Chapter Text
The weather was perfect for an outdoor wedding.
Mu Qing glanced up at the baby blue sky and took a deep breath. The sun felt nice against his skin — just on the right side of warm without being insufferable — and without a cloud in sight. If his weather app from this morning was to be believed, it would continue looking this way for the rest of the week.
Yes, it was perfect wedding weather.
Not that it mattered to him, necessarily, but it meant the hundreds of flowers he was currently loading into the delivery van wouldn’t end up shoved into some random backup indoor venue in a half-assed attempt to save the big day. He carefully lined up the vases in the plastic holders, making sure none of the flowers were crushed by the proximity of its neighbors, before stepping back to admire his handiwork. Stacked and carefully laid out were rows upon rows of beautiful flowers. The scent wafted over him as he took another deep breath.
Today was a very good day to get married, and he was very glad it had nothing to do with him.
Weddings were stressful, and easily the worst part of his job. He much preferred the walk-ins — from proud mothers, to forlorn husbands, to nervous boyfriends, to independent women who just wanted something pretty for themselves. Getting the flowers ready, arranged, and making sure they were adequately protected from damage during shipment was enough work as it was without factoring in the additional tasks and social interactions expected of big events.
Luckily, his boss was all too happy to take care of that side of the business.
Speaking of his boss, the door to the shop opened, and Xie Lian walked out carrying another crate of bouquets. Mu Qing’s nose wrinkled as he looked from the crate to the van and back.
“There’s no way,” he deadpanned.
“Huh?” Xie Lian had to completely turn his body to look around the flowers and see Mu Qing — and the problem waiting in the van. His face dropped. “Oh, no! But this is the last batch. What are we going to do?”
Mu Qing pursed his lips in thought before walking over to the passenger door and opening it for him. Xie Lian beamed, understanding immediately, and placed the crate on the seat. For safekeeping, Mu Qing even buckled the flowers in. Just in case. As the buckle clicked into place, Mu Qing eyed the large bridal bouquet sucking up the majority of the space within the box, nearly the width of his torso — a beautiful array of deep reds and whites.
“You really went all out,” Mu Qing admired.
Xie Lian smiled. “Well, it’s for Feng Xin, so of course I did.”
The name meant nothing to Mu Qing, though he understood that the guy meant a lot to Xie Lian. Not that Xie Lian hadn’t spoken at length about Feng Xin during the entire ordeal of preparing this order, or the countless other mentions before that, but Mu Qing would usually just tune him out.
Once Xie Lian got going on a topic that interested him, it was better to simply let him talk himself out rather than cut him off — even if Mu Qing was wholly uninterested in what (or who) was being discussed.
“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Mu Qing said, only being marginally sarcastic.
“Well, it’s not for him, obviously,” Xie Lian laughed, “but you know what I mean. I guess I should—”
His words were cut off by the Pirates of the Caribbean theme suddenly playing from his pants. Blinking, Xie Lian reached into his pocket to pull out his old brick phone while Mu Qing snickered quietly to himself.
Weeks ago, he’d changed Xie Lian’s ringtone for his husband to the franchise theme as a dig toward the man. Xie Lian, being too technologically stupid, had not figured out how to change it back. And Hua Cheng, who was too fucking stubborn for his own good, had let it go — probably in a show of being unbothered to save his pride. Maybe the lack of reaction had bothered Mu Qing a little bit in the beginning, but now he got a kick out of his private joke anytime the boss’s husband called.
“San Lang?” Xie Lian answered. “Hi, yeah! One second—” He placed his hand over the receiver. “Mu Qing, can you finish getting the van ready to go? I’ll be just a minute.”
“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Mu Qing said.
Xie Lian flashed him a thankful smile before he headed back into the store for some privacy. The bright white, pink, and teal sign hung over the entrance proudly announced the shop as BUDdy sySTEM in English. The two Y’s in the name were connected via a very artfully designed vine of leaves and pink flowers. Most of their customers could not read English, and those that could did not know the language well enough to understand the joke. That hadn’t stopped Xie Lian from enthusiastically naming his store the pun with a broad smile.
The same logo, down to the bubble letters, was painted on the side of the white van — courtesy of Hua Cheng. It was literally the only new thing about their delivery van. Mu Qing was pretty sure the thing had once been used to deliver pizzas based on the strange marinara smell that refused to completely dissipate from the cushioned seating. Every time the vehicle started, it was another miracle. Something demonic lived in that engine, and Mu Qing was just glad that deliveries were not typically part of his job description.
He manned the store. He sold flowers to random customers. He swept and pruned and made bouquets.
And right now, he prepared the van to leave by closing the loading door after double-checking the stability of the stacked bouquets in the back. He was just rounding the vehicle to begin the long arduous process of coaxing the engine to life when Xie Lian exited the store once more, the chiming bell signaling his emergence.
Mu Qing froze. Xie Lian’s face was ashen gray, and he clutched his phone tightly in his fist, like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to put it up or throw it.
“What’s wrong?” Mu Qing asked.
Xie Lian looked up at him as if he’d never seen anything like him before. “San Lang, he…” He swallowed thickly. “There’s been an accident.”
Mu Qing’s stomach dropped.
He moved around the van to approach Xie Lian cautiously, not sure if his boss was about to lash out or collapse, but Mu Qing felt like he needed to be nearby and prepared for anything. Xie Lian was a strong person; he knew how to keep things in. However, even he had his limits — or so Mu Qing had been told. He’d only ever seen Xie Lian in his piecing himself back together era.
“What kind of accident?” he asked, keeping his voice low and gentle.
“A… A car accident.” Xie Lian took a steadying breath. “San Lang’s in the hospital. He says he’s okay, but…”
“Go.”
Xie Lian’s eyes widened. “What?”
Mu Qing shot him a look. “Don’t tell me you were actually considering not going?”
“But Feng Xin’s wedding…”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Oh my God. Some rich bitch is going to be fine with the boss’s assistant setting up her flowers. Your friend’s wedding will be fine.”
Xie Lian’s doe eyes watered. “But you hate doing events…”
“Yeah, well, not as much as I’m sure you hated getting that phone call, so it’s whatever,” Mu Qing quickly dismissed. He did not do well with this emotional stuff, and his skin itched in discomfort. “It’s fine. I’ve helped you set up before, and they had a wedding planner, right?”
Xie Lian nodded eagerly. “Shi Qingxuan. She’s wonderful! She can tell you where everything is supposed to go and where to deliver the bouquets—!”
“Then it’ll be fine,” Mu Qing said. And because he felt like Xie Lian needed it, he repeated himself once more, “Go. And message me from the hospital.”
Sure, Mu Qing didn’t like Xie Lian’s asshole of a husband, but that didn’t mean he wanted him hurt. God, he could see Xie Lian’s hands shaking from here, and all he’d been told was that he was at the hospital. From Hua Cheng’s number. Which meant the menace himself had probably called, so he couldn’t be that bad off. Unless one of the nurses had felt it imperative to get in touch with a family member as quickly as possible by dialing the emergency contact on the phone—
No, Xie Lian wouldn’t have even hesitated if that were the case.
Xie Lian sniffled and threw his arms around Mu Qing’s neck. Mu Qing grunted under the sudden weight and looked away, trying to bite back a blush. Awkwardly, he patted Xie Lian on the back twice before, mercifully, it ended. Xie Lian’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he gripped Mu Qing’s biceps.
“You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Xie Lian said.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Mu Qing muttered. “I’ll lock up the store, and then I’ll get going.”
—
The venue was beautiful. Textured stone walls lined the perimeter covered in delicate vinery with little peach flowers in full bloom. Full floral gardens stretched as far as the eye could see. Mu Qing knew the wedding was supposed to be an outdoor service, but even the building with its large glass double-door entrance and embossed cornice mouldings looked gorgeous. He could imagine the ballrooms and receiving halls settled deep within.
In other words, he felt completely out of place as he hopped out of the BUDdy sySTEM van dressed in his black ripped jeans, lace-up boots, dark purple crop top with a cartoon cat playing with a ball of yellow yarn over a mesh t-shirt, and black choker. Several ritzed up guests glanced in his direction as he walked over to the sliding doors of the van, and he tried to hide his discomfort behind a scowl.
(It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t like he planned on going to a formal wedding today, and he hadn’t exactly had time to go home and change into his black tie best. Plus, Xie Lian didn’t have a dress code, so he wasn’t doing or wearing anything wrong!)
The door slid open, and he leaned in to grab the first large crate. God, there were so many. Xie Lian was supposed to have Hua Cheng help unload the flowers; that was why he’d been on the road. Now the entire job fell solely on Mu Qing’s shoulders. The sight was overwhelming.
Get a grip, he told himself.
He was no stranger to hard work. He would simply add this to the long list of reasons he hated doing events. He imagined marching up to Xie Lian and telling him, “Never again!” after this was over.
But knowing the flower shop owner, Xie Lian would take it seriously. The next time something came up or he needed an extra pair of hands, he’d hesitate to ask Mu Qing, and all because he’d been a dick.
No, Mu Qing couldn’t do that.
Two people in a suit and cocktail dress respectively walked by, openly staring at Mu Qing aghast. Mu Qing resisted the urge to hiss at them to see if they’d flinch.
“Hello!”
Startled as the voice sounded behind him, Mu Qing whipped around so fast, his ponytail slapped the sudden arrival in the face. The woman squeaked and stumbled backwards, nearly losing her footing on precariously tall heels. Then she shook herself and laughed.
“Um, sorry about that!” she apologized, even though she was the one that got lashed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Mu Qing went from humiliated to guarded as he regarded the woman in front of him. She was tall, busty, and wearing a tight fitting teal-colored suit. She wore a pink pocket square in her blazer jacket breast pocket with her thick curls pulled back by a chic matching hairpin. In one hand was a clipboard — in the other a fuzzy pink pen.
Clearly, she worked for the venue, and she was about to get on his case about illegal parking, or not being allowed here, or something, and he was not looking forward to the argument that was about to break out. She looked around him into the van and then toward the driver’s side before tilting her head.
“Where’s Xie Lian?”
The rising tension he’d been imagining as he prepared for the inevitable confrontation froze then dissipated. He scowled in annoyance, forced to adjust his opinion of her.
“He had an emergency,” Mu Qing said. “Shi Qingxuan?”
The woman beamed. “That’s me! Oh! And you must be Mu Qing, right?”
She held out her hand with perfectly manicured nails, which reminded Mu Qing that his own nail polish was chipped in about four different places. Not wanting to be a total gremlin, he took her hand to shake.
“Yeah.”
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she gushed. “You’ve only worked with Xie Lian for like… what? Five years?”
“Six,” Mu Qing mumbled.
“We’ve been trying to get you to one of our get togethers since forever!”
“I’m aware,” Mu Qing said.
Now that he knew he was not in any danger of getting Xie Lian’s precious baby of a van towed, he went back to considering the job at hand. He really didn’t have time to waste standing around chit chatting, but simply looking at the load made his limbs feel tired. He was perfectly capable of carrying everything in on his own, of course. But that didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to.
Just like he hadn’t ever wanted to meet Xie Lian’s… people. Hua Cheng had been impossible to avoid with him constantly showing up without any warning to lavish Xie Lian with kisses and food. Mu Qing had witnessed enough PDA to last a lifetime. He felt he’d earned his dislike of the demon, even if he could begrudgingly admit that sometimes they were cute — and okay, yeah, he made Xie Lian happy, but still.
Everyone else, however?
Xie Lian was his boss. When Mu Qing had taken the job at BUDdy sySTEM, he’d been down on his luck. Xie Lian had seen something in him — probably a bit of his own shit luck reflected in Mu Qing’s dark gaze — and hired him despite his lack of experience. Mu Qing owed him. To call them friends felt… strange. Even if that was what they felt like. Sometimes. When he wasn’t convincing himself they were just employer and employee. Most days, Mu Qing could be worn down enough to admit they were maybe, kinda, probably, some form of… friends.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to be inducted into some sort of clique. He’d never had any friends — let alone a friend group — so why would he start now? He was nearing thirty, perfectly happy with his life, and saw absolutely no reason to change anything. Not even in the face of Xie Lian’s heartbreaking doe-eyed begging expression.
“Oh. Well.” Shi Qingxuan gave an awkward laugh, socially aware enough to know she’d just been dismissed. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You already said that,” Mu Qing pointed out.
“Right… um…”
Shi Qingxuan glanced down at her clipboard as if it would give her some clue of how to dissipate the awkwardness.
It wouldn’t.
Mu Qing had a unique way of killing friendly atmospheres. He considered it a gift that assisted him in avoiding unnecessary small talk. But it was more of a curse when it was clear that small talk was the difference between making and breaking a sale.
Mu Qing took a deep breath to recalibrate himself. He didn’t want to ruin BUDdy sySTEM’s reputation with a sour attitude, which meant he had to remember how to not be such a sourpuss. He forced an uncomfortable smile. “Xie Lian said you could help me figure out where everything is supposed to go? I’m not really up to speed on the specifics since I wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Shi Qingxuan practically glowed at the words. “Absolutely! I can definitely help with that. And I can get you some nice strong men to help carry all of this in, too.”
Mu Qing scowled, fighting the impulse to refute needing any nice strong men to do anything. But he bit his tongue. He had been internally bemoaning the idea of carrying everything in on his own; he wouldn’t let his pride stop him from pushing the labor off onto someone else.
“You can leave the van here for now! I’ll give you a very quick tour of the place and placement rundown,” Shi Qingxuan continued as she turned to start walking up toward the building, her heels clicking on the stone walkway.
Mu Qing quickly threw the van side door closed before he hurried after her. “How much time do we have?”
“Just a little over two hours,” Shi Qingxuan said, giving a tight smile. “So, we’re cutting it a little close, but it’s okay! We’ll make it work.”
“Xie Lian would have been here earlier,” Mu Qing blurted out.
“Oh, I know!” Shi Qingxuan said quickly, waving off the explanation. “Xie Lian’s wonderful. The best! I love working with him. What was the emergency?” She winced. “Sorry, sorry! That’s probably none of my business.”
Mu Qing didn’t say anything — because frankly, he agreed. If Xie Lian wanted people to know that Hua Cheng had been in an accident, he could tell them himself. He wasn’t Xie Lian’s messenger, even if he was his employee. As they reached the top of the railed stone steps, they came upon a group of three gentlemen congregating near one of the white linen covered tables. They were all smartly dressed in suits, though their styles varied wildly.
One of them looked as if he’d never worn a suit in his life. Though the suit was technically fitted rather well, the shirt was untucked, the tie loose, and his curly hair haphazardly thrown into a ponytail. It was a clear attempt to simply keep the frizz out of his face — which seemed rather pointless with his bangs curling into his eyes.
The second man looked straight out of a Men’s Magazine. Tall and broad, with a permanent smolder etched into his face, the man could have been a model or a total douchebag. As beautiful as he was, Mu Qing couldn’t help but wonder how many diseases he was currently carrying. He just gave off the vibe of an idiot dudebro who would pick up partners at the club, and then not bother to wear a condom.
And the last man…
Mu Qing’s mouth went dry.
Holy. Shit.
For as long as Mu Qing could remember, he’d never understood the idea that someone could look at a person and feel instant animalistic sexual attraction. Sure, he’d found people attractive here and there, but he’d never once thought that he’d bend over for someone if they asked the moment he met them. This man, however, made Mu Qing want to check his makeup and rub his thighs together as his pants grew a little tight.
Standing as tall as Mr Magazine, the man of Mu Qing’s wet dreams was a real life Adonis.
Bronze skin speckled with freckles and a contagious smile that used every single muscle in his face, he didn’t seem real. More like a painting. He wore a slick black suit that fitted his buff body to perfection, showing off his broad shoulders and thick arms, and his hands — Mu Qing never had a thing for hands until this very moment — dwarfed the champagne flute held in his grasp. They were probably large enough to encapsulate Mu Qing’s entire waist, and, well, wasn’t that a nice thought? His dark chestnut hair was pulled off of his neck in a bun, showing off his ears, one of which was decorated with a single gold hoop.
“Oh, boys!” Shi Qingxuan called as she led Mu Qing over to them, which really didn’t help his racing heart. “Can you do us a little favor?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” said Drop Dead Gorgeous.
“The flowers just arrived—”
Drop Dead Gorgeous brightened. “Xie Lian’s here?”
Shi Qingxuan frowned. “No. He had some sort of emergency come up—”
“The fuck!?”
Well, at least Drop Dead Gorgeous’s vocabulary brought him back to mortal levels.
“What kind of emergency?” He fished around in his jacket pocket to pull out his phone. A moment later, his eyes widened. “Holy shit. Hua Cheng was in a car accident.”
Shi Qingxuan gasped. “Oh no! Is he okay?”
“He says… he should be fine, but he’s in a lot of pain and is headed into surgery. He’s not going to be able to fucking make it. Shit! What the Hell are we supposed to do!?”
“No, no, it’s okay!” Shi Qingxuan interrupted. “The flowers are here. Mu Qing brought them!”
All three of the suited up men finally noticed Mu Qing’s presence as Shi Qingxuan gestured in his direction with a flourish. The petty part of Mu Qing wanted to do jazz hands for emphasis. Instead, he simply blinked.
Continuing with the introductions, Shi Qingxuan said, “Mu Qing, this is Quan Yizhen, Pei Ming, and Feng Xin — the groom!”
Mu Qing’s world tilted.
The groom. Of course. Of course Mr Handsome was the goddamn groom.
Shame like he had never felt before flooded his system, and he wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. His weight shifted from one foot to the other as his gaze dropped to his boots. They were scuffed. He should have really worn better shoes today, but he hadn’t realized—
“You’re Mu Qing?” Feng Xin asked.
His voice sounded strange, forcing Mu Qing to look up with a guarded expression. Even the look on Feng Xin’s face was odd, like he didn’t know what to do with the man in front of him. Mu Qing didn’t like it one bit. Had Feng Xin noticed him lusting over him a moment ago? Was he judging the clothes Mu Qing dared to wear to his stupid wedding? What the hell was he thinking to be making that ugly fucking face?
Trying to make himself feel better, and put some space between those strange sexual urges he’d had moments ago and the reality of the situation, Mu Qing said the only thing that he could think of: “You have something in your teeth.”
“Shit!” Feng Xin turned away, covering his mouth as his tongue went to work to find the invisible piece of food.
“So, Xie Lian is with his husband, but we have the lovely Mu Qing here instead,” Pei Ming said, holding out his hand to shake.
Mu Qing really didn’t want to, but reminding himself that he was representing BUDdy sySTEM, he gave over his hand. Instead of shaking it, Pei Ming brought the appendage to his lips. Mu Qing sneered in disgust, yanking it back to openly wipe on his jeans. Being a representative or not, he wasn’t going to stand around and accept gross behavior from pigs.
“Ew!” Shi Qingxuan complained, immediately making Mu Qing feel vindicated. “Why are you so gross!?”
Pei Ming simply chuckled.
“Hi,” Quan Yizhen said, keeping his hands in his pockets, which was just fine with Mu Qing.
“Did I get it?” Feng Xin asked.
Pei Ming stared at his grill for a moment before clapping him on his shoulder. “You’re good to go, my friend. Now… what can we do to help?”
Mu Qing wanted their help even less now, but time was ticking by. His internal clock told him they had passed the two hours and counting mark. Even with help, he would really need to hustle to get everything setup before the music started.
“Um…” Shi Qingxuan lost the battle with the urge to check her phone, and her eyes widened as she took in the text on the screen. “Oh no! He-xiong isn’t coming either! He’s headed to the hospital to check on Hua Cheng. And Yin Yu’s with him. All of my help is gone, just like that!”
Quan Yizhen glowered. “Shixiong isn’t coming?”
“Don’t you dare think about fucking leaving!” Feng Xin snapped.
Probably just in time too, since Quan Yizhen had been halfway through a heel-point turn, as if intent on walking off. He pouted as he turned back but looked resigned to his fate as he stayed put.
“Okay, okay, this is fine! This is absolutely fine. We’ve got this.”
Whether Shi Qingxuan was speaking to herself or the gathered group was unclear, but Mu Qing figured her own internal countdown was starting to set off alarm bells. That probably explained why Shi Qingxuan looked positively antsy as she all but ran, leading the way back toward the van. In rapidfire succession, she began to tell them the plan. Since Mu Qing had yet to get that tour she promised, all of it went over his head, and he found himself spacing out as he followed toward the back of the group alone.
“You know,” Feng Xin said abruptly, nearly startling Mu Qing right out of his skin, “Xie Lian has been trying to get us together for a while.”
Mu Qing glared at him, pissed that he dared to even speak to him. “Yeah, I’ve been informed.”
“I’ve wanted us to get together too,” Feng Xin continued.
Mu Qing shot him a look of disbelief. “You don’t even know me.”
“Well, fuck, no, I don’t,” Feng Xin admitted, “but I wanted to thank you.”
That was even more bizarre. “Thank me?!”
“Why are you making this so fucking weird?” Feng Xin grumbled. “Yes, thank you — for being there for Xie Lian when I fucking wasn’t.”
Mu Qing didn’t know what to say to that. Hell, he didn’t know how to react to that.
He thought back to that random autumn day he’d wandered into the little store with the “HELP WANTED (inquire within)” sign sat out front. He’d had the passing thought that any business without a website was destined to fail, so he shouldn’t even bother, before walking in anyway. The owner being a young man his age had been a surprise — as had the complete and utter disarray of the shop. Sure, the store wasn’t due to open for a few days… But Mu Qing had never seen such chaos in his life, and that was saying something as someone who had been scraping by on the income from cleaning little old lady’s apartments the last few years.
Xie Lian had been a mess. A gentle, kind mess but still a mess.
Even after Mu Qing was given the job with only the lukewarm promise of probably getting paid soon (at least as soon as Xie Lian figured out the shop’s financials), he’d still shown up. He supposed Xie Lian wasn’t the only one that had seen something familiar reflected back at him; the lost look in Xie Lian’s eyes had spoken to Mu Qing as well.
He understood that feeling.
That hopelessness.
He’d felt that way since he was a kid — and he at least understood a bit more about accounting than Xie Lian. It turned out the man knew nothing about working a computer, or filing taxes, or even how to pay his one and only employee. So Mu Qing had taken control of all of that.
(He’d also gotten them a website — because what kind of business didn’t have one in today’s world?)
It took a while before Xie Lian opened up to Mu Qing about the shit show his life had become. Once he did, Mu Qing had to work hard not to outwardly react to the harrowing realization he’d watched the Xie family crumble in real time on the news. Every Sunday, he sat with his mother as the weekly news program played, and for months, the Breaking News! segment had been overrun with the Xie family scandal, culminating in the suicides of the Xie patriarch and matriarch. Soon followed by the nephew’s arrest and subsequent prison sentence. And the heir…
Well, Mu Qing worked for him now, he supposed.
“Why are you thanking me?” Mu Qing shot out. “It’s not like I went out of my way to do anything. He gave me a job; we work together. That’s it.”
Feng Xin’s eyebrows rose. “Wow. That’s fucking cold as ice. Whatever. You don’t give a shit. Got it.”
“That’s not what I—!”
Mu Qing started to protest, but they’d reached the van. He didn't want to continue this stupid little argument in front of witnesses, so he clamped his mouth shut. Feng Xin seemed more than happy to get away from him as he hurried forward to pick up a crate.
Mu Qing mentally banged his head against a wall.
Sometimes, he really fucking hated his smartass mouth, but this outcome was probably for the best. The last thing he needed was any part of him lusting after his best friend’s soon-to-be married best friend.