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!! jungkook

[ event masterlist ]

(no pairing situation)

zombie apocalypse

“hi! you need to leave. right now.”

! wc: 11.5k

! tags: half of this isn’t actually the zombie part, tlou!apocalypse, best friends to lovers, cursing, guts/gore/illness (mild)/injury (burn scarring; reader), death, guns + usa setting (am. spelling for “mom” but aus. variants elsewhere), tae speaks spanish (mex. to the best of my knowledge, sorry in advance) for no other reason except i miss my cyberpunk boy jackie welles. tae vaguely third-wheels

the day he lost you, he lost himself. the only difference was that he still walked.

"yn-hyung's eomma!" he shouts. "hello!"

it is a fine day outside. blue skies, fluffy white clouds, green lawns sprinkled with yellow daisies. there are two cars in the driveway of a two-storey house, and jungkook races upstairs, too small to reach the bannister. he holds onto the wooden bars and picks his way up the steps as fast as he can.

the woman is on the balcony. swiftly, she stamps out a cigarette and moves inside. "hello, jungkook! what are you doing here?"

he huffs as he manages to make it to the top, his parents following close behind. "i... i... brought games for hyung! to make him feel better!"

he lifts them up to show her. she smiles and giggles, stroking his hair. "that's very sweet of you, jungkook. he's in his bedroom – he's awake, but just in case, you should be quiet, okay?"

"okay, yn-hyung's eomma! bye!" he races off down the hall.

"your son is a sweetheart," she says affectionately, watching him reach up on his tip-toes to pull the door handle. jungkook's parents laugh and they move into the living space. "it's lovely to see you again. would you like some tea?"

"we'd love some," jungkook's mother says. "sorry for barging in like this. he wouldn't stop pestering us to visit so that he can 'make his friend happy'."

"oh, it's no problem at all. it's good to see our sons together. you know how my boy is." she smiles and shakes her head, pouring three cups of hot tea. "rebellious, that one. i hope yours can teach him some good things."

creeping into his hyung's dark bedroom, jungkook drops onto flat feet and pushes the door closed gently. he squints into the darkness and whispers, "hyung?"

movement; ruffling sheets; a sleepy voice. "jung... jungkook? what's going on?"

"i came to see you." he sets the game cards on your bedside table and clamber onto the bed with a huff, crawling up to you. "are you getting better?"

"i think so." you sigh. you sit up slowly. "i'm dizzy and tingly at the same time."

jungkook's little face falls. "oh." he shoots forward and his expression pinches in fright. "are you gonna die? please don't die! you're my best friend!"

you laugh, a little painfully, and clear your throat. "i'm okay. i'm not gonna die."

"oh. good." jungkook tucks his feet under himself. "can i hug you?"

"yeah. it's just a headache. it's not contagious."

jungkook darts forward and squeezes you tight. he squishes his soft cheek into your chest and snuggles into you, listening to the quick beat of your heart. "geez... you're really cold."

your arms close around his small shoulders. you bury your face into his hair. "sorry."

his huge brown eyes peek up at you and he kicks his legs with a soft sigh. "i don't like it when you're sick."

"sorry," you repeat.

after a while, he says quietly, "i brought you games. to keep you company."

"thanks, jungkook." your arms tighten around him. "i love you."

"i love you, too," he giggles. abruptly, he sits up with bright eyes. "i've got it! i'll marry you, hyung!"

"huh? why?" you ask cluelessly, watching him bounce on your bed. he lifts his fists.

"so we can be together forever! i'll protect you from everything that makes you sick. eomma says that other people made you sick, so i'll protect you from them!they will eat my fists," he says in a deep voice, puffing out his chest to mimic his action heroes.

you can't help but laugh, even though it makes your head ache. "kookie, you can't hurt other people. that's not what a good person does."

"okay," he breathes, agreeing so easily – his chest swells with the sound of your laughter. it makes frogs bounce around inside his tummy. "but i can still marry you, right?"

you roll your eyes. "no, silly. we're not grown-ups yet. we can'tgetmarried."

"yes, we can," he insists, sweet brown eyes growing wide. "i watched my parents do it! we just have to write our names, then boom, we're married! wait here, i'll get the paper."

he scrambles off of the bed, running to your bookshelf and grabbing your drawing pad. he nearly forgets the pencil, but turns back for it abruptly.

he jumps onto the bed and you hastily grab the pencil before he can hurt himself on it. he sets the pad down on your legs, grinning up at you with a smile so bright that you swear it emits sunlight.

"write your name. write it, write it," he says eagerly.

you do, slow and steady. there's a wobble in the middle from the dip between your knees, but otherwise, you're satisfied. jungkook snatches the pencil and you giggle at him.

his tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth and a frown creases his brow. his handwriting is dark and shaky, and his last name is spelt wrong. still, he manages it, and you're so very proud of him – he's still in kindergarten, after all, and you know kids in your class who still use velcro shoes. jungkook, your best friend, knows how to tie his shoelaces every time.

he gestures for you to tear the page out. you oblige, pressing your hand flat against the spine of the pad, and manage to do it with minimal accidents. a few creases shade the torn edge from your grip, but it's otherwise perfect.

jungkook stares at it with big eyes, his lips parted to reveal the two white nubs of his front teeth. he takes it from your hands carefully, as if he's holding the declaration of independence, and smooths it flat on the bed. lightly, he traces a large, wonky heart around both of your names.

he lifts it triumphantly, his eyes shining. "now i can protect you forever, hyung! i won't let anything hurt you, okay? i'll be like a superhero, lasering down everything that gets in our way."

you laugh softly, eyes crinkling, and let him fall back in your arms, squeezing him tight. he's so small, with soft, tiny hands and a tiny button nose. you like to poke it to see him scrunch it up in surprise.

"thanks, kookie," you say quietly, and he hums into your shirt. "i'll protect you, too – my superhero."

"loser says what?"

he startles. "what?"

you laugh, loud and obnoxious, and grab him by the shoulders, peering over to see what he's got in his hands. "gotcha, stupid. what're you reading?" you slip it easily from between his fingers. "what is it? anime?"

he scowls, reaching up for it. "it's manga, and give it back, you jerk! i was just getting to the good bit."

you wave it around, dodging his grabbing hands, and flick through it backwards. "whoa! how does she even walk around with those things?"

several sets of eyes swivel around and jungkook burns under their attention, tripping out of his seat and jumping for the book. you're older than him and therefore taller, and it's not hard to keep it out of his reach. "wow, jungkook... they're huge! i didn't know you had this kind of book."

"stop being such a bully!" he hops awkwardly, stretching for the book with a quiet grunt. "people are looking, butt-wipe!"

"what's this language i'm hearing?"

both of you whip around, gazing up at a familiar face: your homeroom teacher. her brow lifts in expectation as she places her hands on her hips. she's young and pretty, and you know a few boys with weird crushes on her, but she's a lovely teacher and doesn't even mind your whiteboard pranks.

"hi, miss williams," you greet with an innocent smile, and jungkook shuffles behind you, gripping your sleeve. discreetly, you try handing the book back. "what language are you talking about?"

she lifts an open hand, expectant. "give me the book, boys."

jungkook sighs and thumps his head against your shoulder as you sheepishly hand it over. "it wasn't anything bad, miss williams. promise."

"i'll see, yn. which page were you looking at?"

you flip a couple and point. on the page is a girl, around your age, in a uniform. she carries a massive gatling gun in her hands and a barrett .50 cal is strapped to her back, taller than she is. her face is twisted in rage as she extinguishes whole waves of evil vampires.

"don’t you agree, miss williams?" you ask helpfully. "those guns are massive. i don't get how she isn't falling over."

she closes the book and returns it with an exasperated sigh. she pats your head and you scrunch up your nose, fixing your hair. she smiles. "alright, you little rascal. you win this time. just keep it down, okay? other people might be reading, too."

"yes, miss williams."

"and you, jungkook."

after a second, he peeks around your arm, glancing briefly at you before meeting her eyes. his knuckles whiten.

she smiles again, this time gentler, and bows down to be level with him. "don't let him call all of the shots. maybe you should stealhisbook from time to time, too."

"miss!"

jungkook nods mutely, grabbing his book back while you stare at your teacher's retreating back, betrayed and flabbergasted. you notice the emptiness in your hands and turn around. jungkook is already sitting down again, searching for his lost page. you step over the bench and watch over his shoulder. your knee and shoulder touch his.

"so," you say, a lot quieter, "what's happening in the story?"

he brightens and grins at you, flipping back to the front to show you important scenes. "so there's this really shy girl, yumiko, who was adopted after her dad died when she was a baby, and she's actually the last living carrier of a special gene that makes her tougher, faster, and stronger than normal humans! after a bunch of monsters attack the city, she finds the journal he gave her and learns all the ways to kill them, and – oh, and she knows judo and how to box because her family owns a dojo... hey, why are you looking at me like that?"

you shake your head with a sweet grin, knocking your temple against his. "no reason. if we got attacked by a bunch of monsters, would you be my hero in shining armour?"

"of course!" he says, affronted that you'd think otherwise. "i might not have a machine gun, but i'll always protect you. we're best friends, and best friends should always stick together."

"oi, jungkook... jungkook, are you awake?"

he cracks his eyes open blearily at the whisper of his name. "no."

"good, okay. so, i had a thought – like, what if we go to homecoming together?"

"aren't you going with hailey? helen. helena...? whatever her name is."

"hanna. and not officially." you turn over, tucking your hand under your cheek. jungkook gazes back with one sleepy eye, most of his face squished into his pillow. "we haven't asked each other, yet."

he hums tiredly. "mm. then whassername... abigail. audrey. yeah. then audrey will want you to ask her. jay will want you to ask, too. um... erika and kat – from cheer, they said. yoojin from the boys' hockey team. y'know they're going to nationals? go kingfishers."

you wiggle closer, and jungkook bats your cheek to discourage you from getting any nearer. you do it anyway with a cheeky grin, visible even in the darkness, and jungkook hugs his pillow in defeat.

"don't wanna go with them." he gives you a pointed look, and you sigh. "look, i'm sure they're all nice people. i just... don't want to go with them. i want to go with you."

"why? yoojin's kinda cute."

you huff. "he only wants to go with me so he doesn't have to speak english all the time." you narrow your eyes. "wait, he's 'kinda' cute? do you have a crush on him, jungkook? ooh... jungkookie's got a big ol' crush...!"

he snorts, pushing your face away when you start making kissy sounds. "ew, gross. i spoke to himonetime."

"people have developed crushes on less," you point out smugly. "you'vedeveloped crushes on less."

he burns red and he hushes you quickly, slapping his hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. "shut up! you'll wake my dad! i was young, okay? it didn't count."

"he had a nice smile, though. and a cute laugh. plus, he was even shorter than you – i bet that gave you a bit of an ego, didn't it?"

"i'm not short," he hisses, pouting furiously. "you're two years older than me – of course you're taller! go stuff yourself. i'm going back to sleep."

grumpily, he turns over, tugging the blankets up around his chin. you stick your cold feet directly onto his legs and giggle as he jerks and whips around, sitting up so quickly his head spins. you poke his cheek with your index finger repeatedly, still giggling like an idiot at the extent of his reaction. it felt like the entire bed shook.

"i'll bite your fingers off," he threatens, dodging blindly in the darkness. "they're like carrots. i can bite through carrots."

"yeah, you can. with those big-ass front teeth, you'd like carrots, wouldn't you?"

he lunges at you. you grunt at the impact and tackle him to the bed, locking your arms around his middle and tucking your head under his arm – just like gym class. he writhes like a snake – or, more accurately, he flails like a trapped bird, all limbs and indignant squawks.

"you're heavy," he complains, pushing your shoulders down. when that doesn't work, he reaches back for your hands, prying your fingers off of him. "get off, hyung! i need to – ugh – make you regret what you said! i'm not a freaking rabbit!"

you keep him down easily. sports is your jam, and jungkook is built like a twig. a very bony twig, but a twig nonetheless. "you know that you can swear around me, right? it's not like i'm gonna tell anyone. you know what the word 'fuck' is. you're fourteen – every fourteen-year-old knows 'shit', 'fuck', and 'damn', at the very least. the last one's only for bible-study kids, but whatever, it counts."

he hushes you, glancing instinctively at his bedroom door. "he’s gonna hear you. shut up."

"he’s miles away. he’s not gonna hear me." you grin, letting him out. he grumbles, dusting himself off and crawling back under the covers. "actually, you never answered me. do you want to go to homecoming with me, or nah?"

"no. you're just gonna run off to your friends and leave me alone by the punch table like a dumbass."

you nudge him. "hey, look at you. that's the closest you've gotten to swearing. i'm proud of you." you sit back, leaning against his headboard and gazing around his dark bedroom at the shape of familiar furniture. "and i wouldn't do that. you're way more important than those fuckers with rich parents. they only tolerate my presence because i'm irrefutably good on the team and they'd never make it off of school grounds if i left."

"bringing out the big-boy words. you're so dreamy."

"which one? 'fuckers' or 'irrefutably'?"

"the second one. your parents must be so proud. d'you think they'd be mad if i duct-taped your lips shut and then hit you in the mouth?"

you scoff, affronted. "only if you'll hit me in the mouthfirst, then tape it. if i end up with blood in my mouth, i'd rather not swallow it."

"eugh."

"exactly my point."

you lean back, tipping your head backwards until it touches the wall. a scattering of glow-in-the-dark stars seem to swirl and move when you stare at a certain spot for too long. "so... you wouldn't want to go to the homecoming dance with me?"

"i didn't say that," he replies.

"you did. you even said 'no'."

he tuns his face away. "well, i was obviously joking..."

your gaze snaps to his dark silhouette. "so you would? go with me, i mean?"

"duh, hyung. i want to steal all of the expensive chocolate. you promised you'd sneak me in."

you sigh, dragging a hand over your face. "i don't mean it like that, jungkook. i mean it as in... would you go to the dance with me as my date?"

he turns over his shoulder, his face drawn and sleepy. "but we're both boys."

"you didn't seem to have much of an issue about it when you said yoojin wanted to go with me. you've alsoexclusivelyhad crushes on guys, jungkook. it's kinda gay, dude."

he harrumphs, turning back around and shuffling deeper into the covers. "yeah, but i thought you're supposed to go with a girl. to match your tie to her dress, or whatever. like, how would we even do the, uh... the little flowers?"

"corsages? well, we could match them to the colour of our suits," you suggest, "or get the same flowers and match that way."

"complementary colours," jungkook murmurs. "same flowers, same design, just different colours. i think that'd look nice."

you smile to yourself, shifting down until you're snuggled deep in the soft, thick linens. "yeah, i think it would."

comforting silence falls in jungkook's bedroom for a while. his breaths are soft and even, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. he might not even remember this conversation tomorrow morning – you'll have to ask him again.

"hyung?" he whispers, a gentle exhalation of breath. he sounds almost... nervous. nervous, yet curious. "you awake?"

"yeah."

"can you ask me again?"

"ask you what?"

he sighs and flips around to face you, pushing his messy hair back from his forehead. his eyes shine in the darkness, and the edge of his face is rimmed by yellow light from the hallway, seeping in through the bottom of his door. "ask me to the dance. like, properly."

you turn your head. his eyes are trained on you expectantly. "oh. uh, i didn't plan anything fancy..."

he shrugs. "it's okay. i don't mind. just ask me."

you hum, grinning at his insistence. "alright. will you, jeon jungkook, go to the homecoming dance with me as my date?"

he smiles, too. it's smaller than yours, and he's glad that it's dark in the room – his warm cheeks would do nothing to aid him. you already tease him enough as it is. "yes, hyung. i'll go to the dance with you."

he tucks his face into the crook of his elbow, shivering slightly and tightening his grip on his pillow. you notice and shuffle closer. he leans into you, resting his face against your neck, and folds his arms around your waist. you throw an arm over his shoulders and tangle your legs together, squeezing him tightly as you bury your nose into his soft hair.

he smells like his shampoo – berry, because he said the scent made him hungry and it would encourage him to eat more and therefore grow more. you only grinned, patted his head, and told him to keep dreaming. he nearly threw the bottle at you in the store.

bang!

you both jump, bolting upright. it sounded very close – just outside.

"what was that?" jungkook's voice wavers.

"i – i don't know. did an owl hit the window?" you say uncertainly.

"big freaking owl," he whispers. he glances at you. "should we check it out? what if it's hurt?"

you nod, frowning. "you first, then, hero." you reach down for the duffel bag near the dresser and pull out a jacket, throwing it on. after a moment, jungkook follows, waiting for you by the bedroom door. you join him, and he cracks it open.

the hallway outside is lit by a single tall lamp at the end. jungkook steps out, peering into his parents' room. he glances back and shakes his head.

"dad's gone."

"maybe he went to investigate, too," you suggest, but it's weak. you heard no footsteps outside the door, and the floorboards by jungkook's room are notoriously creaky.

his hand searches for yours as you shuffle through the dark house. all of the curtains are closed, and the only light that illuminates the house are the pale lines of grey moonlight curving past the edges of blinds and the nightlights near the bathroom and kitchen. the shadows are tinged an eerie blue.

"what do we do if it's actually an animal?" jungkook murmurs. "do we call someone?"

"i guess... we'll find your dad after this."

you move towards the back of the house, where the noise came from. you push back the curtains.

an empty green backyard. the rotary clothesline spins slowly, creaking on an angle. the neighbour's dog begins to bark madly.

"i swore it came from here," you mutter. you turn. "jungkook?"

he steps out of the laundry room at the end of the hall. "i'm here. dad's not, though." he raises his voice. "dad? dad!"

in the distance, something booms, low and rumbling. you jump and jungkook runs back to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards a window. amongst the lights of the city, a pillar of fire billows into the night.

"oh, god," jungkook whispers. "i hope no one was hurt..."

"i'm sure they're alright," you reply hoarsely, struck by the colour of the flames. against the darkness, the licking flames almost look like warped, tensed hands, scratching and scrabbling for the heavens. "dad – your dad. maybe he went for your mom."

another boom rattles the windows, far closer than the last. you yank jungkook away from the window, hugging his shoulders to your chest, but the shockwave passes, and the glass steadies. slowly, you straighten, watching the fire spread to nearby buildings.

"that one's way too close for comfort," you laugh nervously, your pronounced adam's apple bobbing. "i'm gonna call my mom."

he nods rapidly. the landline sits between the kitchen and the living room, and you dial your home. your fingers drum against the table as the line rings and rings.

the line clatters. "hello?"

your heart drops back into your chest. you grip the phone. "mom! did you hear those explosions? are you okay? they're really close to jungkook's house and his dad's vanished. what's going on?"

"baby, just stay calm, okay? i need you to take care of jungkook. stay away from the windows and don't go outside. there's some sort of sickness going around and everyone's – they're not alright. wait for david and listen to him. he'll get you out of the city and we'll meet up, okay? i love you, baby – protect ju—"

the phone beeps in distress. it's dead.

the dog stops barking.

"mom?" you try, anyway. she doesn't reply. you lower the phone and your eyes flicker back to jungkook – he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing his arms.

"so?" he ventures. "what did she say?"

"i have to stay with you and your dad. we're gonna meet up when we get out of the city – she said that people are getting sick. badly."

police cars' sirens wail past the windows, and the flashing lights veer across the room's walls past the curtains.

jungkook gulps, his knuckles turning white. "sick? what kind of sick? are we sick?"

"no – no, we're not. we're okay." you squeeze his hand reassuringly. "let's go pack our stuff – mom said we have to leave the city and that your dad'll take us."

"o-okay, hyung."

in the backyard, a figure lumbers towards the siding doors behind you. jungkook squints, confused – are they hurt? do they need help?

they slam their fists against the glass with a cracked scream.

you flinch and jungkook stumbles away with a gasp. it's a young man – a familiar one, with shaggy brown hair and a bloody blue shirt.

"daniel?" jungkook stammers. he flinches as fists beat against the glass, bitten-off fingers leaving trails of wet black blood. "h-he needs help...!"

you grab his wrist and pull him away from the doors. "don't! mom said to stay inside. he might be sick!"

he screeches on the other side of the doors. he's not wearing any shoes, and his ankle is crushed and broken, twisted at an unnatural angle. he doesn't seem to care.

"what kind of sickness does that?" jungkook whispers, clutching your shirt. "rabies?"

he throws his shoulder at the glass with his arm raised by his side. his fingers point towards the glass and snap backwards against his knuckles with a sickening crack.

"leave, jungkook, we have to leave!"

"leave to where? dad's still missing!"

"i don't care where. we'll just – hide and close all the doors!"

at that moment, the side door flies open. jungkook's dad stands in the doorway, haggard and fully dressed. he staggers in, slamming the door behind him as daniel screeches – jungkook races up to him.

"dad! are you okay? you're bleeding!"

"it's not mine," he pants, grabbing jungkook by the arm and you by the shoulder. "c'mon – your mom's still in the city. we'll pick her up on the way out."

jungkook's eyes widen in realisation as david scans the porch and the street outside – dark and empty. a woman wails somewhere a few houses over. the car sits in the driveway, and david snatches the keys off of the buffet table beside the front door.

you pull open the door for jungkook and he slips in. you follow, and the engine revs and rumbles as david kicks it into motion. from around the house, daniel limps after the car with an outstretched hand, pale and black-veined. his face is contorted with empty, consuming hunger, snarling like a feral animal. he treads on the bloody stump of his broken ankle, dragging it at a right angle to his leg.

you tumble as the car pulls out of the driveway, crunching onto the loose gravel in the gutters, and fumble with the seatbelt, crossing it over jungkook's chest. his wide eyes and stiff shoulders are a clear precursor to his anxiety attacks.

you lean over, offering your hand. jungkook takes it with both of his and places it in his lap, crushing it tightly. you grip his fingers slowly, then release, over and over. his breathing steadies as he copies the rhythm.

"w-what... what if mom catches it?" he asks shakily. "she's gonna be close to everyone who's sick. will she become... like that? like daniel?"

"no," replies david, and you hear the waver in his voice as he ignores the road signs and takes the road into the city. "she won't. she's a good doctor – she'll know how to keep a patient sedated."

"he didn't have a foot but he was still chasing us, dad! i don't know if sedation will work for that kind of sickness," jungkook says in a small voice. "do you know where it came from?"

the car crests over a hill. david's blood-spattered hands shift around the wheel. "they're saying only people from the city are at risk. we're okay. how are you, yn? you holding up alright?"

"i'm fine." you glance at jungkook. "i managed to call my mom before the line went dead. she says you're going to meet up with her outside of the city. is it better outside? or is it everywhere?"

"i don't know," he sighs, pressing himself back in the seat. his crumpled dress shirt has the red imprint of a smudged hand on the shoulder. "there's no cell service and no signal anymore. before that, the alert said that there's a lockdown on the city. i think the, uh, illness is local, but i can't be certain. i just need to make sure you get to your family safely."

you nod with a swallow, sitting back. watching that man slam himself into the door... it was as if he didn't care for his body, and the way he lurched was as if he was pulled on strings. like a puppet.

the city streets burn with fires the size of buildings. the stench of rot and fear seeps into your pores. cars billow with smoke, wrapped around telephone poles. a flurry of action and reaction – people scream as pale, sickly hands tear at flesh and muscle, open maws snapping and snarling. a man begs for help, and you turn jungkook's face into your shoulder as three mouths gnaw at the stumps of his arms and leg. he screams, high and piercing, as their blunt fingers punch into his stomach, curling and pulling.

bright headlights. your eyes widen. "look out—!"

"jungkook, it's time to wake up."

pale light. the weight of a hand on his shoulder.

his eyes flutter open.

taehyung's lips tick up, a sympathetic shimmer in his eyes. "good morning. sun's out. you, um, talk in your sleep."

jungkook sits up. rolls his neck. it cracks and he winces. "so i've heard. did i annoy you?"

taehyung shakes his head, retreating as jungkook reaches for his jacket, which he'd folded beneath his head for the night. "no. i generally don't get much rest." he takes a seat on the edge of the busted couch, faded grey with age. springs poke up out of the yellow stuffing. he watches jungkook pack up his backpack and check his ammo, sliding the handgun into the back of his jeans.

"who's yn?"

jungkook's eyes flick up sharply.

taehyung folds his hands and nods, diverting his gaze. "sorry."

jungkook finishes packing up in silence. he feels it like the present – your hands on his, the uncertainty of your eyes but your reassuring smile. sometimes he still wakes up and expects to see you next to him, snoring away while his father flips pancakes in the kitchen.

"i think we should hit the mall," taehyung suggests eventually. "there might be something of value there that we can keep."

"and risk getting overrun by infected? fat chance."

taehyung flips his knife idly. "órale. but it's called risk and reward for a reason. if everyone thinks like you, the place could be a treasure trove."

jungkook shrugs on his backpack. he nods. "fine. we need medicine, anyway, and i think i saw a pharmacy in there. if i'm bitten, don't use it on me. i'll head off my own way."

taehyung's brow twitches into a frown. "okay."

ten minutes later, they find themselves in the pharmacy jungkook spotted earlier. it was full of painkillers and antibiotics, bandages and anaesthetics. it was like heaven. the security shutters had been pulled down, but the rusted locks were easy to break – the darkness inside smells stale and dry and there is no sign of the infected or their spores, which is a nice reprieve from the groaning and clicking echoing in the mall outside.

jungkook holds his breath as the twitching shadow of a clicker passes dangerously close to the entrance. the characteristic spine-tingling vocalisations freeze taehyung in place, daring not even to shift the bottle of pills halfway to his backpack.

the shadow pauses right by the shutters. it screeches. jungkook can imagine the soundwaves rippling off of the environment, bouncing back to the awful bony protrusions bursting out of the front of their skulls.

it shuffles away, clicking with each step. a bottle smashes.

a runner screams, alert, the sound shocking through the mall. the sound of a hundred infected stumbling towards the source stampedes past the pharmacy, and jungkook's eyes widen as the agile shadows flit by under the security door.

at the other end of the mall, where they entered, a man yells out – in pain or fear, jungkook doesn't know. multiple gunshots fire at once, and different voices call out in a blind panic: who made the noise? where are they coming from? they're surrounded!

then, all at once, the shouting stops. no bullets fly.

taehyung creeps towards the security door. he lowers himself to his stomach, peeking beneath the sheets of steel.

he lifts his head, meeting jungkook's gaze. he shakes his head.

jungkook releases a silent breath. fuck. they'll have to find another way out.

on the bright side, most of the infected should now be concentrated around the main entrance. the only problem? according to the deteriorating map, the mall only has two exits: one blocked by the swarm of infected, and the other below ground in the parking lot. said parking lot was flooded, and the nearest entry into it was through a massive, gaping hole in the middle of the tiled floor, where years of rainfall through the broken glass ceiling had worn away the ground into a sinkhole.

after triple-checking the store and soundproofing their bags, they slip under the shutters one at a time, taking it in turns to lift the shutters just enough to get their shoulders through. a clicker lurches out of a fashion boutique – or what was once a fashion boutique. the mannequins in the window are still dressed in stylish dresses, and the poster of a thin blonde curls off of the wall.

before the clicker can force a searching screech through its ruined vocal chords, taehyung slams his knife into the centre of its blooming fungal growth, twisting the blade until its bony fingers stop pulling at his clothes.

runners bleed. clickers do not. jungkook used to fear runners the most, hearing them sob and whimper with intact voices. he used to wonder who was crying – the fungus, or a human?

he does not wonder such things anymore.

taehyung descends into the hole in the floor, his gun in hand. his torch swivels over the dark interior, and the water is clear and has no bad scent, meaning that it could be coming from somewhere else – like an exit.

taehyung beckons jungkook down. jungkook clicks on the torch slipped into the strap of his backpack and drops over the ledge, his fingers slipping on the wet tiles. he wipes his palms on his jeans, reaching for his handgun.

his eyes flicker over the looming shadows. the reflection of their torchlight in the water keeps prying at his attention, too much like the flash of bioluminescence to ignore.

tentatively, jungkook steps into the water from the collapsed section of the mall, his gun aloft. he takes another step, and another, until the ground flattens out. the water laps around his calves, and the slushing of every movement is far too loud.

something skitters.

both flashlights whirl in its direction. near a submerged car, visible only from the top of the rusted hood upwards, the water ripples.

the parking lot must spiral down into several floors, given the height of the water on the car. there might be a way out deeper down – maybe the water comes from the nearby river.

they can't investigate. not when they're not alone.

jungkook turns over his shoulder and jerks his head towards the shadows. taehyung nods, shifting his hand on the grip of his gun, and steps into the water behind jungkook.

there are so many pillars, and a significant number of cars and corners. they move through the darkness with their weapons up. jungkook's heartbeat thuds in his veins.

in the far corner is a rusty rolling door, wide enough to fit two cars. the ground begins to incline, and jungkook prays to whatever god there may be that past the door is daylight. he turns, his boots leaving prints on the dry concrete, and scans the garage. nothing moves.

he slips his gun into his belt and crouches, leveraging his fingers under the edge of the door. taehyung glances over his shoulder as jungkook grunts softly, straining. "need help?" he mutters.

jungkook tries again, pulling until his arms begin to tremble, and huffs as he leans back, lifting his torch and scanning the top of the door. the gears are rusted shut – worse than the door itself. old fungal growth crunches in the corner and the body collapsed in the corner is a jumble of bone, far past any danger of infection.

"we're not getting out this way," he replies quietly, rising to his feet and grabbing his gun. "we need to find another exit."

"what other exit?" taehyung asks. "the map gave us two, and neither is viable."

"yeah, hold on..." jungkook wracks his brain. the cold, damp, wet silence of the lot isn't helping, and he keeps spotting movement in the corner of his eyes that vanishes when he looks over. rippling water and the flash of eyes smooth out once he squints in its direction. he worries his lower lip between his teeth.

his eyes widen. "maintenance. there might be a maintenance tunnel we could use, or some sort of back entry for stock and shipments. it wouldn't be on the map but there’s bound to be one around."

"ah, por supuesto. we'd just have to head back up for that, get lucky and find a 'staff only' door that isn't locked up, actually leads to something, and not get swarmed by those damn runners while doing it all,” he states with a sarcastic edge, his jaw taut. something slinks past his shoulder and he whips around, aiming down the sights at disturbed water. his torchlight catches the flash of a desiccated hand and the edge of a blossoming fungal flower around the corner of a pillar. a single vein of bioluminescence reflects in the water, then vanishes.

he inches back towards jungkook, his boots splashing with every shift. his eyes dart around. his grip tightens on his gun. “¡madres! i don’t think these fuckers are gonna leave us alone for much longer. they’re doing the creepy fucking thing with their heads. i‘m gonna have to start shooting soon and i don’t wanna see how many there really are.”

"we either go up, or..." jungkook's gaze swings over back the way they came, towards the submerged car. "i think i saw a door there. open. how much to bet that it's our maintenance tunnel?"

taehyung's eyes follow his. his shoulders slump. "we're gonna have to swim...?"

shrugging, jungkook steps in front of him and licks his lips. he reaches up, pulling his dark curls to the back of his head. "you'd rather deal with clickers, runners,andhunters – or stalkers?"

taehyung's lips tighten. after a beat, he trails after jungkook. "i fucking hate this..."

swimming is the easy part, even when the water exceeds the height of the doors. the hard part becomes evident once they find solid ground.

the stench assaults jungkook's senses. his eyes water from the stink of decay, like overripe fruit and something far worse. he covers his nose and mouth, but nothing blocks the foul odour of cadaverine in a hallway of fresh, rotting bodies.

there are no flies – most of the damage seems to have come from the rats that squeak and disappear into nooks and crannies the moment that torchlight shines on their fat little bodies. behind him, taehyung retches, coughing and leaning heavily against the damp wall.

jungkook inspects the bodies. some lay face-down as if they'd fallen while running. others sit up against the walls, a variety of rifles, machetes, and bats scattered near their hands. the grey skin seems to have sunken closer to the bone as if the muscles beneath had been sucked out. several chests have been torn open to reveal half-eaten innards.

jeans, jackets, hats. civilians. hunters, most likely, based on the size of the group.

without a word, jungkook grabs taehyung's arm and pulls him through the bodies lining the curving hallway. they begin to thin out once jungkook makes a few twists and turns, and the maze-like tunnels all look the same. jungkook only stops once he can open his mouth without gagging.

taehyung looks ill. his face is pale under the beam of the torch.

"that was a massacre," jungkook says. "it wasn't starvation – or thirst."

taehyung nods unsteadily. "there were so many... so many bodies."

"they were hunters, taehyung. they were bad people."

taehyung glances back the way they came. "i guess so..."

jungkook takes his arm again, leading the way as he searches for something to tell him where they are. the walls are slick with algae, and some tunnels have collapsed with the weight of the water. jungkook knows they're getting somewhere when the sound of trickling water begins to fade.

at last, after several inclines, a set of steps, and several ducks through broken walls, the walls begin to dry, and the air smells fresher. hope sparks in his chest and taehyung feels it, too, hurrying forward in front of jungkook.

they turn a corner. the tunnel opens up into a dead end.

jungkook sighs, turning back to retrace their steps and try another route. but taehyung, ever the optimist, surges forward and inspects the walls closely, pressing his hands to the cold concrete. he squints upwards, following a series of rusted copper pipes.

"hey, jungkook."

he pauses. "what?"

"i think there's an opening up here, but i can't reach it. can you boost me?"

"an opening?" he doubles back. "where?"

taehyung points. over a shallow ledge, a darker section of shadow retreats into the wall. "boost me up, brother."

jungkook laces his fingers together and braces against the wall. taehyung isn't heavy, but he's still soaked thoroughly, and the wet slide of denim makes jungkook grimace. taehyung feels it, cursing in spanish as he shuffles along the narrow ledge.

he slides off his backpack. "hey, hold my bag. i need the space. be careful with that – it’s my baby."

“damn, i’ll catch it, alright? no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“será mejor que sí,” taehyung mutters to himself. his hand vanishes into the hole but stops abruptly, sliding along what seems like a wall – until he gives a hard shove, and the wall creaks and gives way.

taehyung's face scrunches as he presses both hands against it, managing to shove his arms around the corner. he pulls, and it slides with a scrape.

pale light sneaks through the gap.

"hey, we're getting somewhere," taehyung pants, shaking out his hands as he draws them back through the hole. "catch me if i fall, okay? this pretty face deserves to live."

he grips the edge of the ledge and drops his body over it, then swings his legs up on his other side. he sits up, hooking his hands around the edges of the hole he'd cleared, and pushes his weight against his feet, planted firmly on the blockage. slowly but surely, it gives, and with a final grunt of effort, taehyung creates a gap large enough to squeeze through.

"et voilà, or whatever," he laughs breathlessly. "gimme my bag. my gun's in it."

he snatches it out of the air, hugging it to his chest and sighing in relief. "thank god, you're safe. my precious baby. if anyone steals you, i’ll unleash hell on ‘em."

he stuffs it through the gap and follows it, slipping most of his body through but turning onto his stomach halfway through. he lowers a hand. "i hope you're not as heavy as you look, ese. otherwise, i might have to leave you behind."

"like hell you will," jungkook scoffs, stepping back for a run-up and catching his hand. "get out of the way and shove that thing a little more."

"yeah, yeah." he disappears, and now that jungkook's close, he can tell that it's wood – some sort of cupboard or drawer. "ugh, heavy piece of shit... can you fit your ass through that?"

"i think so."

for once in his life, he's right. he blinks, his eyes adjusting to the light, and notices he's in an apartment: old, stained, but dry and clean. the kitchen is full of food supplies, plus a camping stove – jungkook pulls out his gun.

"check the bathroom. i'll take the bedroom," taehyung mutters, following jungkook's lead.

the bathroom has been modified, jungkook notices. a tank of water rests on a few sturdy planks, its tap facing down into the shower, and an empty bucket sits under it. the mirror above the sink is cracked and dirty at the seams, but wiped down enough to see his reflection for the first time in a week.

dirt, mud, and old blood stain his clothes. his skin, golden-brown, looks surprisingly clean – that dip in the parking garage did wonders. the only thing he has to worry about now is the potential for worms that eat his eyeballs.

he exits the bathroom at the same time taehyung returns with a fresh outfit, rubbing down his hair furiously with a t-shirt. the clothes are too large – his raised arms reveal his thin hips and the tight belt he has to use on the jeans. he'd been skin and bones when they first crossed each other's paths, and jungkook didn't want to ask why.

"there're enough for you, too," he says when he spots jungkook, "in the wardrobe. i took dibs on the leather jacket; i hope you don't mind."

"it better not smell like corpses," jungkook replies wryly, peeking into the bedroom. it's small, with a bed and a cabinet. the cabinet has the distinctive shape of the bottom of a television printed into its wood from the sun.

he opens the wardrobe, not expecting much. it's hard to find practical clothes that fit, and every year, it's even harder – not just the search, either. he remembers finding tiny onesies displayed at a memorial altar in a dirty, peach-coloured bedroom, with a faded mobile swinging above a crib. the candles were long dead, and the shattered photo frame of a woman and a little, pink-faced newborn sat central to it all.

he shakes his head, pulling on his still-damp boots. no time to think about that kind of thing.

"we're close to a q-z, did you know?" taehyung comments when jungkook emerges, dressed in a hoodie and a thick flannel jacket. he gazes out of the window, one leg swinging absently. "right there. you can see the lights."

"you can head there if you like. no idea if they won't just kill you on sight, but once you're in, the soldiers will do all the shooting for you."

"and fight over stupid ration cards?" taehyung clicks his tongue. "bullies and assholes, all of 'em. i'd rather get into a knife fight with a moose."

"you'd never win. do you know how fucking huge moose are?"

"no, man, it's easy. you just grab their antlers and hang on while you stick 'em in the eyes and go right for the brain."

jungkook scoffs, though it almost sounds like a laugh. taehyung quirks a smile, turning towards the quarantine zone once more. his face slackens, and he leans back against the window sill. "can we just... stay here for a while? i'm really tired, ese."

jungkook sighs. "we can't. especially not here. someone lives here, and i'm sure they won't take kindly to our presence. we'll be goldilocks, and based on the size of these clothes and how much food they have, i don't doubt that this person could take on a bear and win."

"imagine," taehyung chuckles, "you saying that, and then it is a tiny child you could punt like a football."

"yeah, there're no kids here."

they whip around, reaching for their weapons, but the man in front of them tilts his head, as if in challenge. in his hands, held low at his hip, is a military-standard twelve-gauge shotgun. he steps forward, blocking taehyung's backpack on the bench. "hi," he says without a smile. "you need to leave. right now."

"hey, carnal! ¿qué se te ofrece?" taehyung chuckles mirthlessly, eyeing his bag behind the stranger's heels. he raises his open hands. "i've got medicine. if you'll give me my shit, i'll give you a bottle of penicillin, and we'll be on our way."

jungkook tenses at taehyung's casual, almost threatening tone. the fucker has ashotgunout – it would rip through them like wet paper.

his gaze flickers between them. a shiny scar crosses the side of his face, trailing down into the collar of his jacket. "don't need it. why are you wearing my clothes?"

jungkook's heart drops like a stone.fuck! fuck fuck fuckity fuck!"let's just all relax." he lifts his hands slowly. "we're sorry for barging in. we got lost and this was the only exit we could find."

taehyung's eyes flit to the hole in the wall. he points, as if snitching on a misbehaving classmate. "did you know you had a hole there?"

the man moves the shotgun in his grasp, shifting into a more casual stance, almost friendly. jungkook closes his eyes.

they're going to die.

"i know," he says. "leads to the q-z. helps me smuggle shit in and out. you'd be amazed at the gold they'll give me for a pack of cigs."

"i would kill for a cigarette," taehyung sighs wistfully. "you wouldn't have one on hand, would you?"

the man glances between them, his tongue sliding over his front teeth. his lips twitch, nearly a smirk, and he kicks taehyung's bag back towards the bench in the kitchen. "come sit, you two. been a while since i had guests."

taehyung nudges jungkook when he moves past, keeping his hands in sight as he pulls out a chair in the kitchen. he places his palms on the table, widening his eyes emphatically at jungkook.

with a slow exhale, he obliges, taking the seat nearest to the stranger. he copies taehyung, clasping his hands loosely in front of him.

the man swings his bag off of his shoulder onto the bench, unzipping it. he sets his shotgun beside him, not taking his eyes off of them. "so, you're q-z people wanting out? still doesn't explain why you've stolen my clothes."

"we're not," jungkook replies. the man picks up a square white packet, plucking a single stick from it, and lights it with a steel lighter from the pocket of his jeans. the tip flares to life, burning bright orange, and he places it between his lips. "we're from out of town. didn't mean to get anywhere near here."

he pulls the cigarette away, exhaling a curling bloom of grey smoke. "and where did you mean to go? i'm pretty good at getting places i ain't supposed to be. i could help you."

he steps closer, extending the cigarette to taehyung. he eyes it and licks his lips nervously, but accepts it, placing it between his lips under the stranger's watchful eye. he nods, leaning back, and taehyung allows the bitterness of a fresh, proper cigarette to warm his lungs.

"just to the shopping centre nearby," jungkook explains. "we were looking for supplies, but a horde of infected cut us off. we found a tunnel and eventually ended up here."

his head tilts, and he crosses his arms. jungkook manages to retain eye contact despite his head shouting at him to submit and defer.

"you didn't happen across some hunters who were torn to pieces by a pack of clickers, did you?"

they glance at each other in alarm. jungkook's hands itch for that cigarette. "we... did. we heard it happen from the pharmacy."

the man hums. "you're not here to join the q-z, you're not here toescapethe q-z, and you're not about to try to kill me for my shoes. i've made worse acquaintances. either of you fancy a can of bacon for dinner?"

"imight kill you for your shoes," taehyung butts in, taking another drag from the cigarette. "we could be hunters."

the man chuckles, and it's a surprisingly nice sound. it's melodic and warm. "hunters don't come in twos, and they certainly don't try to bargain as a first plan of action. now – bacon?"

they swap a glance, and jungkook notices the hesitance in taehyung's expression. hesitance means doubt, and doubt means that some part of him wants that bacon.

jungkook responds eventually: "sure. we'll take it." his eyes flicker again to taehyung, and he cracks his knuckles one by one to soothe his nerves. "you wouldn't be able to spare a drink, would you? my, uh, companion – he could use some water."

if he blinked, he'd have missed the slight shine in the man's eyes as he turns away. "yes, of course. here."

he tosses a water bottle taehyung's way, who catches it with the cigarette between his lips. hastily, he passes it to jungkook, barely getting all of the smoke out of his lungs before he chugs the water, sculling half of it in one breath. he pants softly, closing his eyes.

"you too, ponytail." a mug slides towards jungkook. "i don't have another bottle, but the water's safe."

he doesn't even stop to think. his paranoia lies silent at the sight of water, and it flows down his gullet before another thought passes through his mind.

it's been days since he last tasted clean water. it's the best thing in the world – better than cigarettes, better than bacon – and he feels its effects immediately, clearing his mind and making it easier to formulate his thoughts. it no longer feels like an effort to string together a sentence.

it's almost like a drug. when he comes to, he notices the man staring at him with an unreadable expression.

he reaches out. jungkook's body doesn't flinch, as if it knows, intimately and intrinsically, that he means no harm.

his callused thumb brushes a trail of water from his chin. his touch lingers, as if trying to figure him out – trying to find familiarity in the unknown.

he pulls away. "sorry. you... look like someone i knew."

it's a while before jungkook finds his voice. "oh," he whispers. he clears his throat, sitting up. "it's fine. we've all lost people we loved." he lifts his gaze, finding the stranger already looking back at him.

he seems to snap out of it, pushing himself off of the bench. he opens the cupboard and takes down a couple of cans of food, placing them on the table. "take these with you. if there's nothing else you need, you should take the north exit. patrols don't take that path and i cleared it out a few days ago, so you shouldn't encounter much for the first few miles. keep north and you should be out of the city before nightfall."

"thank you," taehyung says after a moment, glancing at jungkook when he doesn't say a word. he's staring at the man as if he's seen a ghost. "thanks for the food and water. and the cigarette." jungkook is still holding it. "we'll get out of your hair.ahem. you coming?"

his gaze snaps to taehyung's. he hurries out of the seat. "uh, right. yeah."

he extends the cigarette. the stranger takes it with a dip of his chin. he places it between his teeth, and the end burns brightly in the thin afternoon light.

as they take the front door, something buried deep and unmoveable in jungkook's psyche tugs at his will. he pauses. he turns, watching as the man puffs a perfect smoky ring into the air. it twists and curls before dissipating.

his lips part.

it slips past his teeth, your name. your name, like candied cherries – like round ice cubes, like sugary fruit jellies, a bittersweet novelty he dreams of each night.

you gaze at him with eyes of glass: eyes of stained glass, the towering panes of martyrs and patron saints – shattered, cracked with neglect and smothered by cold, grim nights.

but, when morning inevitably rises, the remnants of colour paint the pews with the glow of the sun, and jungkook is struck by every poetic, shallow, beautiful thing you have ever made him feel.

your eyes narrow, and the ashes from the butt of the cigarette flutter down to rest on the stone countertop as you stand straighter. "what'd you say?"

"jungkook," taehyung hisses through his teeth. "what are you doing?"

"that's your name," jungkook says quietly, stepping closer, "isn't it... hyung?"

your eyes flicker over his face – his eyelids, his nose, his jawline, the crease at the corner of his mouth and the soft upward tilt of the corners of his lips.

your thumb strokes the outline of his jaw, and he feels the tremble against his skin. he closes his eyes, pressing your palm to his cheek. the soft sound of your sharp inhale tugs at his heart.

"you're alive," you whisper hoarsely, raking your gaze over him, again and again, to carve his image into the back of your eyelids. the pale scar on his cheek is still there. "all this time, i – i thought—"

"it's okay, hyung," he sniffles, his eyes stinging. he throws his arms around you and you crash into each other, fingers digging painfully into each other's shoulders – flesh and bone, warm and beating. "you made it, too. we both made it. i'm so proud of us."

you close your eyes, burying your nose into his neck. he smells like sweat and effort, and his damp hair is full of grit. but he's warm and real, trembling in your arms as if you're ten years old all over again.

"my jungkook, my little jungkook," you murmur, chanting his name like a prayer, your lips pressed against his skin. you chuckle, and your eyes are damp. "not so little anymore, huh?"

he giggles wetly, his smile wobbling, and shakes his head. "'m always your kookie, hyung. 'm always your protector – i promised, didn't i?"

"you did," you exhale shakily, learning the new shape of him, where his shoulders align and where his face best fits against your neck. "my fierce little hero... i'm so glad you're home."

jungkook stares down at you, watching the even rise and fall of your chest with soft eyes. he cups your cheek in his palm, his lips twitching up as you lean into it unconsciously. his smile fades as he traces the outline of the burns trailing up your neck and lower jaw, ending just shy of the corner of your eye. the skin is soft and shiny, stretched with the years gone by.

he should have fought harder to stay with you.

in the corner of the room, sitting up between two cabinets, taehyung quietly refills his clips, sorting out the ammo they managed to come across. you had shared your stocks with them, and they'd been amazed at how much was stacked up in your wardrobe – apparently, trading for bullets was one of your main systems of barter.

"you should be sleeping," taehyung says, snapping the filled magazine into his handgun. he reaches for his bolt-action rifle, emptying the chamber. "i said that i'd take first watch."

"i don't feel tired," jungkook murmurs, brushing your hair from your lashes. "you can rest, if you want. i just..." he draws in a shaky breath, reaching down for your hand. he grips it, the slender tendons in his hand tensing and shifting. "i want to make sure he's alright."

taehyung speaks up: "how do you know each other? was this before... before everything went to shit?" he lifts his eyes above the rifle.“he your boyfriend?”

jungkook strokes shapes into the soft skin between your thumb and forefinger. "i've known him since before i could talk. i always loved him – but puberty makes everything weird, you know?" he chuckles to himself. "we weren't dating. not really. i was fourteen and scared of my own shadow, and i trusted the wrong people. they took me away from him and forbade i ever try to see him again, 'cause he wasn't one of us. they said they'd kill him if i tried. i thought i'd gained a family, but all i did was lose the only person i had left."

absently, he plays with your hair. touching you, feeling the warmth of your breath and the solid weight of your body, is the only way he can prove to himself that he isn't haunted by dreams of you.

"he's my everything," he whispers, his lips barely moving. his smile trembles and he lowers his head, pressing the backs of your knuckles against his lips and forehead. "my everything..."

your fingers squeeze his – gently, firmly. "don't blame yourself, hero. you did what you thought was right."

"i thought i could protect you," he sniffles. "i saw how they treated you, hyung. if – if i had a gun, if i had friends, i could get you out of there. but you were – you were hurt, i wasn't strong enough to carry you, i had no idea how to care for you... so i just... i just..."

out of the corner of your eye, the shadow of a man moves quietly out of the room. the door is no more – he moves into the kitchen, as far away from the bedroom as possible.

you hush him gently, sitting up. your knees cage his, and he feels small – tiny, young. as if everything bad will disappear if he hugs you hard enough. your lips nudge his cheek, warm and softer than he'd imagine. the scar shifts when you smile, so familiar that it aches like a bullet, but you no longer wince, no longer buckle under the pain.

he turns his face towards you like a flower to the sun. he slips his fingers around your nape, guiding your lips to his.

he's never kissed anyone before. it's never been a priority, what with all the infected chasing his guts. but, god, how he's thankful you are his first.

he's messy, awkward, bumping noses and clicking teeth. you tilt your head and pull him into you, his ear bordered by your thumb and forefinger. the lobe still has the tiny pockmark of an earring long gone – he'd been so excited, beaming with pride at the fact that he could now partake in his mother's morning ritual of choosing what silver matches which shirt.

you part, panting softly against each other's lips. the faint pale light filling the room illuminates him like a ghost – a memory, blurred around the edges.

you chuckle softly, stroking his cheek. the pad of your thumb swipes gently over his lower lip. "you really stink."

he laughs, giving your wrists a brief squeeze. "sorry. swam through shit to get here."

you lift a brow. "actual shit?"

"i fucking hope not."

you grin, taking the point of his chin between your fingers and bringing him to your lips once more. he sighs into it, fingers curling tightly in your thin grey shirt. your jacket is heavy around his shoulders, and feels kinder, warmer, than what he chose out of your wardrobe. he doesn't know why – you've certainly worn that jacket before, and he knew it belonged to you. he doesn't know why stealing things off of your back makes him feel more loved than stealing things off of your shelf.

"do you remember?" he whispers. "when we were little?"

"what about it?"

he bathes in your presence, your warmth. your hands are rough and callused, covered in scar tissue, but so are his. both of you have been through hell and back to stand where you are now. but where that is? it's together, standing in the same building, the same room, breathing the same fucked-up air that likes to carry extinction on its back.

"we promised we'd protect each other, forever and ever," he hums, linking his fingers with yours. he compares hand sizes with a soft smile. "well,ipromised, at least. you might've just said it to stop me from throwing a tantrum. i'd like to keep that promise... if you'd let me."

"jungkook..."

"i know, i know," he interrupts hastily, "you don't want me to get hurt. but it's the end of the fucking world – if we're all gonna die, i'd rather die beside you than with that idiot outside. i don't even know spanish. i don't think he knows that."

"you took two years of french, you can guess," you snicker good-naturedly. "but, if you need it, i am here. here is an offer – why don't you ask the kid outside to join me and you? you seem to trust him and he's got balls of steel, talking like that to someone pointing a shotgun at their chest. i could, well, teach you my ways."

"your ways?" he tilts his head. "smuggling, you mean?"

you shrug. "it's definitely better than being a scav and surviving on moss and tree bark. if you really wanna leave – well, i won't stop you. but i'm not letting you out of my damn sight. might run off on me again."

"i won't run," he promises, placing a kiss on the curve of your throat. "and i'll only tell taehyung your offer if you can get him to stop talking like he does. he says the same phrases in spanish all the time, and i'm never closer to understanding what they mean."

you nudge his shoulder. "you call me 'hyung' all the time, hero. bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

he lets out a dismissive noise. "yeah, okay..."

"that's what i thought. now be a dear and go offer him a place to stay. you'll be in danger of getting shot at a little more, but the payoff's pretty good. i haven't had to worry about running out of ammo since i began, and quite a number of people are willing to trade their rations."

he smacks your shoulder as he stands. "so that's how you haven't yet been whittled down to a stick. you promise people the impossible."

"not impossible." you rise to your feet, following him. "i say i'll get them out of the city and i do. their survival beyond that is none of my concern."

he giggles softly, lacing your fingers together. "hard-ass. i like that in a man."

"yeah? i like a man who—"

an emphasised cough.

both of you turn. sitting on the windowsill, his boots rocking a chair back and forth on its hind legs, is taehyung. he lifts his hand to the cigarette between his lips. the end flares brightly in the dim room.

"so," he puffs through a cloud of smoke, "i take it that you've made up. or made out. both, probably." he turns towards jungkook. "you got a plan, brother? it's getting dark out."

briefly, jungkook goes over it with him. his eyes widen further with every sentence.

"smuggling? you wantmeto be discreet?" he asks. "that's like asking a fish to climb a tree. i don't think i can – i'm sorry. i'd just put both of you at risk."

"once upon a time, jungkook couldn't sleep without a nightlight, but now you tell me he's the one storming into flooded parking lots festering with stalkers. i'm sure i can get you to shut your mouth for an hour or two while we go trade with a couple of my people."

"we?" jungkook glances at you.

you cross your arms, lifting a shoulder. "you wanted to learn. just so happens that i have a deal lined up for later tonight with a few guys inside the q-z. it's easy," you tell them when they share a dubious glance. "i'm heading out at first light to deliver the package. consider tonight a taste of tomorrow –ifyou decide you want in."

"i'm with you until the end of time," jungkook murmurs, resting his head against your shoulder. "gross poetry coming from me, i know. but it's true."

you kiss his temple. he smiles into your shirt.

"ah, for fuck's sake, nos van a meter al bote," taehyung mutters. he flicks the short stump of the cigarette, drained as far as he dares, into the ashtray, stamping out the flame. "do they even arrest people anymore? or is it just a small-calibre to the head?"

you reach forward, catching the chair before it slips and falls. you right it, pushing it under the table. "i wouldn't know. i've never been arrested."

"but you've been in there, right?" taehyung gestures to the quarantine zone. "surely you've seen someone get cuffed, and not in a sexy way."

"the last time i was in one of them, i was a teenager," you say simply, "and confined to medical. you can trust me, taehyung – i've been doing this since forever. besides, would you rather die from a bullet to the brain or be torn apart by a pack of clickers?"

he mutters begrudgingly, "the former." he jumps to his feet, stretching high above his head until his back pops. "very well. you've got me. i'll be your third wheel, but promise me that any and all displays of affection will be kept private – or at least in a corner that i am not in. ¿queda claro?"

"yes, it's clear," you say, amused. "alrighty, then – grab only what you'd need to protect yourself in case we're cornered. the rest you can leave behind, and i promise that it'll be here when we return."

while taehyung empties his backpack, swapping his rifle for a fine-looking machete he'd found in your room, you take jungkook by the hands, pressing your forehead against his. he hums softly, closing his eyes.

"i've missed you like hell," he whispers, stroking the delicate skin of your inner elbow. "i feel like i can do anything, now."

"careful, hero," you chuckle, pressing your lips to his to relish in his beating, tangiblesolidness. "you might just burn the world to keep us warm."

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