Author's Note: ok. I'm certain I'm in over my head with this. My first Fanfic and it's Yaoi SasuNaru Zombie fic? somehow I feel alittle overwhelmed. Sasuke Seme, Naruto uke. All of the first chapter will be in Sasuke's Pov. No Uchihacest... at all. I'm experimenting with the first person POVs here, Not sure if the entire story will be first person or if I'll have chapters from a diff perspective later on.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Beta-ed by brokenseraphim

Updated –5/23/2010

-----Chapter 1 Sasuke POV-----

We'll drink you under, the fucking table – When everyday's the Weekend. Asking Alexandria.

Feeling sick this morning, woke up to Megaman doing the rumba with Inuyasha across the floor. Fucking cosplayers. Head feels weird. Holy shit, they're still going at it, that couple in the corner… guy leaning against the wall looks kind of limp, maybe his girlfriend likes him better that way. Gawd she's devouring his face.

I hate these parties, get smashed, wake up god knows where, to people sucking face all over the apartment. I blink owlishly, bemused. There's wailing shrieks over the pounding blood rushing in my ears, sounds like fire engine sirens. Ahahaha where's the fire gents? In my skull.

I finally come to realize that I'm lying under a table. Crawling on my hands and knees amongst bottles and crusted paper plates, I hear someone choking, sounds like someone's hacking up a lung. It's pretty hazy in here.

Standing shakily, I feel like the next step I take will send me head over heels. Fuck this is why I hate random parties. My jeans feel like they grew into my skin and stink like whatever I was drinking before I passed out under the table. I hear a gasp, and I wonder if the girl sucking face found her way into the guy's pants. I take a few wobbly steps and almost immediately I'm crashing to the linoleum on my back. I groan as my head smacks the floor, and a weight presses into my torso.

"FUCK!" I holler. The girl spews out warm greasy wetness all over my neck and chest, while trying frantically to pull me against her. Something smells awful and her eyes are bloodshot. I finally throw the intoxicated lady against a passed out guy sprawled on the floor, I manage to stand and wipe my face on my sleeve before she rams me to the ground again. She's gasping, sounds like she smokes too much. I wrestle to push her face away from my skin, scrambling with her hands. I've had enough, she's drunk, I'm pissed, my fist connects with the side of her face. She goes down hard and spasms against the floor, her tank top riding up against her bony chest, something's off about her. Something… my head is killing me. I've had enough and I'm jogging out the graffiti plastered door and down the trash strewn hallway before you can say, "Buy me a boatload of aspirin."

It's bright out here. Wind's barely noticeable but lazily soothes the autumn leaves to fall. I shove the smelly hoodie with one sleeve dirtied by the girl's barf over my head and throw it in a trash can. Why the hell did I go to that party? I need a shower. I need to find the nearest drug store and buy myself some painkillers and some sugary nondescript caffeinated drink. I need to go back to campus and check my schedule.

I stop and groan. My cell should have been in that hoodie.

After digging my cell out of the foul clothing and re-discarding the soiled thing, I flip the phone open and check the time. Almost four in the afternoon, I seriously need to shower. I'm pretty certain I don't have classes 'til six, which is due to the lazy ass professor coming in late everyday for his class that should start at five thirty, but hey, I'm not complaining.

He's a genius of sorts. It gets on my nerves that someone can be that smart and that late and still exude an aura of 'I'll do whatever the hell I want and get away with it effortlessly' while being immaculately modest. While I inexplicably regard him with respect, I also find myself wanting to super glue his desk drawers shut or feed his tie to a paper shredder while it's still attached to his throat. I have my reasons.

"Careful Sasuke, your Uchiha is slipping." Speak of the devil. Leaning casually against his black Mercedes, is tall, dark, and annoying with a steady smirk stretching across his pasty face.

"Sure, and yours screamed bloody murder then keeled over and died when it realized who it was trying to repress." I almost held that in, almost.

He raises an ebony eyebrow and opens the passenger side door.

"A compliment, from you little brother?" I grimace. His dark grey eyes crinkle in a smile that doesn't quite make it to his lips. "Regretfully, I cannot return the favor. You look like shit." Feel like it too. I slump into the offered seat, the door shuts and I watch warily through the windshield as he makes his way around the car to the driver's door.

Ah, throughout my short 18 years of life, he has never failed to be there. On my sixth birthday he gleefully fed my prized possession, the red plastic power ranger, to the lawnmower. The proffered excuse was he was making sure the lawn was thoroughly trimmed for my party. Enthusiasm… the undoing of all toys and personal items I'd foolishly left in the yard? No. The suspicion that my brother lived to make my life miserable was realized when the Styrofoam deluxe model plane that hadn't left my room since its messy triumphant completion was found in tiny pebbly snowy bits gently being carried off down the street by the breeze. That day I realized two things. One, my brother was the devil, and two, he was out to get me.

Back then, I'd been utterly perplexed. What had I done? Why did he hate me? Eventually I'd realize that it is a matter of principle. I am therefore he ridicules, degrades and downright breaks my spirit on every occasion he deems it worth the effort.

Any further reminiscent musing flies out of my left ear due to my head cracking sharply against the passenger door window as my brother curses and jerks the driver's wheel spastically. Spastic, that word in the same sentence as my older brother can only mean life threatening situations or the world's ending, both of which could cause anyone to go into a convulsing twitch fit. My brother is nothing if not graceful. Dazed, I blink away stars and regain slight awareness in time to discern my brother cussing up a storm.

"Idiots, fucking imbeciles, they'd give anyone a goshdamn license in this state. Driving on the wrong side of the road, you motherfu-. "

Ok. He's fine. I check for whiplash by slowly flexing my neck, something pops bringing me an indescribable amount of relief and I exhale my gratitude in the form of a low moan.

My brother stops mid curse word and glances at me with an expression I can only conclude as worry. The weirdo, you don't spend half your waking hours trying to make my life miserable only to worry about me when something like this happens. The evil bastard, sends mixed messages, and only acts like an older brother when the mood suits him.

"You alright Sasuke, I thought I heard something crack…"

I choose not to answer, and instead focus on my inner monologue darkly while glaring out the window Oh I'm fucking dandy, Sunshine and Rainbows.

A sound not unlike a building exploding rips both of our attention to the rearview mirror. After gaping for a few minutes, I turn around in my seat and lean over the armrest to get a better view out the rear window. My thoughts are running along distorted broken lines, and I'm sure that ugly blue Toyota didn't deserve to be melded to the telephone pole despite the fact that it recently tried to kill us. I turn back around in my seat and tilt my head slightly to the side as my eyebrow's rise up.

We never eat at Denny's. We don't even buy soft drinks here, so why are we currently parked in a Denny's parking lot? I give an utterly bewildered glance at my brother, who just settles back into his seat and stares straight out the windshield, blinking every now and then. We sit in something near companionable silence for a few minutes till it's broken by sirens. I close my eyes and exaggerate a wince by crumpling my forehead and tightening my eyelids together slowly. I'm suddenly remembering my headache.

The noisy wails of cop cars and ambulances is getting nearer, I turn my head lazily in my brother's general direction and mutter, "Got any aspirin?"