It didn't take much convincing for the rest of the group to allow Sal to stay, most were generous people who saw more fault in kicking out a helpless sick kid, so he was allowed with the one rule that he couldn't wear his prosthetic inside. He would've been upset but his mind was confused with a fever. Sal had been in bed since he arrived, his illness only seeming to get worse.
Larry spent a lot of time with him, risking getting sick himself, but at least he wasn't outside. According to Lisa, Larry would just leave sometimes, it made everyone mad and worried, then when he returned he would act like it was nothing. He'd done that the day Sal was basically stuck in a fever dream and couldn't really properly wake up, the brunette had returned with a proper hairbrush and hair ties for Sal.
Sal wanted to be pissed at Larry for that, for going out for something so stupid, but he didn't have the energy. Either way, Travis' dad was pissed enough for the whole group, Sal had heard the man's yelling from bed and Larry later told him that he'd argued with Lisa and the rest of the group until he was allowed to pretty much lock Larry in for the next two weeks. As much as Larry hated the punishment, Sal was sort of relieved.
Larry was really the only one Sal had gotten to know in the group, besides Lisa. He had met some of the other teenagers there, pretty much only the other boys that shared the room with them, but he's never talked to them more than just boring small talk. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was the fact that Larry had saved him but Sal just felt really attached to the brunette, who seemed equally as attached to the blue-haired teen.
Sal was currently sat up in bed, a bin between his legs in which he used to puke up his guts into. Food didn't stay down, but that didn't stop Larry from feeding him, he couldn't even keep water in his body, it seemed. He felt light headed and small, he was sure his bones pressed out against his skin at this point to show his malnutrition. He was confident that he looked two steps away from death, as that's exactly how he felt.
He retched as the door opened, the sound of it squeaking being blotted out by Sal's body trying to force everything out of his stomach, though nothing was left to come up. A blood-shot, blue eye slowly rose to stare into worried brown ones. Larry held a bowl of stew, comprised of pretty much anything the group could scrounge together.
"I've already had my serving." Sal spoke up only when the brunette tried to hand him the bowl, gesturing with his eye down to the bin he clutched with pale hands. His voice was scratchy from the abuse the retching did to his throat.
"It's mine." Larry states simply, sitting down on the bed and crinkling his nose at the putrid smell of stomach acid. The bowl was placed into Sal's hands, Larry having to pull on one of his wrists to get him to stop clutching the bin.
"I'm not eating your food." Sal almost laughed, but the action caused a wave of nausea, making the teen shut his mouth and focus on his breathing. "Look at you." He eventually looked up again, poking at Larry's chest, the baggy t-shirt not doing much to hide how skinny he was. The bowl was placed on the edge of the bed, it wasn't filled much, they didn't have much to split up among the group, so there was no fear of it spilling.
"Look at you." The brunette's eyes flashed with irritation, but it was clouded with worry again soon. The shorter looked like purely skin and bone, he was pale, his eye tired and bloodshot, not to mention the very prominent bags under them. Chapped lips were almost always bleeding due to constant biting, his nails not doing much better, everything mixed with the scars across his face and body made him seem already dead and transformed into one of those things.
"Just a few bites, I'll eat the rest, you just need to eat something and keep it down." The bowl was in Larry's hands again quickly and he moved the bin to the floor with a somewhat grossed out look. "Eat!" pushing the bowl into his friend's hands, Larry stood, going to grab his bag where he kept all his, and now Sal's, things.
Sal didn't protest anymore, savouring the warm feeling of the stew on his damaged throat, thankfully able to eat a couple of spoonfuls without a bout of nausea. Larry returned with medicine, stronger stuff than what Sal had been taking before, and traded them for the bowl. The brunette didn't think twice before eating what remained and the shorter was still baffled he didn't think about himself catching this illness.
"It feels so cramped in here, don't ya think? I can't wait until you're better and I can take you out, there's a liquor store down the road that's still got a surprising stash, not to mention all the useable cigarettes under the counter. Most places ha—"
"I don't think you should be going out at all, it's dangerous, you could get hurt, it's not safe."
Larry just scoffed, suddenly irritated. "What the hell do you know?"
"Larry, I was out there for weeks! My group was attacked, my friends were eaten!" He regretted raising his voice, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as to not vomit but that didn't stop the look that shown brightly in his eye.
"But I know how to defend myself, unlike you! I can shoot a gun and swing a hatchet. I've got the strength to push a zombie off me if it gets too close!" Larry simply returned the look, crossing his arms like an upset child.
"Please don't call them that!" Sal's mood changed quickly and he suddenly looked fearful, which caused Larry's look to soften a bit. "This isn't some comic book, zombie sounds so stupid. Zombies aren't supposed to be real!" Larry shifted so he was sitting beside Sal, who didn't hesitate to lean against the brunette, the position helping to ward off any nausea.
They sat like that for a while, no words spoken between them, the only sound being Sal's occasional coughing and echos from other parts of the building. Sal felt it harder to keep his eyes open, his exhaustion catching up with him, but he really didn't want to sleep.
"You're gonna get sick, too." It was the first thing that came to mind, he wasn't even sure if he had said it as his head felt fuzzy.
"Nah, I don't get sick, I'm good."
"That's not how your body works, Lar."
"It's my body, it works however the fuck I want it to work." Larry let out a short laugh, seemingly at himself while Sal just sighed in response. The shorter teen shifted to be facing the brunette, basically ending up in the other's lap but his foggy mind didn't seem to comprehend that.
"I don't wanna get you sick." He placed his hands on the brunette's chest, messing with a few strands of his long hair which was currently down and messy.
"You won't." Larry didn't seem to mind the close proximity, resting his hands on the younger boy's waist, pulling him the slightest bit closer.
"What if I get you sick and then we both die? What if I die and turn and hurt you? What if I get better but you get sick and then you die and then you turn into a monster?"
"Then you shoot me in the head." The bluenette's eyes widened and he gripped onto the fabric of Larry's shirt, bunching it together in his clammy grip.
"I-I couldn't do that." His voice was much quieter now like if he spoke about the topic too loudly it'd all be real.
Larry moved a hand from Sal's waist to his cheek, running the pad of his thumb over the scars that littered his face. "I'll make sure you don't have to." He matched Sal's quiet tone, but he seemed much calmer and confident in his words. He brought their faces closer together, stopping before their noses bumped together. "Do you think you're gonna throw up again?"
"No..." Sal's reply was almost inaudible, he was too focused on staring into the brown eyes in front of him.
Before he could think, their lips were together and his eyes were closed. His stomach seemed to explode with butterflies and it was a good contrast to nausea he experienced earlier which seemed to be wiped completely away. The kiss was messy, both boys being inexperienced teens, but that did nothing to buffer the feeling it left them both with. A heat across their bodies that only intensified with each movement and touch.
But all good things must come to the end, and the universe decided the perfect way to end this was for a certain asshole blonde to swing open the door, angrily shouting about something.
The two boys jumped away from each other at the noise, turning to meet Travis' wide eyes. The blonde stammered, pointing between the two as he tried to understand exactly what he'd walked in on and seemingly just to make the awkward moment perfect, a wave of nausea came over Sal. He quickly jumped to the end of the bed, grabbing the bin and emptying his stomach once again.
