I don't own L4D2. Comment if you want me to continue this story...I am finding it hard to get motivated these days :/ But aren't Nick and Ellis just so cute?

Oh, he woke him up, alright. Nick was jolted out of sleep by the soft thud of a body against his. He remembered: Ellis was keeping watch, they were stranded during the storm and now his head was throbbing. And in the jumbled thoughts of sleep, Nick imagined Ellis throwing himself at him, their bodies coming together with fear and merging with lust. He thought he could feel something gentler behind the sudden crash, a hidden caress in the dark of the room. But the shouts of a freaked-out Ellis broke him of his unwanted reverie.

"Get down, get down, get down!" Ellis had not lovingly joined him in bed—instead he had forcefully tackled a sleeping Nick onto the floor, bringing the thin blanket and tattered pillow with him.

Nick would have to sort out his sleepy desires later. "Jesus kid, that's no way to wake a guy!"

Instead of responding, Ellis pulled the blanket over them and shoved Nick against the wall, his body hovering over the older man like a shield. Wincing above him, Ellis put a single finger to Nick's lips and let out a pained hiss in place of a shush. The close contact caused his cock to get painfully hard within seconds, and Nick struggled to move away so that the boy on top of him wouldn't notice. It had been way too long since he'd last gotten off and the sudden presence of another body was enough to get him going. He'd have to fix that, and soon.

"What the hell—" Nick's words were cut off by a sudden hand over his mouth. There was the soft sound of something burning and the smell of acid in the silence between them. Nick kept quiet, but the friction from Ellis's body above him was heating up his insides in ways he didn't want to admit. Ellis's body was soft, almost like a woman. No, no. Not like a woman. Nothing like a woman. Don't think of sex…but despite his tries, Nick's hard-on tented his trousers, and he was sure that Ellis could feel his erection against his thigh. It was mortifying.

Finally, Ellis peeked out from the blanket and looked around him. When he let out a sigh of relief, a disgruntled and confused Nick shoved the protective body off of him.

Picking himself off the floor, Ellis ignored the shove and held out a hand to help Nick up. Which he promptly swatted away before pushing himself back up to the bed. The throbbing in his body had re-awakened with the rough treatment, and he had no patience for the boy. Not to mention how he couldn't stand for Ellis to spot the blush spreading like a wildfire across his face.

"Sorry, Nick. A spitter saw me at the window and hocked a monster loogie up here. Look," a finger pointed at where he had been sleeping only moments ago. The sheet looked eaten through as if by years of moths and the mattress seemed to be missing hunks of fabric. "Lucky ya didn't get any goo on your suit, eh Nick," the boy chuckled.

The blanket that Ellis had thrown over them had a few big holes in it as well, and when Ellis turned around to hang what was left of it over the window, Nick saw that the acid had eaten through the back of his shirt in several places, leaving a few raw-looking burn marks behind.

Ellis had thrown himself between the acid and Nick's sleeping body, taking a hit for the injured man.

Goddamn this kid. What on God's green earth was going on in that ball-capped head of his? Why would he risk his own neck—twice—for a man who was practically a stranger to him? Better yet, who berated him at every opportunity? This redneck was either too dumb for words or a fucking saint.

Ellis handed him a bottle of water with a goofy grin. For some reason it bothered Nick. How the hell did that kid keep smiling all the damn time? The way Ellis acted, you'd think they weren't trapped in a nearly indefensible building, wounded, surrounded by zombies, and running out of ammo.

It made Nick want to wipe any trace of that smile off his face. Made him want to beat it out of him, bring that grinning fool down to his level and drag his pretty little ass through the mud. But maybe Nick was just so miserable himself that he couldn't stand to see someone else so happy all the time. And did he just think the word 'pretty' in relation to Ellis's ass?

"You might want me to check out that burn on your back, kid. Looks like she got you good."

Ellis just laughed it off. "You're startin to sound like my dad. 'El, stop dickin around! El, that machete ain't a toy! El, your leg's bleedin, son. Put a Band-Aid on that shit!' Next thing I know, you'll be wrestlin gators and borrowing my truck to go muddin..."

"Ellis…that made no sense. Now take off your shirt and let me get a look at you." That came out wrong, somehow. But now the tables were turned—Ellis was injured and it was Nick's turn to take care of him. He hated being in someone's debt. And the thought of being indebted to Ellis was especially sickening.

Frowning, Ellis turned his back to Nick and shrugged his t-shirt off. When he reached out, Nick could feel the heat coming off of the younger man's golden skin. Seriously, after days and days of trekking through swamplands and fiery buildings, how the hell did this kid's skin glow like that? Like it was battery-powered or some shit.

Ok Nick, calm down. He's just another guy. Nothing to get all excited about.

But no matter what Nick said to himself, he knew that the body in front of him was not that of just another guy. Where Nick's own body was thick and square, Ellis was slim and slightly curved. The swell of his hip as it dipped sensuously into his jeans was almost feminine. Nick found himself wondering how that soft body would feel against his hardened form.

Shoving aside the inappropriate thoughts as they surfaced, Nick examined the wound. It wasn't so bad that it wouldn't heal on its own, but it must've hurt like hell. The med kits had been mostly emptied to patch up Nick, but there was some burn ointment left over.

"So…can I put my shirt back on now?" Ellis fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with the attention.

"Hold on there, overalls. I'm not done yet." He unscrewed the top of the salve and dipped his fingers in. "Now, this might sting a bit…" With that, he slathered the cream onto the burned skin in slow strokes, actually enjoying the skin-to-skin contact.

There was an immediate intake of breath, and Ellis shuddered visibly. The feeling of muscles clenching under his fingers made Nick go hard once more. Without realizing what he was doing, Nick took a step closer to the boy's golden body and leaned in close to Ellis's neck, breathing in his scent. Like dark, loamy soil and the sweet smell of sweat. Ellis either didn't notice or didn't mind.

"Hey, are you about done? That stuff really stings," Ellis said in an uncharacteristically timid voice. Nick pulled back in shock and finished rubbing the burn ointment in.

"All done, kid. Better let it dry before you put your shirt back on though." What am I saying? If he doesn't put some clothes on, I'm going to go crazy. And why's he being shy all the sudden? We're both men. Men. Who are interested in women, goddammit.

"Okay."

And there it was again. That bowed-head kind of bullshit. Like Nick was the fucking Pope, or something. Why did the kid always have to roll over like that?

They sat down on opposite sides of the bed, each facing away from the other, staring blankly at the walls. The awkward silence between them grew tangible. The lack of ongoing commentary was unnerving. Without all the pointless hicktalk, the slow, heaving sound of death permeated the small room. The groans and tragic shufflings of the infected rang in his ears, and all Nick could think was that Ellis must have noticed his erection earlier and was weirded out by it. He cursed himself for not taking the time to relieve himself more often to avoid situations like this.

Finally, the bed shifted under Ellis's weight as the shirtless, shining Southerner turned to say goodnight to Nick.

"Yeah, I guess it's your turn to get some shut-eye before…" Before what? Nick didn't know how to finish his sentence. Before they ventured back out into the fray, injured and low on ammo, hoping to blindly stumble into the next safe room.

Nick stood up and quietly picked up his gun and went to sit in the chair by the window to keep watch. When Ellis started snoring, Nick decided it was safe to fix his problem from earlier. Surely once he had a good yank he wouldn't be thinking such inappropriate thoughts around the boy anymore.

But even as he whipped his dick out and spit into his fist, he knew something wasn't right. Every big-breasted blonde would suddenly break into a southern drawl and don a trucker hat. Every sexy secretary or desperate schoolteacher would morph into a greasy, grinning mechanic…

Fucking A—even my fantasies think I'm gay now. It didn't help that Ellis was sprawled out on the bed shirtless, lips slightly parted in sleep. The rip in the makeshift curtains let through a thin knife of moonlight, the jagged edges highlighting the slight scruff along his jaw. The slow rise and fall of his smooth, tanned chest had a hypnotic effect: Nick couldn't look away. Maybe it was the loss of blood, or a trick of the moonlight. But hell, the zombie apocalypse is no time to be picky.

So Nick let the fantasies ripen. It started out shy and slow, with Ellis nibbling on his perfect pink lips and slipping a slow hand down his jeans. But it wasn't long before Nick was imagining Ellis on all fours, clawing at the ragged bed sheets, screaming his name. Nick picked up his pace, his own body tensing, readying for release. As the pressure built, the body on the bed groaned and rolled onto his stomach, overall straps catching underneath him, pulling his jeans further down his ass. That ass…it was practically calling Nick's name.

His instincts were telling him to place it all on the next bet, and Nick never could resist giving that roulette one more lucky spin.