Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 242 - Liked it

The bathroom door shuddered as Shao’s weight slammed against it, his back pressed to the wood as if he could physically barricade himself from what had just happened. His hands—those hands that had just been on Jai, gripping him, pinning him—now clawed at his own face, fingers digging into his skin hard enough to leave crescent marks.

"What have I done... what have I done..."

The words spilled from his lips in a broken mantra, his voice raw, unrecognizable even to himself. His legs gave out, and he slid down the door in a graceless collapse, his knees hitting the cold tile with a dull thud. He curled forward, forehead pressed to the floor, his entire body trembling with the force of his own ragged breaths.

For a moment, he had lost all control.

The memory seared through him like a brand—Jai beneath him, his wrists trapped, his lips parted in shock. The way his body had arched, responded, even as his voice had cracked with fear. The way his tears had spilled over, glistening in the dim light as he whispered, "I don’t like this."

Shao’s stomach lurched. He gagged, bile rising in his throat, but nothing came up. His chest was too tight, his lungs refusing to expand. He gasped, his fingers tangling in his own hair, yanking, as if the pain could somehow erase the sin of what he’d just done.

"What have I become... what have I done... what have I done to him—"

His vision blurred at the edges, dark spots dancing in front of his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The air was thick, suffocating, pressing down on him like a physical weight. He wheezed, his ribs constricting, his heartbeat a deafening roar in his skull.

He had become the monster he feared.

The realization struck him like a blade to the gut.

With a choked sob, he dragged himself forward on unsteady limbs, his hands slapping against the porcelain sink as he hauled himself up. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror—a stranger. His eyes, once a warm, muted brown, were now a dull, lifeless grey, hollowed out with guilt. His lips were swollen, still tinged with the faint taste of Jai.

Disgusting.

He turned the faucet on with a violently shaking hand, water spraying everywhere as he frantically splashed his face, scrubbing at his skin as if he could wash away the memory of Jai’s body beneath his.

It didn’t work.

The water was cold, but it did nothing to numb the fire of his shame. He gripped the edges of the sink, his knuckles white, his entire body trembling.

"What have I done..."

His knees buckled.

The world tilted.

His last conscious thought was the distant, echoing sound of his own skull cracking against the porcelain sink before everything went black.

*****

Jai remained frozen on the sofa, his arms still stretched above his head as if Shao’s phantom grip still held him captive. His pulse hammered violently, each beat echoing the lingering heat of Shao’s body pressed against his.

Slowly, he lowered his arms, his wrists tingling where Shao’s fingers had dug into his skin. He could still feel the way Shao had pinned him effortlessly, his strength both terrifying and intoxicating.

Jai’s breath hitched as his fingers drifted to his lips, tracing the swollen flesh where Shao had kissed him so desperately.

It had been crushing.

It had been hunger. Raw, unrestrained, as if Shao had been starving for him. The memory sent an unwelcome shiver down Jai’s spine. His face burned as he thought back to what had happened. The way Shao’s teeth had scraped against his bottom lip, the way his tongue had invaded his mouth with a possessiveness that left him dizzy.

Shao was like a beast on heat.

The realization made his stomach twist, a strange mix of fear and something else—something warm and traitorous—coiling low in his gut.

No.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the memory away, but his body refused to obey. His skin still burned where Shao had touched him—his hips, his waist, the way those rough fingers had slipped beneath his shirt, branding him with their heat.

And worst of all—

Jai’s gaze flickered downward, his breath catching at the undeniable hard on still straining through his pants.

It hadn’t gone away!!!!

His face flushed hot with shame. He shouldn’t be reacting like this. Not after what had just happened. Not after the way Shao had forced himself on him, ignoring his pleas, his struggles—

But had he really struggled?

With his powers he could literally bury the man alive if he had wanted to.. but.. he didn’t. He couldn’t.

The thought slithered into his mind, unwelcome and damning.

He was just terrified of how fast things were spiraling out of control. One moment, they had been friends and the next, Shao had been kissing him like he was oxygen, like he would die if he didn’t have him.

It was too much, too fast, and that was why he had cried.

That was why.

Not because he hadn’t wanted it.

The realization made him nauseous.

He curled in on himself, his fingers gripping his knees tightly, nails digging into his skin as if the pain could ground him.

Shao had always been steady, calm... cool.

But the man who had just kissed him hadn’t been the Shao he knew. This Shao had been wild, feral, like something inside him had finally snapped.

And the worst part?

A part of Jai had liked it.

"No..." The word slipped out in a broken whisper, his throat tight.

A sudden thud from the bathroom shattered his spiraling thoughts.

Jai’s head snapped up, his breath catching. The door was still closed, but the sound had been unmistakable—something heavy hitting the floor.

Jai sat up slowly, his limbs heavy, his muscles protesting as if he’d been fighting for hours. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"Shao...?"

He got no answer to his soft calls.

Then—

A soft muffled groan came from inside.

Jai was on his feet before he could think, his body moving on autopilot. He stumbled toward the bathroom, his legs unsteady, his pulse roaring in his ears.

The door was locked.

"Shao!" He pounded on the wood, his voice cracking. "Open the door! Shao—!"

Silence was the answer he got.

Jai’s blood ran cold.

Without thinking, he threw his weight against the door, once, twice—

The lock gave way with a splintering crack.

The sight that greeted him stole the breath from his lungs.

Shao was on the floor, unconscious, his body limp, his forehead split open from where it had struck the sink. Blood trickled down his temple, stark against his pale skin.

"SHAO!"

Jai dropped to his knees beside him, his hands hovering uselessly, unsure where to touch. Shao’s chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, his face ashen.

"No, no, no—" Jai’s voice was a broken whisper as he frantically pressed two fingers to Shao’s neck, searching for a pulse.

It was there—weak, thready, but there.

Jai let out a shuddering breath, his own hands trembling violently as he carefully gathered Shao into his arms, cradling his head to keep pressure on the wound.

"I’ve got you... I’ve got you..."

He didn’t know if he was saying it for Shao—or for himself.