Chapter Text
The office set was alive with movement, lights shifting, cameras rolling and pausing, crew bustling around but Tian Xuning and Ziyu seemed to exist in their own bubble.
Between takes, they joked and laughed, leaning against desks, whispering under their breath, teasing one another over small mistakes. Lines flubbed, props knocked over, exaggerated expressions — nothing could break the easy rhythm between them. There was no awkwardness, no forced smiles. Just comfort, playful and genuine, that made the long hours feel lighter.
At one point, while practicing a close-up, Ziyu leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Maybe… use your tongue next time,” he whispered, half joking, half daring.
Tian froze for a heartbeat, eyebrows raised, before a slow almost shy smile spread across his face. There was a spark there, pleased and expectant, as if he had been waiting for that permission all along. Ziyu felt heat rush to his cheeks, both shy, fumbling slightly yet completely at ease with one another.
Then came the playful escalation: Tian spun Ziyu around mid-scene, pressing him lightly against the edge of the office table from behind. His hands grazed and lingered, lips brushing, holding him there just a fraction too long. The director’s voice rang out, firm and satisfied.
“Cut! Good. Very good. We’ll keep that one.”
They remained frozen, eyes hazy, breaths uneven.
Ziyu’s face went crimson. He swallowed hard, realizing with a jolt what was pressing insistently against him. “Uh gege… maybe you should move,” he muttered with a shaky laugh. “Feels… weird.”
Tian only smiled quietly, amused, his grip gentle but possessive. He didn’t move right away, as if enjoying Ziyu’s fluster more than he should. For a heartbeat nothing existed except the space between them, their shared laughter and unspoken tension.
The set relaxed but Ziyu didn’t move. He was still half-leaning against the office desk, his lips tingling, his breath shallow. The scene had dragged on for nearly thirty minutes — kiss after kiss, angle after angle. He’d been kissed before on camera, of course but never like this. Nearly half an hour of Tian Xuning’s mouth pressed to his.
He told himself it was just work. A scene. Nothing more.
The trouble had started when Tian’s mouth accidentally brushed against his sensitive ear. Ziyu hadn’t meant to react, hadn’t meant to let that embarrassing sound slip out — a soft, helpless moan that broke through the script. For a heartbeat Tian froze. Their eyes locked. Shock, amusement, something darker flickered in Tian’s gaze — and then he carried on, steady as if the script demanded it.
But it didn’t.
Ziyu had felt it in every second after, the shift, the heat under his skin that had nothing to do with lights.
When the scene finally wrapped, the crew clapped. The director praised Tian,
“How can someone kiss this well?”
Tian only gave that small, quiet laugh of his, looking devastatingly sweet for someone who had just made Ziyu’s pulse skip out of control. Almost shy.
Ziyu tried to laugh, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks burning. But then Tian leaned closer, voice pitched low so no one else could hear.
“I just kissed you,” he murmured, almost teasing. “How did it feel?”
Ziyu’s heart stumbled. He wanted to joke, to throw out something light but the words stuck in his throat. All that came out was a strangled, “I… I don’t know what to say.”
Tian’s smile deepened — not wide, not mocking, but knowing. Like he’d won something.
They wrapped filming, packed up and slipped out together. It wasn’t unusual, everyone knew they shared a hotel room. Budget reasons, the excuse went. Ziyu wondered if the staff still believed it.
The ride back was quiet. Too quiet. In their room, Ziyu dropped his bag on the chair and went straight to the bathroom to splash water on his face, hoping the cold would clear the heat still buzzing through him.
But when he looked up in the mirror, Tian was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him. Not cold, not teasing — just watching.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Ziyu's breath caught. “I’m not.”
“You couldn’t even answer me earlier” Tian stepped closer and suddenly the bathroom felt too small. “So I’ll ask again. I kissed you. How did it feel?”
The mirror betrayed him — his reflection showed ears red, lips parted. He wanted to joke, to laugh it away like they always did but the words got tangled. “…I don’t know,” he whispered.
Tian’s smile was slow, certain."Then maybe —" he leaned in, his breath brushing Ziyu’s ear, "we should find out.”
Ziyu turned just as Tian’s lips found his again, pressing him back against the sink, his hand slid up to Ziyu’s jaw, tilting his head to deepen it. This kiss was different,— no cameras, no lights. Tian kissed like he was testing, tasting, claiming. Ziyu melted into it despite himself, fingers fisting in Tian’s shirt, pulling him closer.
When Tian’s mouth brushed his ear again, the same spark hit and Ziyu broke the kiss with a gasp, a sharp needy sound escaping him. His whole body trembled. Tian froze for a moment, then chuckled softly against his skin.
“Sensitive,” he murmured.
“Shut up,” Ziyu muttered, trying to shove at his chest, but Tian only caught his wrist, pinning it lightly to the counter.
“Don’t hide,” he whispered, his lips brushing his jaw.
The words knocked the air from Ziyu’s lungs. He kissed him back desperately, letting the heat take over until laughter slipped between them again — half shy, half reckless. They broke apart only to stumble out of the bathroom, lips colliding again, bodies pressed close as they fell toward the bed.
Clothes tugged loose, laughter muffled into kisses, everything blurred until the line between acting and reality disappeared entirely.
And the night was only beginning.