Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It’s only once night falls that Yoongi decides to leave. It’s been eight hours since Taehyung hurried out of the apartment, telling Yoongi that he would be back, because he always comes back—he just needs to get his grandmother first, needs to make sure that she’s safe. Yoongi wanted to tell him that travelling with an elderly woman wouldn’t increase their chance of survival, but the way Taehyung has always talked about his grandmother kept Yoongi’s mouth shut.

So he waited instead, watched as the clock on the wall tick, tick, ticked. He watched as throngs of people poured into the streets, leaving everything behind in hopes of finding somewhere better, in hopes of avoiding the end. It’s inevitable, he knows, but Yoongi isn’t stupid enough to let himself die here.

He isn’t stupid enough to let Taehyung die here, either, which is why he waited for eight hours. But then the streets went quiet, more or less, everyone in the neighbourhood having evacuated like they were told to. But then the sun began to sink beyond the horizon, and Taehyung still hadn’t returned and—there’s a good chance he won’t return. He could be dead. He could have decided that it was easier to just keep going, leave Yoongi behind, although it would be unlike him to much such a decision.

Whatever it is—Yoongi knows that he can’t wait any longer. Once the streetlights come on, he packs up, shoving a change of clothes, his phone, his wallet into the backpack he’d been using for classes up until a week ago. He doesn’t feel bad about the textbooks and other belongings he leaves scattered around his bedroom.

He thought it would be hard to leave, knowing that everything he knows is here, but—there’s a sort of detachment to the way Yoongi takes one last look around the apartment he shared with Taehyung for two years, hikes the strap of his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. At the last second, he grabs Taehyung’s old bat. Closes the door behind him.

He doesn’t bother to lock it; he won’t be coming back anyway.

It’s a citywide evacuation, one that started eight hours ago; Yoongi could be long, long gone from Daegu by now. He heard there are boats to Japan, but he also heard that the outbreak started on the southern shores anyway, which means heading south will be like walking into the lion’s den. Yoongi, as he has learned in the past eight hours, cares more about self-preservation than he previously thought. He cares about Taehyung, too, though, which is why he waited—but he can’t wait anymore. Daegu is already a ghost town.

It’s only a matter of time before it becomes a zombie town, too.

Yoongi heads for the stairs, aware that the setting sun is dangerous for him at a time like this; the ones who decided to stay behind will likely be looking to mug anyone who seems unable to hold their own. The ones who decided to leave, but were delayed like Yoongi himself will likely be looking to—well, mug anyone who seems unable to hold their own. Humans get desperate when they need to be. But Yoongi is small and fast, and he’s always been good at getting out of sticky situations. If he can find a car with the keys still in it, he can be on the way to Seoul in no time.

He’s halfway down the corridor when he hears it—crying. It’s loud, a sort of pathetic, hiccupping sobbing that makes his feet pause. Yoongi pinpoints the noise easily, eyes drawn to the door of the apartment he’s currently standing outside of, and—Yoongi needs to leave. He needs to leave. He told himself he would go, he would survive on his own because if he stops to help anyone else, he’ll only be slowed down. Compassion is not conducive to survival and never has been.

Except—the sobbing quiets a little. Somehow, it makes Yoongi feel worse.

“Fuck,” he mutters, already stepping toward the door. It’s a bad idea, but even in times like these—apocalyptical times, as his pessimistic mind reminds him—Yoongi still has something of a conscience. It’s probably a child, someone whose parents didn’t come home after work, and Yoongi decides he can pass it off to the first caring group of people he finds.

The door to the apartment is slightly ajar, giving Yoongi access as he gently pushes on it and heads inside.

“Hello?” he calls out. There’s a shuddering gasp from somewhere to his right, and the sounds of crying stop altogether. “Um—is someone here? I heard crying.”

Yoongi ventures further into the apartment, following the gasp, and when he rounds the corner into the living room, he comes to an abrupt stop. There, curled on the ground in one corner of the room, is—a hybrid. A bunny hybrid, Yoongi notes, taking in the sight of the long, floppy black ears that the hybrid appears to be hiding behind. The bunny is visibly shaking, trying to hold back sobs that can’t quite stay inside, ears draped over its face and knees.

Internally, Yoongi repeats his earlier sentiment—fuck.

“Hey,” he says gently, approaching as slowly as he can so not to scare the hybrid. He wishes Taehyung’s grandmother hadn’t told him to be such a nice boy every time she visited. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. Are you okay?”

The hybrid curls even further into itself, making little whimpers and sobbing noises that convey just how frightened and upset it is. Yoongi doesn’t have much experience with hybrids, always thinking it was weird to adopt one as a pet, but—he’s never been one to discriminate either. Besides, it’s clear that this hybrid has been abandoned by the family that owned it when they evacuated, which tugs on the few heartstrings Yoongi actually has.

He reaches the hybrid, crouching in front of it and trying to get a peek at its face, still covered by the bunny ears. “I know you’re scared,” he says, “but I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to—” Yoongi realizes he doesn’t actually know what he wants to do. There’s no way he can bring a bunny hybrid with him, but there’s something heartbreaking about the situation, so. He’ll be a nice person for a few minutes.

Yoongi leans sideways in an attempt to see the hybrid’s face and finally catches a glimpse of it—eyes squeezed shut in fear, tears streaking cheeks, a pout on pink lips. He sees enough to conclude the hybrid is a boy, the black of his hair matching the black of his ears.

“My name is Yoongi,” he tries. “I live just a few doors down from you. Or—I did, I guess. I’m leaving, though, because of the evacuation. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” The hybrid recoils a bit, still shaking. Yoongi sighs. “They left you, didn’t they?” he asks. “Your owners. Pretty fucked up thing to do, if you ask me. They adopted you and promised to take care of you, and as soon as things get tough, they just abandoned you rather than doing the right thing and taking you with them.” He feels himself get a little angry just talking about it, thinking about grown adults choosing to leave behind this hybrid—he knows that most people don’t see hybrids as equal to humans, fundamentally, but simply abandoning them during a time of crisis—Yoongi can’t fathom it.

Still, the bunny just hiccups, tightens the fold of his arms around his knees.

Yoongi realizes that it’s hopeless. If the hybrid isn’t even going to look at him, he can’t sit around and wait for it; he’s losing the last of daylight fast, and the longer he waits, the more likely he’ll be to run into rioters—or zombies.

“Alright, well,” begins Yoongi, standing up again. The hybrid finally, finally reacts—by making a needy sound of protest in the back of his throat, lifting his head so quickly that his big ears slide sideways to reveal—bigger eyes, staring up at Yoongi now with a fresh look of fear in them. It’s a different kind of fear, though, not of Yoongi himself but of his absence.

Yoongi stares back. It’s probably not the right time to note that the bunny is pretty, although somehow, it makes him angrier that his owners abandoned him like this.

“No,” says the hybrid, voice small and small and small.

“No?” asks Yoongi.

The hybrid nods.

“You… don’t want me to leave?”

The hybrid blinks a few times, finally uncurls from his position a bit, but only to use his hands to move his ears, flipping them so they’re draped down his back rather than over his face. “Take me with you,” he says, bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he wipes at his teary eyes; he’s got sweater paws, Yoongi sees. It shouldn’t make the decision easier.

And it doesn’t—Yoongi is aware that he walked into this situation when he decided to check out the crying noise. Still, he frowns. “Are you going to keep up with me?” he asks.

The hybrid is quick to nod, sniffling a little. “I’m fast,” he says.

“Right, ‘cause you’re a hybrid,” says Yoongi, although he doesn’t trust that from how skinny the kid is. He can’t be older than nineteen to Yoongi’s twenty-three, looks like he’d sooner trip over his own two feet than be able to outrun a bunch of zombies if that’s what it comes down to.

Still, the hybrid nods again. “Yeah, and—and I’ll be good,” he adds. “I’ll listen to you.” That’s something, Yoongi thinks; if he tells the hybrid to start following someone else, he’ll listen. As much as Yoongi doesn’t want the responsibility of this kid, doesn’t want to be slowed down or have to worry about keeping someone else alive, there’s a sort of hopeful look in the bunny’s eyes now, and… Yoongi can’t, with any working moral compass, deny that.

He kicks himself for not being selfish. Zombies are literally taking over the country and now he’s heaving a sigh, gesturing for the hybrid to stand up.

“Fine,” he says. “You can come with me, at least for a little bit. But as soon as we come across someone else who is willing to help you, you’re not my problem anymore, okay?”

It’s not a very kind deal, yet the hybrid instantly scrambles to his feet, ears perking up as he nods and—smiles, bunny teeth on display as though anything about this is something to be smiling over. “Okay,” he says, ears laying down his back again. “Yeah, okay.”

Yoongi regards the bunny for another moment before he sighs again. “Is there anything you want to grab from here before we go?” he asks, to which the hybrid shakes his head. At least that’ll make things easier. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Jeongguk,” says the hybrid. “I’m a bunny.”

Yoongi snorts. “Yeah, I figured that out, kid,” he says, and then he’s turning and heading for the door, assuming, as he knows he will for the rest of their (hopefully) short journey together, that his new bunny companion is following dutifully.

It becomes evident very quickly that Jeongguk is a little hopeless. He nearly trips going down the stairs—twice—and he’s still crying a little, hiccupping once in a while as he sniffles behind Yoongi. And Yoongi, because he’s really, really trying to be nice, doesn’t say anything, knowing that everything about this must be terrifying for the hybrid. Hell, it’s terrifying for Yoongi, and he’s not someone’s abandoned pet.

Once they get out of the building, it gets worse. The street is lit only by streetlights, a sort of unnerving silence having settled over the whole city; there might be someone waiting in the shadows. The zombies haven’t quite gotten into Daegu yet, but Yoongi knows the fuckers are fast, which means he and Jeongguk can’t walk without running the risk of getting caught up with.

“We need a car,” says Yoongi as he ventures into the street, surveying it and trying to decide which way to go. “I’m going to Seoul—heard it’s supposed to be safer there, or they’ve got more transportation heading out of the country, anyway, and—” He stops suddenly, when he feels a hand curling into his elbow and turns to see Jeongguk curled into his side, holding onto him with wide eyes staring down the street.

“Uh,” says Yoongi. “Can you—not cling to me?” It’s not that Yoongi doesn’t want Jeongguk clinging to him, it’s just that… he doesn’t want Jeongguk clinging to him. He likes his personal space.

Jeongguk turns his wide, wide eyes to Yoongi, a little crease appearing in his brows. “B-but,” he mumbles. “I’m scared.”

Yoongi sighs. “Yes, I can tell,” he says; the kid is practically shaking, but the grip he has on Yoongi’s arm is somewhat painful. “You have nothing to be afraid right now, though. Look—the street is empty. You can… stick close to me, but don’t touch me.”

Jeongguk stares for another moment before relenting, hand dropping from Yoongi’s arm. He doesn’t move back at all though, practically pressed against Yoongi’s side and making himself smaller, smaller. The large bunny ears draped down his back make the rest of him look small, too, in comparison. Yoongi already regrets agreeing to let him come along.

Still, they need to get moving, so he gestures for Jeongguk to follow him as he picks a direction at random—left. Jeongguk, mercifully, stays silent as they walk, Yoongi trying to peer into every car that they come across in case someone left the keys out. He has no idea why they would, but it’s not the time to try to learn how to hotwire a vehicle, so he finds himself hoping for the best.

They walk for blocks, each car—the ones that are left, anyway—void of keys. Yoongi feels his hope waning, and Jeongguk still won’t stop sniffling behind him, pressed close enough to Yoongi that sometimes he steps on his heels. Yoongi won’t tell him off, too afraid of making him cry, which will just attract attention, and now that the sky is dark, that’s the last thing they want.

It’s as they’re just leaving the residential streets that Yoongi hears them—it doesn’t sound like zombies, but he still stops walking, causing Jeongguk to bump into him with a soft oh. He quickly turns and puts a finger to his lips, indicating for the hybrid to be quiet (not that Jeongguk hasn’t been quiet this whole time, clearly docile and harmless, especially when frightened, although his ears instantly perk up when he picks up on the noises that Yoongi hears too) before brandishing his bat. He takes a step down the street, heading out of the streetlight, and when Jeongguk curls his hand around Yoongi’s bicep, he doesn’t have the heart to shake him off.

It sounds like—humans. There’s talking, some yelling, and the sound of glass smashing. Creeping forward, Yoongi surveys the house on the end of the street, and it’s when he sees a group of people clearly breaking into it that he stops again.

Fuck.

Looters.

There shouldn’t be a reason to be afraid of them—they want the houses, clearly going for valuables or food or both in the wake of nearly everyone evacuating the city. Still, they have bats in their hands, too, and large rocks, and they’re laughing. Yoongi counts two, four, six of them, feelings his stomach stirring with discomfort as Jeongguk’s hand curls tighter on his bicep.

Yoongi decides it would be easier to sneak by, already taking a few slow and silent steps down the street. The looters are too busy trying to break into the house to notice them—or they would be, except Jeongguk suddenly trips over the edge of the sidewalk and lets out a loud yelp.

For a moment, when Yoongi’s stomach drops, he thinks maybe the looters didn’t hear. And then one of them turns to look at what made the noise, recognizes that there are two helpless people just standing there.

He hears someone yell, “Is that a hybrid?” and then—Yoongi grabs Jeongguk’s arm and runs. The thing is, hybrids are always valuable. They may be pets, more or less, but they’re not meant to be running around on the streets, and on a good day, a person can get a hefty sum for catching a wild hybrid, one who has run away or been abandoned, and selling it to an adoption agency—or worse, an experimental lab.

He has no idea what adoption agencies will be open now that a zombie outbreak has started, but—he thinks about the labs. Thinks about someone wanting to test how the hybrids react to the virus, thinks about how sometimes, in the darkest parts of society, hybrids have been used as slaves of every kind.

So he runs, dragging Jeongguk with him as he hears footsteps behind them. “C’mon,” he shouts, tugging Jeongguk harder. “C’mon, they’re coming—” He’s breathing heavily already, kicking himself for not keeping up with cardio as he reaches the end of the next street and turns the corner down a back alley, hoping the darkness will work to their advantage.

The shouts from behind him get louder, like someone rallying a war cry, and his panic spikes. He’s so afraid of Jeongguk slowing him down, this fucking bunny, and this is why he told himself he’d go alone.

Except—except Jeongguk doesn’t slow him down. Instead, when they make it out of the alley and into the next street and one of the looters is there, having taken another way to cut them off, he feels Jeongguk wrench his arm out of Yoongi’s grasp and bolt down the street. And he’s—fast, long legs carrying him much farther than Yoongi’s can. It’s a weird time to realize Jeongguk has a fluffy black tail poking out of a hole in the back of his jeans, because of course he does, he’s a bunny, and he thinks, vaguely, that bunnies are fast, but—

“Hey!” he hears called from the looter he’s not trying to leave in the dust, running after Jeongguk. “Hey, give us your hybrid! We’ll pay you!”

“Fuck off!” Yoongi yells back, already wheezing as he tries to run as fast as he can, and Christ, Jeongguk is already a block ahead of him. He feels a hand close around his shoulder and he panics, turning and swinging his bat. It collides with the shoulder of the looter, sending him careening sideways and to the ground, and that’s all Yoongi needs before he turns and runs, runs.

He follows Jeongguk, able to see him as nothing more than a little bounding figure. Yoongi feels like his lungs are going to explode, but he keeps running and running, at least until he’s blocks from where he left the looters behind and he knows for sure that they aren’t following.

Then he yells, “Jeongguk!” It’s a little raspy as he finally slows to a light jog, then stops entirely and—fuck, he feels like he’s going to throw up. Yoongi doubles over, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

He’s afraid the bunny won’t come back, too frightened. He’s afraid there are other looters or rioters or fucking zombies hiding the shadows and they’re going to eat him. But then he hears footsteps in front of him and he straightens up instantly, brandishing his bat again as he heaves. It’s Jeongguk, though, barely having broken a sweat as he slows to a halt in front of Yoongi. His ears perk up a bit, searching for any sound of approaching danger, before he says, sheepishly, “Sorry I left you.”

“No, uh,” says Yoongi, heart rate finally returning somewhat to normal. At least he can breathe. “No, it was good, Jeongguk. They wanted you, so it’s good that you ran.” He puts the bat down, tries to shake the soreness in his legs out a bit. If they’re going to be walking for any amount of time, he’s going to have to get used to it.

Jeongguk’s ears fall back down, and he reaches up to grab one of them, just kind of holding it as he stares at Yoongi. “Why did they want me?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” says Yoongi. “People are—weird about hybrids. At least we didn’t have to find out.”

The answer seems to appease Jeongguk, who nods and lets go of his ear.

Now that Yoongi has caught his breath, he nods to himself, and then decides they might as well keep walking. They’re out of the residential area now, heading past locally owned businesses and other mom and pop stores that Yoongi always found endearing; it’s one of the reasons he likes (liked) living in this area. Now, though, the windows are dark. A few of them are already broken, too, looters having broken in to take what they want.

He sighs and gestures for Jeongguk to follow him as he starts off down the street again. He thinks about Jeongguk taking off, turns to look at the hybrid, who is finally giving him a bit of space. But only a bit.

“I didn’t think you would be able to run that fast,” says Yoongi.

“Neither did I,” mutters Jeongguk, eyebrows furrowed.

“What, you’ve—never run around before?”

Jeongguk looks at him. “The Kims wouldn’t let me go outside,” he says bluntly. “Not without one of them, anyway, and even then, they kept me on a very, very short leash.”

Yoongi thinks about it—thinks about them abandoning Jeongguk, too, and it just makes him hate them more.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not going to slow me down,” he says. “I really thought you would. You’re so—” He pauses, taking in the way Jeongguk is looking at him, all wide eyes and questions, vulnerability. He’s still curling in on himself, trying to make himself smaller, ears draped over his back again. “You just… don’t look like you’d be able to hold your own.”

Jeongguk drops his eyes suddenly, fingers fidgeting with the bottom of his sweater. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s not like I learned how to hold my own.” Yoongi realizes he doesn’t really know how hybrids are normally treated as pets—likely how purely animal pets are treated, and Yoongi knows about those. But it’s strange to see that Jeongguk is more human than animal, but was still treated as though he was worse.

He’s about to reply, say something about—being sorry, maybe, as though it’ll change anything, but he’s interrupted by the sound of Jeongguk’s stomach growling. The hybrid lets out an embarrassed noise, instantly folding his arms over his stomach, and Yoongi—laughs.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, and Jeongguk nods. “I’m sure we can find a convenience store around here.”

They do find one, a few blocks down, the lights still on and most of the windows broken. There’s food left on the shelves, though, more than enough for the two of them, and Yoongi doesn’t feel bad when he steps through the open door. The owners are long gone, clearly, and—no one is coming back. They have to eat somehow.

Yoongi grabs a few packages of samgak kimbap and other premade food, stuffing most of it into his backpack, and then goes for cookies, too, grabs drinks that he knows will keep his energy up. With night approaching, he has no idea what he’s going to do about stopping and sleeping but—they need to get further out of the city, at least.

He finds Jeongguk waiting at the entrance of the store, holding about six bottles of banana milk, two bags of cone chips, and a Mr. Big chocolate bar. He looks proud of himself, too, giving Yoongi a little grin even as Yoongi eyes what he’s chosen.

“Are you going to eat any real food?” he asks, and Jeongguk looks down at his armful of treats.

“This is real food,” he says.

Yoongi ends up sharing some of his own food with Jeongguk, anyway, as they sit on the curb outside of the convenience store. The city is silent, truly night now, and Yoongi thinks about—needing a car. He thinks about how hopeless all of this is. He has no idea what he’s doing, just knows that Seoul is supposed to be a safe zone, but it’s so, so far away.

It could be worse, he thinks—they could be in Busan instead, which has apparently been entirely overrun by zombies. The outbreak started in Busan, some freak virus in one of the hospitals, and then—then it was chaos. Yoongi doesn’t know if these zombies are like the zombies of literature and movies, but he’s heard enough on the news to put his stomach in knots: aggressive, fast, a craving for human flesh. The loss of humanity entirely and the slow decomposition of the skin. Mindless monsters, killing and spreading the virus until it takes over the whole fucking world.

And Yoongi is just—running. Because it’s the only thing he can do.

Once they finish eating, Jeongguk carefully placing the rest of his banana milk and snacks into Yoongi’s backpack, they head out again. It’s evident, then, that eating and finding a bit of safety has helped Jeongguk perk up; his ears have literally perked up, no longer flat against his head in what Yoongi assumed as a show of fear, but flopping around on the sides of his head a bit, occasionally twitching upward—sometimes one at a time—to hear different sounds. There’s a hop in his step, too, energy buzzing off of him as he walks ahead of Yoongi sometimes, practically bouncing around, which is… interesting.

Yoongi can deal with the movement. What he can’t deal with is the fact that Jeongguk suddenly won’t shut up.

“But my favourite bedtime story is about this bunny named Peter Rabbit,” Jeongguk is saying, walking backwards in front of Yoongi as he excitedly tells his story—“‘Cause it’s about a bunny, you know? A lot of kids stories about bunnies, ‘cause they’re cute and innocent or something, I dunno, but it’s like reading a story about me. Except Peter Rabbit was naughty and didn’t listen to his mama so he got chased around a garden and—”

And Yoongi kind of stops listening even though Jeongguk keeps talking and talking. They’ve only been walking for twenty minutes, but already, Yoongi has learned about Jeongguk’s favourite outfits, his favourite colours, his favourite movies, now his favourite bedtimes stories, which his owners would read to their daughter, and because he was hers, he got to listen. Small joys.

It’s not that Yoongi doesn’t care, it’s just—Jeongguk has a nice voice. Kind of high-pitched, but musical, too, even when he gets excited, and Yoongi doesn’t mind listening. He just doesn’t care much about what the bunny is saying at the current moment.

At least until he realizes Jeongguk has stopped walking, but only because Yoongi walks right into him, their chests bumping together before he stumbles back.

“Yoongi-hyung,” says Jeongguk, and he doesn’t remember telling Jeongguk he could call him that—“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, kid, of course I am,” he says, already stepping around Jeongguk and continuing down the street. “You were talking about Peter Rabbit and a gardener.”

“That’s what I was talking about before,” says Jeongguk, a little exasperatedly, and then he’s right back to Yoongi’s side, nose twitching a little. As much as Yoongi thought Jeongguk was going to be hindrance, he kind of misses the silent, frightened bunny he was before. Must have been the fucking banana milk.

“Okay, sorry,” sighs Yoongi. “I’m really listening now.”

“Good, because now I wanna tell you about The Velveteen Rabbit.”

Yoongi groans inwardly. It’s going to be a long, long night.

Two hours—and a lot, a lot, a lot of stories—later, Jeongguk finally stops talking. Yoongi would take it as a blessing, except he’s only stopped talking because he’s too tired to keep going, ears drooping lazily down his back as he stumbles blearily behind Yoongi. He almost doesn’t realize it, too busy basking in the glorious silence, until he turns around and sees Jeongguk is a good fifteen feet behind him.

“Jeongguk,” he calls, halting his own steps. “Jeongguk-ah. C’mon.”

“Hyuuung,” whines Jeongguk, which is—a sound Yoongi probably could have gone his whole life without hearing, but only because it makes his chest feel funny. “M’so tired.”

“We have to keep going, Jeongguk-ah,” sighs Yoongi.

“Can’t we take a break?”

“We took a break like, twenty minutes ago.”

“Exactly,” says Jeongguk, lazily catching up to him finally and Yoongi turns around, but before he can start walking again, he feels Jeongguk plop his forehead on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Just wanna stop for five minutes.”

Yoongi sighs. “Jeongguk—”

“Please, hyung?” And now he’s wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s chest, drawing him closer, which is a little hard considering Yoongi is still wearing a backpack, but Jeongguk is insistent—“M’sleepy. Wanna sleep.”

And Yoongi—Yoongi’s chest is doing weird things, doesn’t like the warmth that blossoms in the pit of his stomach when Jeongguk nuzzles into the back of his neck. He’s been finding the kid annoying for the past two hours, although some of the stories were amusing. But—fuck, no. No. He can’t like Jeongguk, not when he’s still looking to pass him off to someone new at the first chance he gets.

So he shakes himself out of Jeongguk’s grip, turning to look at him. “We can sleep soon,” he promises. “Just a little bit longer, okay? I want to get further to the edge of the city. Besides, we have to find someone to sleep first.”

Jeongguk pouts something fierce, ears drooping at the sides of his head. Yoongi tells himself not to find it cute.

“Okay, Gukkie?” he asks, hoping that using a nickname will make Jeongguk more pliant, more agreeable. Then he remembers—“You told me you’d be good. And being good right now means not falling asleep in the middle of the street. Be a good bunny and walk with me, okay?”

Jeongguk seems to consider it, eyes going a little wide at the words before he lets out a small sigh. “Okay, hy—ung,” he mumbles, words broken by a tiny yawn. Then he’s stumbling forward another step and—taking Yoongi’s hand, threading their fingers together and hunching over a little so he’s pressed against Yoongi’s side again.

But he’s not trying to fall asleep, which Yoongi will take as a victory, albeit a small one. He still likes his personal space, but he finds he almost doesn’t mind the way Jeongguk holds his hand as they begin walking again. The streets are thankfully empty, nearing midnight now as Jeongguk yawns again and mumbles something about bedtime stories, and Yoongi resigns to the fact that maybe, maybe—

Maybe the bunny isn’t as terrible as Yoongi originally thought.

“Hyung, can we play twenty questions?” asks Jeongguk for the third time in as many minutes, and Yoongi does not turn to look at him, because he knows what he’ll see—big eyes, droopy ears. A pout. It’s been less than twenty-four hours and Jeongguk already knows it can work wonders on Yoongi, which is why Yoongi keeps his eyes firmly on the road as they walk.

“Guk-ah, just eat your chips,” he says, and he can practically hear the pout.

“But I wanna know more about you.”

“Well I don’t want you to know more about me.”

“I thought we were friends.”

Finally, Yoongi looks at Jeongguk (and feels his resolve crumble just a bit at the tiny frown on the hybrid’s lips). “We’re travelling partners for the moment,” he corrects the other. “If it wasn’t for the zombies, we wouldn’t know each other.”

Jeongguk considers this before saying, “Then it’s fate?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. He does, however, relent to playing twenty questions after Jeongguk asks three more times and starts tugging on the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweater; he does it, he tells himself, only because if he talks, then Jeongguk won’t talk—and it’s all the stupid bunny does. It’s midday and they’re finally reaching the outskirts of the city, having found a relatively safe house to sleep in for part of the night.

He had been hoping that not getting a full night’s sleep would leave Jeongguk somewhat subdued, but he’s still as bouncy as ever, constantly asking Yoongi questions and telling him stories. Yoongi tries his best not to feel any sort of endearment, which is easy when he just tunes Jeongguk out and thinks about other things—namely how he’s going to get to Seoul without a car and no food and where he’s going to find someone to pass Jeongguk off to.

In the middle of their third round of twenty questions (which, Yoongi reminds Jeongguk, technically counts as sixty questions and therefore breaks the whole point of the game), Jeongguk stops. His ears twitch upward, eyes going wide as he clearly listens for something, and Yoongi finds himself tensing; they haven’t come across many others since they started walking that morning, and definitely no one they had to run from, but he’s always ready just in case.

After listening for a few seconds, Jeongguk takes a step closer to him. “I think there’s someone in there,” he whispers, nodding toward a building to their right—Yoongi sees it’s a massive grocery store, which would actually be helpful for the two of them, too.

“What do they sound like?” he asks. Jeongguk’s ears twitch.

“Not like zombies,” says the hybrid. “And—not like the bad guys from yesterday.”

Yoongi considers going in—they need more food anyway, having nearly run out of everything except the banana milk Jeongguk got from the convenience store—but before they can move, the automatic doors of the store slide open to reveal a trio of people, bags of food and other supplies slung over their shoulders.

And—they look normal. Yoongi guesses they’re a family, a man and woman in their 30s with a girl that can’t be older than ten between them. The sight makes his chest tighten a little as he thinks about children. Abandoned children, abandoned hybrids. They don’t seem to be dangerous, the little girl talking animatedly as the three of them make their way into the parking lot.

The woman spots he and Jeongguk first, her footsteps coming to a halt as she stares at them from fifty feet away. Yoongi still hasn’t moved, and it’s strangely surreal—seeing other people like him, people who are just trying to get out of the city and survive. Yoongi almost forgot that there were other people trying to get out of the city and survive.

She turns to the man and Yoongi can’t hear what they say, just hears Jeongguk make a little noise beside him. “What are they saying?” asks Yoongi, turning his head to see that Jeongguk has moved even closer, practically pressed arm to arm with his ears still up and listening.

“They’re—um,” says Jeongguk. “They’re talking about whether or not they should talk to us.”

Yoongi decides to bite the bullet, noticing the way the little girl is staring at Jeongguk and—yes. This might be his chance to send Jeongguk off with someone who is willing to take care of him.

“Um, hello!” calls Yoongi, waving his hand at the trio, who all turn their heads toward him. “Hi, uh—I’m Yoongi. This is Jeongguk.” He turns to look at Jeongguk only to find the space beside him empty because Jeongguk is hiding behind him instead, hands curling into the back of Yoongi’s sweater. He can feel the heat of the hybrid’s body practically pressed against him, his head bent low so that his hair brushes against Yoongi’s neck.

One of his ears is sort of draped over Yoongi’s shoulder, and he’s—shaking.

Yoongi moves out of his hands behind him, finding Jeongguk’s hip and squeezing with reassurance before he waves at the little family again. “We’re just looking to get out of the city,” he says.

He sees the adults relax somewhat, must decide that they don’t have to be afraid of Yoongi and a bunny, for they begin making their way across the parking lot to them out on the street.

“So are we,” calls the man. “It’s a bit difficult with no mode of transportation.”

Yoongi finds himself chuckling, thumb absently rubbing circles in Jeongguk’s hip. “I guess that’s why we have legs,” he says, and—it feels weird to be joking about this.

The three of them finally reach Yoongi and Jeongguk, and Jeongguk presses a little closer to Yoongi. He’s shaking a bit, clearly shy and frightened of new people. Yoongi thinks about the annoying brat who wouldn’t stop asking him about dogs. And it’s—endearing, adorable, even, the way he’s clinging to Yoongi and hiding behind him despite being the taller of the two. He trusts Yoongi.

“I’m Doyoung,” says the man, offering Yoongi a small grin. “My wife, Jisu, and our daughter, Mina.” The little girl is already moving forward, eyes wide as she tries to get a look at Jeongguk.

“Is he a hybrid?” she asks, wide eyes staring up at Yoongi, and he feels Jeongguk press his face into the back of his neck, afraid, afraid.

“Yeah, he’s a bunny,” says Yoongi. “His name is Jeongguk. I think he’s a little shy, though.” Normally, he might not be so gentle with children, but if he’s planning on asking the three of them to take Jeongguk with them when they part ways, it’ll be a better idea to make them like him—both of them.

“Where are you two headed?” asks Jisu, reaching out to take hold of her daughter’s arm and pull her back.

“Seoul,” says Yoongi. “I heard it’s supposed to be safe there.”

“We heard that, too,” says Doyoung. “I don’t know if we can really trust that.”

“We can’t stay here, though,” says Yoongi. “Busan is already overrun and I heard that they’re on the move, so it’s only a matter of time before they get here, too. Seoul is at least north, so…” He shrugs.

“We’re heading that direction too,” says Jisu, then gestures to the bags on their backs. “It’s important to stay stocked with food and the like, though. There’s still a lot left there if you’re planning on grabbing some for yourself.”

They’re nice, Yoongi thinks. The little girl is still trying to get a look at Jeongguk, who is still cowering behind him. His fingers are twisted so tightly in Yoongi’s sweater that the material feels a little tight on his sides, but he’s still trying to calm down the bunny with his own touch, although it doesn’t seem to be doing much.

“Thanks,” says Yoongi, and then—they all kind of just stare at each other. Yoongi realizes that this is where he’s supposed to ask if the three of them have room for another. He’s supposed to hand Jeongguk off, like he said he would. That was the deal.

But then Jeongguk makes a little whining sound in the back of his throat, and one of his hands unclenches from Yoongi’s sweater. Instead, he grabs the hand that Yoongi is using to rub soothing circles into his hip, threading their fingers together in a sort of vice grip that almost makes Yoongi wince.

He thinks about—the previous night, when Jeongguk had asked for a bottle of banana milk from Yoongi’s backpack as he was settling down to sleep. He thinks about Jeongguk falling asleep on the sofa of some house they broke into, and Yoongi staying awake to keep watch; he’d been intending to check out the house a bit, grab some supplies, or do more than just sit there on the sofa beside Jeongguk, but then the hybrid had sat up a bit, blinked blearily at Yoongi, and then shifted until he could lay his head in Yoongi’s lap instead, ears flopping over the other end of the sofa. And Yoongi had just—sat there. For hours, at least until he woke Jeongguk up and they traded places so Yoongi could get some sleep.

He thinks about Jeongguk asking him sixty questions and looking enraptured with every answer. He thinks about Jeongguk excitedly telling him about Jihee, the little girl he had belonged to for six years before the evacuation started, about how she hated food that was coloured brown and always had to make sure that Jeongguk checked under the bed for monsters every night before she went to sleep.

Mostly, Yoongi thinks about this Jeongguk—the one holding his hand, the one hiding behind him because he’s not only shy but scared: scared of new people, of new situations. It’s been less than a day since he met Yoongi, but he’s comfortable with him. He’s made a home in him.

And Yoongi—Yoongi can’t take that from him.

(And maybe—maybe part of him just can’t let go of Jeongguk for selfish reasons, too, like the ones that tell him he actually likes Jeongguk more than he’s been letting himself believe, and he knows he’ll be lonely, lonely, lonely for the rest of his journey to Seoul if he goes alone, and he has all this fucking banana milk in his backpack so he can’t let someone else take Jeongguk or no one will drink it.)

So he tells the family that he and Jeongguk better head into the store to get food. He tells them that he hopes they get to wherever they’re going. Mina tries to get another look at Jeongguk as her parents pull her away and onward, and it’s only once they’re out of earshot that Yoongi turns around.

“Hey,” he says quietly, seeing the way Jeongguk is still curling into himself, still clinging to his hand. Yoongi uses his free hand to tilt the bunny’s face up, brush his ears to the side of his head. “They’re gone now. You don’t have to be scared.”

“I wasn’t scared,” whispers Jeongguk, but he’s pouting and his eyes are a little wet and he looks scared, although somewhat relieved as his eyes dart down the street to where the little family is still walking away.

Yoongi would tease him, but—he finds himself grinning instead, just a little. “Okay, bunny,” he says. “We should really get some food, though. I don’t know when we’ll find another stocked place like this.”

Jeongguk just nods and lets Yoongi tug him toward the store, not dropping their linked hands.

In the middle of cramming Yoongi’s backpack full of food, Jeongguk says, “I thought you were going to give me to the first people willing to take me.”

Yoongi, without bothering to look up from the shelf, replies, “So did I.”

He doesn’t comment on the little grin Jeongguk wears for the rest of the day, and definitely doesn’t comment on the fact that Jeongguk won’t let go of his hand. Not that he’s complaining.

Two days later, they stop for the night in some tiny town Yoongi hopes is at least a third of the way to Seoul. The thing is, he was right about Jeongguk slowing him down—but not while running away from danger. Jeongguk just complains every half an hour about having sore feet and needing to stop, and he’s always hungry even when they don’t have food, and he always needs to stop at every little town they come across to explore, no matter how Yoongi tells him off. If he were on his own, he would be in Seoul already, powering through the night just to keep walking. But Jeongguk—Jeongguk seems to care less about safety.

It’s hard to think they really are in danger when the roads and towns are deserted and they rarely come across others. When thy do, it’s groups of people like the two of them, wanting to stock up on food on the way to somewhere safer. Yoongi laments about it, but silently; he got himself into this situation and then chose to keep Jeongguk around even when he’s had multiple opportunities to leave him in the dust, and. And that’s just what he has to deal with.

Now he’s munching on a granola bar as he sits on the edge of the bed Jeongguk is currently sleeping in. They’ve been lucky enough to be able to sleep in real houses for the past few nights—there’s no one in them, anyway, and Yoongi feels no remorse about sending a rock flying through the windows so that they can get inside, eat what food is left behind, get a somewhat comfortable sleep, at least for a few hours.

Yoongi keeps watch for the first half of the night, although ghost towns and streets and highways means he’s stopped being on such high alert. He reminds himself, especially now, that there are still zombies somewhere out there—and they’re coming. Just… not yet. He doesn’t think it’ll really set in until he sees one, and even then, he hopes that never happens. They have to get to Seoul first.

A whimpering sound pulls his attention away from his food, and he looks over his shoulder to see Jeongguk curled into a little ball in the middle of the bed, face contorted in discomfort as he sleeps. Yoongi watches him for a moment, and when he’s about to return to the granola bar, Jeongguk whimpers again—louder, fear piercing through the sound as he lets out a whine and then rolls sideways. It takes a bit longer—more whimpering and thrashing and pain on the hybrid’s pretty face—for Yoongi to realize that Jeongguk is having a nightmare.

When Jeongguk lets out a terrified, “No!” Yoongi puts down the granola bar and clambers properly onto the bed, grabbing the bunny’s shaking form and pulling him up into his lap.

“Hey, Guk,” he says, shaking the hybrid a bit in an attempt to wake him up. “Guk-ah, wake up. Guk-ah!” With one last shake, Jeongguk’s eyes finally snap open, the flailing stopping as he lets out a few gasping breaths, turns his wide eyes to look at Yoongi and—immediately bursts into tears.

Unlike the first time Yoongi saw him crying, he’s less unsure of what to do—more worried, though, as he pulls Jeongguk fully into his lap and wraps him up in his arms, holding him tightly as he feels Jeongguk bury his face in Yoongi’s neck. He’s a loud crier, just like when Yoongi found him in the apartment, letting out hiccups and gasping breaths. And Yoongi is surprised at how he holds the hybrid, rubbing one of his hands up and down the boy’s back and murmuring soothing words. He’s surprised at how he doesn’t recoil instead, at how he isn’t worried about his clothes getting wet with Jeongguk’s tears.

He’s surprised at how there’s a little lump in his throat at the feel of Jeongguk’s arms finally winding around him, pressing himself further into Yoongi’s neck.

He doesn’t think about it.

“It was just a nightmare, Gukkie,” whispers Yoongi. “I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”

He feels Jeongguk nod into his neck, although it doesn’t do much to stop his crying. And Yoongi—is fine with it, surprisingly, continuing to rub circles into the hybrid’s back as he tries to calm him down. He slides one of his hands upward to the base of Jeongguk’s neck, squeezing it gently before he goes for his hair next.

Yoongi’s hand brushes against the base of one of Jeongguk’s ears and he feels the hybrid shudder into him, but—the hiccupping stops for a second. Experimentally, Yoongi tries it again, brushing his knuckles against Jeongguk’s ear with purpose, and the boy lets out a little whine into his neck, but it’s a good sort of whine, one that asks for more.

“You like that?” asks Yoongi quietly, noting how the crying has quieted, and then Jeongguk nods into his neck.

“Feels good,” he mumbles, and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle a little as he begins rubbing at the base of Jeongguk’s ears. He smooths one hand down the long, long ear, begins petting him, really, and Jeongguk lets out a sigh into the crook of Yoongi’s neck—of contentment. He sniffles again.

Then Jeongguk is snuggling closer, keeping his face pressed to Yoongi’s skin, but he isn’t clinging so much anymore—isn’t shaking, either, isn’t crying, just letting out little puffs of air every time Yoongi brushes his hand over his ears.

They sit like that for a while, Yoongi petting Jeongguk’s ears to calm him, and he thinks that the hybrid may have fallen asleep on him when he hears the boy mumble, “You’re so nice, hyung.”

Yoongi chuckles. “Only to you, Guk-ah,” he says, and then—“Are you feeling better now?”

Jeongguk nods, finally pulling his face out of Yoongi’s neck so he can sit back and look at him. Jeongguk’s face is red and blotchy, eyes still a little wet, and Yoongi removes one of his hands from the boy’s ears so he can wipe at his cheeks.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” asks Yoongi.

Immediately, Jeongguk tips himself forward again, returning his head to its original position like he’s hiding from Yoongi. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead grabbing Yoongi’s hand with his own and returning it to the top of his head in a clear attempt to make Yoongi start petting his ears again—which he does.

“I used to get nightmares a lot when I was at the adoption center,” he says quietly, and Yoongi hums to show he’s listening. “I don’t really—remember a lot of stuff from before that. The center, I mean. They said I got there when I was really young. I don’t remember what the nightmares were about, either. Just that they were scary and I used to—to wet myself because of them.” He sniffles again, presses closer, closer to Yoongi in embarrassment, and Yoongi just rubs the base of his ears again to keep him calm. “That’s why the first family sent me back,” he adds. “And the second. The third one didn’t like me because I was scared of their dog.”

Yoongi tries to think about Jeongguk being rejected again and again, finding a family who wanted him and then always turning back up at the adoption center because the family didn’t really want him, not if he had nightmares and wet himself, not if he couldn’t deal with dogs. Yoongi turns his face a little and presses a kiss to the top of Jeongguk’s head, just feels like it’s right.

“The fourth one was the Kims,” says Jeongguk. “I was there for six years and then—” He sniffs a little. “They didn’t care about the nightmares. Jihee had nightmares, too.” Yoongi knows that Jeongguk loved Jihee—loved all of the Kims, even though they left him behind. And it’s not fair, and it’s not right, but there’s something about this sort of end times feeling that leaves people hardened and cold.

Yoongi realizes he was one of those people at first—or expected that he would be, before he started liking Jeongguk more than he should have. It’s not what was supposed to happen. Somewhere over the past three days, he’s come to like Jeongguk—properly, in a way that makes him want to protect Jeongguk and take care of him, in a way that makes him want to do more.

“I’m sorry, baby,” whispers Yoongi.

“It’s okay,” murmurs Jeongguk.

“They shouldn’t have left you.”

Jeongguk is silent for a few seconds, and then—“But then I wouldn’t have met you.”

It makes something warm bloom in Yoongi’s chest, something slow and steady and—oh, he thinks. Oh, he gets it.

“What was it about this time?” he asks gently.

Jeongguk nuzzles a little into his neck, silent for a moment—“They hurt you,” he whispers.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. They just—they were trying to t-take you—” And Yoongi can tell he’s getting upset again, voice going a little high and breaking, so he smooths his hand down the boy’s ear as he says, “It’s okay, Gukkie, you don’t have to tell me.”

Jeongguk nods again.

“And you don’t have to worry about anyone hurting me,” he adds. “No one is going to take me away, okay? I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

And it’s strange, he thinks, how it became this so quickly—he’s known Jeongguk for three days, but it feels much longer. He knows the hybrid like the back of his hand already, knows what every twitch and movement of his ears means, knows that banana milk is his favourite drink because it was Jihee’s favourite drink, too. Knows now, too, that petting his ears calms him down, knows that sometimes he just needs the safety of being held and loved and reassured that someone is there.

Yoongi thinks—he’s not doing this because he has to. He wants to survive, but as Jeongguk makes a breathy little noise and rubs his nose into the side of Yoongi’s neck, he thinks—it’s more. It’s so much more now, suddenly, when he has Jeongguk.

//

Yoongi doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he wakes again, eyes snapping open suddenly at the sound of—something. In the first moments between sleeping and waking, it’s the last thing on his mind, and he instead focuses on the body tangled up with his. Jeongguk’s face is still pressed into his neck, one ear trapped between them and the other flopping over top of his head. Yoongi blinks.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, knowing that it’s dangerous not to have someone keeping watch, but as he glances around the room, he sees that it’s daylight already. Which is—shit, too, because they’ve lost time they could be using to get to Seoul. Still, he lets his head fall back against the pillow again for a moment, lets himself fully wake up.

He doesn’t get time to relax, though, when he hears a loud thumping noise from outside, just on the other side of the bedroom wall. Yoongi is immediately on high alert, tension flooding through him as he slowly untangles himself from Jeongguk and gets out of the bed before heading for the window.

There’s another thump, sounds like someone is banging against the side of the house, and Yoongi holds his breath as he makes it to the window and moves one of the window shades upward to peek outside—

All he sees is a person covered in blood before he jerks backward, panic already filling him as he turns to the bed. “Guk-ah,” he says, voice tight, and he’s moving now, gathering what few supplies they have left, hiking the backpack onto his shoulder and grabbing the bat and shaking Jeongguk—“Guk-ah, we need to leave.”

Jeongguk makes a noise of protest, turning further into the pillow, and—fuck. Fuck. “Jeongguk, I’m serious,” says Yoongi, grabbing the hybrid’s arm and physically pulling him off the bed as there’s another thump—“Jeongguk, now!” The hybrid finally wakes, at least enough to not fall on the floor when Yoongi tugs him out of bed, and then he’s stumbling after Yoongi as the elder pulls him through the house.

“What’s going on?” asks Jeongguk sleepily, nearly tripping.

Yoongi doesn’t answer, just moves them along the walls until they get to the living room and he peers out of the window. “Fuck,” he says, hurrying to pull Jeongguk toward the door. “Fuck, fuck—”

“Hyung,” whines Jeongguk, rubbing at his sleepy eyes, and Yoongi finally turns to look at him.

“Zombies, Guk-ah,” he says. “There are zombies outside.”

He sees the moment it really registers with Jeongguk, the way he’s glassy eyes go wide, the startled sort of fear that passes over his face. And Yoongi—can’t let him cry. “It’s fine, though, we’re going to stay here until they leave,” he says, keeping Jeongguk near the door and trying to peer through the nearest window without being seen himself. He has no idea how clever these zombies are, has no idea if they can break into the house to get to them, but he can’t risk it.

And Jeongguk starts blabbering a bit, already on the verge of tears, but Yoongi can’t deal with that. “Please, Jeongguk, you need to keep quiet,” he says, not even looking at the hybrid as he creeps toward the nearest window. He peeks out of it, catching sight of—one, two bodies in the front yard. It’s the first time Yoongi really gets a look at them, and he feels sick to his stomach instantly.

They’re… human, is the thing. Their clothes are stained with blood, as well as some of their skin; he can see the blood on their faces, on their mouths, and it’s clear that they haven’t been zombies for long because there’s a remarkable lack of decomposition. They just look like—people who decided to eat people.

Another one comes clambering around the side of the building to join the other two, and—fuck. Yoongi ducks his head, trying to figure out how they know. Can they smell he and Jeongguk? Are they going to get into the house, somehow? Jeongguk is a fast runner thanks to his bunny genes, but Yoongi doesn’t know if he can make it and Taehyung’s stupid bat might not do much against three zombies.

And then he hears Jeongguk’s whimper. He turns to see the hybrid on the ground, knees pulled into his chest in a remarkably similar position to how he had been when Yoongi first found him. That time, he’d been curious, somewhat annoyed to find the hybrid.

This time, Yoongi’s entire heart lodges itself in his throat. They have to survive. And he, more than anything, has to protect Jeongguk.

Yoongi creeps back toward the bunny. “Guk,” he says once he reaches him, already smoothing a hand down one of the hybrid’s ear. “Hey, Guk-ah, it’s okay. They can’t stay here forever. We’ll just—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before the living room window smashes.

Jeongguk screams.

Yoongi is up in an instant, turning to see a massive rock rolling into the room from where it’s been thrown through the window and—one of the zombies is already climbing in through the window, and how did they fucking know they were there—

He doesn’t bother to wait for the zombie to see him before he’s turning again, reaching down to wrench Jeongguk up and then kicks open the door. The other zombies are there, fucking waiting, and Yoongi panics, turns back into the house and drags Jeongguk with him. He can hear Jeongguk crying already, heart pounding harder, harder as he runs and he doesn’t know where he’s going but he can hear them behind them—disgusting gurgling sounds, a sort of grunting and groaning, like animals, like beasts.

But they’re smart, he knows. They broke through the damn window and now Yoongi heads for the stairs, has never felt such fear before as the footsteps echo behind them and Jeongguk is crying—

He has to protect him. He has to protect Jeongguk because, as he turns over his shoulder to see the zombies running after them, Yoongi realizes that this has never just been about survival. It isn’t anymore; he chose to keep Jeongguk with him because he wanted him with him, and he won’t let it end here.

So he races up the stairs, makes sure Jeongguk is up too before he shoves the hybrid toward the bedroom. “Lock yourself in!” he shouts, not giving Jeongguk a chance to respond before he turns around and swings at the first zombie that has reached the top of the stairs as well.

The bat connects with the zombie’s jaw, the adrenaline coursing through Yoongi’s veins causing the swing to be much harder than he could have anticipated; the bottom half of the zombie’s jaw comes unhinged, a few teeth spattering onto the ground, but it doesn’t stop the thing and Yoongi winds up again, ready to give it another swing—but another zombie reaches the top of the stairs, too, clambering over the first one and lunging for Yoongi.

“Fuck!” he yells, swinging for that one instead, but it doesn’t connect properly and the zombie gets a hand around Yoongi’s wrist. “Let—go, you fucking—” He can’t get out of its grip, and this close—this close, he can see that the zombie isn’t human at all. Its eyes are completely white, blood marring its features and its skin a ghastly grey colour. It growls at him, mouth open wide as it tries to get to him and Yoongi is panicking, he can’t get his hand out of its grip and he can hear the other ones, they’re coming, they’re coming.

He lets out a yelp as he tips backward, the zombie landing on top of him and crushing his wrist in its grip, and Yoongi struggles under it, yelling again and squeezing his eyes shut as it leans down to bite him—

But he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel anything, as the weight of the zombie is suddenly lifted off of him. The grip on his wrist is still there but when he next opens his eyes, all he sees is the zombie’s hand, wrist, and forearm just—hanging off of his arm, the rest of its body quite literally having been ripped away.

Yoongi looks up to see—Jeongguk. He’s not a docile, shy bunny anymore, but something more… animal. Something rabid, and as Yoongi watches, Jeongguk rips one of the zombie’s head clean off of its body. The zombie slumps, dead properly now, as Jeongguk uses its head as a weapon against one of the others, then kicks it in the chest to send it flying down the stairs.

Yoongi doesn’t realize all of the growling is coming from Jeongguk this time, as the hybrid throws himself down the stairs after the two other zombies. And Yoongi just… sits there, dazed. He can’t stop hearing it, though—the sounds of limbs being torn apart, bodies hitting the ground, shouts that sort more human than zombie, so he knows they’re coming from Jeongguk. He sounds—terrifying. He sounds like a beast himself, and Yoongi thinks he hears his own name before the last thump of a body hits the ground and there’s—silence.

After a few seconds, Jeongguk appears at the top of the stairs. There’s blood all over his hands and clothing, even on his face. He’s breathing hard, staring down at Yoongi, who hasn’t moved. He can’t move. All he can do is stare, trying to comprehend how—he almost died, how Jeongguk might not be just a bunny, how his ears are splattered with blood but it’s all dark, and he doesn’t look hurt.

“What the fuck,” whispers Yoongi, and then finally remembers the zombie hand that is still attached to his wrist. He detaches it from himself and tosses it sideways, finally pulling himself to his feet with shaky arms, shaky legs. Jeongguk is still staring at him.

Then—“How did you do that?” Yoongi asks quietly, heart still pounding loud and loud in his ears.

“I don’t know,” rasps Jeongguk. He doesn’t look like the same bunny he’s been for days, and not only because he’s covered in blood—there’s something in his eyes now, something dark. Something that Yoongi feels he ought to be afraid of, but it’s not fear that stirs in the pit of his stomach.

Yoongi moves forward, past Jeongguk and over the body of the first zombie. There, at the bottom of the stairs, are the bodies of the other two—they’re a pile of mangled mess, missing limbs and snapped necks and, if he looks hard enough, he thinks he can see one of them has had its heart torn out. Jeongguk did that.

Turning his head to look at the hybrid standing beside him, Yoongi realizes that perhaps he’s supposed to turn and run. But. He almost died. He almost died and then Jeongguk saved him, Jeongguk protected him.

So Yoongi turns to face Jeongguk properly. He reaches out to fist his hand into Jeongguk’s shirt, tugs him forward, and kisses him.

The first thing Yoongi registers, after the little noise of surprise that Jeongguk makes, is that the hybrid tastes like—blood. He doesn’t stop to wonder why, just tugs him even closer, wraps both of his arms around Jeongguk’s neck and tilts his head.

And finally, Jeongguk kisses him back. It’s wet and messy and desperate, lips sliding against each other as Jeongguk opens his mouth and gives Yoongi access. He takes it, takes what he wants and needs, pushing all of the pent up tension into the kiss as he presses harder, harder. It’s going to bruise. He hopes it does.

Jeongguk makes another noise into his mouth, one that Yoongi swallows, and he nips at the hybrid’s bottom lip. ”Hyung,” he hears, something breathy as Jeongguk tries to pull back but—Yoongi doesn’t want that, doesn’t want him to leave so he follows him, attaching their lips again as Jeongguk stumbles backward. He hits the wall, jarring Yoongi, who just tugs him down a bit and slides his hands into Jeongguk’s hair and it’s—not enough.

Yoongi finally relents, pressing another kiss to his lips before moving downward, dragging his lips over Jeongguk’s jaw before he reaches his throat. There’s more blood there, and it’s metallic in Yoongi’s mouth but he doesn’t care, almost likes the way it tastes; likes the way Jeongguk groans more, though, when he latches onto the side of the hybrid’s neck and starts sucking there.

“Hyung,” pants Jeongguk, his own hands winding into Yoongi’s hair, and Yoongi’s hands find his waist and he pushes him into the wall, needs something more, more—

“Hyung,” and finally, Yoongi pulls back after leaving another kiss to the spot on Jeongguk’s neck—already dark, already marked as his, his, his.

“Yeah?” he asks, leaning up to plant another harsh kiss on Jeongguk’s lips, and he doesn’t miss the way Jeongguk chases after it for a moment before pulling himself back; his lips are spit-slick and swollen, eyes a little hazy as he stares down at Yoongi, and it’s—good. This is good.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk breathes, and Yoongi just kisses him again, again, drags his tongue over the seam of the hybrid’s mouth.

“You’re so—” replies Yoongi—“hot, Jesus, fuck.”

“I just killed a bunch of zombies,” says Jeongguk, and Yoongi doesn’t like all the talking.

“I know,” he says, kissing him again. “It was really hot.”

And Jeongguk—laughs, a little, which quickly turns to a groan when Yoongi nips at the sharp edge of his jaw. And then—“Oh,” he says suddenly, head thumping as he lets it fall back against the wall.

“What?” asks Yoongi, breath coming a little easier now as he presses kisses to the underside of Jeongguk’s jaw. He doesn’t feel so desperate anymore, but there’s something pent up inside of up and he can’t deny the tightness of his jeans.

“I think—” begins Jeongguk, whining a little, and then Yoongi looks down.

Oh, indeed.

The smirk on Yoongi’s lips is wide as he moves one of his hands down, down until he can press it against the bulge in Jeongguk’s jeans, spurred on by the sound Jeongguk makes. “Have you ever had a handjob before, Gukkie?” he asks, and Jeongguk’s face flushes with embarrassment, one of his hands grabbing an ear and flopping it over his face so he can hide behind it.

“N-No,” he stutters out. “Not from someone else.”

Yoongi almost giggles, standing on his toes to give Jeongguk a peck on the lips. “Cutie,” he says.

“Hyung,” says Jeongguk. “You know we’re kind of standing in the zombie’s blood.”

Yoongi looks down, sees that they are, and he just squeezes Jeongguk’s clothed cock to make him whine again. “Do you have a problem with that?” he asks.

“It’s just,” he lowers his ear enough to peek at Yoongi. “It’s kind of weird?”

“I think it’s hot,” says Yoongi, rubbing his hand a bit to give Jeongguk more friction. “You just ripped apart three zombies to save my life.”

“Why are you—ah,” Jeongguk hisses as Yoongi undoes his button and zipper and sticks his hand into his boxes in one go. “Why are you t-turned on by that?”

Yoongi doesn’t try to think about it—doesn’t try to think about the danger, the risk, just lets the adrenaline of almost dying spur on him as he attaches his lips to Jeongguk’s neck again once he gets his hand around the hybrid’s cock.

“You’re not the cute little bunny I thought you were,” he says once he’s sucked another mark into the hybrid’s neck, pulling back to look at Jeongguk’s face; his eyes are squeezed shut, face a little pinched as Yoongi pulls his cock out of his boxers. “I thought you were shy and scared and docile. Turns out you’re a lot more than that.”

Jeongguk whines again, high in his throat, and Yoongi is too enthralled with the image of it—the hybrid all flushed like this, ears twitching as Yoongi collects the bead of pre-come at the tip of his cock and uses it to help the slide of his hand. He goes slowly at first, working up a steady rhythm and twisting his wrist once in a while as he watches Jeongguk’s reaction to it.

“I’ve always wondered,” says Yoongi casually, "how this works with hybrids.”

“How—how what works?” asks Jeongguk breathlessly, keening when Yoongi presses his thumb into the slit of his cock.

“Fucking,” he says. “I mean, you’re part animal.” It feels strange to be having this conversation now, but he speeds his hand up a bit, presses a kiss to the side of Jeongguk’s mouth again as he keeps talking. “How does that work?”

“Why didn’t you—fuck,” Jeongguk bangs his head against the wall. “Why didn’t you ever Google it?”

“I wasn’t that interested, baby,” he muses. “Besides, you can just tell me.”

Jeongguk doesn’t look fit to answer it, though, face flushed as Yoongi keeps his hips pressed into the wall. He works his hand over the hybrid’s cock faster, faster, twisting his wrist and drawing out moans with every movement. He doubts Jeongguk will last very long, not if the only real experience he’s had is with his own hand.

“I’m gonna—” begins Jeongguk as if on cue, and Yoongi removes his hand entirely. “Hyung,” comes the responding whine.

“Tell me,” says Yoongi, returning his hand to Jeongguk’s cock but just… holding it. “Have you ever fingered yourself, Guk-ah? Ever tried to see how many of those long fingers of yours you can get in your little hole? Did it feel good?”

Jeongguk shudders, his entire body moving with it, and he’s panting, too, all wired and wanting. Yoongi kind of wants to see him cry.

“Hm?” he asks. “Did you, Gukkie? Bunnies produce slick, don’t they? You don’t even need to be prepared, just get yourself a little worked up and slip your fingers right in.” Jeongguk whines again, something a little broken with his eyes shut tight, and Yoongi finally relents—but just a little, just a slow slide of his hand over Jeongguk’s cock.

“Y-Yeah,” Jeongguk finally whispers, grabbing an ear to hide behind again.

“Did it feel good, baby?”

Jeongguk just nods, cheeks a flaming red, and Yoongi—Yoongi shouldn’t enjoy this so much. But he’s too worked up himself, the adrenaline and desperation still clawing through him as he picks up the speed of his hand again. He can’t go back from this anyway, but he likes the way Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling, the way he’s trying to buck his hips into Yoongi’s hand—and he lets him. He’s taking care of Jeongguk, so this can be taking care of him too.

“Please,” whispers Jeongguk, and Yoongi uses his free hand to pull Jeongguk’s hand and ear away from his face, wants to see what he looks like when he comes undone—

“Please what?” he asks.

The hybrid whines. “Stop being so mean,” he whimpers, eyes finally opening so he can look at Yoongi. They’re a little wet, and the sight spurs Yoongi on to kiss him again, to crook his wrist just right before he whispers, “Come for me, baby.”

It only takes one, two, three more tugs of Yoongi’s hand for Jeongguk to come, a high-pitched whine drawn from his lips as he spills all over Yoongi’s hand. As Yoongi kisses him, praises him, strokes his ears, and it just makes Jeongguk shudder even more. He likes the blissed out look on his face, the way he comes down from it enough to open his eyes again, and give Yoongi—a bunny-toothed smile.

And then—“It kinda smells,” says Jeongguk, wrinkling his nose as he peers over Yoongi’s shoulder at the decapitated zombie still lying on the floor beside them. Yoongi follows his gaze, somehow only remembering then that they’re standing in a house of dead zombies, and… he just made Jeongguk come all over his own stomach because of that.

Yoongi chuckles, lets his head fall against Jeongguk’s chest before he jerks himself off too, just to get it over with. He cares more about taking care of Jeongguk, at least, as the boy moves his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. There’s—something now, something more. Yoongi comes with a groan of Jeongguk’s name, and then he can’t stop laughing at how ridiculous it all is.

They wash up, glad the water hasn’t been turned off yet, although there isn’t much they do about the blood on their clothing. Yoongi teases Jeongguk about it all as he scrubs at his ears to get the blood out, and Jeongguk blushes, and that is cute; it’s hard to reconcile it, he thinks, the bunny he’s gotten to know and the rabid beast that quite literally ripped three zombies apart in front of him

He’s grateful for it, though. He would have died otherwise.

They leave the bodies there, holding hands as they step out of the house and see there are no other zombies, at least in their vicinity. It’s a blessing, something that Yoongi isn’t going to question, and they take off for the next town, moving ever closer to safety.

They walk and walk, hours turning to days. Yoongi has almost lost track of when they started, only knowing that their slow pace has given the zombies from Busan more than enough time to catch up. This far from Daegu, the towns and streets are less deserted. They run into other survivors sometimes, but they run into zombies more often. Now they have to be careful, and Jeongguk doesn’t ask him to play twenty questions, and they hide out in buildings with eyes wide open. Their pace slows, knowing that they can’t be out in the open as much anymore; every second is another second in which they could be found. In which they could die.

But every second, too, is another second in which Jeongguk becomes Yoongi’s lifeline. At the beginning of this all, he’d been convinced that it would be he who had to protect Jeongguk, make sure that the bunny didn’t wander off and get eaten on his own. And while he still worries about the hybrid, he knows that Jeongguk can protect himself. He knows that the bunny’s company is enough to keep Yoongi from going insane.

There are moments where Yoongi thinks he likes Jeongguk too much; now that he’s let the floodgate down, let himself realize that the bunny might be more than just someone to travel with, he can’t stop seeing it—all the ways it could have worked out, maybe, if the zombies hadn’t shown up. If they weren’t running for their lives, constantly, just trying to get to Seoul even though it seems impossible now that they’re always in the middle of a warzone.

But Jeongguk—Jeongguk likes playing hide and seek sometimes, but he forgets that his ears always stick up when he’s excited, so Yoongi can always find him when he thinks he’s hiding well enough. Jeongguk likes his banana milk, so Yoongi always makes sure to find some, even if it takes raiding four different grocery stores until he gets what he wants. Jeongguk likes to sleep with his head in Yoongi’s lap, sings quietly to himself when he’s the one on watch, plays with Yoongi’s fingers when they’re walking because it keeps him calm.

Jeongguk kisses him, sometimes, when he wakes up or before he falls asleep, and he’s always a little shy about it, cheeks a rosy pink and eyes shining. It makes Yoongi’s heart ache.

Somehow, he never stops being happy—they’re running from zombies. They have to kill them at least once a day, sometimes more, and Jeongguk is always smiling, always finding something else to make Yoongi smile about, too.

Even now, as Yoongi watches the setting sun and redoubles his efforts to find a safe space to sleep for the night, Jeongguk is beside him, talking about—Jihee. He’s always talking about Jihee.

He’s in the middle of (re)telling the story about the time Jihee got in trouble for eating all of the cookies her mother had made for a bake sale (although it had actually been Jeongguk who had eaten all of them) when the hybrid suddenly gasps and stops walking, reaching out to snag a hand in Yoongi’s sleeve to get him to stop walking, too.

“Hyung!” says the bunny excitedly. “Can we stay there?” He points to a building down the street, and if Yoongi strains, he can see… it’s a hotel. He thinks about travellers, thinks about people who couldn’t get out before it was raided, and he thinks about walking into an infestation of zombies, but the way Jeongguk’s looking at him, with wide, excited eyes—Yoongi already knows he’s going to give in.

Jeongguk bounces a little on his feet. “Please, hyung, please?” he begs, and Yoongi holds up a hand before the hybrid can start pouting.

“We do a sweep of the ground floor, and if there are no zombies… sure,” he says, to which Jeongguk’s ears perk up excitedly and he leans over to plant a wet kiss on Yoongi’s cheek. Then he’s off running toward the hotel, and Yoongi has no choice but to follow him.

Luckily, all of the lights are still on in the hotel; he tries to imagine everyone hurrying out, leaving their belongings behind. There will be food, he thinks, and other clothes that they can steal, so perhaps a hotel isn’t the worst idea. He’s gotten sick of breaking into houses and discovering the sort of messes people left behind—or discovering that people didn’t leave and have instead been killed or turned into zombies in their own homes. A hotel is less personal. He’ll feel better sleeping in a bed that didn’t actually belong to anyone.

He and Jeongguk move silently through the hotel, checking the reception area, lounge areas, conference rooms. Everything is silent, empty. Part of Yoongi hopes they find just one zombie so they’re forced to leave, but once they check the last room and there isn’t even a drop of blood, Jeongguk turns to him with that hopeful, excited smile. So Yoongi nods.

“Yeah, we can stay,” he says, and the hug he gets quells his fears—somewhat.

With a hotel to themselves, Yoongi imagines they’ll find a room to sleep in and stay there. He wonders if the televisions will still work, if he can find some news channel that is reporting about what’s happening to let him know; it’s been at least a week since they left Daegu, and sometimes—he wonders if Seoul is even safe anymore. If they’re heading to a promise land that will be burned to the ground by the time they get there.

He doesn’t have time to worry about it when Jeongguk excitedly drags him to the swimming pool and declares that he’s going to swim; it’s a strange thing to do in the middle of a zombie outbreak, but Yoongi can’t deny him.

Yoongi sits at the edge of the pool and watches as Jeongguk splashes around in his boxers, snorting every time he sees how funny his ears look when they’re waterlogged and drooping at the sides of his head. Jeongguk’s tail is still cute, though, a puffy little thing on his backside, and his body is kind of ridiculous for an actual bunny, muscles defined and chest broad, although his waist is tiny and—no. Now is not the time.

“Aren’t you going to swim, hyung?” Jeongguk asks him as he doggy paddles closer to the edge of the pool.

“Uh, no,” says Yoongi. “I don’t swim.”

“Why not? Is it cause you don’t want to take your clothes off and admit that you’re pasty and look like a marshmallow compared to me?”

Yoongi scoffs. “It’s not my fault that you’re not as pudgy as real bunnies are,” he replies.

“It’s not my fault you sat on your ass all day before this.”

Ah, yes. He remembers that Jeongguk can be a brat, too, especially when he’s comfortable and trusting and warm. He paddles a little closer to the edge, grabbing it with both hands and staring up at Yoongi.

“I’m not swimming,” says Yoongi when he sees the pleading in Jeongguk’s eyes. “I don’t want to get wet and I just… don’t like it.”

Jeongguk pouts. “But hyung—”

“Jeongguk, no.”

The hybrid levels him with another pleading look, and then when Yoongi doesn’t relent, he pushes off of the wall and swims backwards a bit. Yoongi is satisfied with that, certain that he’ll let it go and instead try diving off the diving board or something. Of course, he’s wrong—one moment Yoongi is taking the opportunity to look out of the massive windows that lead out into the dark street, and the next there’s a wet hand wrapping around his wrist, wrenching him forward.

With a yelp, Yoongi topples forward, but he catches himself at the last second and tries to pull his hand out of Jeongguk’s grip. “Let go of me!” he shrieks, but Jeongguk is cackling and then grabs onto him with his other hand, and—Yoongi is reminded of the hybrid who can easily tear a zombie apart just because he wants to, just because he has the adrenaline and the need, and Jeongguk is right, after all: Yoongi did sit on his ass all day before he was forced to evacuate.

With one hard tug, Jeongguk pulls Yoongi into the water; he lands with a splash, headfirst and it’s fucking cold, and he’s wearing all of his clothes—he flails around in the water for a moment until he’s finally able to come up for air. Gasping, he gets the water out of his eyes before rounding on Jeongguk, who is already halfway across the pool and giggling.

“Jeongguk!” yells Yoongi, trying his best to swim over, but—the real reason he didn’t want to get in the water is because he actually can’t swim, although he knows enough to doggy paddle his way toward the hybrid. “I’m going to beat your ass!”

The hybrid’s laugh fills the pool, the room, Yoongi’s ears and mind and heart—“That’s if you can catch me first, hyung!”

Yoongi finally gets to the part of the pool that is shallow enough for him to stand in and then he’s moving faster, chasing after Jeongguk. “You got my clothes wet,” he protests.

“You needed a shower, hyung,” says Jeongguk, and Yoongi finally backs him into a corner; he shrieks, trying to bat Yoongi away by splashing at him, but the elder is having none of it, instead reaching out and getting a hold of him so he can dunk the hybrid under the water.

There’s a lot of shrieking and laughing and Jeongguk’s massive, wet ears smacking Yoongi in the face, and it’s a fight, of sorts, but—Yoongi, despite being dumped in the pool in his clothes and not actually knowing how to swim, finds that he enjoys it. He’s laughing, happy, and for those minutes in the pool, he almost forgets about the zombies.

After, when Yoongi is content with the revenge he’s gotten on the hybrid and Jeongguk begins to get too cold from the water, they dry off and raid the vending machines on the ground floor. None of it is healthy food, but it’ll have to do for now; Yoongi promises they’ll find a grocery store or something similar when they head out the next day, some place that hopefully has banana milk, but the snacks are enough to satisfy the both of them for the night.

“Can we go to the top floor?” asks Jeongguk as they pile into the elevator, arms and backpack full of food. Yoongi glances at the buttons, sees that there are twelve floors, and—that might be a little high, especially if something happens that means they have to escape.

“What about four?” he asks, reasoning that it’s not too many stairs to run down. Jeongguk pouts a bit, but Yoongi pinches his side and the hybrid agrees.

As he presses the button for the fourth floor, he turns to Jeongguk again. “We’ll have to raid some of the rooms to see if anyone left suitcases behind,” he says, then runs a hand through his wet hair. “And blow dryers, maybe. But I’m seriously not sleeping in these wet clothes.”

Jeongguk giggles when he says, “Then sleep naked,” and—it’s surprisingly forward, although Yoongi just looks at him incredulously for a moment before he giggles.

He looks up at the little numbers above the door moving from two to three to—“Wait,” says Jeongguk suddenly, ears standing up on his forehead as he stares at the door. “Wait, hyung, I think—”

The light flashes four. The elevator dings.

The doors open.

Jeongguk gasps at the same time as Yoongi’s hand goes for the close door button, rapidly pressing it in panic as he sees four, five, six zombies in the hallway turn toward them at the sound. “Fucking—” Yoongi swears, hitting the button harder and the zombies are coming and why won’t the door close—

“Hyung!” Jeongguk shouts as the zombies take off toward them, and he’s panicking, hitting the button, and they’re getting closer.

These zombies are old, he’s able to note—they’re slower, skin peeling off and body parts beginning to decompose faster, but there’s a horrible roar that one of them lets out as the door finally, finally begins to close—but not fast enough.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shouts as he finally lets go of the button, one of the zombies nearly at the elevator, and he turns to grab his bat when he realizes—he doesn’t have it. He doesn’t have their weapon.

The zombie lunges for the door when it’s halfway closed and Yoongi panics and throws his backpack at it, which does enough to deter the zombie from getting into the elevator as the door shuts.

Yoongi stares at the door, breathing hard. He hears Jeongguk beside him, already gasping with fear.

“We shouldn’t be here,” says Yoongi, turning to the elevator buttons, but—it’s been hours since they arrived, which meant it’s well into the night. It’s more dangerous to be outside and looking for a new place right now, in the dark, without any way to know for sure if zombies are on their tails. There are zombies here, and he doesn’t know on how many floors, and he doesn’t have his fucking bat, but they have to stay.

They have to stay.

He feels Jeongguk’s hand in the crook of his elbow, the same place he always holds when he’s afraid. “Try the next floor,” he says quietly, and Yoongi knows he’s right. They have to try the next floor. If the zombies haven’t been able to get off of the floors they were originally on, that means they can’t use the elevators—don’t understand how to use the stairs, maybe, just because they’ve been zombies for so long that they don’t have any human knowledge left.

Yoongi feels himself shaking as he presses the button for the fifth floor. He hasn’t been this afraid of the zombies since they met their first group, and he knows it’s because he has nothing to protect himself with. But they’ll have to make do.

The light above the door flashes to five. The elevator dings.

The doors open.

The hallway is… empty. Yoongi is hesitant, peering out of it for a moment, and when he sees no zombies waiting on either side of the door, he takes a step out. He’s still shaking, but he has to hope that this is the right floor as he hears the elevator close behind them. He swallows tightly, knowing they’ll need to check every room—the ones that are open anyway.

They’re silent as they move down the hallway until they reach the first door that is slightly ajar, and Yoongi looks over his shoulder at Jeongguk, who nods. He understands what must happen if they do come across a zombie, and then Yoongi slowly opens the door. There’s—nothing. No one.

Yoongi’s fear begins to dissipate as they move through the hallway, checking every door that is open, but all of the rooms are empty. He’s glad that they won’t have to worry about zombies and, he supposes, also glad that the people who were staying in the hotels got out safe, but he cares less about them than he does himself.

When they reach the last room, Yoongi pushes the door open slowly. It’s dark, and he doesn’t notice the way Jeongguk bristles behind him as he searches for the light. The moment he turns it on, though, he hears the, “No!” from behind him, and he doesn’t have time to register the zombie that stands not five feet from him before Jeongguk is tackling him to the ground.

He lands with a cry, panic spiking again when the zombie roars from above them and Jeongguk is on his feet again, already trying to fight it. And Yoongi knows he can take it, knows he can do it, but—but he still pulls himself to his feet in time to see the zombie’s hand collide with Jeongguk’s face, sending him sprawling sideways.

“Fuck no,” Yoongi growls before he runs at the beast himself, knowing that—there’s less of a chance of him doing any good, but Jeongguk is on the ground, and Yoongi lets the very idea, the image fuel him as he just punches the zombie square in the jaw.

It doesn’t do much damage, but it does give him time to lunge for the phone on the desk beside them. He bashes it against the zombie’s head, yelling himself with the force of it. Blood spatters across him and he feels the zombie’s hand grab his wrist, but he wrenches out of its grasp, bashing its head again with the phone.

The zombie finally stumbles backwards and Yoongi goes for the desk lamp next, using all of his strength to smash it against the zombie’s head. It falls, finally, but he has to be sure so—Yoongi falls with it, using the metal end of the lamp to bash it again and again and again.

And again.

By the time he realizes the zombie has been dead, the creature’s head is nothing but a mess of broken bone and brains and blood. Yoongi’s breathing hard, looks down at himself to see how much blood is covering him. He’s sweating.

Then—he hears a groan from behind him and remembers Jeongguk. Yoongi turns quickly, sees Jeongguk is still on the ground and cradling his face. “Guk-ah,” breathes Yoongi, throwing the lamp down and turning so he can crawl toward the hybrid. And—he’s bleeding. Jeongguk is bleeding, two thin cuts running down his cheek from where the zombie scratched him.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, reaching Jeongguk and pulling him upward slightly, moving to cradle the hybrid’s head in his hands. “Guk-ah, it’s okay.”

There are tears on the boy’s face, clearly in pain, but Yoongi moves his hand away from his cheek to get a better look at the cuts. “Hyung,” whimpers Jeongguk, staring up at him with wet eyes. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby,” says Yoongi. “But I think they’re just scratches.” As far as he’s aware, scratches aren’t enough to spread the virus, but—it’s best to be careful anyway. “Hold on, let me clean it.”

He struggles to remove his own (damp) shirt, but then he’s leaning over Jeongguk and dabbing at the cuts with it. Yoongi doesn’t know the first thing about medical care, but he doesn’t think there’s a first aid kid around here anyway. The cuts aren’t bleeding much, and once he’s gotten most of the blood off, he sees they’re more scratches than anything—nothing to worry about.

Jeongguk is still looking at him with so much pain in his eyes, though, lip wobbling when Yoongi sets his shirt aside. “You’re okay, bunny,” he says, pulling Jeongguk into his lap properly and cradling his entire body. He presses a kiss to the side of his head, hoping it’ll be enough to keep him from crying.

“That was so scary,” Jeongguk whispers into his chest.

“I know,” says Yoongi.

“I—I thought—”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk.” He thinks about his own adrenaline, thinks about how this one wasn’t fun; none of the zombie kills are fun, but it’s easier when they aren’t truly fighting for their lives, when they can come up with some sort of battle plan. He feels like he might cry as well, knowing that Jeongguk was hurt by one of them, but he just presses another kiss to the top of the bunny’s head, strokes at his ears a bit.

It’s not the first time they’ve almost died, but—somehow, it feels worse. It feels real. They’re in a hotel that might have many more zombies, and he doesn’t know if they’ll even last the night. He doesn’t know what will happen in the morning, if they’ll be able to get out of here alive, and the thought scares him more than anything about this has. They’ve done so well. They’ve done so well and it can’t just—end here.

Not when he finally has Jeongguk, when he finally has something to survive for.

He’s still stroking Jeongguk’s ears absently when the hybrid sits up a bit, stares at him. His eyes are still wet, but there’s something determined behind them, too, something that aches for more as he leans forward until their foreheads are resting together.

“You saved my life,” Jeongguk whispers.

“I don’t want to die, Guk-ah,” Yoongi whispers back.

Jeongguk bumps their noses together. “Then don’t,” he says, like—like it’s that simple, but then he’s moving his hands to cradle Yoongi’s face and he’s kissing him, gently and warmly and with a pleading in it, like then don’t isn’t a command but something he’s begging for.

And Yoongi is—tired. But he’s never tired for Jeongguk, always ready to give him what he what he needs and wants, so he tilts his head upward, enough to kiss the hybrid back as his own hands come to rest on Jeongguk’s back. For seconds, minutes, it stays just like that—Jeongguk pressing and Yoongi pressing back, soft and reassuring. Yoongi can feel Jeongguk grinning into the kiss, the way his thumbs rub against Yoongi’s cheekbones like he’s just learning. Just trying to bask in the fact that they are alive and they will be, at least for tonight.

And then—something changes.

He’s not sure who starts it, but suddenly, there’s heat behind the kiss and Yoongi’s fingers aren’t soft on Jeongguk’s back anymore. Jeongguk presses harder against him, shifting slightly so he’s straddling Yoongi instead, licking into his mouth and making a noise that—asks for something. Yoongi is more than willing to give it to him.

When they break away, Yoongi knows it’s Jeongguk who is leading it; the hybrid plants a few more kisses on Yoongi’s lips before he kisses down his jaw, attaches his lips to Yoongi’s neck.

“Jeongguk-ah,” breathes Yoongi, closing his eyes for a moment as he soaks in how eager Jeongguk is, already rocking a bit in his lap. Jeongguk nips at his neck, makes him hiss, and then drags his lips back up so he can kiss Yoongi properly again. “Jeongguk, look at me.”

Jeongguk finally pulls back, still holding Yoongi’s face; his eyes are dark, wanting, still staring at Yoongi’s mouth like he wants to devour him—it’s almost alarming, so different from the usual bunny he knows, but he has to wonder if they’re thinking the same thing.

If this might be their only chance.

“Hyung,” breathes Jeongguk, then steals another kiss. He grinds down a bit, searching for friction as Yoongi lets out a breathy moan at the friction. “Can you just—please—”

Yoongi runs his hands up the hybrid’s back, squeezing his neck. “Tell me what you want, Guk-ah,” he says, sees the way Jeongguk shuts his eyes for a moment, like he’s trying to find the words. His hips grind down again, a little harder, and Yoongi feels it properly—Jeongguk is already hard.

He waits, because he wants Jeongguk to say it—wants to know exactly what this is supposed to be, spurred on by fear and need alone. He likes Jeongguk, of course, but there’s something more there, something about never knowing where or when this will end. So Jeongguk drops his hands, then drops his head onto Yoongi’s shoulder as he whines a bit, grinds down again.

“Wanna feel good,” is what Jeongguk mumbles, and Yoongi finally snags his waist, feels how tiny it is in his hands. “Wanna—wanna—” He sighs a little when Yoongi grinds his hips up a little to match Jeongguk’s downward movement.

Yoongi turns his head, ends up kissing the side of Jeongguk’s floppy ear. “Do you want me to touch you?” he asks, and Jeongguk shakes his head.

“More,” he says, voice a little small and embarrassed, and Yoongi can’t help but grin a little, although it’s ruined by the next grind of Jeongguk’s hips that has him realizing arousal is already sparking in his gut. It’s all he needs, though, to curl his arms around Jeongguk and heave them both upward, stumbling to his feet before going for the bed furthest from the zombie corpse still oozing blood into the carpet; he sets Jeongguk down gently, watching as the hybrid scoots up toward the pillows to allow Yoongi space to pursue him, crawl onto the bed and up between his legs.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate in attaching their lips again, giving Jeongguk a careful kiss as he settles between his legs and lets his fingers skate over the hybrid’s bare torso. He finds the places he’s sensitive, gauging the sounds and twitches of Jeongguk’s body when Yoongi presses against his ribs, sides, ghosts his fingers over his nipples. He likes the way Jeongguk whimpers a little when Yoongi raises a hand to brush against the base of his ears. “Feel good?” he asks against the other’s lips, pecking his nose when Jeongguk nods.

But Jeongguk is already trying to grind up against him again, so he knows he can’t spend too much time just teasing him, mapping his body; there’s something hurried about all of this, and even he can feel that. So he slides both of his hands down Jeongguk’s body until he reaches the waistband of his boxers, thumbing them and the boy’s hipbones in a silent question before Jeongguk nods again and lifts his hips enough for him to slide the material off and toss it on the floor somewhere to their right.

It’s not the first time he’s seen Jeongguk’s cock, but it’s the first time like this—laid out, bare for Yoongi and only Yoongi, and he raises his eyes to see Jeongguk’s face is already flushed, one hand covering his eyes. “What?” he laughs, leaning up to kiss the hybrid again. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, baby. You’re so cute.”

“Hyung,” whines Jeongguk. “Can you j-just—” Yoongi cuts him off by wrapping a hand over his cock, giving an experimental tug that has Jeongguk sighing again. Still, he removes his hand from his face so he can look Yoongi in the eyes when he shakes his head. Yoongi is confused for a moment before Jeongguk throws his whole arm over his face and mutters, “Wanna go lower.”

Yoongi—coos, just a little, but he understands what the hybrid wants so he removes his hand from Jeongguk’s cock and shuffles down a little, sliding his hands over his thighs. They part for him easily, and Yoongi notices, first, that Jeongguk’s fluffy little tail is trapped between his ass and the bed.

And then he notices Jeongguk’s little pink hole, already drooling slick onto the sheets and his thighs, and Yoongi is—strangely endeared. He looks up to see Jeongguk peeking at him from behind his arm, but the moment their eyes meet, the hybrid covers his eyes again. “Guk-ah,” says Yoongi, absently smoothing a hand down the boy’s thigh.

“What?” he asks quietly.

“Look at me.”

It takes a few moments, but then Jeongguk does, moving his arm enough so he can peek at Yoongi again. His eyes are a little glassy again, cheeks flushed, and Yoongi can’t help but grin a little. “I want to see your pretty face,” he says. “Want to see what you look like when I touch you. Okay?” It’s true—he’s been thinking about it enough, thinks about what Jeongguk had looked like when Yoongi had jerked him off the first time, and this will surely be better.

So Jeongguk finally moves his arm away from his face, draws his knees up toward his chest to present himself properly to Yoongi, and then he whispers, “Okay.”

Yoongi grins again, then wastes no time in letting his fingers dance closer and closer to Jeongguk’s hole. The hybrid is already letting out a little whines, little puffs of air at the anticipation, and Yoongi doesn’t think he should find it adorable but he does; every time he brushes his thumb over the rim of Jeongguk’s hole, a little more slick oozes out, preparing him. Like he was made for this.

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he tells Jeongguk, knowing that doing this with someone else is different from doing it himself, and then he presses the tip of his index into Jeongguk’s hole. The hybrid lets out a whimper high in his throat, throws his head back against the bed, and Yoongi takes it as a good sign, presses in a little further. The slide is easy thanks to the slick that coats Jeongguk’s rim and hole, practically begging for more, and he gets to the second knuckle before he begins pulling out again.

He starts opening him properly, slowly, and Jeongguk is just—taking it, eyes squeezed shut as he breathes in and out, making little whines and whimpers occasionally. Yoongi can’t decide what to watch, moves his gaze between the hybrid’s face and the sight of his own finger moving in and out of the bunny, wet and slick.

When Jeongguk’s hips start moving, trying to press down on his fingers, Yoongi adds another. It makes the hybrid gasp, hand fisting the sheets, and Yoongi starts stroking his thigh, praising him for being so good and open. He goes faster, scissoring his fingers once in a while as he stretches Jeongguk. Finally, he gets the sounds—the squelching of his fingers moving in and out of a slick hole, the lubrication oozing out greater and greater the more heavily that Jeongguk pants.

“You’re doing so well,” he tells the hybrid when he slips in a third finger, pausing when Jeongguk tenses for a moment and continuing only when he relaxes. “Such a good bunny for me.”

He hears Jeongguk moan something that sounds like his name, cock already beading as it lies hard on his stomach. Yoongi picks up the pace a bit, making sure to stay gentle as his other hand strokes Jeongguk’s thigh, and then he remembers the bunny’s tail. In this position, most of it is still squished between Jeongguk and the bed, but he strokes it experimentally and—

“Ah!” Jeongguk lets out, and Yoongi looks up to see—he’s coming all over his stomach, legs shaking a little as he looks down at the mess he’s made. Immediately, Jeongguk’s face flushes a bright red and he grabs both ears, flops them over his face as he hides from Yoongi, who—can’t help but chuckle, removes his fingers from Jeongguk’s ass as he crawls up his body again.

“Did you just come from me touching your tail?” he asks, trying to pry at Jeongguk’s hand, who is resolute in keeping his ears over his face.

There’s no answer. “Gukkie,” he giggles, begins stroking his side in what he hopes is comfort. “Guk-ah, look at me.”

Jeongguk kind of groans, but he doesn’t move his ears. “No,” he says, the word muffled.

“Are you embarrassed because of how sensitive you are?” asks Yoongi, thumbing at his hipbone again. He thinks he hears Jeongguk sniffle, legs trying to close but Yoongi is between them so it doesn’t work, and the elder raises a hand to gently pry the hybrid’s own away from his face. “I think it’s cute.”

“Don’t wanna be cute,” comes the response.

“Okay, it’s—” Yoongi can’t come up with another word. “It makes things fun.”

Finally, Jeongguk moves his hands (and his ears along with them) away from his face, peering up at Yoongi with eyes, wet eyes and red cheeks. “You’re just going to tease me,” he pouts, and Yoongi can’t help but swoop down to plant a kiss on the bunny’s nose.

“I won’t,” he says. “Not if you don’t want me to.” He’ll just have to—figure out how to be nice, at least for now. He thinks about Jeongguk’s little tail, his nipples, his ears. There are too many options, but he wants to do this right, and maybe making Jeongguk cry the first time it’s the best option. (The only thing is that this might be the only time.)

Jeongguk pouts harder, but then he reaches down and tugs a bit at Yoongi’s jeans. “Okay,” he says. “Can you just—go back to—”

Yoongi breathes out a husky laugh, plants one last kiss on Jeongguk’s nose, then his lips, before he does as he’s told. “You want my fingers again?” he asks, skimming them over the hybrid’s nipples to make him hiss, back arching into Yoongi. Still, Jeongguk shakes his head, trying to tug harder on Yoongi’s jeans. Yoongi gets it.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asks, eyebrow quirking upward when Jeongguk opens his eyes and stares at him. Nods. “I need you to say it, baby.”

Jeongguk whines, embarrassed again, but maybe not enough to deter the need as he whispers, “Please fuck me, Yoongi-hyung.”

And Yoongi doesn’t need anything more than that, quickly backing away from Jeongguk so he can shuck his jeans and boxers, still damp from the pool, and returns to settle between Jeongguk’s knees. And—Jeongguk is kind of just staring at his cock, breathing hard.

For the first time, Yoongi considers that if he’s never gotten a handjob before, maybe he’s never taken a cock, either.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning over so he can hook his finger under Jeongguk’s chin and tilt it upward so they can look at each other. “Have you ever done this before?”

Jeongguk swallows tightly. “I—I’ve done it with other hybrids,” he says. “Just, kind of. Um—other bunnies? When I go through my heats. But it’s not—” He’s stammering so badly, a shy little thing, and Yoongi smooths his thumb over the boy’s cheek.

“No humans?” he asks. He doesn’t know it’s really different, but from the way Jeongguk is looking at him, he guesses it is. Which means it’s the first time, really, something special, but something terrifying, too. And Yoongi doesn’t want him to be scared, so when Jeongguk shakes his head, he leans down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll go slow,” he whispers. “And you just tell me if it hurts, okay? I’ll stop. You don’t have to be scared.”

H would consider calling the whole thing off, but Jeongguk is still eager, pupils blown wide as he nods. So Yoongi lets go of his chin and settles between his legs again, pausing before he runs one of his hands through the slick that has dripped onto the sheets below Jeongguk’s hole, then uses it to give his own cock a few tugs; he’s already achingly hard, even if he hasn’t touched himself—something about watching Jeongguk, seeing how open and vulnerable and endearing he is. Something about the way Jeongguk is watching him now, a little apprehensive but with glassy eyes.

Yoongi positions himself at Jeongguk’s entrance, feeling his own heart hammering in his chest as he looks up to see Jeongguk’s eyes already squeezed shut, waiting, waiting. Yoongi rubs a hand over Jeongguk’s thigh, pausing for a moment before he begins pushing in.

Jeongguk gasps as the head of Yoongi’s cock enters him, and then he pauses, watching the pinched expression on the hybrid’s face. “Are you okay, Gukkie?” he asks, waiting for the boy to open his eyes and look down at him.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, just—” he says. “Keep going.”

Yoongi leans down to press a kiss to Jeongguk’s chest, something warm and reassuring, before he begins pushing in again, slow and steady, drawing a long moan out of Jeongguk before he finally bottoms out.

And—he lets out a groan himself at the tight heat surrounding him, the impossibility of how good it feels, but he tries not to focus on himself as he watches Jeongguk’s face again. He’s breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to adjust to the stretch.

“Guk-ah?” asks Yoongi. “Talk to me.”

“H-Hyung,” whines Jeongguk, throwing an arm over his face again. “You’re so big.” He sniffs, tears already collecting at the corners of his eyes as Yoongi runs his hands over the hybrid’s thighs, sides, his tiny waist.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of Jeongguk’s mouth. “If it hurts too much, we can stop.”

“No!” he says instantly, legs wrapping around Yoongi to keep him in place. “No, I can—just, ah. Give me a second.”

Yoongi busies himself with planting soft kisses all over Jeongguk’s face, his hands wandering Jeongguk’s body to keep him grounded, to distract him a little. When it’s been long enough that he worries Jeongguk will actually change his mind, the hybrid shifts his hips downward a bit and breathes, “Okay.”

Pressing one last kiss to Jeongguk’s cheek, Yoongi plants his hands on Jeongguk’s waist. “Okay,” he whispers and then drags his hips back slowly, slowly. It’s almost torturous, but he reminds himself to be careful as he pulls his cock almost entirely out of Jeongguk’s hole, and then begins pushing in again. Jeongguk moans a little, and Yoongi instantly begins praising him, figuring it’ll do well to make him feel comfortable and loved and good.

“Look at you, baby,” he says as he begins thrusting a little faster, the words punctuated by a breathy groan of his own at the slow drag of Jeongguk’s walls against his cock. “You’re such a good bunny for me. Taking my cock so well.”

Jeongguk whines again, the sound mixing with the squelch of the bunny’s slick as Yoongi begins moving his hips faster, faster, pushing in deep as he aims for something—more. “So tight,” he mutters, grip tightening on Jeongguk’s waist. Jeongguk is still moaning, seemingly unable to form real words as he pants and keens and makes the prettiest noises, something that Yoongi wants to hear forever and ever.

His own arousal spikes, though, pushing him harder as he snaps his hips into Jeongguk and hears the hybrid hiccup a little. He picks up the pace, lets their skin slap together as Jeongguk starts making little ah, ah, ah sounds, high in his throat, head thrown back against the bed.

“So good,” Yoongi groans, one hand sliding up to tweak Jeongguk’s nipples; his back arches into the touch, gasping again at the stimulation, and Yoongi thinks about his tail, thinks about the cum already drying on his stomach. Jeongguk’s cock is hard again, spurting pre-come onto his stomach, and it spurs Yoongi on again, driving his cock in harder, faster.

When Jeongguk has been silent for a little too long, breath tight, Yoongi slows down a bit and says, “Talk to me, baby.”

The response is a high-pitched, “Hyung,” and it doesn’t sound like it’s pained, just—overwhelmed, a little, like he might start crying because of the feel of Yoongi’s cock.

“Words, Guk-ah,” he reminds the hybrid as he smooths his thumbs over Jeongguk’s waist, still thrusting at the same pace, and Jeongguk hiccups.

“S’good,” he manages. “Really—ah, yeah.” Which is enough for Yoongi, planting another kiss in the center of his chest as he picks up speed again.

Finally, he hits Jeongguk’s prostate the hybrid lets out a loud moan, hands scrambling to find something to hold onto, something to ground in. In an inspired moment, Yoongi removes his hand from Jeongguk’s nipple and shoves his fingers into the hybrid’s mouth, not missing the hazy look in the bunny’s eyes or the way his lips instantly clamp around Yoongi’s fingers.

He tries to nail Jeongguk’s prostate again, hips snapping as Jeongguk tries to grind down onto him. Yoongi can feel something coiling in his stomach, but he doesn’t want it to be over just yet, likes the way Jeongguk is sucking on his fingers too much, likes the way his body is trembling beneath Yoongi.

He starts the praises again, pounding into Jeongguk as the hybrid practically squeezes his cock. He tells Jeongguk how good he is, how good his tight little ass is, tells him that he’s so wet and hot and good, over and over, and Jeongguk whines around his fingers, writhes a little on the bed like he needs something more.

So Yoongi removes his fingers, not bothering to wipe them off before he closes his hand around Jeongguk’s cock next. The hybrid keens, but it’s more of a lazy response, almost like he can’t quite focus on one thing anymore. His eyes are so glassy as he stares at the ceiling, then watches Yoongi for a moment, and Yoongi tugs on his cock as he plants a few stray kisses to his neck, jaw, lips.

Jeongguk lets out a high, drawn out hyung as Yoongi presses his thumb into the slit of his cock, other hand tightening even more on the hybrid’s waist as he thrusts one last time into the other and just—stays there. He grinds his cock a bit, likes the hiccup that comes with it, the way Jeongguk’s eyes are still wet with pleasure and stimulation.

“So good for me, baby,” breathes Yoongi, grinding a little harder as he tugs once, twice more at Jeongguk’s cock. But then he moves his hand upward, experimentally going for the hybrid’s ears, and he’s satisfied with the choked moan that gets from stroking at the base of one of the floppy ears, wet with sweat.

“Wanna,” breathes Jeongguk. “Wanna—ah.”

Yoongi grinds a little harder, then pulls back and pushes back in slowly, feels the coiling in his stomach tighten at the slide on his cock, the tightness of Jeongguk’s ass. It’s so wet.

“Yeah?” he breathes, planting an open-mouthed kiss on the hybrid’s neck. “Wanna come for me, baby?”

Jeongguk keens, nodding rapidly, and Yoongi returns his hand to the hybrid’s cock before beginning to tug again. “Be a good bunny, Guk-ah,” he whispers, twisting his wrist. “Come for hyung.”

It’s all the permission Jeongguk needs before something snaps and he comes for a second time, painting his stomach again and Yoongi’s hand with it, moaning low in his throat as he clenches around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi tugs a few more times, still thrusting as he tries to milk him for every last drop, and then when Jeongguk begins whining again, he lets ago and pulls out.

He’s close, though, so he kneels over Jeongguk’s stomach and jerks himself off, watching the way Jeongguk is watching him—glassy eyes, hair sticking to his forehead. Yoongi comes with a curse, come dripping onto Jeongguk’s stomach and chest, some of it hitting the hybrid’s chin.

He breathes hard, letting his hand fall to the mattress beside Jeongguk’s head. For a moment, he just lets his head hang, and then he looks up at the flush of Jeongguk’s face—both from the exertion or maybe from the amount of come drying on the stomach, the sounds he made, and Yoongi can’t stop thinking about how cute he is.

Yoongi ducks his head, presses a kiss to Jeongguk’s lips. “My cute little bunny,” he breathes. “You did so good.”

Jeongguk whines again, but it’s brattier this time, and he flops one of his ears over his face. Just like always.

“Hyung,” he says. “You can’t say things like that right now.”

Yoongi chuckles, pries the ear away so he can kiss him again, again, again. “But it’s true,” he says. “You’re cute.”

Jeongguk groans again, but then he starts giggling a bit, and he makes Yoongi get off of the bed so he can grab something to wash them both off with. Yoongi sees—the zombie, remembers that this isn’t all there is. For a moment, it felt as though it was just he and Jeongguk, just the two of them alone in the entire world. The bliss of it is spoiled somewhat by the reminder that the entire hotel may be infested with zombies, but there’s nothing they can do about it.

They might die tomorrow. But for tonight, they’re alive.

Once he cleans Jeongguk up and peppers his face with kisses, he drags the hybrid to a room without a zombie corpse in it, and they snuggle under the covers, and Yoongi pets Jeongguk’s ears until he falls asleep. It could be better, he thinks.

It could be worse.

In the morning, they make it out.

Yoongi takes Jeongguk’s hand, takes a new backpack stolen from one of the hotel rooms on the floor they slept on, takes the stairs down to the ground floor. They don’t stop to wonder about the other floors, because Yoongi is determined to not let this be their last go—but the ground floor is blessedly deserted again, and Yoongi runs back to the pool to grab the bat he’d left behind. Seoul is so, so far away. But there’s something else here now, and Yoongi isn’t so afraid.

They hit the road again, moving quickly in the early morning, making the most of the daylight. They come across more survivors, something hopeful about the understanding nods they give to each other, the supplies they trade. Someone gives Yoongi a bundle of rope in return for some of the clothes they stole from the hotel. Someone else gives him a lighter in return for soap. Yoongi always thought he wouldn’t know how to survive in these kinds of conditions, but maybe it’s not so bad.

He still thinks about Taehyung sometimes.

Halfway through the day, they almost make it out of the city, but they’re running out of food again; Yoongi told Jeongguk not to eat all of the carrots at once, but he has to wonder about bunny genes and tastes, and in any case, the sun is so hot on his back that it would be best to rest anyway. They walk until they find a grocery store, one of the large chain ones with air conditioning. He thinks about how little food has been left in any of the stores they’ve come across for days.

It’ll have to do.

They head inside, searching for—anything.

“Is there banana milk?” asks Jeongguk, like always.

“It might have gone bad by now,” says Yoongi, but he knows he’ll check.

Jeongguk pouts, just a little.

“Guk-ah, you know you’re going to have to stop being so picky about what we eat,” says Yoongi. “These places have pretty much run dry because of other people raiding them.”

“I know,” says the hybrid, reaching out to grab a few cans that are left on one of the shelves—cranberry sauce. It’s not something that either of them want to eat straight, but he hands it to Yoongi to put in his backpack anyway, because they don’t really have a choice.

“I’ll look, though, okay?” he asks, tugging Jeongguk closer to the wrist so he can plant a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “You start gathering other canned stuff.” He leaves the backpack with Jeongguk, takes the bat with him.

Yoongi wanders through the aisles, searching for the massive freezers and refrigerated walls of the store that might have banana milk. He was right, though—most of the shelves are empty, or the power has been cut off so that anything that needed cooling has spoiled. Something tells him Jeongguk would drink spoiled banana milk anyway, but he doesn’t want the boy getting sick at a time like this.

He finally spots the aisle that he wants and heads for it, eager to get this out of the way so they can get back on the road. But Yoongi hears it before he sees it—a person. The low moans of pain have his feet stilling, and Yoongi brings his bat up onto his shoulder as he takes a few tentative steps toward the aisle. He peeks around it, eyes widening when he sees a woman on the ground. In a puddle of blood.

Panic instantly spikes in his chest, but Yoongi steps into the aisle anyway. “Hello?” he asks, approaching the woman. The closer he gets, the more he sees that she’s practically been mauled, one of her legs twisted at an unnatural angle and her face and arms marred with claw marks.

Teeth marks.

Yoongi stops walking, staring at the woman as she moans. It doesn’t seem to register with him for a moment, what it means—at least until she rolls her eyes up toward him and lets out a garbled sentence that sounds remarkably like they’re here.

And then the woman’s neck snaps sideways, the moans turning into growls. She rolls, hands planting on the ground as she tries to stand up with a broken leg and—fuck. Fuck. Yoongi takes a step back, mind already whirling before the woman finally gets to her feet and looks at him and—her eyes are white. She roars.

“Jeongguk!” he yells, and the woman limps toward him, remarkably fast for a zombie with a broken leg, but she’s a zombie and that’s all that matters; he takes a few steps back, bringing the bat up in preparation to swing it and kill the fucker. She was a person a moment ago, but now she’s a zombie and he can’t feel bad, he can’t feel bad—

Then he hears growling, not from the woman—from the other side of the building. It’s loud. Aggressive. It’s a zombie—more than one, he thinks, as there’s suddenly a cacophony of noise from the other end of the store, shelves being tipped over and cans smashing to the ground. There’s a screamed, “Yoongi-hyung!” but he can’t focus on it because the zombie in front of him is suddenly in front of him, roaring at him.

Yoongi yells, bringing the bat down on top of her head. She falls, but her hand latches onto his ankle and she tugs him down with her. The noise from the other side of the store grows louder, growls mixing with shouts of pain and he thinks about Jeongguk, Jeongguk—the zombie is trying to bite him and he flails his foot, managing to kick her in the face, but it doesn’t do enough.

“Let go of me, you bitch!” he yells, kicking her in the face again, and the spray of blood that greets him is somewhat satisfying even though he thinks he hears screaming from the other side of the store—screaming that isn’t zombie—

“Jeongguk!” he yells again, desperate, desperate, and his heart is pounding as he brings the bat down on the arm of the zombie and she finally lets go. Yoongi scrambles to his feet, trying to get away from her and to Jeongguk, Jeongguk, there’s so much yelling, growling, he thinks he hears a bang and a thud and there’s another hand around his ankle, making him trip to the ground below.

Yoongi twists, already kicking and flailing as the zombie crawls up onto him, teeth bared. She’s still so human, he thinks; she looks human save for the white eyes and the dark blood that is already oozing out of her wounds, but he can’t feel bad as he writhes under her. “Fucking—” he panics, the weight of her crushing him as he grabs the bat and smashes the butt end of it into her eye socket.

He could have gone his whole life without knowing what happens when a bat is crushed through someone’s head, but here it is: he tastes blood in his mouth but the zombie flails a bit and stops trying to bite him, so he grits his teeth and jams the bat into her other eye, too. She’s so human—her blood is practically red, bones crushing under the force of the bat in the same way he’s sure a human’s would. But he doesn’t stop to think about it when the zombie finally, finally stops moving on top of him, and he takes a moment to just breathe.

It’s only then that he realizes—the rest of the store is silent.

The relief of killing the zombie is instantly replaced with terror as he throws the beast off of him and he scrambles to his feet, running across the store to where he left Jeongguk. There’s no one there, and his heart climbs in his throat when he rounds the next aisle and sees—a zombie.

Yoongi doesn’t think, just runs and swings the bat with a shout, smashing it into the zombie’s head. It stumbles sideways and he swings again, again, until the zombie falls and stays. There’s another zombie on the ground already, its entire chest ripped open, and he knows it’s Jeongguk’s doing but—Jeongguk.

Yoongi finds him at the end of the aisle, a ragged and bloody bunny on the ground. A sob rips its way out of Yoongi’s throat as he drops the bat and runs to him, dropping to his knees at Jeongguk’s side—his eyes are closed, but he’s breathing, and Yoongi shakes him once, twice.

“Guk-ah,” he says, tears already filling his eyes. “Guk-ah.” He shakes the hybrid again, but he doesn’t wake, chest rising and falling shallowly, and he’s covered in blood—his own, maybe, but the zombies’ too, and Yoongi starts crying when he sees one of Jeongguk’s ears has a tear in it, almost clean through the middle. Jeongguk will hate it.

But—Jeongguk is alive. He’s alive, even if he’s unconscious, and Yoongi lets out a sob as he lets his head fall onto the hybrid’s chest. “Wake up, Guk-ah,” he cries. “You have to wake up.” He sniffs, raises his head again so he can look at Jeongguk’s face and—

It’s only then.

It’s only then that Yoongi sees the bite mark on the juncture of Jeongguk’s neck, bloody and angry and deep. Infected. He sees the veins moving out from the wound, black with a virus that spreads through them. The virus—the zombie virus.

Yoongi’s heart skips one, two beats. Everything grinds to a slow, silent halt.

In his sleep, Jeongguk growls.