Hot flashes

He changed to a clean towel, soaked it in hot water, wrung it out, and wiped along the inside of Zhou Heng's thighs.

Then they took Zhou Heng out of the bathtub, wrapped him in a towel, patted his back to absorb the water droplets, and then carried him back to the room, placed him on the edge of the bed, and let his back rest against the headboard.

…………

Xiao Jue was wearing a dark gray bathrobe, the belt around his waist was loosely tied, and a small part of the neckline was open.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Zhou Heng lay down on his side, his head resting on his thigh. He held his phone in his hand, his thumb slowly swiping across the screen. After a few minutes, he locked the screen and held it to his chest.

His gaze fell on the off lampshade on the ceiling, paused for a moment, then turned his head to look up at Xiao Jue's jawline.

Xiao Jue's fingers ran through his hair, his fingertips gently brushing against the roots, smoothing out the messy strands.

The hairdryer's warm air flowed from the vent, gently sweeping across his scalp, flipping up strands of his wet hair so that the hot air could reach the roots.

The sound of the wind rang evenly in the quiet room.

Zhou Heng's eyelashes closed, his lips were slightly parted, and his breathing was steady and long.

Over the next two days, Qin Wan often chatted with Zhou Heng, which made Xiao Jue a little jealous.

That morning, as soon as Zhou Heng came downstairs, she pulled him to the dining table and pushed a bowl of wontons in front of him, with a spoon on the rim of the bowl.

She sat opposite him, elbows propped on the table, chin resting on the back of her hand, and asked him if he was cold at night, if the blanket was thick enough, and if the pillow was too soft.

Zhou Heng scooped up a wonton, put it in his mouth, chewed it twice, swallowed it, and said it was pretty good.

Qin Wan then asked him if his schoolwork was demanding and what time he usually went to bed. Zhou Heng answered each question, and Qin Wan nodded before moving on to the next question and then starting a new topic.

After lunch, Qin Wan pulled him to sit on the sofa in the living room, took out an old photo album, and spread it on their laps.

The photo shows Xiao Jue when he was two or three years old. He had a shaved head, was wearing a cotton-padded coat, and was sitting in the snow with a ball of snow in his hand, about to put it in his mouth.

Qin Wan pointed to the photo and laughed, saying that he was still young and didn't know any better. He would put anything in his mouth. Once, he bit a stone in the yard and ran back crying. He had a loose tooth.

Zhou Heng looked down at the round face in the photo, and his lips twitched slightly.

Xiao Jue sat beside him, his legs stretched out under the coffee table, his cup empty.

He turned the cup around twice before placing it on his lap. His gaze swept across the photo album, then fell on his mother's face, then on Zhou Heng's profile. After a moment, he put the cup down on the table with a short, sharp sound.

He stood up, went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, carried it back, and sat down on the armrest of the sofa. He sat there for a while, his shoulder slightly tilting towards Zhou Heng.

After a while, Qin Wan brought out a plate of sliced ​​oranges. Zhou Heng was sitting on the sofa. She went over, placed the plate on the coffee table in front of him, and then went to the kitchen, seemingly fiddling with something.

Xiao Jue stood up from the other end of the sofa, walked to the coffee table, bent down, took a slice of orange from the plate, and took a bite.

He looked up at the living room doorway. There was no one in the hallway. His mother was still in the kitchen, the cabinet doors were open, and she was bending over and rummaging through something.

He turned his head, his gaze landing on Zhou Heng's face. Zhou Heng was looking down at his phone, but out of the corner of his eye, he sensed his approach and lifted his eyelids slightly.

Xiao Jue reached out, his palm pressed against Zhou Heng's cheek, his fingers hooking around his chin, turning his face towards him.

He moved quickly, bending over so that his knees touched the edge of the sofa, and the distance between the two people shrank from an arm's length to just a few inches in less than a second.

Just as his lips were about to touch Zhou Heng's, a voice came from the kitchen, clear as ever, even through the wall: "Xiao Heng—come and try Auntie's new dish—"

Zhou Heng's shoulders jerked back, and his hand instinctively pressed against Xiao Jue's chest, giving him a push.

The force came suddenly. Xiao Jue's center of gravity was tilting in his direction, and he was pushed against the back of the sofa, his back hitting the cushions, bouncing once before regaining his balance.

He lay on his back on the sofa, one hand still in the same position as when he was supporting Zhou Heng's face, suspended in mid-air with his fingers slightly spread.

Zhou Heng had already stood up from the sofa. He quickly took two steps towards the kitchen, and his voice came back from that direction: "Coming, coming."

Xiao Jue lay on the sofa, his hand resting on his lower abdomen, staring at the ceiling.

In the evening, Zhou Heng came out after taking a shower. His hair was not completely dry, and a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

Only the bedside lamp was on in the room, its light focusing on a small area of ​​the sheets, while the rest of the room was dark.

Xiao Jue lay on his side on the bed, the blanket pulled up to his chest, his face buried in the pillow, only revealing a section of the back of his head and a section of his earlobe illuminated by the lamplight.

Zhou Heng sat down on the edge of the bed, a towel draped around his neck, glanced at him sideways, and said nothing.

Xiao Jue's shoulders twitched slightly, turning his face halfway out from under the pillow. His voice, muffled between the fabric and the pillow, came from that half-buried position: "Let's go back tomorrow. I want to go back to my rented room."

Zhou Heng's hand paused at the edge of the towel. "Why do you suddenly want to go back?"

Xiao Jue lifted his face completely off the pillow, turned his head to look at him, his eyes drooping: "You haven't really paid attention to me these past two days."

After he finished speaking, he turned over and lay on his side with his back to Zhou Heng. As he turned over, the blanket slipped off his shoulder, revealing the wrinkled collar of his short-sleeved shirt.