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Chapter Text

The human body reacts in a number of different ways to a number of different stimuli, sometimes in ways we expect, but more often, in ways we don’t expect. Much to his dismay, at the moment, his body was reacting in a way he never thought it would, placed in a situation he never thought he would find himself in.

All Mu Qing could hear echoing throughout the room was his own heavy breathing. All his mind could focus on was that ragged, sporadic sound coming from his own mouth in a voice he couldn’t recognize as his own. He might’ve been able to tune it out if there was anything else he was willing to focus on. With the blindfold wrapped securely around his face, there was nothing in his sight to focus on, the room was absent of any particular smell, sterile yet eerily foreign. With no particular taste in his mouth to take him out of the moment, he decided to hone his senses in on the least disturbing thing around him. He’d rather not pay attention to the feeling of leather on his ankles, scared of accidentally flinching them and disturbing the spreader bar keeping them apart, afraid of the noise that would subsequently echo through, what he could only assume given his limited vision, the mostly empty room and what that would remind him of. He’d rather not pay attention to the subtle tension around his neck, keeping everything above his shoulders frozen in fear, scared of how it might tighten if he were to move, afraid of the same reminder this would bring to his attention.

He had no way out of this.

He was at the mercy of someone. What was even worse than this realization he’d had what felt like days ago, but had likely only been hours given the lack of increased hunger in his gut, was the realization that followed it, that he was at someone’s mercy, and who that someone was, he had no clue.

The thing he was least willing to focus on was the faint feeling and sound of buzzing from somewhere he had managed to, by now, convince himself, was unlikely to be where he thought he felt it coming from, lower than his naval, above his thighs, and from there he refused to pondering such an idea. He’d rather focus on the sound of his ragged breathing echoing through the space around him.

It is likely because of how honed his senses are to that sound, that Mu Qing flinches, despite the continuous unsettled state, present everywhere from his core to extremities, despite its swirling and tightening, at the subtle sound of shuffling steps. The sound of shoes being taken off. The boldly taken steps of a body trained in both stealth and strength. Eager to take his mind off his own body, especially after his jolt had shifted the bindings he wore, and worse moved the buzzing he now knew for certain was placed in his pelvic region, he was suddenly hyper-aware of the new presence in the room. He listened intently as the body languidly paced around his own left, right, and front. Color began to spread across the top of Mu Qing's cheek bones as he suddenly realized what exactly this person’s view was of. His legs instinctually attempted to close together but were quickly reprimanded by the tug of leather and clanking sound of metal chain against metal bar. The high-pitched sound seemed to be what elicited a subtle but smug laugh from the newly entered figure. Even as the blush spread fully across Mu Qing's face, the man remained still, unwilling to give away any of the weakness or fear that was, in all accuracy, very present and very intently plaguing his mind more intensely the longer this went on.

He was reminded once more of how he was very much at someone’s mercy. At this point, he cared less about who’s mercy he was at, and what was going to happen to him.

Mu Qing couldn’t decide if he felt more like prey, being stalked by a predator, or like uncut meat laid out before an eager butcher. Either way, he was not looking forward to the ending he might face as the receiving end of either.
He considered the possibility of the former more likely than the later, as the figure surveying him seemed more eager to consume him than destroy him.

His held back fear began to surge and overflow from his grasp as the person’s presence disappeared from his purview. The presence hadn’t left, he didn’t think. He hadn’t heard it exit the room, but he could no longer feel it here. The sudden disappearance pulled a thought to the front of his mind.

Had the presence he felt ever been there to begin with? Or had he been the source of its creation all along?

Was the fear in his stomach really fear, or was it hunger, had he been there for days. How long had he been there? If he took off the fabric covering his face, would there be a window he could look out from? He had never felt such a primal need to see the sun. He would attempt it himself were his hands not plastered to the nylon sheets below him, pressing creases into the folds his tightening grip formed. As primal urges surged forward they painfully boiled in his gut, his bodily temperature spiked and the cold sweat his body formed on the small of his back and edges of his face felt ever more prominent against his burning flesh, rolling cold lines down the periphery of the body he could currently barely feel.

Adding to the heat on his body, a warm breath puffed against the sensitive edges of his ear, encouraging a red blush to paint across them as words were spoken.

“Feeling comfortable?”

Now he couldn’t tell if the winding inside his stomach was that of fear, or that of arousal.

Chapter Text

Voices carry more than just the words they project into the world. Most notably, they carry emotion.

The emotion Mu Qing felt as the voice of this stranger heated his already warm ears, was that of something akin to joy. Mu Qing was now much more consciously aware of the fact that he was alone in his fear, hearing the smile those words were spoken through isolated him within his own mind. His captor was not only confident, but pleased by the sight they stood above. Something about that fact irked Mu Qing to the point it broke through and appeared in the form of a scowl plastered haphazardly on his face.

This time, Mu Qing didn’t jump.

He couldn’t tell if it was the result of the frigid cold fear still suppressing his ability to move, or if he had already adjusted to the other body’s presence. The latter made no sense to Mu Qing, he assumed it was the former. He wasn’t sure however, and it scared him.

Still unable to bring forth any form of protest from his body despite the ever growing anxiety in his gut, Mu Qing remained immobile, trying to convince himself that the lack of resistance was his choice, rather than a lack of connection to his own body, as thinking such a thing in this kind of a situation might just break what little connection he had managed to hold on to up until now. The voice continued in Mu Qing’s silence.

“I asked if you were comfortable,” the stranger spoke in a sickly sweet voice, reminiscent of melted hard candy, in both how appetizing, and how misleading it’s outside seemed, at first glance so untainted, keeping its form despite the often summer-heated center which waited patiently to burn your tongue upon consumption. “How am I supposed to know if you’re comfortable if you refuse to speak?”

Silence followed.

“Very well then,” the voice didn’t sound as deceiving or sweet as it did just a second ago, dropping into a lower range, a hint of impatience snapping at the end of each word. The lower tones this change of intention added, even to each phoneme the unknown figure’s throat produced, made an unknown, or rather, unfitting, feeling appear quite suddenly and quite proximal to the buzzing feeling Mu Qing had, until this moment, successfully pushed to the periphery of his mind. “If ‘mystery man’ wants to play hardball, we can play hardball.” Mu Qing was confused by this nickname, exactly who here was “mystery man?” As this individual had so… blatantly? No, just plainly put it. His words truly left no room for interpretation, that was for sure. Still, the way he said it, made that feeling near his pelvis grow ever so slightly in its intensity, only serving to further confuse the blindfolded boy. What was this stranger playing at? What did they want from him exactly? How could Mu Qing hope to attempt to understand the motives of this stranger if he couldn’t even begin to unravel his own emotions?

Okay, maybe Mu Qing hadn’t always been the most in touch with his emotions, but the mental state he was in now, Mu Qing believed, was far past what an “average comprehension of one’s emotions” might cover. Then again, Mu Qing sighed in his head, what was there he could still be certain of at the moment? As far as he was concerned, today was filled with everything but what could be called certain. How did today start again?

Lost in thought, this time Mu Qing did jump, though to be fair his reaction was likely in some part exacerbated by a mixture of his surprise with a quick sting of pain the fabric cut as it was ripped from his face, rubbing harshly in a frighteningly close line below his eye. Mu Qing’s immediate instinct was to squint, an unconscious urge to make the transition from complete darkness to the comparatively bright room a little less painful on his eyes. Strangely enough, the impulse proved to be unnecessary, it seemed, as nearly no light at all was reflected onto the back of Mu Qing’s eyelids, prompting him to open them, though still carefully, noticeably faster than usual.

After fully uncovering his eyes, Mu Qing took little time to adjust to the dimly lit room. To be honest, dimly lit was being generous. Though he was unable to lift his head farther than an inch off the mattress, the figure he assumed was responsible for the removal of his blindfold was easily within his line of sight. It was the lighting, or rather the lack thereof, that was inhibiting Mu Qing from getting a thorough look at the, based on apparent height and shoulder width, man.
From where his head lay, Mu Qing found it nearly impossible to squint out the face of the man, unable to grasp any identifying features that might give him some kind of a clue as to the nature of the situation he’d awoken to. What he did get a good look at however, were the clothes the man wore. They were exceptionally form fitting, that was for sure, the level of definition they gave his already well-sculpted figure was enough to make up for the lack of definition above his shoulders. The majority of the ensemble was black, and, from what little Mu Qing could see, the man wore little to no accessories, opting for a more sleek, versatile, and all-around utilitarian choice of clothing. The one notable exception being the presence of an empty quiver the man wore across his back. At least, Mu Qing assumed it was a quiver based on contextual clues. Forget any detailing on the quiver’s body or even the leather strap holding it taught against the tall man’s back, the thing Mu Qing assumed was a quiver looked more like a blob if he weren’t able to recognize an archer by their posture.

Mu Qing’s intense focus was broken by the sound of the man continuing to speak. “So, are you ready to play, or have you given up on playing hardball?” As the man spoke, he leaned down at the perfect angle where the single light source in the room was unobstructed enough to cast a sickly strange yellow glow across the man’s face. It was when confronted with this view that Mu Qing finally remembered the name of the feeling this man’s voice prompted from his lower regions. Not only was Mu Qing extremely concerned, but also extremely self-conscious of his current state. He honestly couldn’t say what it was about the face above him that made him feel this way. Yes, the way his short black hair was drawn up into a tight bun, managed enough to remain where is was placed on his hair, yet unkempt enough that some of the looser strands of hair fell down to frame his face, did paint a more unwittingly charming image than he might like to admit, and sure, his black eyes were deep enough Mu Qing may or may not have considered staring into them for a couple dozen minutes, trying to find where they might end, hoping to get lost. BUT THAT WAS STILL NO REASON FOR HIM TO GET HARD AT THE SIGHT OF HIS CAPTOR’S FACE!

Chapter Text

Grief is classically experienced in five different stages. It starts with denial, moving from there into anger, then bargaining, depression, and then finally, acceptance. While this process is often streamlined into this rigid flowchart of emotions on paper, the actual experience is far from linear.

Anyone but him could see, this was the reason Mu Qing currently refused to believe that he was actually hard. Instinctual, unwavering denial. So strong, in fact, it hid the tugging recollection fighting for attention from the back of his mind.

Flustered in equal amounts by both the realization of his arousal and the bulge now in his pants, Mu Qing was in quite the state. Much to his dismay, the stranger noticed this as well, dropping his menacing guise for just a second as he looked the alarmed man up and down. After giving his body a once-over, Mu Qing was in the perfect position to watch, almost in slow-motion, as a devilish smirk spread across his smug face in the wake of the leering man’s comprehension. It was this sight that made Mu Qing’s blood run cold.

Raising one eyebrow in arrogance, mocking the scene below him, the figure’s voice returned to its original, syrupy sound, “oh, what do we have here? It seems you want to play a different kind of game? Or did you just assume that’s what I was planning to do with you?” Even if Mu Qing could will himself to speak, he wouldn’t know what to say. “Well I can’t entirely blame you given the context, fishface sure has some… interesting… passions. Still, I’m quite offended you’d think so low of me as to be one to force myself upon an unwilling party. I mean, you hardly know me.” Mu Qing watched in abhorrence as the face above him twisted into one that attempted to portray some perversion of innocence, as it seemed, but failed to have such an effect on Mu Qing who’d just seen first-hand how much menace that face could truly hold. Mu Qing did recognize the look of pity that soon followed as the strange man continued his ramblings, “Sorry to disappoint but I’ve really only been sent here to interrogate you, though if that’s something you’d like to do after I’d be happy to-”

Suddenly, their one-sided conversation was interrupted by 50 decibels worth of static which managed to startle both the men. Mu Qing only lightly rattled the chains as he flinched but if the other man noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, any trace of emotion fell from his face, his well-toned body becoming noticeably more stiff at the sound.

Not well-toned. Nope, that isn’t what Mu Qing thought about his body. Not about anybody, much less this stranger he’d not only just met, but just been old-school kidnapped and bullied by. What was wrong with him, honestly, whenever this was over Mu Qing was going to need to schedule a therapy session and a health check-up.

Though Mu Qing couldn’t see a thing thanks to the stranger retreating into the light as his back straightened, he assumed that the man was listening to some kind of an earpiece he hadn’t noticed when occupied by the man’s face. Said face remained out of Mu Qing’s sight for the next couple dozen of seconds as it listened intently to this assumed earpiece, two of his fingers placed by his temple as if to concentrate, before finally turning back to the figure below and resuming his prior smug disposition.

Lackadaisically tilting his head to the side and leaning back down into the light, the figure imitated a pout and continued talking at Mu Qing’s unamused face, “Sorry to say but it looks like our little chat has come to an end.” It took some work for him not to roll his eyes. Now if he could speak, Mu Qing could think of a few choice words he might like to share, but at this point he thought it might be smarter to get this madman out of the room so Mu Qing could better plan his escape. He didn’t care who this man was supposed to be, he didn’t have the time or energy for this and any feelings stirred up by the man’s voice had melted away by this point and he was ready to be done with the sound.

Done with his commentary, the man smiled sarcastically down at Mu Qing before quickly turning around and, with a press of his finger on his hip, the buzzing at Mu Qing’s pelvis came to a sudden stop. The confusion this caused must’ve appeared on Mu Qing’s face as the standing man addressed it with one simple, infuriating phrase, “fear tactics.” The man quickly raised his eyebrows before confidently strutting out of the room, his feet making no sound against the concrete floor, then slipping back on the shoes they’d taken off before finally leaving the room, closing and locking the it behind them, leaving Mu Qing fuming and in the dark, both literally and figuratively on both accounts. Fuming from both rage and embarrassment, and in the dark both in the poorly lit room and in that Mu Qing had yet to learn this man’s name.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, Mu Qing made his body limp and closed his eyes while he thought to himself about just what he was doing here. Under his breath he finally managed to whisper, “how did I get myself into this…”

Mu Qing’s eyes snapped open to the screeching of the smoke alarm in his small apartment. As he sat up, unnaturally slowly for a man in his situation, he groaned loudly over the noise. “XIE LIAAAN, IS THAT YOU AGAIN?!” A pause, then a hesitant and flustered response, “Sorry Mu Qing!! I’ve got it covered! I managed to put the fire out relatively,” the man broke out into a miniature coughing fit quite suddenly, quickly fighting through it to continue, “earlier than last time. I just can’t figure out how to get the smoke to go away.” Rolling his eyes with his eyelids still closed, he asked “Have you tried opening the window?” There was silence for a moment before he finally heard the window squeak in protest and then slam wildly up as it gave way and opened. “Ohhh,” Xie Lian said slowly, dragging out the “o” before gleefully replying, “Thanks Mu Qing!” Mu Qing groaned again, this time into both of his hands as he willed himself to get out of bed and help. He had spent almost every morning dealing with some variation of this since Xie Lian moved in with him last month. Although Xie Lian had always been a troublesome employee, at least Mu Qing had a space he knew he could come back to after following him around doing damage control all day. Still, it’s not as though he could just let one of his two remaining employees go just because he didn’t have a house at the moment. Mu Qing didn’t even know racoons could do that much damage until he met Xie Lian and honestly, he really didn’t need to know. At least now Xie Lian had someone making sure he got to work on time, even if he had to buy fire extinguishers a lot more often, at least he knew Xie Lian was alive when he didn’t show up to work for a few days after falling asleep on the bus.

Mu Qing did finally manage to get out of bed on his own and by the time he made his way to the kitchen/living room/the makeshift corner where Xie Lian was sleeping, Xie Lian had finished cleaning up whatever mess started the fire alarm this morning and replaced it with two bowls of cereal. “So,” Mu Qing tries, “what was going to be for breakfast today?” Xie Lian avoids eye contact as he sheepishly begins to explain, “Well, I was really in the mood for toast but since the toaster incident last week I thought I’d try using the frying pan instead.” Mu Qing sighs, he knows he’s done such a thing before but even imagining Xie Lian attempting such a feat is not something he’d like to spend his time doing, “So where did the bread end up?” He attempts to hold the conversation, “Oh, I threw them out the window, is that okay? I don’t think they hit anyone…” Xie Lian awkwardly adds. Mu Qing finishes swallowing his first bite of some rice-based cereal he can’t taste this early in the morning before adding, “Yeah, I’m sure it’s fine, just make sure to close the window soon so if any birds get a taste they have somewhere to fling themselves against.” Mu Qing smiled internally a little bit as he took a second bite, it only took him a few chews to realize the silence following his joke on behalf of the other party. Looking up from his bowl, Mu Qing was startled to see the humiliated face Xie Lian wore, fidgeting with the spoon in his bowl. Mu Qing’s eyes widened and he hurriedly finished chewing and swallowing, albeit a little painfully due to the rush, before spitting out “Oh shit Xie Lian- I’m sorry, I swea-” but was quickly cut off with Xie Lian waving his hands as if to brush off Mu Qing’s words, smiling and saying, “No, no, no, it’s fine, I promise, I’m just not feeling my best today, that’s all, I know you were joking.” Unsure of what exactly to respond with Mu Qing pitifully attempted to smile back, but ended up just producing a pitying smile, not aiding the situation in the slightest.

Both went silent as the awkward silence they’d both been valiantly trying to stave off took over despite their efforts, leaving only the continued muffled sounds of the two eating to fill the space. It didn’t take long for them both to finish, discarding their bowls by the overflowing sink and closing the window because if they didn’t, the birds really might try and hit the glass, and neither were really in the mood to chase birds out of their apartment any time soon. So, as sad as it was, Xie Lian did make a point to walk over and close the window with a loud slam. To his credit, he really did try to be gentle when pulling it down, it’s just that Xie Lian had abnormally horrid luck.

After cleaning up any tripping hazards and making sure nothing on fire had escaped their eye, as they had learned by now to do, the two men, now donned in uniform white button down shirts, black pants, an apron for Mu Qing, and a broom for Xie Lian, the two headed downstairs to start the day.

Chapter Text

Despite the loud start to his day, Mu Qing came downstairs still drowsy, the world slowly coming into focus as Xie Lian sauntered around, opening up the store. While Xie Lian turned on the lights and unlocked the doors, Mu Qing took a seat behind the counter. While Xie Lian swept the floors, Mu Qing always left this task to him as he couldn’t stand doing it himself, he lazily set up the cash register.

As Xie Lian gave the gray, beaded chain on the neon sign a quick tug and raised the blinds, the store was bathed in the light yellow glow of a rising, six o’clock sun. Finished with setup, Xie Lian walked behind the counter with Mu Qing. It didn’t take much longer than half an hour before the city of Xuli was awake, cars filling the streets, people crowding the sidewalks, and sounds of irritated honking and incoherent voices shattering the illusion of a peaceful morning. Sounds that grew sharply as the tinkle of a gold bell rang out for the first time that morning as the door opened, announcing Immortal Scraps’ first customer of the day. Since Mu Qing had already started on the daily crossword in the local paper “Twin Stars Weekly,” Xie Lian was able to greet the person with a bright smile unaccompanied by Mu Qing’s standard eye roll. It only took a second for the customer to find the correct brand of canned coffee from the display fridge in the back, quickly pay for it and leave just as fast. In the span of time it took for the woman to find and pay for the drink, three other people had walked in and started meandering the isles. Soon enough, the entire store was bustling and Mu Qing reluctantly set down his crossword to help with check out.

Their bodega may not be the most popular breakfast location, especially since they more than lacked in variety, but with their items staying on the cheaper side and the size of Xuli city, they managed to rake in enough customers to stay afloat. Still, it was nice to see the store so busy. Just as the crowd in the store began to thin, a loud, colourful character hurried through the door, heels clicking and clacking loudly against the off-white linoleum tiles.

Rolling his eyes as he walked back to his crossword, Mu Qing exasperatedly interrogated, “Qingxuan, you’re late again. What’s the reason this time?” The newly arrived figure, and the store’s only other employee, Shi Qingxuan, slowed her walk slightly as she made her way across the store. Sheepishly, she said, “well…” Xie Lian smiled, even he could tell she was making her excuse up on the spot. “See, my car is just so old… I mean, it’s no one’s fault it breaks down so often…” with a sarcastic grimace, Mu Qing adds, “yeah, and always on the days you have morning shifts… How strange.” Xie Lian fails to stifle a light snort, catching Shi Qingxuan’s attention which she quickly directs back to Mu Qing upon seeing a trace of remorse on Xie Lian’s face. Shi Qingxuan makes a show of sticking her tongue out mockingly at Mu Qing before disappearing into the back of the store. Xie Lian can almost hear the man’s eyes roll.

Other than Mu Qing and Shi Qingxuan getting into an argument about whether the answer to 6 down was “menace” or “severe,” the trio made it all the way to noon with little to no complications. Rowdy customers are to be expected at any convenience store, especially those in an urban environment, so any day where less than three of them showed up before lunch was a pretty good start to the day. Shi Qingxuan was assigned the first lunch break at twelve o’clock, Mu Qing and Xie Lian following behind respectively in 45 minute intervals so that at least two people were manning the shop at a time, something Mu Qing had insisted was paramount due to the high rates of crime around them. Xuli city itself was quite well off, with a normal rate of crime relative to its size, similar patterns appearing in the city of Yushi. Comparatively, the surrounding cities of Wuyong and Yong’An had abnormally high rates of crime and were well known for the number of gangs inhabiting them. Some of this crime did bleed into areas around their store, but after an insurance incident a couple months ago no one really fought Mu Qing’s new plan to break up their lunches.

One of the downsides to this plan was not only the loss of their designated gossip time, but also a general dip in morale since Immortal Scraps was significantly more busy between conventional meal times than during them. So while they did gain a couple more customer transactions, their usual strategies for staving off the ever impending boredom ran out a lot quicker than usual. One substantial benefit of this alteration to their routine was the lack of argument over what lunch would be. Since no one ever wanted spicy chicken, he had spent his lunch break the past few months finally visiting the numerous restaurants and food trucks that had intrigued him, but that he’d never been allowed to visit. Though this did explain the overly cheery grin on his face, walking back into the bodega early at 1:15 with a grease stained paper bag in his hand, it did not soften the unease Xie Lian and Shi Qingxuan felt upon seeing it.

Chewing as he made his way back behind the counter where the other two were wearily sitting, Mu Qing swallowed with an unnatural “pep” as it could only be described before addressing Xie Lian. “If you’d like, you can go ahead and take your lunch break, just make sure to come back on time.” An easy smile appeared on Xie Lian’s face upon hearing these words, standing and stretching his arms out, accompanied by a lazy yawn as his feet carried him to the front door. “Thanks Mu Qing, see you two later!” He waved with his right hand, the other pushing the door open before him. Two steps out the door, Xie Lian managed to trip over his own feet, catching himself before hitting the pavement below by an inch before bolting up and hastily walking away, hoping no one saw him stumble. Sadly, it did not escape either of his friends’ eyes, both keeping an eye in case this time he didn’t catch himself and they’d need to call the ambulance again.

Especially since Xie Lian was one of the only reasons the trio could function, his lunch break was the most bland of all for the store. Silence quickly enveloped the store as both of the remaining individuals began to count down his lunch break. One hour and two customers later, Shi Qingxuan finally pointed out the elephant in the room. “So…” she steadily began, “what do you think happened this time?” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “either he lost track of time or he got lost, either way, he’s found his way back before, just give him a couple more hours. Shi Qingxuan shrugged in resignation and returned to staring at the clock on the wall directly across from the counter.

A general feeling of unease began to increasingly settle upon the already uneasy atmosphere. As the afternoon ran its course the two of them took turns texting and calling his phone but since they already were unable to track it, they assumed it likely that if he did have his phone, he wasn’t receiving any of it. The attempts to contact him came to a reluctant stop after seven thirty. It was only after the eleven o’clock influx of midnight snackers that either of them brought it up again. This time, Mu Qing was the one that spoke. “Hey, Qingxuan, feel free to head home, there’s only half an hour ‘till closing and I’m sure I can handle it, I’ll make sure to reach out to Xie Lian a couple more times before locking up.” Shi Qingxuan nodded, thinking for a while before finally adding, “Thank you, would you mind reaching out to me as soon as you hear anything, anything at all, I’m kinda worried, he’s usually back by now.” Mu Qing nodded and agreed before finally ushering Shi Qingxuan out the door with a farewell. He watched passively as Shi Qingxuan walked out to her car and drove off.

When he could no longer see her car in the distance, Mu Qing grabbed his phone from his back pocket while walking to his chair behind the counter. Selecting Xie Lian’s contact and turning on speaker phone, Mu Qing finally took a seat, collapsing internally as well as externally having finally found his first moment of the day alone. The dial tone rang for what felt like ages, echoing solemnly in the stiff, empty air. Suddenly, a static tick sounded and a voice came through. Mu Qing’s face dropped quickly, as it had every time the monotone voice instructing him to leave a message had played today. He aggressively closed the call before the voice could finish, leaving the phone abandoned on the counter, and started cleaning the store up, rarely did anyone come in after eleven so he was uninterrupted. As closing drew closer, Mu Qing found himself face to face with quite the nuisance. His face twitched and a grimace appeared on it. Daggers shot from his eyes to the broom in the back corner. He waited, as if for it to make the first move.

Silence filled the space, then suddenly. Clack.

Before the sound of the broom falling pitifully against the floor had finished making its way across the room Mu Qing had swiftly turned around and started strutting towards the back closet, trying his best not to appear unsettled. When he exited from the closet with a bag of trash Shi Qingxuan had gathered before departing, and a can tucked tightly in his back pocket, he looked a little more convincingly settled. Exiting out the back door, Mu Qing shivered as the cold outside air hit his skin. He skillfully threw the trash bag in his hand into the overfilled dumpster then reached into his pocket for the can. Looking around, he quickly spotted what he was looking for, or rather, who. He kneeled where he was and focused on opening the can of cat food in his hand, listening to the soft pattering of paws coming towards him. After getting the can fully open, he placed it on the ground in front of him and watched as the little white kitten slowly tread towards it and tentatively sniffed as it always did. A calm smile settled upon Mu Qing’s face as he watched the wholesome scene unfold.

“You know, Ghost, I’ve had quite the day today, but you’re not as hard to understand as humans.” Mu Qing sighed, weary from all of today’s events, “Humans make no sense, do they?” He asked the kitten, which was now scarfing down the contents of the flat, metal can. As Mu Qing moved his hand forward to pet the kitten, it suddenly jumped in fear and skittered surprisingly quickly away. Confused and surprised, Mu Qing stood up and called out, “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? I promise I won’t-” his sentence was cut short as he felt a swift, sharp chop somewhere on the back of his neck and watched the world go black.

Chapter Text

The phrase “expect the unexpected” is stupid. At a minimum, Feng Xin thinks, it’s oversimplified, and oversimplified platitudes can be the death of dense people. Ignoring the paradox that it creates, seeing as how as soon as you expect what might otherwise have not been expected, the expectation no longer is “unexpected” in nature, it is generally not beneficial to “expect” anything.

When you act with an expectation in mind, what often happens is that your preparation becomes tailored to a specific situation and, by extension, outcome. Because of this, it is difficult, though not impossible to adapt when the “unexpected” inevitably arrives. Therefore, it is almost always to your benefit if you are to remain prepared, and not expectant.

Still, there was nothing Feng Xin could’ve done to be prepared for this, even if he had been expecting the unexpected, this was just too much.

In time with the sound of the door closing behind him, the confident smirk on Feng Xin’s face falls into one of pure horror. He waits a handful of seconds and steps before stopping in his tracks and screaming at the top of his lungs, “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

As he stormed away from Black Water’s room, face indecipherable, Feng Xin’s mind was racing, what the actual fuck was Mu Qing doing here. It’d been years since Feng Xin had actually seen Mu Qing’s face, but he’d thought about it enough that it hadn’t taken more than a second for him to recognize it. Sure, most of the time when Feng Xin thought about Mu Qing, it was of their time spent together as children, but sometimes, the times when he let his mind wander farther than usual, he’d think about what Mu Qing would look like at 23. Most of his predictions had been encouragingly accurate, surprisingly enough. He’d seen that sharp jawline, no longer hidden by baby fat, but still retaining the smallest shadow where it once had been, giving his face a slight roundness. His nose had been the same, straight in shape, upturned by his snobby demeanor. His eyes had not outgrown their upturned, almond shape, reminiscent of a cat’s. Though it’d been 6 whole years since they’d last seen each other, it’d still only been 6 years since they’d seen each other. DID MU QING REALLY NOT RECOGNIZE HIM?! If anything, Feng Xin was the worse of the two when it came to remembering faces or names, and considering how the two of them had spent nearly 8 years together, you’d think that’d be enough for Feng Xin to make a lasting impression on Mu Qing’s brain. Fuck, maybe Feng Xin was right that year he was convinced Mu Qing had a brain malformity, that or Mu Qing really did hate Feng Xin enough for his brain to repress the memory of Feng Xin entirely.

Feng Xin, on the other hand, was having the opposite issue. Ever since he’d seen it, Feng Xin couldn't seem to get the image of Mu Qing splayed out on the bed like that out of his head. There was simply no way to describe just how grateful Feng Xin had been for Yin Yu’s timely interruption, there was no telling what Feng Xin might’ve done if he’d stayed in that room longer. Feng Xin had never been subtle about criticising the specific nature of fishface’s… romantic interests. Honestly, Feng Xin had never been too keen on the idea of anything BDSM, not only had little to no interest in romance, but also was under the general impression that a lot of what the acronym included was generally unappealing. Mu Qing may or may not have dispelled a part of that impression, and that was not a comfortable thought to house.

Shaking off what thoughts he could as he arrived at the heavy, dark wood door, Feng Xin took a deep breath in and out before knocking solidly three times in quick succession. Almost immediately, a low voice answered “Come in.”

Keeping his expression as flat as he could manage, Feng Xin walked into the darkened room. The sparse number of low-light lamps and blackout curtains making for quite the sinister atmosphere. Walking forward until he was about a meter and a half from the heavy, polished, desk, Feng Xin kept his mouth purposefully closed. The man in the dark, leather chair behind the desk looked up at him, eyepatch covering one eye, the dark onyx one staring daggers into Feng Xin where he stood, stark still. The heavy air sat still for uncomfortably long before it was finally broken by the sitting man’s deep, monotone voice to ask “What did you get from him?”

Feng Xin swallowed before opening his now dry mouth, “Sorry sir, I didn’t get anything from him.” Not only did fishface decide it was a good idea to tie the man down in such a suggestive way, but he was also given practically no time to conduct a proper interrogation, of course, Feng Xin would never dare say all this out loud, not to Hua Cheng, not if he wanted to keep living. His words made the gaze on him intensify, painfully so, Feng Xin unwilling to even try and meet it now.

Hua Cheng’s posture reluctantly relaxed to a slight, but noticeable, degree after an agonizing few seconds. He continued to talk, moving his gaze away from Feng Xin, finally, and crossing left leg over right as he leaned back, playing with something shiny but otherwise unrecognizable to Feng Xin in his hands. “Well, from what Yin Yu’s managed to scrape up, the boy seems to have no relation to anything relevant besides Xie Lian himself but for now we’ll be keeping him here, just in case.”

“So what the fuck am I here for?” Feng Xin thought to himself. As if Hua Cheng could see through him, he continued to elaborate, “So, while I will be assigning you to the rescue mission this time, I’ll also be assigning you the prisoner.” Feng Xin was more confused than before, what exactly was that supposed to mean. Would Hua Cheng ever give him a straight answer or was such a courtesy beyond the man. “This means,” Hua Cheng broke through Feng Xin’s inner dialogue, “you’ll be babysitting the man until both the rescue mission succeeds and we clear him of any fault in the incident. Feng Xin blinked slowly, processing the words being said, but unable to fully grasp what that actually meant. “Be on the lookout for orders from Black Water, he’s leading the rescue mission.”

Usually, Feng Xin might make a bigger deal about He Xuan leading but any annoyance he might have felt at this was trumped by the confusion monopolizing space in his mind at the moment, and simply dissolved. Feng Xin continued to stand there, unresponsive and uncharacteristically dazed. To wrap up the discussion as succinctly as possible, Hua Cheng simply smiled despite the lack of acknowledgement and lazily dismissed Feng Xin with a wave of his hand. On instinct, Feng Xin turned and walked out of the room, a stupified look still plastered on his face.
Absentmindedly closing the door behind him, Feng Xin struggled to continue walking away and towards his quarters, nearly colliding with several people in the red-carpeted hallway. Paying even less attention to his entrance, due to his familiarity with the room, Feng Xin walked to his double bed and sat on the edge, legs dangling off so that they were resting flat on the polished wood of the floor. Slowly, he lifted both hands to cup his face and muttered slowly, disbelief as the words left his own mouth, “What. The. Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Torture has, if not in a morbid way than in some macabre or distasteful way, been a part of every great civilization, kingdom, and society over the years. It’s not something Mu Qing would say he’s passionate about; however, having spent approximately 15 hours over the course of his two years in community college looking through such topics on wikipedia, while thinking less than happy thoughts about a professor or two no less, it’s something he can’t deny being at least casually familiar with.

Given his less than lacking knowledge on the subject, Mu Qing was confident that what he was experiencing now, and has been for about the past two days, was without a doubt, some kind of 21st century torture porn, and at the moment, he was not feeling it. This was cruel, not sexy.

At some point he had begun to form a kind of list in his brain of the pros and cons that came with being his new... situation.

All in all, this was significantly worse than it was better in a number of different ways but it could be a whole lot worse. At the moment, he was mostly just frustrated that he couldn’t get his hands on some coffee. The guy that had been bringing his food was pretty nice, maybe he could ask for some. It was a shot in the dark but it might just be worth it.

It’d been a long time since he’d last had coffee. With the extra cost Xie Lian’s presence put on his wallet, he hadn’t had much financial “wiggle room” to say the least . Not that Mu Qing was blaming Xie Lian for his accident prone nature, though it did mean him costing more than the average person to house , but it was a fact that he was another person to take care of and no longer paying Xie Lian’s salary in full wasn’t exactly making him any money. Plus, even if the fancy stuff was out of his price range, the kind of instant stuff places like his sold was probably too much for Xie Lian to handle making, and he would probably never stop trying as Mu Qing had reluctantly found out after his first few days. As his mind wandered over to Xie Lian it couldn’t help but fill with worry. The last time Mu Qing had seen him was before he’d been kidnapped and while a part of him wondered if Xie Lian was in a… “cell” next door or at least in a situation like himself where Mu Qing could assume he was at a minimum not dead, something in his gut refused to relax quite yet. A different, less amicable, part of him wondered if he couldn’t just selfishly blame Xie Lian’s rotten luck for his current situation.

Before he could fall deeper into that thought, Mu Qing’s attention was drawn to the door across the room opening to a familiar sight. Though eerie in its own way, the woeful mask on the slim figure that entered with a tray of much wanted food was at least a familiar one. This time however, Mu Qing noted silently, the usual black robes were asymmetrical, one side bunched up to reveal a pale arm and bandaged right shoulder. Gunshot wound, was Mu Qing’s first thought, his mind now made up on whether these guys were criminals or not.

Mu Qing continued to eye the bandage as the man walked forward to place the tray on top of the bed. Noticing his gaze, the masked man asks in a calm and neutral, one might even call it forgettable tone, “Need something?” Shaken from his daze, Mu Qing responds, “What happened?” His words are accompanied with a nod of his head towards the bandaged shoulder, indicating the subject of his queerie . Without even so much as a show of recognition as the question was asked, the masked man responded in the same voice, “Nothing to worry about, just sent on a mission and ran into some light trouble. Now, please enjoy your meal.” With a courteous bow in Mu Qing’s direction and a swift gait, the standing of the two made his exit from the room.

Lazily, Mu Qing took up a spoon and began to eat the lukewarm congee as he saltily pushed around in his head, “I was just curious, not worried… and ‘mission ?’ What kind of work calls their assignments ‘mission s?’ Yeah, no way this was anything but illegal. Before he can get much further into his thoughts, Mu Qing begins to wonder why he can actually sort of… taste the bland dish before him before ultimately realizing that it doesn’t exactly taste like congee and passing out, thankfully falling backward onto the bed. All he was left to think, eyes trying to blink away an impending haze, was an offended, “What the fuck?”

Chapter Text

It’s way too dark outside for it to be morning, at least in Feng Xin's opinion. The only nice thing about where he was right now, was the weather, the chill in the air being cold enough to distract his mind from well… everything.

Not only have thoughts of Mu Qing refused to leave his headspace since they entered, but now he was being forced to work with Blackwater of all people, and domestic missions were not exactly his cup of tea. Crimson Rain had insisted it wasn’t a “domestic mission,” in fact it wasn’t even given a formal designation, everyone of importance was just given orders to drop any current assignments and prioritize this new one. On top of all that, the mission itself was to find and ensure the safety of Xie Lian, his former employer. Not only was Feng Xin anxious to come back in contact with the man after so many years, he was also confused as all hell. I mean, given the recency in both of their reappearances in Feng Xin’s life, he found it safe to assume the two of them had become friends again. What did that mean for him? Did he even fit in their dynamic anymore? More than that, was it still set up to be a three way dynamic, or was there something else between the two of them? Looking up at the likely cramped living space above what he’d been informed was Mu Qing’s bodega it came to him that there were only so many kinds of relationships two people could have that led to them living together. At one point Feng Xin would’ve been jealous of Mu Qing, the ability he had to spend so much time with Xie Lian would’ve been something he might’ve fought to take from him. Right now, however, he found himself jealous of Mu Qing.

He’s still not exactly sure when, but at some point Feng Xin found he’d come to have persistent and annoying feelings for Mu Qing. He’d come to this conclusion reluctantly after a couple nights… alone with his thoughts and since then, apparently, they hadn’t left.

This was just one more reason Feng Xin wasn’t sure he could handle working with Blackwater today. Feng Xin still blamed him for the freshly kindled thoughts the image of Mu Qing tied to the bed brought back to life.

Also, what the hell did it mean to be “in charge of Mu Qing?” What did it mean to be “in charge” of anyone??? Sometimes he swore Crimson Rain never thought anything through unless he actually cared about it and the things he cared about, as far as Feng Xin was concerned, were few and far between.

A deep breath in and out fills his lungs with cold air and clears the fog from his mind.

The click of a lock brings him away from his newly cleared head and back to the now solved problem in front of him, getting into the place. Luckily for them, they’d been allowed to bring Yin Yu with them, this meant a much easier mission given Yin Yu’s skills. Admittedly Feng Xin had been quite wary of the man upon first seeing him, but after a few conversations and a bit of time, Yin Yu had proven to be both extremely good at his job and extremely considerate, overall a damn good coworker. In fact, Yin Yu had agreed to make sure he didn’t have to do much about “being in charge of” Mu Qing until the mission was over after Feng Xin vented to him the situation between the two. Whether for the benefit of the mission, to appease a fellow coworker, or the more likely reason, given the look Feng Xin received as he told the story, a genuine understanding of the situation between the two, like he’d been through the same thing almost, whatever the case, feng Xin was grateful . It was thanks to Yin Yu that Feng Xin could walk into the building with a little clearer of a mind.

They spent the next half hour searching the place, Yin Yu and Feng Xin searching downstairs and Blackwater upstairs, since it was a smaller area to cover and he was more awake than the other two, used to this time of day a great degree more than them. It was also thanks to the early morning exhaustion both Yin Yu and Feng Xin were drowning in, that they both remained frozen when a loud presence walked, or rather strutted, past the doors.

“MU QING I PROMISE I HAVE A REASON FOR NOT BEING HERE YESTERDAY-”

As the newly arrived woman well… arrived, she hollered before fully taking in the situation in front of her. Once she did realize, it took her barely any time at all to take off her left heel, scream bloody murder, and chuck the shoe at Yin Yu, who happened to be the closer target. Tired and out of his depth, Yin Yu took the projectile, a striking four inch, black pump, to the shoulder, the sharp heel hitting hard enough to actually do significant damage and Yin Yu staggered down to one knee, clutching his right shoulder but keeping his head up, keeping his eyes on the woman.

Though he wasn’t proud to admit it, it was a fact that Feng Xin was afraid of women so it wasn’t much of a surprise to him that his fighting instincts fled the moment she arrived and that, when her gaze turned to him, all he could manage to do was raise his hands in supplication. Though the action didn’t stop her glare, it did seem to save him from any bodily harm. The problem was, now the woman seemed to be asking him questions, but for some reason, likely the evergrowing fear rendering him immobile, he couldn’t hear a single thing.

It was only after the woman’s gaze left him that his hearing returned. Upon which, he distinctly heard the low voice that could only belong to Blackwater . All he could do was thank the gods for his fortuitous timing. Tuning out the woman and Blackwater’s conversation, Feng Xin stumbled, then walked over to Yin Yu, who was still on the ground, gripping his shoulder but remaining silent.

As he examined the state of Yin Yu’s arm, which was starting to look like it would develop a nasty bruise, but was luckily not bleeding, he gleaned a few things from the conversation behind him. First of all, it seemed the two had already met, second of all, the woman, whose name was Shi Qingxuan, apparently worked at Immortal Scraps. The fact that someone besides Mu Qing or Xie Lian worked here was not something anyone, except it seems Blackwater , had been aware of. As he helps Yin Yu to his feet, Feng Xin distinctly hears Shi Qingxuan ask for Blackwater’s number, only to receive from him Yin Yu’s number. Feng Xin doesn’t say anything though, he knows Blackwater isn’t one to give anyone his number, much less be willing to text someone from it.

After receiving and entering the number into her phone, Shi Qingxuan texts something at an inhuman speed into it. Upon sending it, Yin Yu receives a text, much to his surprise and not so much to Feng Xin’s. Upon realising what exactly had gone down, an annoyed but mischievous smirk grew on Shi Qingxuan’s face and with a swift turn to Blackwater, during which her hair whipped around both dangerously and ethereally, she started another loud one-sided “conversation.”

Meanwhile, Yin Yu had become absorbed in whatever it was Shi Qingxuan had sent him. Curious, Feng Xin leaned over to see over his injured shoulder. Though he couldn’t parse out what exactly was on his screen, Yin Yu had noticed Feng Xin’s interest and began to explain while continuing to fidget with the device, “Shi Qingxuan sent me Xie Lian’s number, I’m working on connecting to it to find its last known location…” Yin Yu paused. Feng Xin raised an eyebrow, belatedly realizing that Yin Yu was too engrossed in his work to see it. “What’s wrong?” Feng Xin asked instead. “I think I know who took our guy.” Hoping to glean a little more, Feng Xin’s eyes focused back only to widen in shock. “Oh shit.”