Pretend to be crazy - Chapter 53

Blaze didn’t move, still just a fist away from Shen Yan, his expression calm and showing no trace of embarrassment or guilt from being caught doing something inappropriate.

Shen Yan didn’t answer his question directly. He averted his gaze, wiped the liquid off his lips, and suddenly laughed.

Blaze: “Funny?”

“No, I just thought of Falson.” he looked back at Blaze, teasingly. “I thought only he would do something like this.”

“He’s thick-skinned.” Blaze said, “That’s why you’re close to him and even let him eat…”

“Stop.”

Shen Yan quickly interrupted the strange and uncomfortable wording. He reached out and lifted a strand of Blaze’s long hair, twirling it a couple of times before gently tugging it. His voice softened, “Don’t press on me. Talking like this is uncomfortable.”

The two were so close that the faint scent of lemon and mint, heated by body warmth, no longer felt refreshing. Instead, it was tangled and ambiguous, enough to make someone blush.

Blaze stared at him for a few seconds before sitting up, now kneeling loosely.

The previous prone position only made Shen Yan feel his body heat.

Now that he sat up, Shen Yan could more directly feel his physical superiority in every aspect.

Blaze wasn’t embarrassed. That made Shen Yan the one who was.

Shen Yan silently got out of bed, opened the window with a filter, lit a cigarette, and sat down at the small table by the window, expressionless as he exhaled deeply.

Annoyed.

He needed to reassess his relationship with Blaze.

There were always many people around him, and even supposedly “straight” buddies had confessed to him.

Even though things couldn’t go back to how they were after rejection, they were smart. They knew what Shen Yan hated, so they hid their love deeply, stayed as close friends, and never dared to show any slip-ups.

But this world was too dangerous. You never knew if you’d survive tomorrow, and people were mentally extreme.

Especially people like Blaze—obsessive and determined to get what they want at all costs.

Blaze was good. Shen Yan was willing to reciprocate that goodness.

But he genuinely didn’t think he could put Blaze in the “lover” position beyond just friends.

Honestly, he found it funny. After all the times he’d slept with Ruan Zhixian, he still considered himself a hardcore pure-love guy.

He would have only one lover in his entire life.

He believed he should give his love, loyalty, and devotion fully and unreservedly to that one person.

He wanted to be the dominant one in the relationship, the one who decided who deserved that spot.

Before truly falling in love, any overstepping behavior would only trigger his aversion.

Back in that cabin, he gave Blaze the chance to leave the vortex. He didn’t.

If he could still pretend to be a friend, it wouldn’t have been impossible.

But unfortunately…

He went too far. Repeated the same mistake.

Shen Yan was halfway through his cigarette when he saw, through the thin smoke, Blaze on the bed, unzipped and slowly jerking off.

Their eyes met. Blaze, expressionless, sped up.

Insane.

Shen Yan said emotionlessly, “Blaze, if you leave now, I’ll pretend none of this happened.”

“Pretend nothing happened. Pretend.” Blaze sneered, his light-colored eyes filled with aggressive lust, his voice calm:

“Shen Yan, you’re saying you can pretend nothing happened when someone’s on your bed, trying to assault you while you’re drunk, fantasizing about you climaxing as he jerks off like a pervert.”

Shen Yan: “…”

Blaze chuckled and punished himself with rough movements.

Even though his abused d*ck was still hard, it twitched under Shen Yan’s gaze. It even shed tears of joy under his control.

Blaze: “I know your tolerance. You’re not drunk at all.”

Shen Yan stayed silent.

Blaze’s upper and lower body seemed like two separate people. Calmly, he asked Shen Yan, “Aren’t you going to ask why I came?”

Shen Yan flicked his ash, never one for unnecessary analysis, though he knew full well inside. “I didn’t tell you about my plans in District 13, made you search for nearly three months. That’s about what being a friend gets you. Just like Falson and Warren—kept in the dark. Might as well not be friends at all.”

“In the end, you can’t stand me dying—even if it’s fake.” Shen Yan looked at him. “You want to die in my place, take risks for me, bear all the harm I might face.”

“You know I’d never let a friend do that.”

“Yes.” Blaze chuckled. “You know it all… Shen Yan… ha…”

The laughter didn’t last. Sweat beaded on his forehead. No matter what he did, he couldn’t climax. The delay made him frown in frustration.

Unable to finish, he stuffed his still-burning c*ck back into his pants. The fabric quickly darkened with an embarrassing stain. He went to wash his hands and sat down across from Shen Yan.

Shen Yan was about to stub out the last quarter of his cigarette when Blaze stopped him and took it.

Shen Yan had a habit of biting things while thinking. The cigarette butt had visible bite marks.

Blaze didn’t smoke. He mimicked Shen Yan’s manner, took a deep drag, coughed violently, then crushed it out.

Shen Yan: “Not a good habit. Don’t copy it.”

“Not copying.” Blaze looked at him. “Just like things with your scent.”

He turned his head. “Since we’re not friends, whatever I do, it’s not your business.”

Shen Yan thought over the word “not friends” from Blaze’s mouth, then laughed faintly. Like he’d let go of something, his eyes curved, and he asked lightly, “Does that mean I can do things that go beyond friendship?”

Blaze: “Yes.”

“Even use you, hurt you, lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“You might die.”

His words were forceful. He stared directly at Blaze, a faint glimmer in his eyes. “You won’t regret it?”

“No regrets.” Blaze softened. “I’m more than willing.”

The light in Shen Yan’s eyes disappeared. He smiled, got up, and straddled Blaze’s lap.

Blaze looked up. Shen Yan cupped his chin and kissed him quickly.

Cold moonlight streamed through the window like gauze, covering their intertwined figures.

Blaze wrapped his arms around his waist. Shen Yan buried his face in Blaze’s neck, his mint-lemon-scented hair brushing his cheek.

Blaze couldn’t see his expression, but heard Shen Yan’s voice, very soft:

“Leave me some kiss marks.”

“I’m going to use you.”

Warren’s first act upon waking at 8 a.m. was to look for Shen Yan.

He knocked twice. When there was no answer, he carefully turned the handle and pushed the door open, seeing Shen Yan curled under the blanket, sound asleep. He tiptoed closer to steal a kiss—only to find Shen Yan wide-eyed and clearly awake.

He cheerfully said, “Good morning, Shen Yan. I want a kiss.”

Shen Yan stuck out his tongue. Warren saw the number on the tongue ring and froze, fists clenched with rage. “Blaze came last night?”

He lifted the blanket off Shen Yan. On his neck were two vivid red hickeys. The skin between his neck and shoulder had clearly been ravaged—purple bite marks and red kisses covered his fair skin.

Shen Yan looked a bit uncomfortable under the question, touching his sore neck and frowning briefly before composing himself. “Yeah, left before sunrise.”

Warren was too angry to speak.

When Shen Yan came out of the bathroom in new clothes, Warren had finally calmed down, suppressing the urge to tear Blaze apart. He grabbed Shen Yan and slammed him against the wall.

Shen Yan squirmed, uneasy, hands pinned. His lashes cast a fan-like shadow under his eyes. His swollen lips were bruised, clearly kissed too hard.

Warren didn’t know who he used to be, but ever since he lost his memory, he’d often felt chest tightness and rage. Everything around him felt unbearable. In the underground arena, he vented it through violent, deadly fights.

He thought it was because he hadn’t found his wife. But now that he had, his symptoms were worse.

He could restrain his strength usually, but when he couldn’t, it was disaster.

He buried his nose in Shen Yan’s neck. They used the same shampoo, but to him, it smelled different—disgusting.

Horrible.

Annoying voices echoed in his mind—flattened little bun-shaped creatures bouncing around, shouting not-so-joyful things:

“Liar! Liar! Liar!”

“He doesn’t love you! He’s a liar!”

His head ached. His normally fearsome face looked even more terrifying when grim. He slammed his hand against his head, trying to chase the voices away.

But the more he hit, the louder they got, until they filled his whole vision.

So many noisy, tiny voices, all screaming one word: “Liar.”

And yet, he wasn’t even mad. It was like he’d already known deep down that the man in front of him wasn’t as obedient as he pretended to be.

“Warren… it hurts…”

A low, trembling voice broke through the wall of little voices, and they slowly faded.

Warren saw Shen Yan’s pale face and a flicker of fear in his eyes. He immediately snapped out of it.

He let go and took a step back, full of regret and panic. He wanted to explain, but the words wouldn’t come out when he saw Shen Yan trying to smile.

His strength was too much. Usually, he could control it. When he couldn’t, it was a disaster.

Shen Yan’s wrist was nearly crushed, his fingers shaking, unable to grip. He tried curling his fingers slowly, avoiding eye contact, staring at his wrist with a forced smile. “The fortune teller said I’ve got strong bones. Lucky, or else you’d have to carry me across the desert on a motorbike to get me treated.”

Warren couldn’t smile.

Shen Yan shouldn’t have smiled either.

He looked like someone who’d been hurt too many times, skilled at quickly covering pain with jokes.

Warren leaned in to check his injury. As soon as he moved, Shen Yan flinched—just slightly—then forced himself to relax and offered his wrist.

It was red. Would probably bruise soon.

Warren: “…I’ll get some medicine.”

“It’s fine.” Shen Yan stopped him, waving a hand. “Just my wrist. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He said it lightly.

But Warren, always observing, could see the fatigue and endurance behind that easy tone.

His fingers trembled slightly.

Maybe…

Their love story wasn’t as beautiful as Shen Yan had described.