Chapter Text
Call was trying his best to not blush, thank you very much.
Aaron had practically body slammed him to the ground, one arm around his back and the other clamped over Call’s mouth like he had planning screaming to the flesh-eating for zombies for help. Call shot him several annoyed glances and when he tried to pry Aaron’s very big and rough hand from his face, he’d only pulled Call closer.
So, yes, Call was technically flushing because a very cute boy was pinning him down, but in every other hormone-induced fantasy it had never quite been a situation like this before (and by situation Call means the zombie apocalypse while being held captive by said cute boy). But he was trying to hide it by turning his face away from Aaron and hoped the dimness of the closet would do the rest of the work.
There was groaning, eerily similar to the ones Call had heard in the city, but then again all zombies tended to have the same vocal range. It went on for a few long minutes and then it was just a few stragglers gurgling and stumbling to keep up. Just to be safe, Call and Aaron stayed on the ground long after the last moan dispersed.
Slowly the closet door creaked open and Havoc stuck his head in.
Aaron seemed to finally realize what he was doing because he retracted his arm like Call burnt him, standing up just as quick. He brushed down his clothes with a stiff hand and Call couldn’t tell if the redness on the back of his neck was from his subsiding anger or getting upright too quickly.
“I’m going to check on the others,” Aaron said and stepped around Havoc and through the door.
Havoc looked between the cracked door and Call, still on the ground.
“He’s overprotective, that’s it,” Call hissed as he awkwardly stood up.
Havoc would definitely be wiggling his eyebrows if he had any. Instead his tongue lolled out of his mouth and nosed at Call’s hand.
There was murmuring through the door and he could catch snippets of need to disinfectant and damn, he’s got one mean hook and what are going to do with him?
Call wasn’t a genius but even a dead-brain zombie could tell they were talking about him. And not the good kind. Honestly, Call had never had the good kind of talking behind someone’s back. He mostly just got disruption in class and liability.
Call was not going to wait around to find out what they wanted to do with him.
“You ready to bounce?” Call asked Havoc who responded with a wag of his tail.
As quietly as he could, he went over to the loose vent and peered through the cracks. It was still early morning and no zombies in sight. Perfect conditions for an escape.
Havoc, however, seemed to realize what ‘bouncing’ entailed and was currently pressing himself in the farthest corner and giving Call a very indignant look that said absolutely not.
“Dude, come on, it’s like three seconds and then it’s over.”
Havoc pointedly sat down.
“Oh my God, I swear I am going to-”
The door swung open and Havoc jumped up, tail wagging, and Call stumbled away from the vent and put on his best not-trying-to-escape face. It didn’t seem to pass all that well from Aaron’s frown.
“What are you doing?”
Call lifted a shoulder sheepishly. “Trying to escape?”
Aaron crossed his arms over his chest and Call did not look at how his biceps bulged.
“In you case you didn’t notice, there’s a horde stumbling around. If you want to be zombie bait, then escape. If you want to live, stay here and wait it out. Once the time comes, we’ll talk again.” Aaron spoke like a leader and Call found himself listening intently despite his want to brush him off. There was something inherently dominant in the way Aaron held himself and looked, shoulders squaring and jaw clenching. He was everything Call wasn’t and it made him mad.
Havoc seemed to sense his rising temper and padded over, pressing himself hard against Call’s bad leg. Aaron looked between the two of them, before slowly uncrossing his arms and his shoulders dropped. He suddenly seemed like a teenage boy stretched too thin all over again.
“Look just - I’m sorry, alright? I know that we’ve both seen some shit, good and bad, and that we’re strangers, but I’m asking you to trust me. Just a little bit. I’m going to talk to Jasper and keep him from bothering you. Just one more day until the horde is gone and we’ll get out of your hair. Okay?”
Call took a deep breath. Havoc’s tail thumped him hard in the back of his calf twice as if to say tell him yes, dumbass.
“One more day. That’s it. I also want my bag back when I leave,” Call said, hoping his voice sounded firm enough.
Aaron hastily nodded and opened the door wider.
“Done. You want some breakfast?”
At the mention of breakfast, Havoc bounded out of the room and past an amused Aaron.
“Traitor,” Call muttered as he begrudgingly followed him. Aaron’s laugh was deep and husky and did not send shivers down Call’s back.
--
The rest of the group ignored Call as they ate but that was more than fine with him. He had grinned when he saw Jasper’s bruised and bloodied face, not once ounce of remorse in his body as he swiped up a can of peaches and went back around the counter where he had been tied up before. Havoc ate his wet dog food like a slob, all wet noises and heavy breathing that made Call hiss at him to stop being gross more than once.
Call was on his second can, this one sliced oranges, when Aaron rounded the counter and offered him a half-smile.
“Room for one more?” He asked as he peeled back the top and dug his fork in.
Call shoved a spoonful into his mouth and glared hard at Aaron’s knees. “I guess.”
Aaron sat down with a gracefulness Call would never have and ate quietly. Well, as quiet as it could get with Havoc practically making love to his food.
“You know, I never got your name,” Aaron said as he set his empty can aside.
Call blinked, before realizing, no he hadn’t. Too busy being taken hostage and then hiding from a horde.
“My name’s Callum Hunt, but everyone - my dad calls me Call.”
Aaron nodded and ran a hand through his bangs as he leaned back. He really was attractive now that Call wasn’t being tied up or pinned down because of a horde of zombies. His eyes were bright green with dark eyelashes, tanned skin and unruly blonde hair. Wide shoulders and rounded chest that was a stark difference to Call’s gangly limbs and bird-like build. And not to mention his lame leg.
“Aaron Stewart. I’m about to be eighteen on the fifteenth. What about you?”
Call felt like this was suspiciously what teenagers did at drinking parties, but then again, the only time he had ever gotten drunk was when him and his dad were holed up in an apartment while a horde passed. His leg was burning with cramps and Call was sobbing for anything to take the pain off, so his dad had shoved half a bottle of Jack down his throat to quiet him down. He had vomited the entire day after and vowed to never drink again. So, far from the typical teenage party with the red solo cups and seven minutes in heaven type of shit.
“I’m seventeen too,” Call replied and scraped the bottom of the can with his spoon. He sucked what little juice he could and looked up to see Aaron pointedly staring at the space above Call and his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Cool, uh,” Aaron scratched at the back of his head and his eyes shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Call sighed and put his can to the side. He knew what someone looked like when they didn’t want to talk to him.
“Look, I’m fine. Don’t talk to me if you don’t want to.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed. “Why would you think I don’t want to talk to you?”
“Maybe because I beat in your friend’s face? Does that ring a bell?”
“Yeah, but we tied you up. I think it’s fair.”
Call groaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and then hissed as the bruises throbbed. He’d almost completely forgotten about that.
“Do you want me to look at that? To make sure your eye doesn’t get inflamed or something?” Aaron asked a little shyly as he moved closer. Havoc shot him a wary look like he was half-expecting him to pull out some zip ties, but then just went back to lying down and licking his paws. Worst guard dog ever.
Before Call can adamantly say no, thank you very much, Aaron had already moved in front of him and cupped his face between his rough hands. There was no doubt hiding it this time around - Call was definitely blushing. His skin was practically radiating heat has Aaron tiled his head to get a better look and hummed under his breath.
“Doesn’t seem too bad, but if your eye starts giving you trouble, let me know.” Aaron’s breath was hot on Call’s jaw and goddamn.
Aaron started to pull back and then stopped midway, eyes suddenly widening as he seemed to realize the position they were in. A dark flush crept up the front of his neck and the tips of his ears and suddenly the hands on Call’s face were just a little clammy.
Call’s lungs had stop working. He was going to suffocate any second now because a very cute boy was holding Call’s face like he was about smooch him.
“Aaron? Can you come help us ration these?” A girl’s face carried over the store and suddenly they were both scrambling back, faces flushed and chests heaving. Call yanked up his empty can and pretended to fish out an imaginary orange slice while Aaron ran a hand through his hair and over the front of his shirt.
“Yeah, coming!”
Aaron didn’t glance back as he got up and walked off.
Havoc was staring at Call with his metaphorical eyebrows raised.
“Fuck off,” Call snapped without any real heat and held out the can so Havoc could lick it over.