Title: Fated
Summary: I'd never put much stock in the zombie apocalypse. What a load of crap, right? Wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, its characters or any mentioned labels.
Author's Note: This is dedicated to DeadlyNightshade1395. Once again, I'm taking requests because I'm suffering a writer's block. So, yeah. Review.
Suggested Listening: Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace
…
I'd never put much stock in the zombie apocalypse. What a load of shit, right? Right.
Wrong.
It started as every cliché fan-fiction and movie ever, with an unexplainable and rapidly spreading fever that passed through food. I only ever ate Ramen noodles, so I was spared the sickness. Then thousands of people turned within hours of each other, three days after the virus took hold.
It had been three months since the outbreak. Most of the world had become a burning or smoldering wasteland crawling with decaying and mindless shells. I was one of few survivors that couldn't stay in bordered communities that were spread around the country. I needed to be moving and alone, or with a small group. After my apartment complex became overrun with zombies, I slashed my way out and took my beautiful car. I burned the building and never looked back.
I didn't know where I was or where I was going. All I knew was that before I left, I broke into a gun store and took a few choice guns, all the ammo I could find, and about ten nifty little knives. Then I fought my way through a grocery store and took cases of water and any non perishable I could get my hands on. I quickly discovered that dismemberment and a bullet in the head were really the only ways to kill them, considering I didn't want that blood splatter on my beautiful car.
I was somewhere in California when I met my co-driver. I'd been cutting through an alley to avoid a street full of crashed cars and in doing so, I saw about four zombies gathered around someone that seemed to be putting up a hell of a fight. I'd gotten out of the car and shot two when the other two fell at the hands of a gorgeous blonde wielding a crossbow.
When the undead were on the ground and actually dead, I swung around and aimed at the blonde with a shotgun while he leveled his bow at my head. We stood there, tense for a few moments until I slowly lowered the gun. He noticed and lowered his bow a fraction, looking me up and down.
"Are you infected?" he asked in a smooth baritone. I blinked and relaxed my arms, shaking my head.
"No. Are you?" He stood straight and relaxed somewhat, though he was still practically vibrating with energy.
"No. I think I would be if you hadn't stepped in though." Now that we weren't in significant danger, I took the time to study him. He had a blonde bob cut that was layered and choppy and brushed his lean but strong shoulders. He was decked out in leather from head to toe; leather trousers that were practically painted onto his long, toned legs that ended in platform combat boots. His torso was covered with a leather vest that showed his long, pale arms and revealed his midriff. I sucked in a breath as I met his eyes, registering beautiful and dangerous blue staring back at me.
He was shifting uncomfortably, sort of like I did once I got nicotine withdrawal. His grip was tight on the bow and he was looking around almost nervously.
"It's too quiet," he murmured, almost to himself. I stepped closer, slowly, stretching my legs.
"Is it?" His eyes snapped back to me and he grimaced.
"Yes. I've been out on the street since the outbreak. Always fighting. Makes me restless." The toned and flexed muscles suddenly drew my mind in a different direction, considering the only company I'd had in a while was my hand. I looked him up and down again, noting how unbelievably sexy he was. Then I shifted again, biting my tongue and trying not to focus on the growing tightness in my pants. But apparently he noticed, because his lips parted slightly and his eyes glazed over. "What's your name, Red?" he asked in a lower voice that was a little husky.
"Matt." He smirked and began to stride up to me.
"I'm Mello. Are you a little restless too?" I nodded mutely, watching the way his pants tightened the closer he got. "Well then… Why don't we help each other out?"
Before I could answer, he smashed his lips against mine and forced his tongue between them. I dropped the gun and he dropped the bow and my arms wound around his shoulders. He slipped his arms around my waist and pushed me back against the bumper. I slid up onto the hood and wrapped my legs around his waist, tangling my tongue with his and pulling his hair. His fingers slid through my hair and his lips traveled down my jaw to my throat. I let out a low moan and rolled my hips against his.
"We should probably be quick about this," I panted against his cheek, working the laces of his pants and freeing his cock (and I was lucky, because he was huge). He gave a soft moan and nodded, popping the button on my jeans and sliding them down just enough for me to drape my ankles over his shoulders. Then he clamped one hand down over my mouth and pushed in harshly. I bit hard into his gloved palm at the feeling and wriggled my hips a bit as his arm wound around my waist and pulled me closer. He rocked his hips against mine, not quite thrusting but moving inside until I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded.
And then he moved. There was astonishing power behind his lithe, compact frame because his hips snapped hard and fast enough to shake my whole car. He let my mouth go and I fell back against the hood, using my legs to lift up against his hips and pull him deeper. He threw his head back and groaned softly, holding my hips and picking up the pace. I turned my head to the side and bit into my arm to muffle any sounds I might have made as he relentlessly struck my prostate, making my vision bleed white. He leaned over me and grabbed my shoulder.
"You gonna come?" he murmured in my ear and I flung my arms around him, nodding desperately and burying my face in his shoulder. He hummed lowly and wrapped his fingers around my cock, which sent me completely over the edge. I captured his lips in a kiss while white hot pleasure spiked through me and I came hard. He groaned against my lips and gave one last harsh thrust before I felt warmth filling me. Then his entire style changed and he was rocking his hips again, riding out the dual orgasm while panting against my shoulder.
The clatter of a trashcan being knocked over brought us back to reality and we saw the infected at the mouth of the alley, coming towards us. We both grabbed our weapons and he turned to fight, but there were far too many for either of us.
"Get in the car," I hissed, hopping in the driver seat. He looked back uncertainly before sliding in and lacing his pants back up. I started the car and tore backwards out of the alley, gunning it out of town. We were silent until the town was far behind us and nothing but flat land stretched out before us. "So…" I said conversationally, "wanna stay with me? I'm on my own." He looked at me in surprise.
"Seriously? You have food and gas and weapons?" I nodded.
"Yeah, I raided a bunch of places when the outbreak started." He stared at me for a while. His face was blank and unreadable. I started to squirm uncomfortably, afraid he'd say no. But then he smiled, which made his entire face light up angelically.
"Yeah. I think I'd like that."