He Jun should be used to this by now.

The constant scrutiny and complete lack of privacy, but still he cannot elude the annoyance and trepidation that comes as a result.

Zhihan instantly notices his soured mood. “What is it?” he asks.

He Jun hands him the phone.

He watches as he takes in the photo and messages, and then his eyes darken.

However, that is all the reaction that he shows. He sets the phone down and continues on with his meal as though it all means nothing to him.

“You said you’d be careful,” He Jun says.

“Every part of my face except my eyes was covered,” Zhihan replies. “How much more careful did you want me to be?”

He Jun can say nothing to this so he sighs, and also continues with his meal.

“What have you been up to?” Zhihan lifts his glass up for a sip.

“Just keeping busy,” He Jun replies and tries not to notice the bob of Zhihan's adam’s apple as the drink goes down his throat. That little jut of Zhihan’s is more protruded than most males and boy, does it attract He Jun more than should be sensible. 

“Painting... reading,” his eyes trace up Yibo's gorgeous neck to settle on his lips.

“I’m working on another song.”

It takes He Jun a little while to realize that things have gone particularly quiet, and when he lifts his gaze to find out why, finds Zhihan watching him.

He Jun smiles stiffly and looks away, embarrassed at being so brazenly caught with his attention on Zhihan's lips. 

The silence continues as they continue eating, but He Jun is anything but calm. The tension in the room is so thick that his lungs just flat out refuse to cooperate, leaving his breathing uneven, and his hands, slightly trembling at intervals. Distressed, he grabs his glass of wine and downs the entire glass.

He can feel the heat radiating off Zhihan’s body, or perhaps that is just his body, no longer able to platonically process Zhihan's presence. 

His mind eventually becomes so muddled that he begins to regret inviting Zhihan over because if things continue like this, then there is no doubt that he is going to make a very severe mistake before the evening comes to an end.

“I’m done,“ he sets down the emptied glass and rises to his feet. His bowl however is still partially filled with noodles. 

“Me too,” Zhihan says, but his bowl on the other hand is completely clean. 

This makes He Jun smile. “You really liked it? Do you want another serving?”

“Maybe later,” he says and picks up his glass. He Jun reaches for his empty bowl but Zhihan suddenly smacks his hand.

“Hey!” He Jun protests, wondering what the hit was for. With a stern look, Zhihan gets off the stool and takes his bowl himself to the sink.

“You want to cook for me and do the dishes too?”

“You’re my didi,” He Jun replies. “What‘s wrong with that?”

At the endearment, he pauses, but Zhihan doesn’t seem to have a reaction. 

'Jun ge, Didi loves you,' the words said by Zhihan to him on the set of 'A Depth of Three' replays in his head. 

Not only him, but the entire world had also heard and seen this. They had become so carefree and intimate with each other then, but now it almost seems to have been a figment of his imagination. 

They head to the sink together, and pretty soon fall into the easy routine of Zhihan washing the dishes while He Jun rinses and dries them.

At first, their shoulders are touching and He Jun thinks of pulling away, but he has already acted questionably enough for one night around Zhihan. Any more, and he is certain that it will become glaringly obvious that Zhihan’s very presence is too much for his body to handle. 

So he allows the occasional brushing of their arms and hips, as well as savors the boy’s scent of something sweet and smoky.

“Are you bothered?”

He Jun's heart lurches at the sudden question. “What?”

“The picture.”

He Jun snorts wryly. “What good does that bring?”

"It might cause a barrage of speculations again.”

“Let them speculate,” he says sourly. “That’s all they can do, isn’t it? By tomorrow morning they will have paired you up with at least three women.”

He laughs, quietly, but sees that Zhihan is not amused. He dislikes this side of Zhihan; his sudden withdrawal and broodiness which is such a contrast to his usually outspoken and expressive side.

The boy is like two completely different people in one body, and the variance used to delight He Jun. But now, it just confuses him because he cannot decide on which of these sides of Zhihan he is to relate to right now.

Eventually, he chooses to loosen up a bit, and is certain that talking about the dance show will be the perfect escape for both of them.

“What were you thinking?” he asks. “When you removed your shoe during the captain's battle and mimed with it?”

A smile curves the corners of Zhihan’s lips, and He Jun’s heart warms with triumph.

“Didn’t you see?” Zhihan says. “The shoe slipped off, so it was either I finished the round with only one shoe on, or employ it as a prop.”

"And then you brought the shoe to your nose for a sniff and collapsed on the ground," He Jun laughs. "Did it really smell that bad?”

“Of course not, it was brand new,” Zhihan chuckles now, turning to He Jun. “I was tired, and I really needed to lie down.”

He Jun cannot believe him. “So you just collapsed in the middle of the stage and deceived the whole country that it was part of your performance?”

“I did, didn’t I?” he says and He Jun just shakes his head. This boy is just pure, and unadulterated delight.

“You were happy,” he says. “Truly happy. I could see it.”

Zhihan goes silent again, so He Jun has to look at him. He sees that the expression on Zhihan's face has changed once again.

It is no longer soft, but is now full of concern, and a bit sad?

“What is it?” He Jun asks, pausing and almost taking a step closer to Zhihan. 

He looks pained, and He Jun hates seeing him this way.

“Are you happy? Jun ge.” he asks.

He Jun is taken aback by the question, but he knows that he cannot avoid it without making things awkward for the both of them.

“How can I be?” he responds after the chore is completed. “This year has been a nightmare. You go to sleep one night and wake up the next morning to meet that the entire country is campaigning to boycott you for an offense that you had no hand in.  How can I be happy?”

“But you’re better now right? Things are getting better.”

“They are,” he says. “Everything is getting better. What about you? Are you better? You were quite upset about the motorcycle crash.”

Zhihan sighs and exits the kitchen. He heads over to the couch, talking as he walks. “I was, but it wasn’t really about the crash."

He Jun tenses, concerned that Zhihan will bring up their dispute from that night.

Thankfully, he doesn't.

"It was because for so long I've felt like I've been dragged in a thousand different directions, with very little in my control. But motorcycling and that race... I chose those. I looked forward to them, and I couldn’t even enjoy it. That bastard just had to run into me in the middle of the race."

With a shrug, he settles onto the couch. "It just felt as though everyone and everything was forever going to attack me, no matter what I did. I felt despair... and fear."

He Jun is no stranger to these two very frightening emotions, so dries his hands and heads over to the couch to sit beside Zhihan.

“What’s worst is that I can’t complain,” he says. “All of this... ‘good’ is happening to me right now, and it is what most artists would kill for. Hell, it's the level of success that I've toiled for so many years to attain. Sacrificed nearly everything else for. So I can't complain."

He looks at He Jun. "Right? I got exactly what I wanted.”

He Jun understands him, more than anyone else possibly can. “You can complain,” he says. “You can complain to me.”

Zhihan holds his gaze for the longest time, and then he asks a question that knocks the breath out of He Jun. 

“Ge, do you resent me?”

He Jun is almost too afraid to speak as he considers the question, and when he eventually does his voice is barely audible.

“What do you mean? Why would I?”

“This entire boycott incident. I was involved in it too. But all the fire came on you. And all the suffering.”

He Jun puts all of his heart into his next words, hoping that Zhihan will believe him.

“I don't,” he says. “You had nothing to do with it.”

Their gazes meet, and He Jun doesn't dare blink.

With a nod, Zhihan eventually looks away but He Jun can tell that his response has done absolutely nothing to allay the boy’s concern.

“Han zi,” he calls softly. “We all have different paths. Some are rosier than others, while some are more thorny. It's not up to us to choose which we get, but to simply walk to the best of our abilities.”

It is a long time before Zhihan speaks again.

“Do you regret it then? This path. I chose it from a very long time ago but, you sort of... stumbled into it?”

He Jun thinks long and hard, and then he answers truthfully. “I don’t,” he says. “How can I? Look at all the amazing things that I have gotten to do. Darkness also comes with the light, right? Plus I got to meet you. ‘Cool guy Zhihan! How can I even dare to regret that?”

He'd meant the latter part to be comical, but at the emotions that barrage him, he has to look away. Another bout of silence ensues, and when he turns back around, meets a hauntingly intense look in Zhihan’s eyes.

“Jun ge, I’m sorry,” he mutters, and anger shoots through He Jun. 

“Stop apologizing to me!” He Jun grits his teeth.

However, Zhihan’s expression remains unchanged, so He Jun leans closer and smacks his shoulder.  “Why do you keep apologizing? What have you done wrong?”

“Everything?” Zhihan's voice trembles and He Jun is struck. 

Zhihan's lips part again to speak but He Jun delivers a swift command.

"Stop." 

Zhihan doesn't listen. His lips part once more and He Jun watches Zhihan's eyes mist with tears.

He Jun's heart jumps into his throat as alarm overwhelms him, and before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out and curves around the back of Zhihan’s neck.

Zhihan’s eyes widen in surprise, but it is too late.

He Jun pulls the boy forward, and kisses him.

”...”

There is nothing gentle or light about this as his lips hungrily latch onto Zhihan’s, all the yearning and passion besieging him in the past week, exhilarated to find their liberation in this singular moment.

Zhihan’s taste is erotically potent, rendering He Jun unable to tell if he is getting his relief, or increasing his torment.

His tongue slides into Zhihan’s mouth, and after the inebriating taste, he pulls away. 

For the first few moments after, he cannot speak.

He can barely even breathe.

But then his brain goes ahead to forge quite an impressive sentence, all on its own. 

“There. I’ve done something that requires an apology too. Now we’re even.”