Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 272 - Knock me out

One hour earlier.

Qiu Yue stirred awake with a quiet yawn, stretching his arms lazily above his head until his joints popped. The bed creaked beneath him as he rolled onto his side. Another day in hell. He blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

But something was off.

There was a strange weight in the room—like someone had been staring at him for too long.

He frowned and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. As soon as he slid them onto his face, the blurry figure across from him came into sharp focus.

Shao was sitting on the edge of his bed, unmoving.

Watching him.

His eyes were wide open, glassy, ringed with deep, dark circles. They looked like they hadn’t closed all night.

"...Did you not sleep?" Qiu Yue asked, blinking back confusion.

"I didn’t," Shao replied. His voice was flat. His eyes didn’t move.

Qiu Yue slowly sat up, watching him with a skeptical look.

"I need a favor," Shao said suddenly. "You can’t reject me."

His tone changed—low, insistent. The words had a strange pull, a tug that made Qiu Yue’s head feel a little fuzzy for half a second. He stiffened.

It was subtle, but real.

Qiu Yue narrowed his eyes. "What did you just do?" he asked sharply. "Your words... they felt like they had power in them."

Shao blinked for the first time. "...What are you talking about?"

"That tone—just now—it felt like you were trying to make me obey you." Qiu Yue’s frown deepened. He hated things messing with his brain. "Don’t try that on me again."

Shao’s expression didn’t change.

"I want you to anesthetize me," he said.

Qiu Yue blinked. "...What?"

"I want you to knock me out. Like, out cold," Shao said, still deadpan.

For a moment, Qiu Yue just stared at him.

Then he burst out laughing. "Oh no, not happening," he said, hopping out of bed and walking toward the bathroom. "Not possible at all."

Shao shot up to his feet and chased after him.

"Didn’t you hear me?" he demanded, voice rising. "I said anesthetize me. Knock me out!"

Qiu Yue turned on the tap and began brushing his teeth, completely ignoring him.

Shao stood in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides.

"I’m serious, Qiu Yue. Please—I need you to knock me out."

To that, Qiu Yue spat into the sink and muttered, "And what? Who’s going to carry your unconscious body around if we get attacked by zombies, huh? You think I’m dragging your dead weight through the woods like a sack of potatoes?"

He shot Shao an unimpressed look over his shoulder.

"Why do you even want to be knocked out?"

Shao didn’t answer.

He just stood there.

Still.

Tense.

There was something raw in his face—something unsettled.

Qiu Yue wiped his face with a towel, ruffled his own messy hair with one hand, and gave Shao another sideways glance.

"Forget it," he muttered, walking past him and out of the bathroom. "You’re acting like a lunatic."

Shao followed, bare feet padding behind him like a shadow, wordless and stubborn.

As they approached the kitchen, Qiu Yue noticed something strange.

Shao’s footsteps slowed. His body physically shrank back, like he didn’t want to enter the space.

His eyes were locked ahead, unreadable.

Qiu Yue followed his gaze.

Everyone was there, sitting around the table. Laughter and quiet conversation echoed softly. But Shao wasn’t looking at all of them.

Just one.

Jai.

And Jai, of course, wasn’t looking at him.

Qiu Yue watched the scene click together in real time.

"Ah," he muttered under his breath.

Still, he didn’t comment. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed two portions of food, returning to Shao’s side with both plates.

"Here," he said, shoving one into Shao’s hands. "Stop hovering like a creep."

They sat down at the far end of the table. Shao immediately curled in on himself, staring at his food without touching it.

Qiu Yue squinted at him.

"Okay, seriously," he said, jabbing his spoon toward him, "what is up with you?"

Shao didn’t lift his head. He just sighed and hunched over, as if the table might swallow him whole.

"I just want you to knock me out," he repeated softly, eyes still fixed on his plate.

"God, would you stop saying that?" Qiu Yue snapped. "You repeating it isn’t going to convince me. I’m not going to anesthetize you, you idiot."

He waited for a reaction, but Shao just pressed his lips together and stayed quiet.

Sitting directly across from them, Jai kept glancing up from his plate, eyes constantly drifting toward Shao.

But Shao never looked back.

He stared rigidly at his food, jaw clenched, shoulders hunched like he was trying to shrink into himself. Every now and then, his hand twitched, tugging at Qiu Yue’s sleeve like a nervous tic.

"Come on," Shao whispered under his breath. "Do me a favor? Please?"

Qiu Yue glanced down at the hand on his arm and then looked up at him with a dry smile.

"No," he said flatly.

Shao didn’t argue. He just pressed his lips together and looked away, his fingers curling slowly into a fist.

Jai watched that small movement too. It made his chest tighten, made his skin itch. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He abruptly pushed back his chair, scraping the floor noisily, and muttered, "I’ll go bring Yunfeng and Muchen."

He didn’t wait for a reply. He just left, footsteps quick and stiff.

Only then—only when Jai had left the room—did Shao exhale. The breath left him shaky, as though he’d been holding it the whole time. The tension in his shoulders barely eased, but at least now he could breathe.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. Shao ate robotically, not tasting a single bite, eyes unfocused.

As soon as it was over, before anyone could say anything else, he slipped away from the table, his legs moving on their own. He didn’t know where he was going until he saw Muchen by the kitchen counter, scooping beans and two pieces of toasted bread into a bowl.

Shao didn’t hesitate.

"Muchen!" he called out, his voice too loud, too sudden.

The other man turned around, blinking in surprise. "Shao? Why are you running around?"

"I need to talk to you," Shao said, lowering his voice. "I need your help."

Muchen raised a brow. "Uh... okay?"

His expression shifted when he saw the desperate look in Shao’s eyes. The anxiety practically leaked from him—his hands trembled, his breathing was off, and there was something unsteady in the way he stood, like his legs might give out from under him at any moment.

"...Fine," Muchen said after a pause, setting the bowl down. "Let’s go talk."

They walked back to Shao’s room in silence. Once inside, Shao shut the door behind them and paced in small circles, rubbing his fingers over his lips, gnawing on the edge of his thumb. He looked like a man teetering on the edge.

Muchen watched him carefully. "So what’s going on with you?" he asked. "You look like crap. I mean... more than usual."

Shao stopped pacing.

He turned to Muchen with bloodshot eyes and said, without hesitation, "I need you to punch me and knock me out cold."

Muchen blinked. "What?"

"And if I wake up—do it again. And again. Just keep doing it," Shao said in a rush, pacing again, biting his thumbnail down to the skin.

"Whoa—okay, stop." Muchen stepped forward, grabbing both of his friend’s trembling hands. "What the hell is going on? Is... is this about Jai again?"

Shao didn’t answer.

Instead, he suddenly turned away, walked straight to the wall, and slammed his forehead into it with a loud, dull bang.

"Shao!" Muchen ran up and grabbed his shoulders. "Are you insane?! What are you doing?!"

Shao groaned loudly, dragging his palms down his face, fingers digging into his skin like he wanted to rip it off. "I can’t—Muchen, I can’t become like him. I won’t..."

His voice broke.

"I can’t control myself."

He leaned against the wall, panting hard. "It’s getting worse. Every day. It’s like there’s something under my skin. Pushing. Pressing. I just want to—I want to—" His voice cracked again. "I just want to Fuck him, Muchen. God. God."

He clawed at the wall again, his nails leaving faint scratch marks in the paint.