Deep in the Act: Chapter 23

After dinner, Xiao Deng went to Zhang Zhun’s room to chat, lying lazily across the bed, clicking the remote aimlessly. “Bro, that thing… you and Zhen Xin…”

Zhang Zhun was folding laundry that had just come back from the wash, sitting on the sofa nearby. Xiao Deng glanced at him. “Today’s scene, with you and Brother Wu, you were so seductive and so shameless, but it still felt pretty normal. The moment Zhen Xin got on there you… went all weird…”

“Weird how?” Zhang Zhun finally responded to him, coldly, with a kind of indifferent irritation.

Xiao Deng was scared of him. “Anyway… something wasn’t right…”

Just then the doorbell rang. Zhang Zhun was about to answer it, but Xiao Deng jumped off the bed first, running over barefoot. He opened the door to find Wu Rong, sneaking in furtively, looking embarrassed at Zhang Zhun, then at Xiao Deng. “Deng, uh, your bro and I have some business. Go play outside for a bit.”

Xiao Deng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m a grown man. What am I supposed to go play?”

“Quit with the backtalk,” Wu Rong got aggressive when he felt guilty. “Get out now. Don’t come back till I call you!”

Xiao Deng looked at Zhang Zhun. He had his head half lowered, with a kind of reluctant, shy acceptance. “Go out first,” Zhang Zhun said lightly. “Brother Wu and I are running lines.”

At the mention of running lines, Xiao Deng understood. He looked back and forth between the two of them, staring until Wu Rong got creeped out. He kicked him in the butt and booted him out. The door clicked shut from outside. The room was so quiet it was unsettling. Wu Rong rubbed his hands together, his bravado softening. “So… you wash up first, or me?”

Zhang Zhun burst out laughing. “Wash up for what? We’re just running lines. What are you thinking?”

Wu Rong’s face flushed red instantly. “Damn, this kind of thing, it’s my first time!”

They looked at each other in silence for a while. Zhang Zhun started unbuttoning his shirt first, the buttons opening one by one, revealing the vague shape of his body underneath. “How about… we turn off the lights first?”

He walked toward the bed. Wu Rong obeyed him docilely. The lights went out and he started undressing too, the clatter of his belt buckle ringing out. Zhang Zhun turned on the bedside lamp. Wu Rong immediately grabbed a bath towel from the bathroom to wrap around himself, then sat on the edge of the bed with him.

Zhang Zhun was wearing boxer briefs, half reclining in the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp. His long eyelashes were stretched out by the hazy light, fluttering, delicate as a girl. “Where do we start?”

Suddenly, Wu Rong pecked him on the mouth. It was that kind of clumsy, don’t-know-my-own-strength rashness. “Let big bro get used to this first.”

Zhang Zhun pushed him. “I think being more targeted would be more…”

Wu Rong sealed his mouth, hugging him, smacking kisses. “I can’t believe… I’m doing this with you. If word gets out I won’t be able to show my face!”

Zhang Zhun laughed while taking his kisses. “You’re talking like I did something to you!”

Wu Rong pressed him against the headboard, kissing him while sliding down, both of them slipping onto the fluffy down pillows. Wu Rong’s body was excited. Zhang Zhun could feel the muscles in his shoulders and neck all tensed up, thin sweat rubbing between their chests.

“Are you gonna talk or… do it,” Zhang Zhun stumbled through his lines. “I’m wet enough…”

Wu Rong buried his head in the crook of his neck, one hand supporting his waist, the other drawing circles along the edge of his armpit. “They say you and Zhen Xin did this for half a month?”

Hearing that name, Zhang Zhun suddenly went wrong. A fine layer of goosebumps rose on his skin. He became even more sensitive to Wu Rong’s touch. “Shi, shige, stop for a minute!”

Wu Rong didn’t stop, his lower body pressing hard against him. The words “Zhen Xin” wouldn’t leave his head. Zhang Zhun felt that if they kept grinding like this, he was going to get hard. “Wu Rong, get up!”

The man on top of him was still clinging, his whole body tingling and numb. Zhang Zhun breathed softly, then kicked his shige square in the butt. There was a yelp and Wu Rong tumbled off him. The big bath towel came loose from his waist. Accidentally seeing what was underneath, Zhang Zhun cursed fiercely. “Wu Rong, why the hell did you take off your underwear!”

Zhen Xin wanted to go find Zhang Zhun after eating, but he felt too listless to make up his mind. On his way back to his room he passed 3815, the production office where Xiao Wang was usually stationed. The door was wide open and peals of laughter came from inside. He glanced in and saw Xiao Deng.

“Hey, what are you doing here,” he asked offhandedly. “Usually at this time, aren’t you always hanging around at Zhang Zhun’s place?”

Xiao Deng was playing with Xiao Wang’s polarized 3D glasses. Seeing Zhen Xin come in, he somehow felt a little intimidated. “Ah, Bro Zhun has some stuff going on…”

Some stuff going on. Zhen Xin frowned. “What stuff?”

“Nothing really,” Xiao Deng was evasive. “Brother Wu is in his room.”

“Oh…” Zhen Xin nodded, didn’t say anything, turned and walked out. After two steps he turned back. “Wu Rong’s scene today wasn’t very good,” he seemed to be talking to himself. Xiao Deng nodded along. Zhen Xin asked out of nowhere, “Are they running lines?”

Xiao Deng hesitated. “No… I don’t think so.”

No? Zhen Xin narrowed his eyes. “Alright then,” he nodded at Xiao Wang too. “You guys have fun.”

Coming out of 3815, he turned toward the elevator lobby. The elevator was stopped at the basement level. He pressed the down button. Without warning he kicked over the trash can. White sand scattered across the floor. He stared at the mess, expressionless, saying nothing, as if making some kind of resolution. Then he turned and pushed open the door to the stairwell.

3705. It was just a short flight of stairs, a few steps away, yet it felt like he had walked through the whole world. Along the way he made plans. Knock first, then rush in the moment the door opened. If it was what he thought, he’d make that Wu guy pay. He even thought about how Wu Rong practiced martial arts. By the window sofa were Zhang Zhun’s dumbbells and resistance bands. Next to the TV was a pair of pure steel push-up bars.

Fired up on surging adrenaline, he stood in front of Zhang Zhun’s door. His finger was about to knock when his brain was hijacked by unexpectedly secreted endorphins. He damn well remembered what Zhang Zhun looked like today. On the prop bed, their faces pressed together, that hardened nipple pinched between his fingers. Zhang Zhun blushing and dodging, the eyes that looked at him were panicked, the lips tangled with his were trembling. Undeniably, he had feelings for him. Like a girl with a secret crush.

His finger softened. His palm gently landed on the door. He pressed his forehead against it, trying to feel the temperature inside. He was just getting into character, just lost in the moment, he told himself. Did he still have to act like some young punk, playing some dramatic love game? He pulled out his cigarette pack and looked. There were more than ten left. He stood slumped against the wall. That should be enough to wait.

How long does it take to smoke one cigarette, three minutes, five? Anyway, before he finished one, the door clicked and opened from inside. Wu Rong’s voice came out first. “…Listen to your bro. Don’t be stupid.”

Then the man came out, the door closed. Zhen Xin didn’t expect them to be so quick. The cigarette butt was still stupidly pinched in his hand. In a flash, he and Wu Rong collided head-on. He thought he would be the one to strike first, but Wu Rong pointed at him furiously. “What are you doing here?” He shoved him hard. “I’m talking to you. What the hell are you doing here!”

Zhen Xin staggered from the shove, staring at him baffled. Wu Rong didn’t back off. He came up and shoved him again. “Stay the hell away from him from now on!”

Down that long hotel corridor, Zhen Xin kept getting pushed backward, retreating a good eight or nine meters. Finally he fought back. He swung a full-force punch at Wu Rong’s jaw, but it was easily caught. Wu Rong looked at him with utter contempt. “I know your type. Playing around,” he was cocky, with a thuggish swagger and a fierce edge. “If you’re gonna play, pick the right person. Don’t play too big! This,” he thumbed toward 3705, “you touch it, and even if I have to lose everything I own, I’ll destroy you!”

Zhen Xin weighed his words. What lay between the lines wasn’t predation. It sounded more like protection. “You guys ran your lines pretty fast,” he switched topics unexpectedly. “Will you be ready for tomorrow?”

Wu Rong’s eyes flickered. He and Zhang Zhun hadn’t run lines at all. After getting kicked off the bed bare-assed, he had curled up on the sofa feeling wronged, then asked nervously, “Zhun, you and that Zhen guy… are you two… doing that?”

Zhang Zhun didn’t speak. Wu Rong knew his personality. Not speaking meant there was a problem. “Yesterday at the KTV… how could you let him do that to you!” He was genuinely worried for Zhang Zhun, so worried his face scrunched up. “Filming this kind of movie, kissing, showing some skin, faking it for real, guys and girls messing around, that’s nothing. But you two guys… he can afford to play, can you?”

Zhang Zhun still didn’t speak. So Wu Rong pressed on. “It hasn’t gone too far yet, right? Cut it off now.”

After a stretch of silence, Zhang Zhun said softly, “It’s not that serious. I’m not that kind of person. Neither is he. Once filming wraps it’ll be over.”

“You said it,” Wu Rong made him promise. “What’s in your heart nobody can control. Just don’t actually do anything.”

Don’t actually do anything. He knew Zhang Zhun. As long as Zhen Xin didn’t come onto him, nothing would happen. “Damn, what business is it of yours.” He shoved Zhen Xin off and walked off sideways toward the elevator lobby.

Zhen Xin stared at that arrogant back. Suddenly his fingertip burned. Instinctively he let go. It was that unfinished cigarette butt. He had actually been holding it the whole time. Now it lay on the carpet, quietly smoking. The trash bin was across from 3705. He picked up the butt, walked over to throw it away. One turn and there was Zhang Zhun’s door. This must be the path the gods pointed out to him.

He pressed the doorbell. Waited a while. The door opened. Zhang Zhun was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, his temples damp. He must have just washed his face. Zhen Xin wore a dazzling hand-painted T-shirt on top, white sneakers on his feet, his hair curly, standing handsomely outside the door.

Zhang Zhun also thought he was handsome. He didn’t dare look too long, half closing the door, leaving an appropriate gap. “Something you need?”

Zhen Xin liked this indescribable atmosphere when he was with him. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Zhang Zhun looked troubled. “It’s kind of late.”

Zhen Xin pressed him. “He could come in, but I can’t?”

Zhang Zhun knew who he meant. He looked at him with a hint of resentment. “We were just running lines for tomorrow.”

Zhen Xin pressed his palm against the door panel, pushing bit by bit. The force wasn’t much. Zhang Zhun could have stopped him easily. But the door slowly opened wide. That appropriate gap inappropriately widened, letting Zhen Xin enter with dignity and poise. The dumbbells and resistance bands were indeed on the sofa by the window. The push-up bars were next to the TV too. He smiled, laughing at his own childishness. “Were you guys talking about me?”

His tone was like small talk. His gaze was casual too. After the sofa and TV, he swept a glance over the messy bed, finally landing on Zhang Zhun’s face. That face looked very nervous. “No…”

Zhen Xin looked at him, moving toward him as he looked. “I ran into him.”

Zhang Zhun immediately checked his nose bridge, chin, and the web between his thumb and forefinger. Seeing no wounds, he felt relieved inside, but his mouth remained unruffled. “Shige doesn’t speak nicely, but he’s not a bad person.”

Zhen Xin was also looking at him. Looking at the subtly gathered lower edge of his pecs, the beautiful lively abs and the deeply cut V-lines. Following those two lines, his gaze traveled all the way down. “Defending him so much…”

Just then someone pounded on the door, shaking the heavens. Zhang Zhun hurried to look through the peephole. It was actually Wu Rong. His expression turned grave. He pushed Zhen Xin toward the bathroom. “Go hide in there for a bit.”

“Why,” Zhen Xin had already guessed who was outside. “I’m not scared of him.”

Zhang Zhun pressed his lips together, hesitating, showing a kind of panicked look. “He asked me about the KTV thing…”

“What about the KTV,” Zhen Xin let the door pound, not a trace of shame on him. “It was mutual consent. What’s it to him.”

Zhang Zhun didn’t know how he could still be blushing, but his face wouldn’t stop turning crimson. “What mutual cons…”

Zhen Xin grabbed him, kissing him sticky and deep. Lips and tongue scorching hot, his surging breath burning. Outside Wu Rong started kicking the door. Zhang Zhun broke free with reddened eyes. “If he comes in, you go.”

Zhen Xin was reluctant, but seeing Zhang Zhun’s worried look, he said, “Fine.”

The door opened. Wu Rong came in. The moment he entered he saw Zhen Xin. “Damn, I just left and you’re already acting up!”

That push-up bar by the TV, Zhen Xin didn’t use it. Wu Rong grabbed it and swung. Zhang Zhun blocked with his body, shielding Zhen Xin while moving him toward the door. Wu Rong jumped and cursed. “Can’t even keep an eye on you. Believe me, I’ll break your legs!”

Zhen Xin had never suffered this kind of humiliation. One inch forward was heroism, one inch back was cowardice. He clenched his fist. Thinking of Zhang Zhun, he twisted the doorknob and left with his head down. How he got back to his room, how he washed his face, how he got into bed, he had no idea. Until Feng Yunting’s call came in, and he was once again that commanding movie emperor.

“Honey, did you miss me?” The voice on the other end was sweet and cloying. Zhen Xin said “Of course I missed you” with his mouth, but his heart was a mess. His fingers uncontrollably turned on speaker, pressed the home button, then clicked on the photo album, scrolled down, found that photo. Under dim yellow light, Zhang Zhun’s face half asleep and half awake, with milky white fluid on his face.

“I’m telling you, I have a month of vacation…” She was acting spoiled on the other end, but Zhen Xin moved his hand downward, touching himself while breathing rapidly, burning from his throat to his nasal cavity, letting him run wild. Feng Yunting caught on, asking in disbelief, “What are you doing…”

Zhen Xin’s hand didn’t stop. He said shamelessly, “Nothing.”

Feng Yunting thought he was having phone sex. She was shocked and excited, cooing, “You’re so naughty!”