"Huang Xing! Huang Xing!"

"Xing Xing, Jie Jie, are you two..."

Xxxxxxx.......

The way back should have been clear, yet it felt suffocatingly oppressive, even with only a few crazed fans blocking the way, yet still pressing in so hard that they could barely breathe. Qiu Ding Jie leaned in close, using his body to shield Huang Xing beneath him. He shifted his weight, inching forward step by step, and Huang Xing, following his lead, retreated step by step, until they finally managed to edge their way safely back to the elevator.

This could be considered the most terrifying scene of Qiu Ding Jie's life. He had acted in countless productions, from long-running dramas to short projects, taking on both supporting and leading roles; yet this was the first time he had ever been overwhelmed and crushed by obsessive fans.

In the past, he had lost count of how many times he'd dreamed of himself becoming famous, blazing under the flashes of cameras. But in this very moment, he only wanted to smash all of it to pieces.

"It's over now, don't be afraid." Qiu Ding Jie tightened his arm even more firmly around Huang Xing's waist, around the "costar" he treated as his own life, guarding him with everything he had.

Inside the elevator, another pair of costars, Jiang Heng and Li Pei En, were already there; they too had yet to recover from the panic just now. But the one who was the most frightened turned out to be the person who, on the surface, had always seemed the coldest and toughest.

Huang Xing was known as an emotionless AI, someone who never paid attention to the words or actions of those around him, as if nothing ever had anything to do with him. Someone like that—even Jiang Heng and Li Pei En could hardly believe that right now he couldn't get a single word out. All they could see was his shoulders trembling faintly within Qiu Ding Jie's embrace.

No one would ever truly understand what it meant to be a person who had once been isolated, who had once been bullied.

The stage up high was glamorous indeed, but behind the curtain, there were wounds nothing could ever heal.

There might also... be.

...

"Are you still thinking about what happened earlier?"

Seeing Huang Xing standing at the corridor balcony, his gaze unfocused, as if staring off into some faraway place with no destination, Qiu Ding Jie leaned his weight against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers as he slowly exhaled. The thin wisp of smoke was scattered in an instant by the wind.

It had already been several hours since they'd been chased by those crazed fans, and they had been home for more than two hours now. After his shower, Huang Xing still refused to go to bed, instead standing there.

He stood there without doing anything at all, hadn't said a word in a very long time, and his mood was truly terrible.

"I already told you to quit smoking." This was the first thing he had said to Qiu Ding Jie since they got home, and he only said it because he was worried about him.

"Want a drag?"

When in a bad mood, it's normal to have a cigarette. Qiu Ding Jie really was trying to quit; he wasn't like an addict. He just wanted a single drag to let off some steam.

"Hmph." Huang Xing let out a small click of his tongue. He turned, tilted his head and rested it on Qiu Ding Jie's shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of petulance: "You know I can't handle cigarettes."

"An e-cigarette works too." Qiu Ding Jie's lips curled faintly, and the cigarette in his fingers was quickly stubbed out against the railing. He was afraid that if Huang Xing came too close, he wouldn't be able to stand it.

"Who broods deep with an e-cigarette?"

Huang Xing clicked his tongue again, then burrowed his head into the hollow of Qiu Ding Jie's neck, pressing closer. The two of them said nothing, one leaning, the other with an arm draped over his shoulders, silent yet strangely in tune.

Only when the cold wind finally brushed past them did Huang Xing slowly speak, his voice slightly nasal, choked at the edges: "Today... thank you."

Qiu Ding Jie paused for a moment. He knew exactly what Huang Xing was referring to. His hand tightened on the other's shoulder, then loosened a few seconds later, then tightened again, as if he were toying with something impossibly precious.

"Are we that distant?" He squeezed again: "Hm?"

Huang Xing frowned, and in the next second, he turned to stand facing him. The difference in their heights was barely anything—he was only two centimetres shorter—but he still seemed like the childish one, completely overshadowed by Qiu Ding Jie. Unwilling to accept that, he moved in closer, threading his arms around Qiu Ding Jie's waist, bracing his hands on the railing behind him: "No one's like you. Even when you're trying to comfort someone, you still do all these improper things."

"Oh, right..." Qiu Ding Jie nodded and nodded again, a faintly unreadable smile tugging at his lips. Then he pouted playfully: "Look, an immodest person talking..."

But before he could finish, someone swallowed the rest of his words.

Like an arrow loosed from the string, swift and decisive, Huang Xing seized Qiu Ding Jie's lips. Without the slightest warning, he like pried them open, stealing the breath that should have belonged to Qiu Ding Jie alone. The mouth that only knew how to fling out teasing words was suddenly filled with Huang Xing's breath, stuffed full, claimed. Even the lingering bitter tang of tobacco faded, leaving only a sweet confinement in its wake.

Their lips and tongues tangled without warning yet moved in uncanny harmony. Qiu Ding Jie met that fierce onslaught gladly, exploring the inside of Huang Xing's mouth, catching and sucking on his tongue, greedy to devour everything of him. He slid his hand around Huang Xing's back, gripping the slim yet steady waist he had always loved.

Smaller than him, younger than him, more childish than him—yet even the wildness, the aggression, Huang Xing also insisted on taking for himself. He refused to lose, holding Qiu Ding Jie firmly by the nape, forcing him to accept wave after wave of unrestrained ferocity without end, packing his breath all the way down into the bottom of his lungs. Biting then sucking, devouring like a man starved of good food for far too long. Qiu Ding Jie had thought he would have grown used to this by now and could endure it, but why did the kiss only grow more and more intense? On ordinary days, Huang Xing would pause halfway to let him catch his breath; this time it was as if he wanted to kiss him for a lifetime, pushing and pushing without letting go.

Qiu Ding Jie planted both hands on Huang Xing's shoulders, wanting him to pull back a little, but he had misjudged that small frame; Huang Xing might be slight, but his strength was not. He stubbornly pinned Qiu Ding Jie's hands where they were, as if to say that on this playing field, if he hadn't decided to stop, then no one could. Only when Qiu Ding Jie was sure he was about to suffocate did that little villain finally release him.

"You... trying to kill someone... here?" Qiu Ding Jie panted heavily, leaning against the railing, tipping his head back to gulp in air. But that only gave the little fox the perfect angle to bite into the cluster of grapes—Huang Xing immediately lunged forward, pressing a kiss to his Adam's apple and nibbling lightly.

His head was tucked just under Qiu Ding Jie's chin, his voice almost pressed flush against his skin, sounding as if it were carrying some deep grievance: "Only like this can I feel everything is real. Only you make me feel like I exist."

Just like that day, so long ago, so many years now—he had been idly scrolling online, and by chance came across him. His sense of existence had slowly begun to take shape from that very moment.

A person living in the shadows, invisible in a crowd, who, every time he tried to climb upward and show his true self, would be stomped back down—terrified, trembling, with nowhere to lean. At that rebellious age, to be ostracised, to be bullied, without even understanding why—how frantic, how panicked he had been. And just now, being chased by crazed fans had dragged that day back out of memory; once more, he had uselessly curled up in Qiu Ding Jie's arms.

He should have been the one to stand up and protect Qiu Ding Jie. How could anyone be so useless, couldn't even protect the person they loved? But... he hadn't dared. He'd been scared, so scared...

"Thank you." Qiu Ding Jie suddenly said, breaking the perfect silence that had settled after the fever: "For treating me as your reason to exist. And don't... give up on that reason."

"What are you even saying!" Huang Xing clicked his tongue again out of habit. Who could ever abandon the light that saved them?

Once more pressed his lips to Qiu Ding Jie's, ready to turn the world upside down again—only to be unexpectedly blocked.

"If we get too mastered at this, they'll just keep asking questions, you know." Qiu Ding Jie lifted a finger to press between their almost-touching lips.

Only then did Huang Xing remember the live stream from earlier, when someone had asked whether, during the promotional poster shoot, that had really been the first kiss between the two of them, and why it had looked so skilled.

At that moment, Qiu Ding Jie had looked straight at him, eyes full of eager anticipation for the answer Huang Xing would give the fans. Of course that hadn't been the first time he'd kissed Qiu Ding Jie, but how was he supposed to answer? So he could only say it was the first. Then, seeing the teasing, smug look on the other man's face, he had felt even more embarrassed. He wanted to come clean too; he wanted to tell the whole world that this man already belonged to him.

But it would probably be a long time before they were allowed to say it. So he could only comfort himself, it would be soon, soon... the man was already his—sooner or later, people would find out. As for Qiu Ding Jie... what exactly did he want?

"When you were looking at me like that, what did you mean? What did you want me to say?"

"I didn't want anything." Qiu Ding Jie pushed Huang Xing's face to one side, then slipped past him to walk into the room.

Huang Xing immediately chased after him, grabbing his hand so they walked side by side: "I thought you were really looking forward to something. What was it—were you hoping I'd say it wasn't the first time?"

"Would you even dare say it?" Qiu Ding Jie's lips curled, clearly provocation.

"If I did say it, would you dare admit it?" Huang Xing shot back, and in the next second, he shoved Qiu Ding Jie down onto the bed, leaning over him, his hips pinning Qiu Ding Jie's thighs.

He looked at Qiu Ding Jie; Qiu Ding Jie looked back at him. The same smile unconsciously appeared on both their faces. They both understood perfectly well, one dared to say it, the other dared to own it—it was only that the time hadn't come yet.

"Do you want to?" Qiu Ding Jie was the one to break the sweetness first, his hands taking the initiative to slide along Huang Xing's waist: "The fans said today you drained the lemon water and even slammed the glass down, clearly jealous out of your mind. They said there's no way you'll let me off tonight."

"And you actually believe that nonsense." Huang Xing pouted.

"So you weren't jealous?"

Huang Xing clicked his tongue yet again: "And you believe just because I say so?"

"So in the end, do you want me to believe or not?" Qiu Ding Jie asked again, his restless leg beginning to lift, his inner thigh rubbing against Huang Xing's.

Because they were both still in their robes, there was almost no distance left between them, skin pressed to skin, where cold ended and heat began had long since blurred beyond distinction.