The wretched scent of charred flesh and smoke wafted through the air, making breathing a nearly impossible task. Cars were strewn around, flipped and mangled as if some child's abused plaything. Everything was blackened with soot, making everything within eyesight look like a dirty chimney had emptied it's contents in that particular place.
Suddenly, amidst the complete absence of movement and sound, there was a rustling. This rustling should have been something insignificant after a blast like that, perhaps a settling of dust, or a slight breeze that stirred some rocks. The thing is, it wasn't just a slight movement caused by great Mother Nature herself-it was caused by a human. This human was a man named Blaine, and a pretty strong one, at that. Slowly but surely, that rustling kept going until the dark-colored, curly haired man had dug himself out from underneath the rubble. Blaine struggled to his feet, brushing himself off as he did so. He looked around, devastated at the sight, and confused as to how he got to this strange, apocalyptic place.
"What the hell is going on?" screamed a very scared and confused Blaine.
And that's when Blaine felt a sharp pain in his neck, and immediately lost consciousness.
?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?
"You think he's infected?"
"It's an extremely unlikely possibility, but a possibility all the same."
"God, I hope he's not. He is really, REALLY hot. I really hope he's in construction, so I can tell him he can screw me anytime..."
"Oh my god, Santana. Just get your slutty ass out of here before he wakes up. I would really like to be able to have a decent conversation with the man, and I can't do that when he's staring at your boobs and your ass."
Santana breathed a sigh of annoyance, and stalked out of the room.
"Oh, Kurt?" she called to him as she peeked her head around the doorjamb.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe you'll get lucky, and he'll be a queer, too."
"Thank you for those eloquently sophisticated words of wisdom, Gandhi."
"Bitch."
And at that, Santana turned on her leopard print heels, and clicked down the hallway.
Kurt turned back to, as Santana had bluntly put it, 'really, REALLY hot' man. He was kind good looking-gorgeous, actually. With that curly catastrophe of a head, and the subtle muscles, which weren't bulky by any means, but definitely there, and the slight scruff on that gorgeous shapely jaw, and...whoa. He had to stop. His eyes were heading south of the equator, and he REFUSED to get all hot and bothered over a man that was probably homophobic and violently so.
Oh, god, or what if he had the virus? He could NOT develop a crush on this stranger if there was even the tiniest chance he could have contracted it! He would much rather be beat up by a homophobic asshole than turn into a freaking groaning, bloated, falling apart zombie!
Kurt's silent rant was suddenly cut of by a groan that came from the cot in front of him. Kurt's hand darted to the gun under his shirt, resting his hand on the butt of it and clicking off the safety simultaneously.
The possibly-a-homophobe-or-a-zombie-candidate-guy had woken up, and was starting to move.
Kurt readied himself for the telltale sign of an infected one by the ring of ugly yellowish-green around the pupil as the man rolled over.
Then, the handsome, dark haired man opened his eyes, and looked into Kurt's.
?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?¿?
Hiii! I'm ThatChicThatLikesToSing, and this is my first fic!
Okay, so, I know that you probably hate me because of that cliffhanger, but you'll just have to deal with it!
Aaaanyways, like I said, this is my first fic, and I'm probably making the biggest mistake ever by making it a multi-chapter, but what the hell! If it sucks, I am sincerely sorry. Honestly, though, leave me a review. I would love to know what to fix!
Oh! I almost forgot! I don't have a schedule down for how often I'll update this, but I'm hoping that it won't be too chaotic. I'll try to shoot for at least once a week.
Okay, so after that way too long author's note, go review! Or follow! Or favorite! Or don't! Or whatever! =D