When Yan Zimi came out from the shower, Pei Huan was already lying on the bed.

But not on the inside, as he had chosen earlier. Instead, he was leaning against the headboard on the outside, phone plugged in, playing a game.

Seeing Yan Zimi come out, Pei Huan merely lifted his head slightly and said, “Done showering?”

Yan Zimi responded, “Yeah.”

It was nearing midnight, and with nothing else to do after his shower, Yan Zimi found himself standing by the bed.

But even after thinking it over for a long time, he still didn’t know how to get on.

This was the first time in his life Yan Zimi had ever shared a bed with someone—let alone Pei Huan. He had no idea how to lift the blanket, how close he should be, or what to do about the fact that there was only one pillow.

Before long, Pei Huan sensed something was off and raised his head again. “What’s wrong?”

Yan Zimi snapped back to reality. “Hmm?”

Pei Huan asked, “Not coming up?”

Yan Zimi swallowed nervously. “Oh.”

Just then, a familiar voice came from Pei Huan’s phone, growing closer: “Zimi, you finished your shower?”

Yan Zimi moved a bit closer. “Yeah, all done.”

Zhao Di chimed in again, “Good evening, junior.”

Yan Zimi replied politely, “Good evening, senior.”

Pei Huan suddenly raised his head to glance at Yan Zimi, as if something about the exchange caught his attention.

Yan Zimi thought Pei Huan was going to ask again why he wasn’t getting into bed, so he casually said “Oh” to him and went around to the other side of the bed.

Overthinking would just make him seem fussy, so Yan Zimi tried to move quickly.

As Yan Zimi got into bed, Pei Huan muted his microphone.

Yan Zimi lifted the blanket and lay down, realizing there was enough space between them for another person. The pillow sat right in the middle of them.

Without asking, Pei Huan explained on his own, “They insisted on dragging me into a match. It’ll be over soon.”

Yan Zimi said, “It’s fine, go ahead.”

Pei Huan was still playing jungle, and this was Yan Zimi’s first time watching him play in person. It seemed effortless, but his skill use was precise and smooth.

Watching him, Yan Zimi unconsciously moved closer. And closer. Closer still.

“You’re so fragrant,” Pei Huan suddenly said.

Yan Zimi froze for a moment, immediately stepping back a little.

Pei Huan glanced at Yan Zimi but quickly turned his head back.

With one hand controlling the game character, Pei Huan raised the other, lightly pinching the back of Yan Zimi’s neck, and chuckled softly. “You blush from even this?”

Instead of withdrawing his hand, Pei Huan let it trail down from the back of Yan Zimi’s neck, slipping his fingers into Yan Zimi’s hair.

Yan Zimi’s skin prickled with goosebumps as he froze in place, half-kneeling, not daring to move.

“Your hair’s gotten so long,” Pei Huan remarked, running his fingers through the length at the back of Yan Zimi’s head. “So soft.”

Yan Zimi felt a tingling numbness spread through him, his whole body hyper-aware of Pei Huan’s hand, as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

He could feel Pei Huan’s thumb gently brushing against the thin skin just below his ear, while Pei Huan’s fingers moved through his hair as if they were barely there.

The game character continued reciting its lines, but Yan Zimi couldn’t hear a thing. All he could focus on was the soft sound of his hair brushing against his ear.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before Pei Huan’s game character had something to do, so he withdrew his hand.

Only then did Yan Zimi finally let out the breath he had been holding.

Trying to shift the focus, Yan Zimi said, “We’re about to win.”

Pei Huan replied, “Yeah, taking down the dragon should do it.”

Yan Zimi leaned in a little. “Senior, you’re amazing.”

Pei Huan chuckled. “You’re just realizing that today?”

Yan Zimi smiled. “I’ve known for a long time.”

The two didn’t say anything after that. Even though Yu Nan was shouting something to Pei Huan from the other side, Pei Huan didn’t respond, and Yan Zimi soon noticed that Pei Huan had muted his mic.

So, when Zhao Di called out to Yan Zimi near the end, he didn’t answer either.

Not long after the enemy team was wiped out again, Pei Huan’s team easily won, and Pei Huan clicked a few times, returning directly to the homepage.

Pei Huan suddenly voiced his confusion.

Pei Huan: “You’re online?”

Yan Zimi leaned over to take a look. His account was indeed logged in and playing.

Yan Zimi explained, “That’s not me. It’s my friend. He often borrows my account.”

Surprisingly, Pei Huan was curious and even clicked in to spectate.

Lin Jie was playing support, roaming the jungle with his jungler boyfriend.

Pei Huan: “Duo queue?”

Yan Zimi nodded, “Yeah, him and his boyfriend.”

After saying that, Yan Zimi paused for a moment, but realized that was an accurate way to put it.

Pei Huan didn’t seem to doubt it. “They’ve got great synergy.”

Yan Zimi said, “Yeah, he’s played a few hundred games on my account.”

But after speaking, Yan Zimi froze.

He realized he’d said something wrong.

Sure enough, Pei Huan caught on as well.

“A few hundred games?” Pei Huan asked, looking at Yan Zimi. “Haven’t you also only played a few hundred games as support?”

Yan Zimi swallowed nervously.

Pei Huan continued, “And I’ve noticed you’ve played a few hundred games as an assassin too.”

Yan Zimi pressed his lips together, cautiously watching Pei Huan.

At this moment, still half-kneeling, he looked like a child about to admit a mistake.

If Pei Huan had just met Yan Zimi, he wouldn’t have understood that expression. But now, he understood it at a glance.

“Do you usually play jungle?” Pei Huan asked.

Yan Zimi’s expression confirmed it—yes.

Pei Huan replied, “Did you lie to me again?”

Yan Zimi couldn’t bring himself to meet Pei Huan’s gaze and apologized, “I’m sorry.”

Pei Huan asked, “Why did you say you’re a support?”

Yan Zimi’s voice dropped a bit. “I wanted to play with you, but you also play jungle.” He added softly, “I want to play with you.”

Pei Huan said, “I can play another position.”

Yan Zimi quickly replied, “No.”

Pei Huan chuckled helplessly, “No wonder your support skills are so poor.”

Yan Zimi’s mood shifted from sunny to gloomy again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Pei Huan seemed to enjoy touching Yan Zimi’s hair and reached out to ruffle it again. “Have you ever supported anyone else?”

Yan Zimi replied, “No, I’ve only supported you.”

Pei Huan seemed to smile, though it wasn’t very clear.

Suddenly, Yan Zimi became interested. “How about a 1v1 match?”

Pei Huan nodded, “Sure.”

Yan Zimi thought for a moment. “So, is it just for fun? What if I win?”

Pei Huan laughed. “You’re that confident?”

Yan Zimi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Just a small bet.”

Pei Huan replied, “You can make the call.”

“If I win, you have to wear one of my clothes this fall,” Yan Zimi said, pointing at what Pei Huan was currently wearing. “Not this one, but something you can actually wear outside.”

Pei Huan nodded and agreed, then asked, “What if I win?”

Yan Zimi replied, “If you win, you can decide.”

Pei Huan thought for a moment, looking down at the screen. It seemed he came up with a bet based on Yan Zimi’s proposal. “If I win, you have to change your game name to mine for a day.”

Yan Zimi readily agreed, “Sure.”

Just then, Lin Jie finished playing with his boyfriend, and Yan Zimi took his account back.

The match was about to start.

But five minutes later…

Yan Zimi thought, “…”

He seemed to have gained a bit of confidence.

Even though Pei Huan was very skilled, Yan Zimi didn’t think he was that bad; after all, he was the best jungler among his friends.

How did it end up so one-sided with Pei Huan…?

Pei Huan slumped back against his phone, tilting his head to look at Yan Zimi, a victorious smile playing on his lips, yet he said nothing.

Yan Zimi sighed, “Fine, I’ll change it.”

Unfortunately, Pei Huan’s name was already taken—whether it was “Pei Huan,” “Pei Huan1,” or even “Pei Huan11,” 111, or 1111, none were available.

Pei Huan suggested, “Try adding a zero at the end.”

Yan Zimi immediately refused, “No way.”

Pei Huan asked, “Why not?”

Yan Zimi replied firmly, “Just because.”

After a moment of thought, Yan Zimi opened the box again and typed in “fire.”

“That works,” Yan Zimi said, showing it to Pei Huan.

Pei Huan didn’t care about the details; he thought it was good enough and was about to close the game.

However, Yan Zimi pressed down on his hand. “Let’s play another round.”

Pei Huan laughed. “You really want me to wear your clothes that badly?”

Yan Zimi tightened his grip. “Yes, come on!”

Pei Huan chuckled, “Alright, let’s do it.”

But in this second game, it was clear to Yan Zimi that Pei Huan was going easy on him.

For instance, he could see Pei Huan deliberately missing skills, and there were times when he could have secured a kill but let the opponent go instead.

So when the game ended, Yan Zimi shot Pei Huan a cold glance. “What’s going on?”

Pei Huan laughed, cupping Yan Zimi’s chin and turning his head up to meet his gaze. “What’s with that expression? Are you unhappy?”

Yan Zimi showed him just how unhappy he was. “You’re bullying me.”

Pei Huan asked, “You won, and I’m still bullying you?”

Yan Zimi replied, “You are bullying me.”

Pei Huan countered, “But I want to wear your clothes. Is that not allowed?”

Yan Zimi maintained his expressionless demeanor.

Pei Huan continued, “So what should we do? You can’t win against me; it would be the same no matter how many rounds we play.”

Yan Zimi suddenly burst into laughter and lunged at Pei Huan, trying to pinch him. “What did you just say?”

Pei Huan quickly dodged, then pinned Yan Zimi down.

With his gaming skills lacking and now immobilized under Pei Huan’s legs, Yan Zimi felt helpless.

He had no desire to speak.

Pei Huan soon released his grip. “Do you have class tomorrow morning?”

Yan Zimi replied, “I have classes during the third and fourth periods.”

Pei Huan patted Yan Zimi’s unwilling head. “It’s time to sleep.”

Yan Zimi simply said, “Oh.”

Pei Huan didn’t suggest switching places, and Yan Zimi didn’t bring it up either, appearing genuinely indifferent. Pei Huan handed a pillow to Yan Zimi and quickly folded a blanket to lie down himself.

As soon as the lights went out, it felt like bedtime had arrived.

Before long, Yan Zimi sensed that Pei Huan had fallen asleep.

But for Yan Zimi, how could he possibly sleep?

He lay flat for about ten minutes, lost in thought, then turned to face away from Pei Huan for another ten minutes. Finally, he rolled over to face Pei Huan.

Pei Huan, who was asleep, was exceptionally quiet. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, Yan Zimi could clearly see the contours of Pei Huan’s profile.

Lying on his side, Yan Zimi gazed at Pei Huan; being so close, even Pei Huan’s breaths felt precious.

After a while, Yan Zimi extended a finger, tracing a path through the air from Pei Huan’s forehead to his chin without actually touching him.

Next, he traced Pei Huan’s jawline.

Then he moved to Pei Huan’s Adam’s apple.

Further down, he reached the blanket, which covered everything else.

However, Pei Huan’s arm remained outside the covers.

Yan Zimi shifted slightly, leaning a bit closer to Pei Huan.

Pei Huan’s body heat seeped through the air beneath the blanket and warmed Yan Zimi.

Yan Zimi didn’t quite know what he was thinking, but he found himself staring at Pei Huan’s hands for a long time.

Almost as if compelled by some unseen force, he extended his own hand and gently tapped Pei Huan’s index finger.

After poking it, he quickly looked back at Pei Huan.

Pei Huan’s breaths were shallow, and he didn’t move.

Feeling bolder, Yan Zimi reached out a little further and grasped Pei Huan’s finger.

This was the true warmth of Pei Huan.

As he looked at their entwined fingers, Yan Zimi felt a bit dazed.

“Senior,” he called out softly.

Once he said it, he felt it was inappropriate; he had called him “senior” too many times.

So he changed his words to “Brother.”

The voice was even softer than that earlier “senior.”

He lifted his thumb and placed the pad of it on the raised knuckle of Pei Huan’s hand.

“Thank you,” Yan Zimi said.

Perhaps it was the late hour, or perhaps it was the surrounding darkness, but more likely it was because Pei Huan was already asleep that Yan Zimi felt a bit reckless.

He could no longer hear the sound of rain outside; maybe it was winding down, or perhaps it had already stopped.

The temperature after the rain was lower than usual.

But Pei Huan felt so warm.

Yan Zimi buried his cheek into his pillow, his gaze drifting to Pei Huan’s hand.

He traced the prominent knuckles gently, whispering, “Brother, I was really touched today. I’m so happy.”

After saying that, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

But before his smile could reach his eyes, Pei Huan’s fingertips suddenly twitched.

In the next moment, the hand that Yan Zimi was holding flipped over, gripping Yan Zimi’s hand firmly.

“Yan Zimi.”

His heart skipped a beat, and his mind went blank.