HIM Chapter 40: “Goodnight, boyfriend.”
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At 10:10 p.m., Bo Qin posted a new Weibo update: he shared his single Playing for Fun.
Comments under the post surged rapidly. Bo Qin lay sprawled across He Xizhou’s bed, browsing through them. The quilt beneath him carried He Xizhou’s scent. He was barefoot, swinging his legs lazily. He turned over, burying his face in the fluffy black comforter, his heart pounding furiously.
He thought to himself, Am I dreaming?
Behind him, the bathroom door opened, releasing a wave of steam mixed with the fresh scent of body wash. Bo Qin looked back and saw He Xizhou stepping out, freshly showered and wearing a gray T-shirt. He was toweling his hair dry with both hands.
The steam gave He Xizhou’s face a warm, vivid glow. His damp short hair framed his sharply handsome features—high nose, thin lips, angular jawline. His lips looked especially red. Bo Qin, dazed by this top-tier male beauty, let out a whistle.
He Xizhou gave a helpless shake of his head. He walked over and gently grabbed Bo Qin’s fair, delicate ankle, pulled the quilt up to cover him, then threw the towel over Bo Qin’s head. Squatting down, he rubbed Bo Qin’s head and kissed his eye.
Their gazes locked. After a moment, Bo Qin smiled slightly, turned his head, and kissed him.
The clock ticked silently. Bo Qin let go of He Xizhou’s hand and flipped onto his back, covering his flushed face with a hand, his breath coming slow and uneven as he tried to calm down.
A low, magnetic chuckle came from above. Then Bo Qin felt the mattress sink next to him—He Xizhou had gotten into bed.
Bo Qin dropped his hand and suddenly pounced into He Xizhou’s arms. He Xizhou laughed and caught him, wrapping his arms around him.
“Why did I wait until now to confess?” Bo Qin looped his arms around He Xizhou’s neck and said, “It really feels like a dream.”
Holding Bo Qin’s slender waist, He Xizhou replied, “To be honest, same here.”
Bo Qin laughed again—not that smooth, camera-ready smile, but a simple, pure, and joyful one. He Xizhou was nearly overwhelmed by his cuteness and kissed his cheek.
Not to be outdone, Bo Qin kissed him back, then laughed. Leaning against He Xizhou’s broad chest, he said with a smile, “Ge, we’re acting like elementary schoolers.”
He Xizhou hugged him tighter, kissed his forehead, and said, “Being elementary schoolers with you doesn’t sound bad.”
Bo Qin didn’t respond. He just hugged He Xizhou more tightly. The room was filled only with the quiet ticking of the clock and their steady, shared breathing.
He Xizhou pulled him in closer. Bo Qin was so thin—from strict self-discipline to look good on camera, every inch of his body had been sculpted for aesthetics. He was slim and upright, light enough for He Xizhou to easily fold into his arms. When he held Bo Qin, he could even feel the sharp lines of his shoulder blades. That vulnerability made it hard for him not to hold tighter, like he wanted to melt Bo Qin into his own body.
He Xizhou’s large hand rested on the back of Bo Qin’s neck, gently rubbing. The touch was so relaxing, Bo Qin began to feel sleepy. He Xizhou kissed the top of his head and said, “Your hair’s getting long.”
Bo Qin gave a lazy hum of agreement. His whole body was warm, surrounded by He Xizhou’s scent. He nuzzled into his arms and said, “Longer hair makes styling easier.”
“You look good with short hair too,” He Xizhou replied, rubbing his hair.
With short hair, Bo Qin looked younger, more boyish. With long hair, his vibe was sexy and casual—exuding the composure and ease of an adult.
“I look good no matter what,” Bo Qin said.
“True,” He Xizhou chuckled, hugging him even tighter. “Feeling sleepy?”
Bo Qin made a noise of agreement, but then opened his eyes reluctantly. “I can’t sleep yet. I haven’t reviewed the schedule for Exploration.”
Suddenly, he remembered something that annoyed him—he was flying out of A City in two days to shoot a variety show in the northwest.
He Xizhou gently touched the corner of his reddened eyes with his fingertip. “That show with Jian Ling?”
Bo Qin said yes.
“…I’m leaving A City the day after tomorrow,” Bo Qin said, lowering his eyes and holding He Xizhou’s hand.
He Xizhou interlaced their fingers and asked, “How long will you be gone?”
“A week.” Bo Qin buried his head in He Xizhou’s shoulder and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt with his other hand, his voice barely above a whisper: “I don’t want to leave.”
Of course, He Xizhou didn’t want him to go either. He was flying to Country D the next day for a long-anticipated collaboration project. He’d be gone for more than a week as well.
He Xizhou kissed Bo Qin’s ear and said softly, “Xiao Qin, I’m leaving tomorrow too.”
Bo Qin lifted his head from He Xizhou’s embrace and looked him in the eyes. “Where to?”
He Xizhou couldn’t take the way Bo Qin was looking at him. He pulled away slightly and said, “To Country D.”
Bo Qin followed his lead and gently backed off a bit.
I can’t stay here any longer, Bo Qin thought. This is too sweet—it’s corroding all my ambition.
Yet he still clung to He Xizhou’s neck and asked, “When I confessed earlier, did you really accept it?”
The answer was a kiss.
They cuddled and whispered to each other for over an hour. Bo Qin finally summoned every ounce of self-control to pull himself from He Xizhou’s arms. Standing at the door, he held the man’s slender hand and kissed the back of it, saying, “Goodnight, boyfriend.”
He Xizhou covered Bo Qin’s eyes. A “click” echoed in the room—everything went dark. Then Bo Qin was pinned against the wall, trapped between He Xizhou’s body and the cold surface behind him.
He Xizhou’s warm breath brushed against Bo Qin’s ear. His voice was husky and low: “If you tease me again, you’re not going anywhere—boyfriend.”
Bo Qin’s brain didn’t fully reboot until two hours later. He had just stepped off the treadmill, drenched in sweat. He shook his head as if to toss out thoughts of He Xizhou, but it didn’t help much.
He Xizhou is basically a love spell incarnate, Bo Qin thought.
At 2 a.m., after a cold shower, Bo Qin finally began to calm down. But the moment he got into bed, his thoughts wandered again—Is He Xizhou next door still awake too?
Enough, Bo Qin. He pulled the blanket over his head. You’ve got a variety show to film the day after tomorrow and you’re still not prepared.
He tried to shift his focus back to work. Then he suddenly remembered something and messaged a senior he had known for a long time.
Two minutes later, the senior called him.
“Bo, still up?”
“You’re not asleep either,” Bo Qin laughed. “Almost fifty and still pulling all-nighters like us youngsters.”
“You punk,” the senior laughed heartily. “Is that how you ask for advice?”
The senior’s last name was Wu—a big name in variety shows. In his youth, he had been a rock singer. Bo Qin had collaborated with him on a single before, and they’d maintained a good relationship.
Bo Qin had been in the industry for six years. Apart from group-related variety shows when he debuted, he’d never had a permanent spot on any variety show. That’s because he could never fully relax in front of cameras—variety shows exhausted him. So he avoided them.
The first theme of Exploration was to trace the evolution of the suona, a traditional Chinese wind instrument, from the northwest to the north of China. Bo Qin was genuinely interested in the topic and had done quite a bit of research. But when it came to variety show performance skills, he was totally clueless.
“Xiao Bo, you’ve always misunderstood variety shows,” Senior Wu said. “You think they all have to be funny.”
“Maybe,” Bo Qin replied. “There was a comedic cross-talk performer in the last season—he had great variety appeal and a very quirky personality.”
“That’s him, not you. And he’s a professional comedian.”
Bo Qin fell silent, then said, “I’ve avoided variety shows for years because I feel like my personality is flawed.”
“Bullshit,” the senior said bluntly. “Bo Qin, what are you afraid of? If you’re quiet, be quiet. If you’re not outgoing, then don’t be. Just be yourself.”
His tone softened, filled with the comfort of an elder: “After all my years in this business, I’ve found that what really matters is being genuine. Just be who you are. With your level of fame, do you still need to fight for attention?”
“Filming variety shows is tiring. If the production team’s immature, they can drive you mad. But Jian Ling is solid—very creative, and he built his team from scratch. Your agent’s always had a good eye.”
Bo Qin’s throat was dry. He got up to find a lozenge. “Yeah. You know how many people have tried to poach Sister Chen from me?”
“Oh right,” the senior asked, “How much are they paying you?”
Bo Qin told him.
“Damn,” the senior laughed. “Are you doing charity? That fee is barely enough for poverty relief with your level of fame.”
Bo Qin just smiled without replying.
“But on the bright side, it’s less stressful. Jian Ling focuses on content, not drama.”
Bo Qin said, “Honestly, I’m lucky he even wanted me.”
“Cut the crap,” the senior laughed. “Come on, is this really something worth calling me for? With your status, variety shows are just for fun—don’t put so much pressure on yourself. If you end up enjoying it, I’m planning a new show for next spring. Come help your bro out and make a guest appearance.”
Bo Qin replied with a soft “Mm” and gave a sincere thank you.
“You need to loosen up,” the senior added. “I had drinks with Old Wang the other day—we were talking about you.”
“What’s there to talk about?”
“You’re too tense lately. You think too much and keep everything bottled up.”
Bo Qin stayed silent.
The senior sighed and gave him a nudge: “Bo, go fall in love or something. Get a taste of real life. What’s the point of living like a monk all the time?”
Fall in love.
Bo Qin chewed on the phrase, and realized he might’ve gotten a little tipsy on He Xizhou. He started laughing—so hard he couldn’t stop. The senior on the other end was caught off guard, then caught on.
“What, something going on? What’s your current status?”
Bo Qin looked at his reflection in the glass, smiling wide. “I’m really happy right now.”
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