Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 270 - Regret

Jai practically flew back to the bedroom, his bare feet barely touching the floor as he darted down the hallway, chest pounding with a mix of panic and something... warmer. He slammed the door shut behind him with a soft click, pressing his back to it, breathless. His cheeks burned, and his heart thudded like a frantic drum inside his chest.

"I’m going insane," he whispered to himself.

Then he laughed.

He actually laughed—an uncontrollable giggle that bubbled up from his throat and burst from his mouth. He covered his face with his hands, unable to stop smiling. Every inch of him buzzed like static electricity. He tossed himself into bed beside his still-sleeping grandfather and immediately rolled over onto his side, burying his face in the pillow to muffle the ridiculous sound trying to escape his throat again.

Giggling.

Like a schoolboy.

Because of him.

Shao.

Jai squeezed the pillow tighter, his legs curling up as his toes scrunched the sheets. He couldn’t stop the wave of warmth coursing through him, washing over his face, chest, and stomach. Every time he closed his eyes, Shao’s face would appear—those intense eyes, the way his lips parted right before they kissed, the low rasp of his breath against Jai’s skin.

And then—the kiss.

God, that kiss.

Jai groaned and rolled onto his back, flinging his arm across his face, trying and failing to get rid of the phantom tingling on his lips. It was still there. He could feel it. The pressure, the heat, the taste of Shao’s breath mixing with his. The world had tilted in that moment, and it hadn’t quite settled since.

He laughed again, this time softer. The kind of laugh that came from disbelief.

"How did this happen to me?" he whispered, grinning so hard his face actually hurt. "He actually kissed me. Shao actually... kissed me."

He flipped onto his stomach, kicked his feet once, twice, like a child trying to contain excitement. The butterflies in his stomach were going absolutely feral. His fingers dug into the mattress. He could still feel Shao’s hands—firm, confident, sliding up under his shirt and gripping his waist. His fingertips had brushed sensitive skin, lingering just enough to drive Jai mad.

Jai buried his face in the pillow again, groaning with frustration and joy all at once.

"Why did he touch me there... Why did I like it so much?!"

He smacked the pillow, then hugged it tightly against his chest, pretending for a brief second that it was Shao. His smile turned softer. That wasn’t just desire. That wasn’t just heat. It had been... tender. Careful. Like Shao had been scared of breaking something precious. He’d looked at Jai with such gentleness, even when their breaths were heavy and their bodies close.

That was what made it so unbearable now. That longing. That ache.

He wanted to see him. Right now.

But Shao was sleeping in a different room.

With Qui Yue.

Jai’s smile faltered for a second. He rolled onto his side, hugging the pillow tighter. A little seed of jealousy bloomed quietly in his chest, unwelcome but stubborn.

"I should’ve asked him to stay," he whispered. "I should’ve said something."

But then again... what would he even say?

Come sleep beside me?

No. That would’ve been way too obvious.

Still, the thought of Shao lying next to someone else—even innocently—gnawed at him. Not because he didn’t trust Shao, but because he wanted to be the one near him. The one to whisper into the darkness. The one to feel the warmth of Shao’s breath as he slept.

A lovesick groan escaped Jai’s lips, muffled by the pillow.

This was too much.

Too intense.

He was supposed to be tough. Guarded. Independent.

But now? One kiss and he was a mess. A whole disaster of hormones and emotions and longing. He reached up to brush his fingers over his own lips, heart thudding again as if that small motion brought it all rushing back.

He was absolutely, positively, doomed.

And he didn’t even care.

Jai finally drifted off sometime before dawn, the pillow still clutched tight against his chest, his legs tangled in the blanket like he’d fought sleep in his dreams too. The morning sunlight seeped into the room, thin golden slivers crawling across the floorboards and onto the bed. He stirred with a soft groan, eyes scrunching against the glow.

Then, it hit him.

Shao.

The kiss.

The way Shao had looked at him.

Everything came flooding back in a wild, giddy rush that jolted Jai fully awake.

He sat up too fast and nearly knocked heads with his grandfather, who was still snoring softly beside him. Clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound of laughter threatening to spill out, Jai carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to make a single creak.

He practically skipped to the bathroom.

Once there, he flicked on the faucet and leaned into the mirror. The sight that greeted him made his face burst into flames all over again—hair mussed, cheeks pink, and his lips still faintly swollen.

"God, I look like I’ve been making out all night," he whispered, wide-eyed, pressing his cold fingers to his face. It only made it redder.

He brushed his teeth with the energy of someone preparing for a first date, scrubbing twice as long as usual and even gargling twice—just in case. His eyes flicked to the mirror again and again, checking, adjusting, fixing his hair, adjusting his collar. His heart thumped with anticipation.

"He’s going to be in the kitchen, probably," Jai whispered to himself as he rinsed. "Maybe waiting for coffee. Maybe thinking about last night too..."

Maybe smiling when he sees me.

The thought made Jai beam.

He tiptoed into the kitchen, cheeks still warm, eyes scanning the quiet house.

The smell of dust and old wood lingered in the air, but he didn’t care. His mood was too good. With practiced ease, he pulled out a dented can of beans and a loaf of bread. It wasn’t much, but it was breakfast. He even hummed under his breath while stirring the beans on the tiny camping stove they’d set up last night.

Shao was going to walk in any moment now.

He imagined it—Shao, hair tousled from sleep, eyes soft, coming up behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist. Maybe whispering something in that low, teasing tone. Maybe asking, "What’s for breakfast?" while kissing the back of his neck.

Jai pressed a hand over his chest to try and calm his heartbeat.

"Calm down," he muttered. "You’re not a character in a romance drama."

But it really felt like one.

Footsteps approached.

Jai stiffened, straightening up with a nervous flutter in his stomach.

They came closer.

Yes! It had to be Shao.

He turned around, already smiling—only to freeze.

Shao walked in with Qui Yue at his side. They were talking quietly, too close for Jai’s liking. Shao said something, and Qui Yue chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder in a way that made Jai’s stomach twist.

But what really made the air suck out of his lungs was this—

Shao didn’t even glance at him.

Not once.

He didn’t acknowledge the smell of breakfast.

He didn’t say "good morning."

He didn’t look his way at all.

Jai just stood there, ladle in hand, a dumb smile half-frozen on his face.

He turned back toward the pot, eyes blinking blankly at the bubbling beans.

Don’t overthink it. Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe—

Qui Yue said something else, and Shao laughed under his breath. That sound—one Jai had heard only hours ago when Shao had kissed him—felt like a dagger now.

Jai’s grip on the ladle tightened.

He swallowed hard and kept his back turned, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. His posture. His clothes. The heat rising to his face—but not from happiness anymore. From something bitter, raw.

Disappointment.

Rejection.

Did Shao regret last night?

Jai stirred the pot too hard, splashing a bit of sauce onto the stove. He bit his cheek and blinked rapidly. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t that kind of person.

But it hurt.

He’d built up so much in his head—every smile, every touch, every glance. And now Shao was acting like nothing happened. Like he was nothing.

He couldn’t even enjoy the smell of breakfast anymore.

He plated the beans and bread quietly and called out, voice stiff, "Food’s ready."

Shao didn’t respond right away. It was Qui Yue who turned to look, smiling politely.

"Thanks," he said, walking over to grab two plates.

Two.

One for him. One for Shao.

Jai didn’t even move to take his own. He stood there, eyes unfocused, listening to the scrape of forks and soft conversation behind him.

Shao still hadn’t looked at him.

And that silence?

It spoke louder than anything else.