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The live was over, and they could finally relax. Usually, Yu Teng didn’t really enjoy doing it — mostly because he had to talk a lot in monologue mode — but today he’d been with Zi Hong, and later Evan had joined them, and that made it completely different. He felt comfortable, just answering a few questions and goofing around now and then, and he was quietly grateful to both of them for that.
He and Zi Hong had agreed to watch the new episode together after the live, and there were about fifteen minutes left before it came out on WeTV — just enough time to switch gears a bit, get ready, and focus on watching.
Yu stretched his legs with pleasure and raised his arms high, letting out a long groan as he stretched and squinted in delight. After sitting for so long, his limbs had gone a little stiff, and now it felt wonderfully good to feel them move again. Smiling, Zi Hong watched him closely and, unable to resist, mischievously poked him in the ribs and started tickling. Yu immediately yelped, laughed, and pushed his hands away.
“Hey! Stop it,” he giggled, squealing as he tried to dodge the tickles.
“‘Hey, stop it,’” Zi Hong mimicked in a high-pitched voice, and immediately got a firm shove in the shoulder, which sent them both into another fit of wild laughter. But Zi Hong didn’t stop, pulling silly faces and clearly planning to drive Yu to hysterics. Yu was already breathless and flushed from laughing and trying to escape. Finally, he managed to grab Zi Hong’s wrists and put an end to the cruel torment. Still breathing hard, Yu tightened his grip and frowned in warning.
“Lin Zi Hong,” he said convincingly, raising his eyebrows and twitching nervously at every small movement Zi Hong made, afraid he might break free and continue the torture.
“All right, all right,” Zi Hong says, his smile softening — but Yu doesn’t hurry to let go of his hands until he’s absolutely sure he’s safe. Watching him warily, he slowly loosens his grip — only to squeeze tight again with a startled yelp when Zi Hong suddenly jerks toward him. The move sends Zi Hong into another burst of laughter, tears welling in his eyes from how funny it is.
“You should’ve seen your face,” Zi Hong says, trying to catch his breath, but he can’t help laughing again as he mimics Yu Teng’s yelp and sulky little expression.
“These hands are going to be around your neck in a minute, and we’ll see your face when I choke you,” Yu says, suddenly very serious. Zi Hong falls silent at once, eyes wide with surprise — clearly not expecting that reaction. Yu can be frighteningly convincing when he wants to be. “Seriously — enough.”
Zi Hong lifts his open palms as high as he can in a gesture of surrender, nodding in agreement, and Yu, still frowning, finally releases his wrists — but not without giving his forearm a sharp slap in revenge for the emotional damage. Then he gets up and heads for the fridge, ignoring the ridiculous scene behind him: Zi Hong dramatically collapses sideways onto the bed, clutching his “injured” arm and groaning in mock agony.
“Beer?” Yu asks, opening the fridge and scanning its contents. When there’s no answer, he turns around with a questioning look. Zi Hong has already calmed down and is casually turning on Yu’s computer to set up the episode stream. Feeling Yu’s gaze, he looks up, and Yu repeats his question. Then, after a brief pause, he adds, a little shyly, “You can stay over, if you want. By the time we’re done, it’ll be late, and you usually go to bed early. We’re heading to the shoot together tomorrow anyway. And take off that jacket — it’s not that cold in here.”
Zi Hong studies his face closely, eyes narrowing. The intensity of his gaze makes Yu a little uneasy; something flickers across Zi Hong’s expression — something strange — but before Yu can make sense of it, Zi Hong’s face smooths into an unreadable smile. He slips off his jacket and casually drapes it over the back of the chair, turning back to the computer.
Now he’s down to a black T-shirt that fits him perfectly, showing off his well-built frame and strong arms. Yu can’t help smiling; he’s always liked black, and he genuinely thinks it suits Zi Hong too. Funny thing — they and Yu Teng often end up dressing in black at the same time (pure coincidence, of course). Still, it works out well; together, they look effortlessly in sync, which definitely better the show’s promotion.
Mutual compliments and noticing each other’s appearance had been a thing between them since the set, and for Yu, there was nothing awkward or strange about it. His eyesight wasn’t perfect, that’s true, but he wasn’t blind, and he certainly wasn’t incapable of recognizing beauty. He considered himself more than able to appreciate the attractiveness of the people around him — and Zi Hong, he genuinely thought, was beautiful. He didn’t hesitate to think it, or even say it out loud.
“If Ray and Chi Tian found out, can you imagine what would happen?” Zi Hong laughs, clicking the mouse.
“Worse than now? Not a chance,” Yu says with a sweet smile, shrugging as he reaches into the fridge. “They tease us all the time anyway.” He pulls out two cans of beer, placing them on the counter one after the other. After a moment’s thought, he grabs two more and sets them beside the first pair. Then, bending down, he starts hunting through the shelves for some snacks.
“Is that a whole bar in there?” Zi Hong comes up behind him and peeks over his shoulder, making Yu flinch and step back a little.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he says, pushing Zi Hong in the shoulder. “It’s not a bar, I just grabbed a few things for the evening.”
“A few things?” Zi Hong widens his eyes comically, poking at the two six-packs of beer. “Yang Yu Teng, save your liver!”
Yu pushes Zi Hong again, this time in the side, shoving him away from the fridge and ignoring his exaggerated look of shock.
“Go on,” he says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, finally pulling out a few cold snacks and closing the fridge door.
Meanwhile, Zi Hong has already set up the stream, arranged the beers on the low table, sat down, and is staring at Yu expectantly, his huge eyes sparkling as he impatiently pats his knees, making ridiculous faces.
The excitement from the live had already faded a little, and Yu Teng was starting to feel slightly nervous again. When was the last time someone had come over… never? At least not in this apartment. And Zi Hong carried himself as if he lived there, so comfortably and relaxed. Yu didn’t mind, of course — he had even suggested it himself — but Zi Hong was actually going to be at his place all night. Well… it was a good excuse to improve their dynamic for the show’s promotion. To get to know each other better, even though, in a way, they were already pretty close.
“If you want,” Yu said hesitantly, glancing at Zi Hong as he pulled plates from the wall cabinet, “we could make some noodles.”
“The snacks are enough; we’re not trying to get drunk out of our minds,” Zi Hong smiled, tapping the back of his wrist with his index finger as a reminder of the time. “And the episode is starting soon — you won’t make it,” he added, his face lighting up with the next joke that popped into his head. “But if you plan on drinking everything in your fridge, then it’s definitely going to come in handy!”
“Lin Zi Hong!”
Finally, they sit down. The familiar hiss of opening beer cans fills the air, and the two quietly clink their drinks under the WeTV intro, whispering, “Kampai.”
Those three cherished notes seem to flip a switch: Zi Hong suddenly turns serious, slipping into work mode. No smirks, no teasing, no jokes. They dive into every scene, noting what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes Zi Hong pauses to explain something to Yu Teng, who nods attentively, listening closely and trying to remember and absorb every bit of advice.
Yu really likes this side of Zi Hong: he can literally feel the respect and reverence for his experience and perspective. When he’s not goofing around and behaves composedly — even somewhat professionally — Yu can’t help but watch him, genuinely admiring his professionalism.
And the opposite is true for himself: seeing his own performance on screen, he winces awkwardly, embarrassed by his acting and pronunciation. Zi Hong encourages him, firmly forbidding him from thinking poorly of himself. Yet he remains fair and objective, giving Yu Teng constructive criticism while pointing out genuinely successful lines or reactions from Zhou Shui. On set, he always guided Yu, who followed his directions without question. Sometimes, Yu even couldn’t tell who his real director was — Jiang Rui Zhi or Lin Zi Hong?
The first two beers disappeared quickly — just like the episode — and Yu had already gone back to the fridge for more. Now Zi Hong was bringing another round of beer and some snacks. With eager energy, they continued analyzing Shide and Shuyi’s characters, their motives, inner states, the plot, and upcoming promotional events. In that short span of time, they managed to cover so much, smoothly shifting from one topic to another.
Their engaging conversation paused when Yu Teng excused himself to the bathroom. There, he removed his contact lenses and washed off the makeup he’d put on to look better for the live: a bit of foundation and concealer, touched up around the eyes, which were now starting to ache. Yu dried his face with a towel, habitually put on his glasses, and stepped out — only to freeze abruptly in the doorway. Zi Hong, clearly a little tipsy, nearly spilled the beer he’d been sipping from the can, his eyes wide as he stared at Yu.
“Yang Yu Teng!” Zi Hong shouts far too loudly, making Yu jump and start to panic. What had he done wrong? Or was there something on his face? He quickly lifts a hand to his cheek, touching it and looking at Zi Hong with concern. “I thought you couldn’t possibly get any cuter, but you’ve outdone yourself.”
Zi Hong beams, and a sigh of relief escapes Yu’s chest before he can stop it.
“Stop it,” he grumbles, switching off the bathroom light and sitting back down at the table. His cheeks are already flushed from the alcohol, and now added embarrassment blooms as he realizes Zi Hong has seen him in glasses. He’d gotten so relaxed from their engaging conversation and a few beers that being in the same apartment with Zi Hong felt completely natural — and he had completely forgotten that he usually feels self-conscious wearing glasses around anyone but family.
When he first entered the modeling world, it had been made very clear that he needed to wear contact lenses. That idea had become so deeply ingrained that Yu had come to think of glasses as something that ruined his face. For a moment he hesitates, thinking about taking them off, even reaching for the frame — but his hand freezes halfway, and to avoid looking ridiculous, he just scratches his nose instead. After all, Zi Hong has already seen everything. And, perhaps, he even liked his reaction.
Yu takes a sip from his can and sighs — this little incident had completely shattered the charm of their engaging conversation, and Zi Hong had turned back into his usual self — that is, ridiculous. Right now, he’s leaning close to Yu, scrutinizing his glasses. The air suddenly feels hot, Zi Hong’s dark eyes unnervingly close, and Yu can’t help feeling tense under that piercing, inspecting gaze. He wants to pull back, stealing a glance at the window to make sure it’s open, but Zi Hong starts practically firing questions at him:
“How long have you been wearing them? Why don’t you wear them? You really are so cute in them—” Zi Hong’s gaze lingers on Yu’s lips, and Yu blinks, flustered, before Zi Hong bursts into a laugh, covering his mouth, guessing the truth. “You’re shy!”
“Back off,” Yu mutters, giving him the habitual poke in the shoulder, and Zi Hong giggles, clearly pleased that he’s right. Embarrassed, Yu takes a few more sips of cold beer, trying not to look at him. He’s used to Zi Hong watching his lips—usually because he speaks quietly, and Zi Hong is reading them — but now that gaze makes his throat go inexplicably dry. Yu hastily washes down the sudden dryness with a couple more swigs of beer. Either way, the atmosphere is irreversibly changed.
Yu is saved from further awkwardness by a notification on the iPad. Setting his beer down on the table, he picks it up and opens a message from Evan:
"Great live, guys! You look so cute together~ The episode’s really good too! By the way, I’m sure Zi Hong is staying over at your place tonight, so I came up with a little activity for you two—don’t get bored <3"
…and a few links below.
“What’s this?” Zi Hong asks, taking a sip of his beer and leaning over to peek at Yu’s iPad.
“I don’t know,” Yu shrugs, tapping one of the random links. “Evan found something for us.” While the page loads, he takes a sip and sets his can back on the table. Zi Hong watches the spinning loading circle in the center of the screen in silence for a moment before turning to Yu.
“You really do have bad internet — do something about it.”
Yu waves him off with a mock-annoyed smile, and just as the page starts to load, they both lean in, eyes glued to the screen.
“Ah…” Zi Hong is the first to speak, studying the site that’s opened. “I know this… it’s those… what are they called…” He wrinkles his brow, closes his eyes, and snaps his fingers as if that’ll jog his memory.
“Fanfics?” Yu Teng ventures, uncertainly, and Zi Hong immediately nods, snapping his fingers again in confirmation and pointing at Yu with his index finger, raising his beer in a silent toast to his guess.
“Yes-yes-yes, those,” he says, taking a sip and squinting. “The fans just won’t calm down; they’re waiting for us to get married,” he lets out a strange, muffled laugh. But Yu barely hears him —an idea hits him at that very moment. The best one all evening. He’s secretly proud of himself for coming up with it and mentally thanks Evan for the hint.
Zi Hong is always teasing him and making him feel awkward. It’s the perfect moment for Yu to take the reins and get a little revenge for the embarrassments and suffering. He’s heard bits from Evan and Chi Tian about fan creativity — there are some rather elaborate fantasies about him and Zi Hong. He tolerates alcohol well, but a few cans are starting to show, and now he’s more convinced than ever that this is the best way to make Zi Hong nervous and flustered; to let him feel what Yu feels when, thoughtlessly, Yu throws out his dumb jokes and makes Zi Hong blush and trip over his words.
And with the sweetest smile he can muster, Yu Teng suggests:
“Shall we read them?” Yu asks, making his voice sound as casual as possible, hiding the tight tension strung thin inside him. For added effect, he takes a swig of beer and smiles carelessly, staring straight at Zi Hong, who freezes for a fraction of a second, unable to reach for his own can. Judging by the comical stretch of his face, Yu knows he’s on the right track. He’s got excellent control — he doesn’t even twitch an eyebrow as Zi Hong looks like a total fool — and he continues executing his sly, brilliantly devious plan. “I’ve never read them,” he adds smoothly.
Zi Hong ends up choking on air, and Yu pats his back with feigned concern, secretly giving himself a mental checkmark for a successful provocation. Coughing, Zi Hong, flushed all over, glances repeatedly between Yu and the screen. He raises his brows with a skeptical smile, scanning Yu’s face for any sign of trickery, but it slowly dawns on him that Yu is utterly serious. Yu Teng is an excellent actor — it’s undeniable.
“Do you really want to do this?” he finally asks, with a seriousness that almost feels out of place.
“Why not?” Oh yes, he wants this. Yu is riding the wave of excitement, fully enjoying the process and determined to see it through. “Do you think there’s anything scary? It’s all just made-up stuff or jokes. I’m curious to see how the fans imagine us. Besides, maybe it’ll help us understand our characters better. I’m sure they write about Gao Shide and Zhou Shuyi too.”
“They write about a lot of things,” Zi Hong says casually, smirking, while Yu raises an eyebrow, entirely focused on his goal.
“All the more interesting,” he adds, lowering his voice slightly to make it sound more persuasive and compelling.
Zi Hong wrinkles his brow, rubbing his neck, confused as he looks at the iPad in Yu’s hands. Yu is thrilled inside, fully aware of what this reaction means. He’s genuinely entertained watching Zi Hong lose his usual confidence—it’s actually really funny. Yu Teng finally realizes that this is probably what Zi Hong feels when teasing him. He has to admit, it’s a rather pleasant sensation, one that could easily become addictive.
“Then we’ll need more beer,” Zi Hong mutters into the air, getting up without really looking at Yu Teng. As he gathers the empty cans to toss them straight into the trash, he looks tense, biting his lip—but Yu is too caught up in his brilliantly devious plan to notice, eyes glued to the screen.
“What does Explicit mean? Right here,” Yu lifts his head and turns the iPad toward Zi Hong, pointing at the red icon in the corner. Zi Hong grabs two more cans from the fridge, closes the door with his foot, and comes back. He sets one can on the table between the snack plates and hands the other to Yu, who nods in thanks and gestures for Zi Hong to put it on the table beside his own. Then, leaning closer, Yu holds the iPad up for him. Zi Hong opens the can for Yu, sets it down, and leans in to see what Yu is showing, tilting his head slightly. After a few seconds, he looks back at Yu, straightens up, shrugs, and grins as he sits down beside him.
“Read it, and you’ll find out,” he finally says, still grinning. He pops open his own can, and beer foam hisses out. Zi Hong leans forward sharply, taking a careful sip to avoid spilling. Yu shoots him a disapproving glance from under his brow, internally wondering how he recovered so quickly — but there’s no reason to panic; this is just the beginning.
Yu wasn’t lying: he really hadn’t read a single fanfic. But from Chi Tian’s jokes and Evan’s persistent attempts to get him interested, he guessed that it was… well, quite entertaining. And Zi Hong’s reaction at the very start only confirmed his suspicions. Maybe the guys had shown him something too? Or had he read them himself? That would be funny — but he’d think about that later.
Grabbing his new beer and settling in comfortably, Yu raises the can in a silent toast, giving Zi Hong a sly look over his glasses, ready to dive into the world of fanfiction and put his brilliant plan into action. Zi Hong just smirks at the corner of his mouth, taking a sip of his own beer and watching — but only for a moment.
“The shoot ended late in the evening, and, as usual, Zi Hong offered to give Yu Teng a ride home.”
Yu’s eyebrows shoot up at the very first line, and with mock indignation, he turns to Zi Hong:
“Hey, why didn’t you give me a ride home after the shoot? I should’ve listened to Evan and Chi Tian and read something. Turns out, there are plenty of useful ideas here—I definitely like this.”
Zi Hong awkwardly shrugs, and Yu shakes his head, moving on. Scanning a few lines, he picks the next passage:
“They arrived at Yu’s home, and Zi Hong stared at him for a long time. An awkward pause hangs in the air…”
Yu pauses, and indeed, the silence settles between them. He reaches for a snack, glancing at Zi Hong. To his annoyance, Zi Hong remains calm, watching patiently as Yu chews. It’s a little irritating, but to be fair—this is just the beginning of the fanfic. Yu leans back, resting against the edge of the bed, takes a sip, and returns to reading.
“Do you want to come in?” Yu offers.
“Just like that?” Yu teases. “I have to admit, the fans have quite the imagination. Yeah… we go inside… and o-oh…”
Yes. There it is!
“We’re kissing here, Zi Hong,” Yu Teng says with a satisfied grin, turning to Zi Hong, who’s still watching him with a bored expression, one eyebrow raised and chin propped on his hand. Zi Hong shows no reaction, but Yu doesn’t despair and giggles. “Oh my God. Chi Tian and Evan actually read stuff like this?”
He reads aloud, mimicking the characters and teasing Zi Hong:
“And then he whispers…” Yu adopts a dramatic voice, “…I like you more than I thought…”
Finally, Zi Hong clears his throat, as if trying to hide a laugh — but Yu instantly notices his cheeks flushing. Yes, yes, yes! He seizes that microsecond, figuratively clenching his fist in triumph: his plan is starting to work. Zi Hong had seemed far too indifferent so far, while Yu had been aiming for something completely different.
Pleased with himself, he scans a few more lines and comes across the next scene… where he and Zi Hong…
Wait— what?
Yu freezes for a moment, blinking several times. His heart starts pounding, and his cheeks feel uncomfortably warm. His eyes pick out words from the sentences that are incredibly, painfully ill-timed, triggering memories from the shoots — mostly the kisses. With Zi Hong. He can vividly recall the taste of Zi Hong’s lips and tongue, the warmth of his breath. Every kiss comes rushing back: in the pool, on the bridge, in the park, on that awkward couch, again in the pool… on the couch, on the couch, on the couch.
Yu tries to keep the same casual expression on his face, but his suddenly sweaty palms are impossible to ignore.
“Why’d you go quiet?” Zi Hong asks unexpectedly. “What’s there?”
Yu lifts his head, trying to look less flustered than he feels — and meets Zi Hong’s gleaming eyes, staring straight at him. Like a predator eyeing its prey.
“Uh… we’ll skip that part,” Yu blurts out, a nervous laugh escaping with it.
“No, go on,” Zi Hong says — and Yu is sure he just saw that predatory smile. He leans his head back slightly, propping his chin on his hand, never breaking eye contact, still smirking as if watching a flustered Yu is entertaining him. “Come on,” he adds, tilting his gaze toward the screen and raising an eyebrow for emphasis.
This fires Yu up, reminding him who’s really in charge. A spark of rivalry helps him take back control of the situation. He's not a thirteen-year-old discovering porn for the first time. Smirking, he takes a long gulp of beer to wet his throat and returns his gaze to the iPad.
“Zi Hong presses Yu against the wall, sliding his tongue into his mouth, and Yu moans right into the kiss,” he reads in a flat, everyday tone, forcing himself to look completely indifferent, as if nothing in the text could affect him. Yet his skin warms where Zi Hong had touched him in that damn couch scene, every contact vivid in his memory — the way he held him by the neck, pulling him close. "They kiss so hot and passionate it’s as if they’ve lived only for this moment. Zi Hong suddenly turns them, guiding Yu backward insistently. They don’t stop kissing until they bump against the bed. Then Yu sits and…"
Yu falls silent again, blinking in confusion. How had it felt? Big, warm hands sliding over his hips and chest, fingers gripping his hair, tracing his neck, caressing his Adam’s apple. He swallows instinctively, remembering the pad of Zi Hong’s thumb pressing against his throat.
“And?” Zi Hong leans closer, peering at the screen. “This is not the ending, right? Come on, keep going — I’m really curious.”
The scent. Yu Teng smells him. Back then it had been mixed with whiskey, with Gao Shide’s pain and bitterness; now — it’s familiar, recognizable. His. After that scene, Yu had several sessions with a psychologist, dissecting what happened, separating his own feelings from Shui’s. Strange thoughts about Zi Hong lingered for a while, but Yu Teng decided it was all Shuyi and buried them deep in his mind, even from himself. Everything had been fine — until this very moment. Saying nothing, Yu continues, resigned, no longer even sure why he’s doing it.
Yu pulls in a deep, shuddering breath, his voice going husky as he reads, “And he pulls Zi Hong to him by the waistband, unbuckling his belt, looking up with a sweet smile” It’s unbearably hot; he’s probably had enough to drink. He knows he should stop, but like someone hypnotized, Yu can’t tear his eyes from the text, seeing only Zi Hong in front of him in that same blue suit, which makes him even more attractive.
Zi Hong watches him and nods encouragingly, urging him to continue. Yu is frozen, feeling the heat of that piercing gaze on his skin.
“He takes dick…” At the last word, Yu’s voice cracks into a high note, betraying him, and he immediately coughs. Zi Hong touches his back, giving a reassuring pat, and Yu flinches so sharply he almost jumps through the ceiling. Only now does he realize how tense he’s been all this time. “And greedily takes him into his mouth, hands and tongue working, giving the man every possible pleasure.”
He could never have imagined his mouth would speak such unholy words aloud. And in that scene, his mouth did more — eagerly taking Zi Hong’s tongue, pressing against his lips, nibbling them, teasing with his tongue as if his life depended on it. Yu’s trembling finger hovers over the screen; his hands no longer obey him.
"What next, Yang Yu Teng?" Zi Hong’s low voice sounds right by his ear, and Yu wants to kill him. How, how, how, damn it, can he remain so calm? It seems that what’s happening in the fanfic only affects poor Yu Teng, who no longer knows where to hide from this scorching embarrassment. It’s even offensive. Has he never once worried about that scene? Not one bit? Did Yu not concern him at all? Yu feels deeply insulted. Why did he even come up with this? He would now gladly slap his past self in the face and dissuade himself from this idea by any means possible.
"Zi Hong grips Yu’s hair with his fingers, fiercely fu… fucking his mouth," Yu Teng can barely breathe, his eyes wide open, "and then forcefully pushes him away from himself, dropping him onto the bed and looming over him."
"Wow," Zi Hong exhales with a kind of absurd reverence.
"You’re so beautiful, Yang Yu Teng," Zi Hong whispers into his ear," Yu is about to die, barely hearing his own voice through the ringing in his ears, "and Yu feels Zi Hong’s hand impatiently unbuttoning his trousers, fingers slipping beneath his underwear and gripping his erection… and beginning to move quickly, bringing indescribable pleasure and tearing sweet moans directly from his throat."
"Is it really written like that there?" Zi Hong’s eyes go round, his hand theatrically covering his mouth, feigning genuine surprise. He’s mocking. Asshole. "Wow."
Damn. Damn. Damn. That’s all I needed. Yu feels his own, now very real, dick beginning to take an active interest in the plot, and he, too, really wants to know what happened next. Yu has a great imagination, and he can quite easily picture Zi Hong’s fingers on his own dick. This makes him blush even more intensely, though it seemed impossible. The tips of his ears tingle. What had he talked about with his therapist? That he wished the scene on the couch hadn’t ended, that Zi Hong… Yu nervously licks his lips, recalling in vivid color and detail what he had wanted Zi Hong to do to him back then. How naive he had been, thinking he could just forget about it for the sake of their professional relationship.
He felt like opening a window, having another beer, preferably a lot more, but Yu hadn’t even noticed that he had finished his beer quite a while ago and had just been holding the empty can in his hand, crushing it. And the window had been open since the start of the live stream. Zi Hong’s smug expression doesn’t inspire him in the slightest. His heart is pounding desperately; from a slight dizziness, his vision is swimming, the lines of text blurring together with all their obscenities. Evan and Chi Tian are perverts if they read stuff like this. Who in their right mind reads porn about themselves or their friends?
It really is time to end this, otherwise something will happen… Yu Teng feels despair. He feels a complete and indisputable defeat, and the most disgusting thing is that he came up with all of it himself. He dragged out completely unnecessary and strange thoughts and images, which he had persistently been getting rid of, and harmed himself. Well done, Yang Yu Teng, do you hate that Zi Hong teases you, or yourself? Only a complete idiot could come up with something like this.
"And then you fucked me," he irritably spits out these words, not understanding who he is angrier at, himself or Zi Hong. He locks the iPad and places it on the table along with the empty can. It falls because his hands are shaking, but he quickly catches it and sets it down more stably. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep, I have to get up early tomorrow."
Zi Hong silently smirks and finishes his beer; a flicker of tense worry passes through his gaze, but Yu is too angry. And also preoccupied with making sure Zi Hong doesn't notice his shameful arousal.
"Okay, let's sleep," his voice sounds outrageously calm, while everything inside Yu is in turmoil. "It's a pity we didn't finish reading, of course; it's a very interesting fanfic."
Yu makes a non-committal grunt, ignoring yet another jab, gets up, and quickly heads to the bathroom, feeling Zi Hong's gaze on his back. As soon as the door closes behind him, he rushes to the sink and turns the cold water tap on full blast. Sticking his trembling fingers under the stream, he waits for the water to turn ice-cold. Only then does he take off his glasses, nearly dropping them, places them on the shelf, and washes his face. Keeping his palms pressed to his face, he peers through his fingers at his reflection. At his shining eyes, cheeks burning with a blush, his slightly parted mouth with bitten lips. He doesn't want to think about what conclusions Zi Hong will draw from how he looked and behaved throughout this whole performance. But just in case, he decided he would blame it all on the alcohol. He will blame everything on the alcohol.
Yu Teng takes a few deep breaths, trying to pull himself together. It's a good thing he wears loose clothing at home, and his erection isn't visible unless you're specifically looking for it. Zi Hong shouldn't have suspected anything, unless he's a pervert who scrutinizes Yu's crotch with rapt attention.
All he needs to do now is calm down, go back, get under the blanket, fall asleep, and erase this episode from his memory forever. If Zi Hong asks anything, he'll say he had a stomach ache. Yes. Exactly. That's what he'll do.
After a few minutes, Yu Teng manages to regain some of his mental composure, and this has a positive effect on the state of his erection. After brushing his teeth, he turns off the tap, dries his hands, and, after one last glance at himself in the mirror, opens the bathroom door, running right into Zi Hong. Startled, he flinches, jumping back, but Zi Hong holds him by the forearms, examining him from head to toe with concern.
"Yang Yu Teng," he is serious, "I was about to knock; you were taking so long. Are you okay?"
All the efforts in the bathroom went to hell as soon as Zi Hong touched him. Damn Zi Hong. Yu nods, removing his hands from himself.
"Yes, everything's fine, I always take a long time getting ready for bed," he is surprised at how calm and natural his voice sounds. He even finds the strength to smile as if nothing is wrong. Zi Hong's eyes narrowed slightly; he frowns, studying him for a few more seconds, but lets go and steps back, making way for Yu.
"Then I'll wash up before bed too."
"Yeah, the new toothbrush is in the drawer."
Zi Hong closes himself in the bathroom, and Yu, intending not to waste another minute, confidently heads to the bed. Lie down, fall asleep, forget.
He notices that while he was trying to reconnect with reality, Zi Hong had turned off the computer and tidied the table: thrown away the empty cans and washed the snack plates. So domestic... The corners of his lips involuntarily lift in a faint smile, but he returns to his original goal: forget, forget, forget. He even shook his head to help the unnecessary thoughts fly away.
Ah. Right. Yu stops dead in his tracks, remembering something very important: Zi Hong isn't going to sleep in the same bed with him in just his underwear, is he? This sudden realization triggers a chain of amusing thoughts on the topic, which Yu Teng is trying very hard to ignore. Pivoting, he heads to the wardrobe. Maybe he should just make up a bed for him on the floor? Why did Yu Teng assume that he and Zi Hong would sleep in the same bed? He glances briefly at his own bed and at the floor beside it. No, the floor is cold. He can't sacrifice Zi Hong's health. Definitely not. And the bed is big; they'll both fit. Everything will be fine. Nodding to his own conclusion, Yu finally opens the wardrobe doors and rummages through the shelves, looking for clothes that might fit Zi Hong.
After creating a bit of a mess in the wardrobe, he finally retrieves an oversized t-shirt and a pair of wide sweatpants. Slamming the doors shut, he heads towards the bathroom, holding the clothes. He listens to the sound of water behind the door, hesitating to knock. He raises his hand twice and lowers it twice. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought flashes that Zi Hong has been in the bathroom for quite a while now. Maybe he's...
"I'll leave a change of clothes for you on the bedside table," Yu finally says, not allowing himself to think for too long. Silence answers him. Was he speaking too quietly again? Clearing his throat, he's about to repeat himself, but at that moment the door opens, and Zi Hong is standing in the doorway. He looks tired and serious, his hair is damp and disheveled, his eyes shining strangely. Yu is at a loss, clutching the fabric tighter in his fingers, and Zi Hong looks down at his hands.
"Are these for me?"
"Ah, yes," Yu Teng snaps out of it and hands the clothes to Zi Hong, "here."
"Thank you," he says quietly, and for a second, Yu thinks he looks guilty, but the bathroom door is already closing, and the strange impression vanishes. Feeling another wave of nervousness, Yu practically leaps into bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. He forgot to turn off the light, but oh well. Zi Hong will probably figure it out himself.
After tossing and turning in bed for a few minutes, Yu finally stills, lying on his side, and closes his eyes. More than anything, he hopes that by the time Zi Hong comes out of the bathroom, he will already be fast asleep in a deep and serene slumber, thus avoiding questions, or conversation, or anything at all. But the bathroom door opens a second later, and Yu's heart skips a beat. He listens intently to Zi Hong's quiet footsteps. He stops. Shifts awkwardly on his feet.
"Yang Yu Teng?" he calls out softly.
"Mh?" Yu tries to make his voice sound sleepy, as if he was already asleep and Zi Hong woke him. The hoarseness from nervousness adds credibility.
"Oh, you're already asleep?" He apparently believes it. "Sorry. Sleep."
It becomes dark behind his eyelids — Zi Hong turned off the light. And Yu hears the footsteps approach the bed, then feels the mattress dip beside him — Zi Hong sits down. Silence. He doesn't move, and Yu feels like he's breathing too loudly. Why is Zi Hong just sitting here so close in silence and doing nothing? Is he going to leave now? Pounce on him? What should he expect? Yu doesn't know which option he would prefer more.
"What did you want?" He's ready to bite off his own impetuous tongue for acting ahead of thoughts. You don't want to know this, Yu Teng. You don't. His heart is pounding in his ears like a mad thing.
"I'm sorry for teasing and provoking you. It was too much. You shouldn't have kept reading all that," Zi Hong's voice carries sincere remorse. Yu smiles involuntarily, touched. He's still a jerk, but he would never truly hurt Yu, and Yu knows this.
"It's fine. Good night," Yu replies, trying not to give himself away, and burrows deeper into the blanket, finally allowing himself to relax a little. Everything is okay.
Zi Hong lets out a noisy sigh through his nose before wishing him good night in return, a smile in his voice. And he climbs under the blanket. Under the very same blanket Yu Teng is lying under. Because there's only one blanket on the bed, and that's obvious. Yu's eyes fly open immediately, straining to see into the darkness. With his back, he feels the warmth of Zi Hong, how he settles onto the pillow, searching for a comfortable position, and this banishes all the beginnings of sleep that had started to cloud his consciousness. He hadn't considered this. At all. Damn it.
He breathes very, very quietly, focusing his entire being on the sounds and movements behind him. There, Zi Hong has finally settled down. There, he sighs through his nose again, yawns lightly, and seems to be preparing to fall asleep. Yu really wants to see what a sleeping Zi Hong looks like, but he's afraid to move. The very thought throws him into confusion. How can he be so calm when inside Yu, an alarm signal goes off every second? Why is Yu Teng even thinking about this? He yawns, hiding a tremulous breath behind the action. He really needs to get some sleep.
For a while, Yu lies with his eyes closed, sincerely trying to fall asleep, but the plot from the fanfiction unfolds before his eyes at a very opportune moment. He unconsciously bites his lips, remembering the kisses with Zi Hong again. The touch of lips on his neck, his fingers on the back of his head, how he authoritatively and demandingly gripped his wrists, subduing Shuyi. Subduing Yu Teng. For a moment, Yu imagines giving Zi Hong a blowjob, causing heat to spread through his lower abdomen. Of course, Yu has never been with a man; he has only ever kissed someone of his own gender with Zi Hong. He also never thought about men in a romantic way, but after that damned scene, Yu Teng wasn't so sure anymore. The warm interactions between them on set and off it only intensified the catastrophic nature of what was happening; he constantly wanted Zi Hong to kiss and hug him. He constantly wanted to touch Zi Hong again and again. It took Yu Teng some time to realize he genuinely needed help. And several sessions with a psychologist calmed his agitated mind, convincing him that it was all Shuyi.
But today, all those memories and strange thoughts have returned. And to his horror, Yu Teng discovers that everything he'd been thinking about over and over again in circles hadn't gone away. He still wants it. He, not Shuyi, wants to repeat it with Zi Hong. Back then, he was in character, in the despair and pain of a betrayed Shuyi. Today, he is just Yang Yu Teng, who doesn't know what to do with his foolish head and stupid heart. Does Zi Hong want the same? Has he ever thought about it? What if Yu Teng just… oh no… what would he even do with all of it then?
Yu pulls the blanket down to his waist and then pulls it back up to his chin again, unsure how he wants to lie. The conclusion he reached in his little brainstorming session troubles him. His imagination obligingly supplies more and more scenarios, and the steady breathing and the feeling of Zi Hong's presence behind his back are no help at all. He feels miserable and... gives up.
"Lin Zi Hong?" he calls out softly, not knowing what he wants more — for him to be asleep or awake. All his attention focuses on the silence behind him.
"Mh?" Just one sound, but that velvety voice sends a tingling to his fingertips.
"Are you asleep?"
"No."
Yu slowly turns to face him. Zi Hong's lips are slightly parted. His eyes seem even larger and seem to shimmer in the dark. It's very beautiful. Zi Hong is beautiful. Yu nervously licks his lips with the tip of his tongue, and his breathing quickens when he sees Zi Hong watching him do it. Probably, if he moved a little closer, he could feel Zi Hong's breath, his scent, his warmth.
They silently look into each other's eyes; it feels like an eternity passes. Yu swallows due to his heightened excitement; Zi Hong watches the movement of his Adam's apple and then looks back into his eyes in a way that makes everything inside him turn upside down.
Three.
Mesmerized, Yu unconsciously moves closer, unable to look away from those large, shining eyes. The pounding of his own heart deafens him.
Two.
Only millimeters separate them; Yu feels Zi Hong's warm breath on his lips. He isn't pulling away, — flashes through his mind.
One.
Yu closes his eyes the moment a cautious touch burns his lips. He doesn't understand if he kissed Zi Hong or if Zi Hong kissed him, but it doesn't matter. All his attention focuses on these timid touches. Every contact triggers a whole explosion of sensations inside him. But it's nothing compared to what Yu feels when his lips are gently parted by Zi Hong's hot tongue. Or did he start it himself after questioningly running his tongue over Zi Hong's upper lip, then gently biting the lower one? With every second, his mind disconnects more from reality. Yu Teng is drowning in a whirlpool of sensations, touches, the warmth and the scent of Zi Hong.
The kiss becomes greedy; Yu feels a mounting anticipation and can't resist anything. Everything is so perfect. Everything is happening by itself. His fingers slide familiarly along Zi Hong's neck, brushing his earlobes, and move to the back of his head. The soft, hot skin under his fingers, the short, coarse hair at the nape of Zi Hong's neck — Yu wants to touch him everywhere, and he strokes, and strokes, and strokes, pulling him closer by the back of his head as much as possible. He eagerly catches the ragged, burning exhales between kisses. Zi Hong's tongue is skillful and incredibly hot; it's driving Yu mad.
Yu had been sure that Zi Hong had demonstrated all his skills in this matter during filming, and how wrong he was, now discovering all these new sensations from the dizzying kisses with Zi Hong. Zi Hong brushes the stray bangs from Yu's forehead and runs his long, elegant fingers through his hair, gripping the strands at the roots. Yu's eyebrows twitch slightly from the pleasant pain. Zi Hong's broad palm moves lower, stroking his cheek, jaw, neck. His thumb glides over the collarbone. They pull apart for a fraction of a second only to exhale hotly against each other's lips and press together again in greedy desire. The wet sounds of their touches resonate right in the pit of his stomach, heat spreading under his skin. Yu feels Zi Hong stroking his back, moving lower, to the small of his back, gripping his thigh, hooking a hand under his knee and throwing his leg over himself, and Yu Teng immediately presses his whole body against him, his palm squeezing his neck and his thumb stroking his Adam's apple. Yu can no longer hear anything but their rapid, heated breathing and the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Deafened, he reaches for Zi Hong, wanting to feel his scent closer and more vividly, to drown in it completely. Zi Hong's hands grip his thighs again, so greedily and maddeningly that Yu stops thinking; his hips involuntarily jerk forward and… feel something hard.
They immediately pull away from each other, breathing heavily and staring with wide eyes, as if they are a pair of lustful teenagers and their parents have just caught them red-handed. The realization crashes down on both of them.
"I…"
"You…"
They start speaking at the same time and laugh nervously. Yu's heart is pounding like crazy, squeezing painfully. What if Zi Hong regrets it? What if he will regret it? What will Yu do then? He just realized something important, and is this how it will all end?
"You speak first," he hurriedly pushes the responsibility onto him, staring intently at Zi Hong's face, chasing away the dark and terrible thoughts. Zi Hong looks extremely cute: disheveled, with frightened deer-like eyes, lips swollen from kissing, flushed with embarrassment. Just say it, quickly.
"Let's talk about it in the morning?.." is all Zi Hong can manage to say; his smile is nervous, but he hesitantly reaches his palm toward Yu's face, lightly touching his cheek with his fingertips, as if making a promise. Yu could swear he can feel him trembling all over, and he forcefully suppresses the urge to press his face into that palm. He himself is close to that state.
It's not a "no". It's not a no.
"Let's talk in the morning," Yu Teng repeats quietly and nods, first slowly, then more energetically.
Yes, they will talk about it in the morning. Without fail. And they simultaneously turn their backs to each other, settling practically on the very edges of the bed, causing the blanket to stretch taut between them and creating an unpleasant emptiness beneath it. Yu Teng no longer feels the warmth of Zi Hong's back against his, and this cold sensation fills him with frustration.
He didn't know how much time he spent lost in his own thoughts before exhaustion and tension took over, gently soothing his fevered mind with drowsiness. Yu was almost asleep when he felt the familiar warmth and an embrace from behind. And a little later — a soft kiss on the back of his head. Perhaps it was already a dream. But when he woke in the middle of the night because it was too hot, he looked in confusion at Zi Hong, who was holding him too tightly, his cheek pressed against the crown of Yu's head; he had even thrown a leg over him, practically immobilizing him. Yu Teng sighed softly, smiled at Zi Hong's sleeping face, and buried his forehead in his neck, falling asleep again. He is sure it was real.
***
Three weeks later.
"Yang Yu Teng?" Zi Hong's sleepy voice sounds displeased; he half-opens his eyes and glares, trying to focus his gaze.
"Mh?" Yu looks up from his phone and glances at Zi Hong, smiling at his sleepy face.
"Will you be much longer?" Zi Hong yawns, hiding his face in the blanket.
"No, almost done. Sleep," Yu ruffles Zi Hong's hair; he nods and closes his eyes. He shifts a little, settling more comfortably on Yu's lap.
"I'll wait for you," he almost whispers, and Yu Teng smiles again, knowing that in less than a minute, he'll hear steady, even snoring.
Stroking Zi Hong's hair with his free hand, Yu carefully scrolls through a website on his phone. Three weeks ago, a portal to a new world opened up for him, and changes also occurred in his personal life.
"Yang Yu Teng is a whore."
Yu's eyes widen indignantly as he reads the fanfiction's description, but he tries not to make noise to avoid waking Zi Hong.
"I'm not like that," he mouths silently, but saves the fanfic to his "mark for later" list for more detailed perusal a bit later.
His "mark for later" list had already accumulated enough fanfics for several evenings ahead. Each time, Yu was amazed by the many different personas fans imagined for them. He had already read about himself as a killer, about Zi Hong as a killer; they had been writers, business owners, and in one plot, Yu Teng even struggled with addiction. And he wasn't the least bit surprised to see fanfics where he was a chef.
The fanfics about Zhou Shuyi and Gao Shide were also mark for later, awaiting their turn; there was a lot of interesting material there too. He was curious to read versions of how their relationship might have developed without Shide's trip to America, or what would have happened if Shuyi hadn't forgiven Shide. There were stories about Shuyi getting married, divorced, and building a family with Shide after realizing what a fool he had been all those years. In one fanfic, Shuyi was completely blind, but his world through sensations turned out to be no less vivid.
Yu Teng sincerely admired the talent of the fans; some stories had gripped him so strongly that he had saved them for himself. All these people could successfully write the script for the third and even fourth seasons of WBL.
But interesting and unconventional plots weren't the only thing that made him secretly read all these things. And reread them. Ideas for spending time with Zi Hong. Of course, he had watched this kind of content in video format too (for reference), but those lacked the plot, backstory, and emotional depth that appealed to Yu Teng's romantic soul (no matter how much he denied it). It's like manga, just without the pictures. The pictures naturally arose in his mind anyway, and were then drawn into reality by Zi Hong's inquisitive kisses on his skin.
He still evasively laughs and politely declines when Evan and Chi Tian offer him something to read, yet a few hours later, at home, he pins Zi Hong beneath him, bringing to life what he had read the day before.
After saving enough fanfics for future leisure, Yu locks his phone and places it on the nightstand, not forgetting to check the morning alarm so he and Zi Hong won't be late for filming. He can't help but break into a smile, looking tenderly at his sleeping boyfriend, who is sprawled on top of him, snoring softly with his mouth slightly open. His face looks calm and serene, with a thin trail of drool running from the corner of his lips. Leaning down, Yu carefully wipes it away, gives Zi Hong a gentle peck on the top of his head, and turns off the light.