The door is slammed shut, and He Jun curses under his breath.

“Fucking brat!” 

He does his best to straighten so that he can access the damage to his house.

White ceramic shards of varying sizes are all over the hardwood floor, and again he cannot believe that Zhihan had thrown that candle holder at him.

So juvenile!

He is still so jarred and annoyed, that he is tempted to call Zhihan back just so he can yell at him. This makes him remember that Zhihan had consumed alcohol, and instantly worry grips him. The cans he'd had at He Jun's house may not have been his first, and given the turbulent day he'd had, there was no doubt that he was distraught and unstable.

How is he going to safely make it back to wherever he came from? He Jun frets.

Hopping on one leg across the apartment, he finds his phone and dials Zhihan's manager.

Shuhui picks up immediately, and He Jun tries to keep as much of his concern out of his tone.

“Is he with you?” he asks.

There is a sigh on the other end of the line. “No, he's not," comes the reply. “Has he left your place? Is he on his way back down?”

He Jun now truly feels alarmed.

It doesn’t even register whether he ends the call or not, but in no time he is limping towards the door. He jerks it open, but only takes a few steps before he finds the person he is looking for.

Collapsed against the wall and on the floor, his frame bent in dejection.

He Jun watches him until he can no longer bear to stand, and decides then that tonight, the muddled matters between them will have to be straightened out.

“Zhihan!” he calls, and just as expected there is no response.

He sighs. “Zhihan,” he calls again.

He knows what he can do to get his attention,  and it makes him feel pathetic because this is always the case with them. He is always the one to push and pull, but this time around he'd been certain that they were truly done. 

He shuts his eyes, and after a heavy sigh, allows his legs to give out.

He also allows a slight wince of pain to sound from his lips and makes no effort whatsoever to break his fall down to the floor.

Zhihan looks up then, and He Jun can sense that he now has his attention. Regardless, Zhihan doesn't move. 

A minute passes.

And then another.

He Jun decides then to fully bring down his walls. "Help me," he says. 

This time around, only a few more seconds pass before Zhihan gives in. He pulls himself off the ground and walks over to him. He Jun doesn’t bother meeting his gaze, but he can feel those hooded brown eyes boring into him. 

Without a word, he senses him turn around, and just when he thinks that Zhihan will leave, he instead crouches down. 

He Jun lifts his head, to see the curved broad back before him.

Zhihan is requesting that he gets on so that he can carry him back to the apartment. 

He Jun thinks back to this very scene… eons ago. It had been a monumental turning point in their relationship, at least in his towards Zhihan. 

He recalls the clench of his thighs around the boy’s hips, and his arms around his shoulders as he had tried his best to hang on but not crush the twenty-one-year-old at the time with his weight. Zhihan's steps however had been stable as he'd strolled across the bridge, the cameras rolling, and He Jun employing every tactic under the moon into calming down his erratically beating heart. 

Zhihan's warmth had engulfed him, and the world around them had fallen away. It was as though afterward, Zhihan knew... that something had struck or perhaps shifted between them because even after the director had yelled 'cut', Zhihan had gripped He Jun's thighs harder, and refused to let go. Then their eyes had met, and He Jun had nearly been unable to look away.

He has been trying to convince his heart since then, to keep looking away.

In the present, he does the same and shakes his head to clear it.

You’re not Wei Ji! his mind groans in warning, and he acknowledges the reminder desolately. The boy before him right now is also not Si Di. This is real life, and they are no longer the characters that they played on their show. 

“I only need your arm!” He Jun says, almost tempted to push Zhihan away.

“Get on,” Zhihan growls in response, and because He Jun is truly out of the strength and will to argue, he uncurls his frame and encircles his arms around Zhihan’s shoulders.

In no time, he is being carried back to the apartment.

Zhihan's movement and actions are sure as he makes his way to He Jun's bedroom, reflective of just how familiar he is with the apartment. He has only ever been here one time or two though, He Jun recalls. 

So how can he remember it all so clearly?

And... just how much straightening out… of their muddled matters will they be able to do tonight?

Soon, they arrive at He Jun's door and come to a stop.

“I can’t believe you threw ceramic at my head,” He Jun says quietly.

Zhihan remains silent, his gaze fixated on the door's polished surface.

“You can’t lose control like that even when you’re angry. You’re not a kid. You could have seriously hurt me!”

"Open the door," Zhihan growls and He Jun complies.