat and turns his head back, his eyes finding that man sitting a few rows behind him, who’s been talking shit for the last ten minutes.
“What did you just say?!”, he asks him, arms crossed, looking at him like he’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen.
“What’s it got to do with you? You friends with that guy huh?”, the guy yells, an obvious slur to his words that proves just how much he’s been drinking. Mu Qing looks at him, thinking about whether the consequences of punching that guy are worth the satisfaction it’d give him.
The man, however, seems to have taken Mu Qing’s silence as a que to make even nastier remarks, cursing about how the team is cheating, how it doesn’t make sense for them to have this many points, that there’s no way it’s a fair match and he doesn’t stop there. All kinds of profanities leave his mouth, most of them directed at “that fucker with the number eight on his back”.
That’s what tipped Mu Qing over the edge in the first place. He can handle people cursing at a team when they’re losing against them, that’s fine with him. But targeting Feng Xin without a reason and cursing at him? Hell no!
Mu Qing is damn close to losing all his inhibitions and straight up committing murder, not caring about the eyewitnesses.
“Listen you stupid fuck”, he starts, his voice colder than ice as he stares him down, “Let me hear you say even one more bad word about number 08 and I’ll help you shut that mouth”, he says, eyes burning with anger.
The man tries again, despite obviously being intimidated. “What’s it to you, huh? You with that dumbass?”, he yells to which Mu Qing snorts.
“Yes, that’s my dumbass you’re talking about asshole and I’m the only one who gets to curse at him, so shut up or I’ll gladly make you”, Mu Qing yells back. He’s noticed before, that Feng Xin’s vocabulary seems to have rubbed off to him, especially when he’s angry.
It seems like that guy is about to walk over to Mu Qing to see whether he’d really start a fight with him (he totally would, he’d gladly punch some sense into that fucker), when the person next to him, who until now has acted like they’re strangers, pulls him down, hushing him, telling him to calm down and to drink some water.
They shoot Mu Qing an apologetic smile.
Despite Mu Qing’s urge to land at least one good hit at that guy he turns around and takes a deep breath. He makes sure to root for Feng Xin even louder after that, just to annoy that stupid fucker who, to his surprise, stays quiet for the rest of the match.
Mu Qing almost wishes for him to start an argument again just so he’s got a reason to punch him. It doesn’t happen though.
The match, however, ends with Feng Xin’s team having more than double the other team’s points, most of them thanks to Feng Xin himself. Mu Qing makes sure to send a victorious smile his way when they announce the winner.
Without further ado Mu Qing makes his way to the changing room, knowing that Feng Xin is going to meet him there as soon as he’s allowed to leave the field. Mu Qing’s had enough of other people for the day.
He doesn’t have to wait long until he’s lifted off his feet by a grinning Feng Xin.
If Feng Xin heard Mu Qing’s surprised squeal, he’s nice enough to not comment on it, content with softly letting him slip into his arms, kissing his cheek. “Thanks for cheering for me!”, he beams to which Mu Qing blushes.
Not knowing how to react he does the first thing that comes to his mind, which is pushing Feng Xin away, barely using any power at all, and yelling at him not to touch him. “You’re sweaty, get off me you brute”, he says. While rolling his eyes he adds ”And I didn’t cheer for you, I came to heckle!!”
Feng Xin, despite Mu Qing’s (fake) protest, hugs him closer, nuzzling his face in his neck and putting a small kiss there.
He knows that Mu Qing may act like this now, but whenever he’s on the field Mu Qing is always the one to scream the loudest, his cheers easily overpowering all the other voices.
“So, about that promise from earlier...” Feng Xin starts off, smiling at Mu Qing in that special Feng Xin way that always makes him melt.
“Not here dumbass”, Mu Qing shushes him, hitting his shoulder, barely able to conceal the dreamy smile that’s tugging on his lips.
Who cares if he’s got to fight stupid drunk dudes or squealing girls and who cares about how much he likes to complain about Feng Xin’s matches.
As long as that’s going to allow him to be with Feng Xin like this, to support him in what he loves, to see him glow like this, he’s willing to do it again and again.