Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Title: By Blade and Blast
Romance: Malik x Honda
Word Count: 10,148
Genre: Supernatural, Romance||Rated: R
Notes: This is an AU. Honda and Malik haven't met before this point. All else will be revealed in the writing. Warning: there is soft gay sex, death, and suicide in this fic. And zombies.
Feedback: All forms eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Summary: This is the way you survive in a zombie apocalypse. Kill them before they can kill you. And if you find someone you can love, don't be afraid to kill them too.
The bananas were still good. Honda decided that was as close to a blessing as he was going to get that day. He kept his shotgun gripped in one hand, just in case he saw anyone. Or anything.
To be specific, if he saw any zombies lurching toward him.
So far, everything was quiet. Zombies didn't tend to lurk around in places where humans weren't, and the humans had left the area already. Probably screaming their lungs out about zombies.
Honda nibbled on the banana a little more, turning his head this way and that to be certain no one snuck up on him. He kept his back to the fruit cart and wondered how much of what was in there he could take with him.
A single footstep was all that it took to get him to drop the banana and bring his shotgun up, pointing toward the shadowy corner the sound came from. "Come on out where I can see you."
In all honesty, Honda expected a zombie to lurch out, and his finger held steady on the trigger. Another day, another head blown off. If it kept him alive, he wasn't going to argue about anything he had to do.
What he didn't expect was a young man about his own age, foreign from the look of him, to step out. The stranger was every bit as tense as Honda himself was, his violet eyes wary and watchful.
His gaze dropped for a breath to the bananas and other fruit on the cart behind Honda before he looked back up at him. "Toss me one of those." He indicated the bananas with a quick flick of a finger. He wasn't close enough for Honda to be able to tell if the finger was callused or not. A callus could mean a fighter. A fighter could be useful.
"What's your name?" Honda made no moves, not even to lower his shotgun. Just because the guy could speak didn't mean he wasn't about to turn into the raving undead. Or that he was someone Honda wanted to share his hard-found food with.
"Malik Ishtar." Honda couldn't place his accent right away, but the name confirmed his initial tagging of the stranger as foreign. "Are you going to shoot me or not?"
Words that might've been a joke two weeks ago. Now, they were harsh reality. Honda eased his finger off the trigger. He still didn't trust someone he'd met all of a minute earlier, but feeding someone didn't mean trusting him. He tossed a banana over to Ishtar, who caught it with ease.
He picked up his own fruit from where it had fallen and finished it in another two bites. He also didn't take his eyes off the stranger the whole time. If the guy made a single threatening move, it would all be over for him.
Instead, Ishtar finished his banana and tossed the peel into an empty fruit rack near him. Honda snorted. "What did you do that for?"
"Would you want to be running from the zombies and step on a banana peel?" The blond asked, one eyebrow raised a little. Honda had to admit that was a point. Most of the roads were clear, to a point, but without any trash pick-up, he guessed people would have to keep the ways clear themselves.
He tossed his own to the same rack and adjusted his gun. "What are you doing around here?"
"Same as you. Same as anyone. Trying to not be eaten." Ishtar shrugged. He wore a pale violet shirt, cargo pants, and boots. As he stepped closer, Honda spied something else: a belt from which a long-bladed knife hung. "You didn't tell me your name."
So he's armed and he didn't attack me first. That could mean a lot of things. He also wondered why the guy had a knife and not a gun. It wasn't as if they were hard to find.
"Honda Hiroto." Honda moved back, not wanting to get too close. "Call me Honda."
"Call me Malik." The other replied, picking through some of the other offerings available. He produced a bag from one of his pockets and started to fill it with the fruit that was still good.
Honda acknowledged that with a brief nod. He wasn't all that sure that they'd be around each other long enough for names to matter. "On your own?"
"Who isn't?" Malik tied off the bag and tossed it over his shoulder. There was a bite to his words that hadn't been there before, one Honda recognized. Malik was alone now.
"Who did you have to kill?" Honda heard his own voice softening. This was something he'd dealt with himself.
Malik's hand dropped to the knife's hilt, and Honda could see he was no stranger to its use just by that movement. "What business is it of yours?"
"Just curious." Honda shrugged. "Why do you carry that, anyway? You get better results with a gun."
Malik's chest heaved and his grip tightened on the hilt. "You ask a lot of questions." He lifted his head to stare at Honda, hatred burning in his gaze. Whatever he might have expected to say died as he drew his knife and in a movement almost too quick for Honda to see, much less avoid, threw it toward him. The blade didn't touch him, though. It soared past his shoulder and a meaty thunk echoed from behind them both.
Honda turned, raising his gun as he did, and sighted on the zombie that had crept up behind him. He swore under his breath; he should've been paying more attention to his surroundings and less to Malik. The zombie flailed on the ground as Malik walked over and pulled his knife out of the eye. He examined it for a moment, then stabbed it through the other eye, ramming it up and down several times, then struck through the neck. He kicked the severed head away, watching as it bounced into a nearby gutter.
"It would be faster with a gun." Honda pointed out as Malik pulled a handkerchief out of another pocket and wiped his blade clean. "And you wouldn't risk getting bitten either."
"I like it like this." Malik eyed his knife, turning it so the blade caught the sunlight, before he put it back in the sheath.
Honda shrugged; it worked, so who was he to criticize? "I'm getting out of here." He hesitated for a moment before making up his mind. "I've got a safe place I'm staying. Haven't seen any zombies in three days near it. Want to come along?" It wasn't an offer he'd extended to anyone else. Granted, he hadn't met anyone else who he could have asked in the first place.
Malik glanced back at him, eyes narrowed for a moment, before he nodded. Honda wasn't surprised; it wasn't as if he had somewhere else to go.
He didn't move to follow Honda, though. "I've got a motorcycle a couple of streets over. I'm not going to leave it."
"All right." Honda shifted toward the other now. "We'll get it, then I'll show you my place." It would probably be safe for another few days at least. Then he'd have to find somewhere else to stay once the local living dead figured out he was alive. Assuming that hadn't happened between the time he'd left and now.
Malik shot him another look but said nothing against it as Honda followed him. Neither of them spoke as they moved through the too-quiet streets. Honda kept his gun ready; it was a habit he had no intentions of dropping until there weren't any more zombies. Who knows when that'll happen. If it ever does.
Honda tried not to pay any attention to the dead bodies scattered everywhere. That was another reason to get out of here as soon as he could. If they weren't rising up to eat you, the dead were rotting and revolting. He sniffed, wishing he'd thought to bring some kind of handkerchief with him to filter out the stench. Maybe they could pick up a few supplies at a department store. He could use more shotgun shells, if nothing else.
He shot an occasional look at Malik as they walked along and was pleased to see that no matter what ghosts lurked in his past, Malik kept himself alert and aware of what was going on around him at all times. The slightest noise brought him to a halt until he identified it, usually as a stray dog or cat that wandered through the area.
One street away from where Malik indicated his motorcycle was, both of them stopped at the same moment, attention turning toward a nearby alleyway. Honda brought his shotgun up and held it ready, while Malik's hand was on his knife. Neither of them moved, waiting for what they knew was coming.
Out of the darkness they lurched, and Honda's stomach twisted when he saw who they were. No, who they used to be. They're just bodies now. Bodies that hadn't given up and stopped moving.
He didn't stop to think about it. Thinking about it now meant not being alive to think about it later. He just shot, aiming for the head. That was basic knowledge these days: get rid of the head, either by blowing the zombie's brains out the back or cutting it off, and the zombie wasn't a threat anymore.
He fired again and again, thinking in the back of his head that he was going to need to reload once they were out of here. He was close to empty when the last zombie fell. A hand fell on his shoulder and he jerked around to see Malik there. For a moment he wanted to bring up the gun and keep on killing; killing was easier than anything else was, especially now.
"Let's go." Malik spoke, his words working their way into Honda's mind. "My bike's on the next street." The words weren't necessary for the location; Honda remembered where they were. But to give him something to focus on: yes, they were necessary indeed.
Honda said nothing more as they walked along. Hope no more zombies turn up. I'm too damned low on ammunition. He would be able to reload with more comfort once they were at his hideout, but until then, their options wouldn't include 'blow the zombies' heads off' for very long. Malik better be good with that knife of his. Though if his opinion were asked, running away was the better option. Running meant that you didn't have the same risk of getting your arm torn up by a zombie's teeth.
Malik's elbow nudged him and Honda looked up to see the other indicating a well-polished and well-cared for motorcycle parked in the middle of an empty lot. He nodded; the extra space meant no one was going to be able to sneak up on Malik. He would've made the same decision if he had a bike to park.
"Get on." Malik tossed him a helmet. "Tell me where your place is."
"How well do you know the city?" Honda asked as he settled the helmet and got behind Malik. His place wasn't easy to find. In all truth, he'd lost his way a few times himself when he'd first located it.
"Well enough." Malik started up the bike and took a slow turn around the parking lot, checking for any problems that might've turned up while he was gone. Honda glanced around to get his bearings and gestured forward.
"That way. It'll be easier if I show you." He knew which ways the zombies liked to lurk much better by locations than by street names.
Malik nodded and headed the way that he'd indicated. Honda tried not to think about anything but where they were going, especially not about where they'd just been. The faces of those who he'd just killed haunted the back of his thoughts, where images he never wanted to think about lived on a regular basis.
Why did it have to be them? His voice and eyes told Malik which way to go. His mind and thoughts circled incessantly about those faces that were no more.
Miho. A low whine forced its way out of his throat against his will and Malik turned to look at him.
"Something wrong?" Violet eyes flickered away from him, checking the area for zombies. Honda didn't need to be able to read minds to know what was going on in Malik's. What else would be the problem, right?
Honda dragged up a reasonable response. At least he thought it was one. "No." That had to be the stupidest question he'd ever heard, especially since the dead had begun to walk again. Everything was wrong. Everything would always be wrong.
He shook his head and tried to get his thoughts to focus on something that would make sense, even as he gave the last of the directions to Malik. Ammunition. He needed to stock up, reload the shotgun, check all his weapons, and put away the food that he'd brought back. Then talk to Malik and find out what his story was. If they were going to team up on any kind of a regular basis, he wanted to know what made the foreign guy tick.
After that, when he was alone, then he could indulge himself in screaming at the top of his lungs over who he'd had to kill that day.
Malik drew to a halt in the center of an empty road, one without any nearby lanes or alleys and far enough from the buildings that if any zombies lurked in the area, they could see them before the undead were too close. "How's this?"
"Good enough." Honda got off the bike and looked around. Everything appeared to be as safe as it could be for right now. "It's this way." He headed for one of the farthest buildings, attention now more focused on exactly what he was doing. Malik followed, though Honda could only tell by the movement of the shadow beside him. The other's feet were as quiet as his own were.
Three locked doors, two separate pits with sharpened stakes set in the bottom, and a ladder that appeared to lead to an upstairs bedroom lay in between the door he chose and Honda's base. Once they passed it all, Malik glanced at him.
"You believe in home security, don't you?"
Honda gave no reply, but instead moved past the ladder to what looked like a weathered, half-rotting door. He cleared his throat in a specific pattern. "Honda Hiroto, April 19, 1979. Blood type A."
He paused, then glanced at Malik. "Also entering: Malik Ishtar." He gestured toward the other. "State your birthday and blood type. The computer'll keep it in file if you need to come back here."
Malik lifted an eyebrow, but spoke. "Malik Ishtar, December 23, 1979. Blood type B."
A computerized voice spoke in return. "New data recorded. Welcome, Malik Ishtar."
Gears whirred, hydraulics lifted, and the half-rotted door lifted up to reveal a clean corridor behind it. Honda gestured for him to follow, then hurried along it himself. Another door at the far end lifted once they came close enough and beyond this one was…
"From all of that, I expected some kind of a mini-fortress," Malik said as he looked around the small apartment. "Like what you'd seen in a movie."
"Sorry. This place used to belong to …someone I used to know. That's why it's got all the security there. He was probably going to make it into something like a fortress, but he never had the time." Honda shook his head and went over to where he kept the shells for his shotgun. "Make yourself at home."
He paid little attention to what else Malik might be doing as he took care of his gun. All of those thoughts were still waiting in the back of his mind, lurking ever so patiently for something to turn up to call his attention back to them.
"She was one of them." Honda's head jerked up and he saw Malik with a framed photograph in his hand. Oh. Yeah. He'd almost forgotten he had them there in the first place. It was obvious which one the blond was looking at.
"Her name was Nosaka Miho. She and I dated in high school." Honda wondered if his voice sounded as clipped and emotionless to Malik as it did in his own ears. From the look Malik shot him, it did.
"What about the others?" Malik set the one photo down and gestured toward the rest of them on the shelf.
"Friends of mine." He didn't want to give the names. Naming them would make them people again in his mind and remind him of times better forgotten in these days. Not all of them had been in that pack, for which he was much more grateful than he wanted to say. But just seeing Miho there had been more than enough.
Malik settled onto the couch and Honda kept on working with his gun, getting it taken care of. Scraping sounds told him that Malik was taking care of his own weapon and a quick look up confirmed it. The blond stropped the edge of his blade on a whetstone he'd produced from somewhere. He appeared as focused on that as Honda was on his own work.
Finally Honda put aside the gun and stretched. As much as he'd hoped to avoid it, it was time to get something prepared for dinner. That banana wasn't going to last him forever. "Anything you want in particular to eat?" Not every form of manners had died when the dead started walking.
"No meat." Malik didn't look up from his knife. "I'm a vegetarian."
Honda nodded and glanced at his refrigerator. "I think I can make some okonamiyaki." He frowned; would Malik even know what that was? "It's a sort of…" What would be the best way to describe it? What had Anzu called it? Oh, that was it. "Kind of a pancake, but with lots of ingredients in it." He'd have to leave off the meat this time, but that wasn't such a bad thing. He was kind of low on it anyway.
"Never had that before." Malik shrugged and held the blade up to catch the light as he inspected the edge. "As long as there isn't any meat."
"Don't expect it to be all that good." Honda warned as he gathered ingredients. He wasn't the kind of cook that Bakura was…had been. But he made do. At least he hadn't burned his hideout down or killed himself with his cooking.
He put together what he had for the okonamiyaki, keeping it strictly to non-meat items. Malik stayed out of the way, something Honda was grateful for. Cooking was hard enough without someone hovering over one's shoulder.
"The last time someone cooked for me, it was Isis." Malik's voice had even less inflection to it than Honda's had moments earlier. "It was just a few days before everything went to Hell."
Honda said nothing at all, but tilted his head in Malik's direction, enough to let him know that he was listening.
"We were supposed to be returning home the next week. She was working with the museum here in town. The display was almost over with." Malik played with his knife, staring at the way the light reflected off it. "Then it happened. Just out of nowhere."
Honda closed his eyes. Those words called up so many memories of his own. A peaceful day at work. He'd been on the way home when the first reports had sounded over the radio. I didn't believe them. Who would have? The dead rising. Like some kind of bad horror movie. Jounouchi laughed about it.
They all had. Even Bakura, who loved the occult and anything supernatural with a passionate fervor. Perhaps that was why he was the first one of them to fall victim to the zombies. Honda never knew the details. He just knew that the day after the first reports came in, they'd seen Bakura chewing on one of his co-workers. While said co-worker was still alive.
"We tried to get out of here." Malik was still talking, and Honda forced himself to listen. "There was going to be an emergency flight out of the city and Isis managed to get us tickets. On the way there…it was like every cemetery in the world had released its dead." So far as Honda himself knew, that was exactly what had happened. "We managed to get out of there and back to our hotel room. Rishid killed a lot of zombies…" He hesitated and looked up at Honda, curiosity tingeing his expression. "Do you really kill a zombie? I mean, they're already dead."
"I don't know." Honda flicked his gaze over there for a moment, then back to his cooking. "It's as good a word as any, I guess." Did it matter? Probably not. But sometimes you had to focus on the small things. Either that or go crazy. Not that he was all that certain of his own sanity anymore.
Malik shrugged and returned his gaze to the light and the blade. "He killed them to protect me." His eyes didn't leave his knife for a moment. "So when they killed him, I started to kill them. He was the first one…he would've wanted that. He told me he did when that one bit him. I took his head off and Isis and I ran and hid."
"I had to kill my nephew, Johji." Honda scooped the first of the pancakes onto a plate and began to prepare a second one. "The little son of a bitch tried to bite me after he killed my sister. I hated him but I didn't want to do it, either." Johji had been a foul-mouthed, lecherous brat from the day he'd come from the womb. But he'd still been family.
Malik slid his knife back into the sheath. "Killing them isn't going to bring back anyone. Not the right way."
"Doesn't mean we're going to stop." Honda spoke those words to the pancake as it sizzled before him. "Not killing them means we become them. I'm never going to be a zombie."
"Neither am I." Malik's words rang harder than the stone and steel that surrounded them.
Honda flipped the pancake, listening to the silence that fell after that. Other words teased at his lips but he said none of them. Not just yet. "What happened to your sister?" He thought he knew. If Malik didn't want to say, he wouldn't press him.
Malik was quiet for so long that Honda thought the other wasn't going to answer. "Two days ago, she went out trying to get some food. I found her on the steps coming back in. She was already dead. I think she was looking for me." If it were possible, his voice had lost even more emotion now. "I had to cut her head off."
He looked up as Honda set a plate and a cup in front of him. Honda didn't bother with words such as 'your sister wouldn't want you to mourn like this'. He didn't know the woman. How did he know what she would've wanted? What he knew was that they needed to eat and make sure they were able to survive another day.
Honda settled down in his own favorite chair, leaving the couch to Malik, his plate and cup on the table before him. He didn't bother with any kind of polite words but just started eating in silence. Malik joined him after a moment or two, having to pull his thoughts from the dark paths they walked down.
"This isn't bad," Malik said after he ate almost half of his food. "Did you cook a lot before?"
"Hardly ever. I bought a lot from fast food places or went to Bakura's place. He loved to cook." Honda picked at his food a little more; he'd had more of his than Malik had, but his appetite wasn't what it could have been. "He was really good at it, too. He wanted to have his own restaurant."
Honda's thoughts swirled through the past. "He loved things like this…zombies, vampires, all of that. If it was creepy and weird, he read about it or watched movies, anything he could get. If he hadn't become a zombie, he would've wanted to watch them in person, I know it." Suddenly what appetite he had died without a trace. "Jounouchi killed him, the second time. Jounouchi wanted to kill himself after that."
How many friends had he lost because of this? Numbers made no difference, because three simple words said it all: all of them.
Perhaps because Malik had opened up to him, he now wanted to open up in return. Or maybe it was just because he hadn't talked to someone in days and the sound of his voice echoing off the walls had finally gotten to him. It didn't matter.
"He didn't, though. Not until he went down to find his sister and saw her in the middle of a bunch of zombies. He didn't even kill himself then. He just stood there and let her do it for him." Honda's hands twitched. "I had to do it." He'd done it to both of them. Shizuka and Jounouchi would've wanted it that way. He told himself that every time he wondered if he'd done the right thing. It didn't help him sleep without nightmares, but he told himself nevertheless.
"Everything just went crazy after that." He kept on talking and Malik listened. "I stocked up on guns. I killed zombies. We all did. Sometimes they killed us, and I had to kill the ones who changed, so they wouldn't keep on killing us. That…that was my job." Someone had to do it, and he was the best shot of them all. To be killed by Honda meant you were dead and you weren't going to come back, ever.
Malik said the exact right thing: nothing at all. Honda touched his shotgun and breathed out. "I won't be a zombie because I'll blow my own damned brains out before I start eating other people. I've killed too many of them to want to be one of them."
He shuddered for a moment, thinking of what it would be like to feel one of those filthy mouths on himself. It would be so much worse if it were someone that he knew. Yuugi was still out there somewhere. So was Anzu. And Mai. And Otogi. He didn't know where, but they hunted and killed other people now. Eating them as they'd used to eat hamburgers.
He wasn't going to be a hamburger. Not now, not ever.
With another shudder, he stood up and grabbed his plate. "So, how long were you going to stick around?" Enough was enough. Time to move on to more lively topics.
"I hadn't decided yet." Malik brought his own plate and cup over to the sink. "I don't have anywhere to go. The last news reports said it was happening everywhere." He hesitated for a breath of a moment. "And I don't have any family left anymore."
Honda glanced at him again. "The couch folds out into a bed." He was glad of that; his own bed was barely big enough for him and the way he tossed and turned when the nightmares grew too much for him. He didn't think telling Malik to sleep on the floor would have gone over that well.
"Malik!" Honda aimed even as he called out his partner's name. Malik dropped where he was, flattening himself against the concrete, and covered his ears as Honda's shotgun blast finished off yet another zombie. He was on his feet a moment later, his knife out, and before Honda could get ready to kill another, had decapitated the last of the zombies in the area.
It took a few moments for them both to realize there were no more lurching undead around them. Malik caught his breath and wiped off his knife carefully on a clean rag. Honda checked his ammunition levels even as he took cautious steps toward Malik.
"We should get out of the city." Malik spoke without looking at him. "There's too many of them and not enough of us."
"And go where?" Honda asked, circling in an effort to be certain no more zombies were there. "I don't know the first damned thing about being a farmer, and neither do you."
"Anywhere that doesn't have zombies."
"That's not anywhere. They're all over, remember?" Honda finally came to a rest next to Malik and held back a sigh. "Do you want to try the radio again tonight?"
Malik gave no reply at first. Honda only caught the shaking of his head out of the corner of his eye. Three weeks of nothing and then something that could've been a signal, and then nothing again. For a month. He would've preferred that they hadn't heard anything at all.
Honda picked up the bag of supplies he'd dropped when the zombies came after them and slung it over his back. They were going to have to go somewhere, if only to find more food. "The stores are pretty picked over," he said as the two of them headed back toward Malik's bike. "We'll have to do something." He didn't think moving out to the country and trying to learn how to grow vegetables was the best idea, though.
"There are a few other towns we could try raiding." Malik's suggestion held a hint of listlessness. Honda didn't mention it. This wasn't living. This was barely surviving. Raiding grocery stores and the occasional house for food and shotgun shells and anything else that could blow a zombie's brains out was hardly the kind of life he'd expected when he'd graduated college.
Honda just nodded in reply though. "We'll have to do something." There were other survivors in the city. That was easy enough to figure out, given that some of the supplies vanished in between their trips to various places. They were no more intent on finding Honda and Malik than Honda and Malik were on finding them. Honda knew he could trust Malik. He couldn't know that about too many other people.
Trusting Malik. He wouldn't have thought that was possible before he'd met the guy. But Malik was at his back constantly, blade shimmering whenever he sliced through a zombie. He listened when Honda spoke about the others, not that he did so all that often, and told stories of his own past once in a while, of how he and Rishid and Isis had grown up in Egypt and what it was like there. Sometimes Honda wondered if Malik wanted to go back there and just didn't want to say it out loud. If the subject ever came up, his reaction was always the same.
I've got no one there. He never spoke of any relatives who weren't his sister and brother. Never of his parents. Never of any friends there. Honda had his suspicions about all of that, but kept his mouth shut.
Other thoughts liked to wander through his mind about Malik as well, in situations that didn't pertain to their relatives or killing zombies. Honda tried not to think them very often. Imagining what Malik looked like in the shower, for example, was much more distracting than anything short of a zombie bite to the face.
At least he wouldn't have to shoot himself for his fantasies about hot water sluicing over Malik's dark skin. Malik would probably just slice him open if he made any mentions of that. So he kept his mouth shut and his daydreams to himself. Daydreams were harmless, even if he'd never before thought about sex with a guy.
Sex with a guy. Sex with Malik. Damn it, I'm straight. He wanted to believe that. He thought about Miho. She'd had very sweet kisses, he recalled, and her hands in his were always warm. The scent of her hair and the shampoo she used rushed back to him with a single thought.
Malik's shampoo was apple, he recalled a heartbeat later. Not because of Malik's choice, but because that was what was at the drugstore when they'd 'gone shopping' there. He used the same bottle, for the same reason. It didn't stop him from associating it with Malik anyway. Probably because he had yet to be able to smell his own hair, but whenever Malik passed by him after a shower, he could smell that.
Honda tilted his head and tried not to listen to the sounds coming from the bathroom. Malik was indeed showering again, which gave rise to the normal daydreams flittering through his thoughts. Malik never came out until he was completely dressed. Honda had yet to thank him for that, and he wasn't sure if he ever would. If only because he would have to explain why he was doing it in the first place.
This was all wrong. Why couldn't he have run across a hot girl? He wouldn't have had any problems telling her that he thought she was hot. But right now, his body was telling him that it didn't give a shit what body parts Malik had. Honda wondered if his body had just been without sex for way too long.
Couldn't be. It's only been … Well, he truthfully didn't remember. Nine or ten months. Maybe a year. He and Miho had made love once or twice after everything went to hell, but after everything that happened, the memories faded a little, became dusty and wan.
He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch, trying not to think about anything in particular. His pants were a lot tighter than he liked to wear them and he knew the reason was showering right now. He's going to be a while. Malik always took long showers. At least they didn't have to worry about a water bill; when Kaiba built this place he'd made certain it was entirely self-sufficient, with water recycling facilities and its own miniature power plant.
If it weren't for the zombies, the hideout would've been paradise on Earth. But Honda supposed that he couldn't have everything.
Honda shifted around and tried to get comfortable. I should hit the artillery range. Like anything built by Kaiba, this place had holographs available, this one meant to help one with their targeting skills. Honda had put it to good use ever since he'd found it.
But he didn't move for it now. He could still hear the water running and his demented imagination didn't want to move off the image of Malik, water, and everything else that could follow from that. I should watch a porn movie or something. That was probably the only luxury item this place lacked: a good selection of porn. Well, Kaiba had built it after all.
Honda tried to think of anything that wasn't Malik. One would think that wasn't so difficult, given there was an entire world out there that wasn't Malik. But at the moment, none of that world wanted to co operate with his imagination. All he could see was blond hair, wicked violet eyes, and an expression that sent thrills all through him.
I'm going to be dead one day and it won't be because of the zombies, it'll be because I said something about this to him and he'll cut my head off. Both of them. If Honda were lucky, Malik would cut the head off his neck first.
Damn it. He might as well enjoy himself if he were going to think about Malik. What would it be like to have sex with a guy? He knew on some kind of level how it happened. He'd known a couple of gay guys at work. So one of them would have to be 'the top' and one 'the bottom'. He had no idea of how guys figured out which was which. Did Malik even know? Malik was probably straight, too. That was another reason he wasn't going to say anything to him.
Thinking about the mechanics of sex wasn't all that sexy. Blowjobs. Yeah, that would be better. He didn't have to worry about a top or a bottom. Just one mouth giving pleasure to someone else. He'd had them before, and he knew what he liked with them. Wonder if Malik could do that. The image of Malik's lips on him, those eyes peeking up at him with a mixture of sauciness and sexiness…
Honda groaned. If he kept thinking like that, he was going to open his mouth in front of Malik.
But he couldn't help himself. That same image returned, only stronger this time, and he bit his lip as hard as he could. He didn't want to keep thinking this, not with Malik as close as the bathroom. Yeah, like we're ever that far apart to start with. Staying close to one another was all that they could do in order to survive. Being apart meant they could get jumped by zombies or worse, by other survivors.
That was probably it, Honda decided. It wasn't like he loved the guy or anything. Hormones and being forced to live together like this. Yeah, that was it. That was all that it was, too. Whew. It was good to get that settled.
Realizing that didn't do a single thing for his libido, Honda realized a few seconds later. Maybe he'd just have to find a time when Malik was asleep or otherwise occupied and take care of the matter himself. Otherwise, he was going to end up in some kind of stupid porn situation and while he liked watching it, he'd rather not go through it.
It took him a moment to realize that something had changed. Then another to figure out what it was. The shower stopped. Malik would be coming out. He couldn't just lay here on the couch with as aroused as he was. I'm going to need a shower myself. A good cold one. He jumped to his feet and headed over to the kitchen. At least there, he could keep himself busy. It was almost dinnertime anyway and it was his turn to cook. Malik was a little better than he was in the kitchen, really, but Honda insisted that they take turns. This was a partnership.
Almost like a marriage. The memory of Jounouchi's teasing voice whispered in the back of his mind and he pretended it wasn't there. If it wasn't there, it hadn't said that, and he didn't have to think about it.
He caught sight of Malik as the other stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and a few stray droplets glittering on his arms. I can breathe. I can breathe.
Honda pushed his head into the refrigerator and stared at what was available to eat. He'd quit getting any kind of meat, mainly because he liked to cook for two people, not one person at a time, and since Malik wouldn't eat meat under any circumstances, it was just easier not to bother with it.
Good thing I found that vegetarian cookbook. He wondered why Kaiba had put one of those in there anyway. From what he knew, the CEO had enjoyed meat on a regular basis. Being richer than God made that easy, he guessed.
"Uh, what do you think about rice-stuffed tofu tonight?" He asked the refrigerator, lifting his voice enough so Malik could hear him.
"Sure." Honda frowned at the tone in Malik's voice and pulled back to look at him. Malik was on the couch, just where Honda had been minutes earlier, his eyes closed and head tilted back as if he were staring at the ceiling.
He didn't want to ask what was wrong. Malik talked when he wanted to talk. He turned back to dinner, now more concerned with Malik himself than with sex with Malik. It was easy to forget that they hadn't known each other long enough to really know each other. Not the way that he had known Jounouchi or Yuugi.
"My birthday's soon." Malik said without any warning. "Next month."
Honda blinked at that, but kept his attention still on his food. "Yeah, I remember." If that was the problem, he wasn't getting it. Was Malik upset because this was going to be his first one without his family?
"I hate my birthday." A quick glance showed Malik had rolled over onto his stomach and now glowered at an unoffending couch cushion. There was nothing of the petulance that those words might've held in them. Malik meant what he said with all of his heart. "Isis and Rishid used to make me forget about it, but now…"
Honda reacted on instinct. He walked over and sat down beside his friend. "What's so bad about your birthday?"
At first there was no reaction. Then Malik pulled his shirt up, without bothering to look up or change his expression in any way. As it rode higher, Honda forgot all about any lascivious thoughts that would have normally erupted in his mind. All of those died when he saw what was there.
He'd seen tattoos before. These were different. These were carvings, made by a hot knife. A few people he'd known when he was a kid had done things like this, but never like what he saw now.
"What the hell? Who did that to you?" Honda reached out to touch the smooth curve of Malik's back without thinking about it at all. Malik stiffened for a moment, but said nothing else for a few moments.
"My father." When he did, the nswer came from between clenched teeth. "When I was ten years old, he did that to me. It's a family tradition, or so he told me. No one even remembers why they do it anymore. Every firstborn male in the family has this same design carved on them when they're ten. I think it's supposed to be some kind of protection glyph, but I don't really know." He drew in a breath. "When I was fifteen, I made up my mind. I wasn't ever going to have any children. I wouldn't do this to them, no matter what."
There was a heavy sort of silence in the air between them. Honda's hand lay on Malik's back still. He couldn't believe how smooth that dark skin was. Without realizing what he did, he moved his hand up Malik's back to touch his shoulders, avoiding the scars deftly.
"Anyone who'd do this to their kid is a bastard." Honda murmured. He wanted to ask more questions, to know how it was done, why no one had ever stopped it, why hadn't anyone else cared, but all of those questions faded as he explored Malik's bare back with his fingertips. He didn't let himself think anymore.
"I've gotten used to them." Malik's fingers clutched at the couch cushions. "They usually don't bother me, but around this time of the year, I can't help it."
Honda wished at times that he'd had a proper sense of humor. He just never seemed to be able to say the right things that would ease up a situation. He scrambled about in his mind, trying to figure out what would put Malik at his ease. "So, I guess you use a lot of birth control, if you're not going to have any kids?"
That sucked. That really, really sucked.
Malik tilted his head back to look at him, and was he smiling? He couldn't be. Unless it was at how stupid the question was. "No. I just don't have sex with women."
Honda's brain screeched to a stop. He circled what Malik had just said from every angle and tried to make it make sense. "You what?" He wasn't having a lot of luck with it.
"I don't have sex with women. I could, I guess, but I'm not going to take the chance. I know I could just choose not to put the markings there, but I don't even want the chance to come up." He shrugged. "Besides, this world's hell on Earth now. Who'd want to have a kid?"
Honda swallowed and tried to look as if he had a functioning brain cell. "I guess you're right. I hadn't even thought about it like that." He leaned back, lifting his hands from Malik's back, though every part of him wanted to touch even more, to see what the rest of Malik was like. He tried to tell himself (one particular part of himself) to calm down and behave. Nothing was listening.
He hadn't moved back as far as he wanted to when a slender hand seized around his wrist. He hadn't imagined how strong Malik had to be, not in any real sense. He knew that the strength was there, he'd seen the man cut off zombie heads before, but to feel it being used on him was something new altogether.
Malik pulled him closer, sitting up himself as he did, his shirt falling back down. Those violet eyes burned with a light Honda hadn't ever seen before.
Honda hadn't had a kiss in going on a year. The one Malik planted on his lips now burned and seared, even as Malik pressed closer to him. Honda sat stunned at first, not sure if responding was necessary, or even possible. Just as Malik began to pull away, he came to a decision and began to kiss back.
When they finally broke apart, Malik still stared at him with those exotic eyes of his. He said nothing at all, just watched Honda for a few seconds, before he placed one hand firmly on the brunet's crotch. Honda didn't have time to blush. Nor did he have the blood to do it with, since all of said blood rushed at once down there.
It was just as well, Honda decided, that he wasn't sure about what to say. Talking would've just ruined it all. Malik wanted this. He wanted this. So they were going to have it. There were no other reasons necessary.
Malik worked on removing Honda's pants, and with Honda's help, they were gone in moments, tossed casually over toward the chair, followed by his boxers a few seconds later. Malik looked him up and down, a hint of a smile on his lips, before he swooped forward. Honda's hands clutched at the cushions in his own turn now. Malik's tongue traced across Honda's skin, and his eyes peeked up at Honda just as they had in Honda's fantasies, only this was real and it wasn't going to stop any time soon.
His heart raced with every moment that Malik touched him, fingertips trailing down his thighs, tongue lazily tracing across other parts of his anatomy, his chest pressing against Honda's lower legs. Where had that shirt gone? Honda didn't remember taking it off, but it was on the far side of the room nevertheless.
Warmth enclosed him and Honda's eyes closed, wanting to experience this to the fullest. The fact it was another man no longer meant anything. Two bodies, closer and closer with each moment, bringing life and pleasure in a world of death and pain. That was what mattered and Honda surrendered to it at last without a single moment of regret.
Up and down, little flicks of a hot tongue across his flesh, brief moments of air that was much colder than it had been moments earlier. Puffs of warmth from Malik's mouth teased him and he arched upward, brought to his peak much sooner than he had ever been before.
It could have been moments, minutes, or hours later when his head cleared and he saw Malik still there before him, that smile not having changed a bit. If it weren't for the fact they were both nude, he might have thought it was all a dream. Malik smiled at him, a slow and rich expression that Honda hadn't seen before.
"Is that all you want?" The question confused Honda at first, until he recalled what else he knew about gay sex. It also helped that Malik held up a tube a moment later, one eyebrow quirked a bit, and everything clicked in Honda's brain.
"Um…so…" How in the hell did gay people ask this kind of thing? "Yeah?" He did; that one blowjob had only piqued his interest and his appetite. He thought some of his blood had returned enough to the higher portions of his body so he could blush now.
"Good." Malik unscrewed the tube, Honda watching every step of the way. "I hope you don't mind it like this." Honda blinked, wondering what he was talking about, until yet again there was that click, made clearer as Malik continued what he was doing. His eyes widened with the sensations Malik's touch sent through him, but there was nothing to complain about at all. There was no doubt that Malik knew exactly what he was doing. That made at least one of them, in Honda's opinion, and that was better than no one.
Malik stood up and Honda realized in some level, this was just like what had happened with him and that girl back in high school, the one he'd dated before Miho. This was his first time, like this at any rate.
It was different, for many reasons, and he didn't waste his time analyzing them, any more than he'd thought about what he felt that other first time. Malik pressed into him, his arms went around Malik, and he kissed him, wanting all of the warmth and all of the life that came with Malik Ishtar, wanting to share with him all that was Honda Hiroto. Two lives that might never have met, if it weren't for the undead.
Not that he was going to thank them or anything.
Every moment increased the boiling spiral of pleasure that tightened within his chest and he reached shamelessly for that moment of rapture. He hadn't been quite satisfied with the first experience and he wanted it again, wanted to know that Malik reached it with him, and this would have to be the first time of many, because he could think of so much else that they could do together. He didn't know if he'd remember it all once this was over, but who cared? This was now, not then.
He didn't know what he cried out when that moment struck. It might've been Malik's name. He doubted it was Miho's, given how closely Malik still clung to him afterward. All he knew was that both of them were noisy, and the two voices wove into one, echoing back from the walls.
"My bed's big enough for two," Honda murmured some time later, after a shower that led to exploring one another in even more ways. Finding out that Malik had been taking cold showers for a month to stave off the same sort of thoughts that Honda himself entertained led to even more. There wasn't any reason to hold back anymore, now that they'd taken those first steps.
"Good. Because that couch isn't." Malik wrapped one arm around Honda and led him from the bathroom to the bed. It was the beginning of a very long night.
"Honda!" Malik slammed into the zombie that was bare inches from sinking its fingers into his lover's back. He stepped back enough to get room to swing his arm and sliced the undead monstrosity's head off in a single blow. He was good at it. Too good. Too much practice.
No more zombies. None he could see, anyway, and none he could hear. Time to check on his partner. "Honda, you all right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." Honda breathed heavily as he straightened up and picked up his shotgun from where he'd dropped it moments earlier. Two other zombies had hit him hard and he'd been lucky enough that they hadn't bitten him then. Malik's knife had seen hard work that day.
He brushed himself off and glanced at Malik. The other was dirty, worn out, and had a streak of blood going down his cheek from where he'd taken cover and slammed his head against a rock. Honda didn't think he'd ever looked better. "Ready to go home?" Cleaning up was the most entertaining part of returning from a food raid in Honda's opinion, at least in the last two months.
"I can hardly wait." Malik cleaned his knife and was about to slam it back in the sheath when a zombie groaned, the sound far too close. Honda whirled, his gun coming up, and froze in his tracks, his mouth suddenly dry, and his heart frozen.
"Y…Yuugi?" It couldn't be. But there he was all the same. Clothes tattered, skin gray, half of his distinctive hair fallen out, his eyes glazed and semi-unseeing in the way that all zombies were.
But it was Yuugi.
"Honda!" Malik shouted at him, shoving him with one hand. "It's a zombie! It's not your friend!" He'd heard Honda talk about Yuugi before, and the others. He'd even heard of Yuugi himself; everyone in the old days had known about the talented duelist. Seeing him now wasn't all that impressive, though. Especially when Honda was frozen and staring in shock.
Honda wanted to move. He wanted to fire the gun and see the zombie's brains splatter against concrete and know that he was safe again, that he'd protected himself and Malik and life would go on.
But it was Yuugi.
He couldn't move a muscle and the zombie…Yuugi moved even more quickly than Malik, sinking his teeth into Honda's arm. Pain shot all through him, snapping him out of his shock, but he still couldn't get his gun up. His bitten arm was the one he used for that, and the pain was worse than he'd ever thought it was before. No wonder people tended to kill themselves after a zombie bite!
Malik's knife came out again, and Honda could only watch in shock as Yuugi's head went sailing across the street, vanishing into a dark ally. Honda held his arm and stared down at the wound, not believing his eyes. How had it happened like this? It shouldn't have. This just wasn't right.
"Honda." Malik stared down at the bite mark, his hand shaking as it never had before. "He got you."
"I know." Honda dealt in reality, whether he wanted to or not, as the shock began to ease. "I'm dead, Malik." Words he'd never thought he would say. Almost as unbelievable as 'there are zombies walking the streets' or 'I'm having gay fantasies about my partner' or 'I love you, Malik Ishtar'.
But all of those had happened. And so had this.
He swallowed once or twice. "Finish it for me, Malik." He couldn't let himself hurt someone else. He hadn't wanted to let any of his friends hurt someone else. That was what they'd all trusted him to do and until now, he'd always done it. Sorry about that, Yuugi. Yuugi, of all people, wouldn't have wanted to hurt someone like this. He'd have to find a way to apologize someday.
Maybe just dying clean would do it. As clean as he could, anyway.
Malik stood before him, knife in his hands. A thousand words they'd never said (like that I love you, always in his mind, never on his lips) ghosted between them. Malik didn't argue. He wrapped his arms around Honda and held him as close as he could before he touched their lips together one last time.
The knife in Honda's back was sharp, piercing through to his vitals, sliding through the ribs. Malik was as good at what he did as Honda was. There was brightness and there was shadow. Then there was nothing.
Malik waited until he could feel no more life beating within Honda before he cut the other's head off. It was over. So much was over. Only minutes before they'd both been thinking about going home and having a shower and sex. Now he was alone. Honda lay at his feet, dead twice over. His hands shook and he wanted to drop his knife, to find a zombie and end it for himself once and for all.
Not like that. He couldn't do it like that. He stared at the knife. How it gleamed in the sunlight. So sharp, so clean, just as it had been the day he'd taken it from their home. An ancestral weapon, his father had said. The same knife that had carved the marks onto his back. A holy ritual going back to the time of the Pharaohs, his father said. What a bunch of bullshit.
Honda hadn't cared about the scars. Everyone else had. Even Isis and Rishid had. The few other lovers he'd had, all of them had in some fashion or other. Only Honda was different.
Malik was much stronger than he looked to the naked eye. He picked up Honda's body and head and carried them back to the hideout. He had to stop along the way a few times; despite how strong he was, Honda's body was long and inconvenient to carry. But he did it anyway.
He entered the hideout and placed Honda on the bed, setting the other's head on his neck. He looked almost alive. If it hadn't been for the blood and the bite on his arm, Malik might've let himself believe that. For a few minutes, anyway.
This was just the beginning. He had to do it right. First, he disabled all of the fire extinguishing gear in the hideout. Whoever had built it hadn't wanted it to burn down. Too bad. Malik did. Then he took a hot shower, cleaning himself from top to bottom, washing away Honda's blood. He'd have more of it soon anyway.
He wondered if he'd lost his mind, doing all of this. Then he decided he didn't care if he had or not. What would he have done with his sanity anyway? What use did any of it have now? The world was dead. It was time he joined it.
Once he was out of the shower and dressed, he went into the kitchen and turned all the burners to their highest setting. He set out several pieces of paper on the burners and watched until they caught fire. It was a baby blaze, but it would grow up soon. There would be nothing left of the two of them once the adult fire did its work.
Malik joined Honda on the bed, the bed that they'd shared for two months. He played with his knife for one final time. "I love you, Honda Hiroto." He spoke the words he knew he should have before, words he hoped Honda heard and shared somehow. He ran one hand across the spike of Honda's hair. He'd never asked why Honda styled his hair like that. There was so much that he hadn't ever asked, that he'd thought they would have time together for him to learn.
There was never time, he knew that now. Never enough time, anyway. Even if he'd asked that, there would have been so much he hadn't asked. Now the time for questions was over.
He held the knife over his stomach and stabbed. As much as it hurt, it paled next to what he'd had to do to Honda. He jerked upward; he wanted to be certain that he died, and this was the best way he could think of. He could've used the shotgun, but the knife was better. The knife was always better.
But he wasn't finished. He couldn't leave it like that. He pulled the blade from his stomach, now rich with blood, and lifted it closer. Did he have the strength for this? I have to. For Honda. Honda wouldn't want him to suffer like this. Honda would've finished him cleanly, just as he'd done for Honda.
Another strike. He screamed this time as the knife penetrated his eye and half the world went black. That would do it. His hand fell, striking against Honda's, and he clasped the dead hand without even thinking about it.
From the eye that could still see, he caught a glimpse of flickering flames. Malik smiled and closed his eye.
Maybe the next time we meet, he won't start off pointing a shotgun at me.
The End