As always, thank you guys for your reviews! I've gotten some great ones so far, you guys are awesome! :D
Things get a little steamy in this chapter, I hope I pulled it off okay. I, for one, am a big fan of Hunter Ellis doing naughty things, but I'm not sure what that says about me...
From then on, Ellis came and went as he pleased. It was clear that they were in no danger from him (though the safety of any future passerby couldn't be guaranteed) and so the days of tranquilizers and locked steel doors were behind him, behind them all. Instead, Ellis bounded free around the school and its outlying areas, sometimes sticking beside his former teammates, but more often than not, wandering off on his own.
He'd become especially fond of climbing up onto school's roof, and sometimes, when the sun was sinking and the sky orange, Nick could see the boy's form, black and still, hunched like a gargoyle on the eaves. Watching, Nick presumed, for any more danger like the kind that had arrived in the Hummer that day.
But the unexpected attack had brought along blessings, the foremost being their re-established closeness with their former teammate. The second blessing was the abundance of food they'd found in the vehicle. The third blessing came in glass bottles; alcohol, and lots of it. They had found it stashed in the back, cases of beer, vodka and rum. Coach had let out a triumphant whoop and hauled out a large glass of Smirnoff, with Ellis at his side, sniffing and pawing at the gleaming bottle in curiosity.
Of course, common sense dictated it was never a good idea to get drunk in the middle of the apocalypse, but they felt safe within the confines of the school, and hadn't seen a single zombie (Ellis aside) in weeks.
So one midnight two days or so after the attack found Coach, Rochelle and Nick gathered at their favorite spot in the cafeteria, completely shitfaced and loving every second of it. Coach belted out lines from a Midnight Riders song in his mighty voice while Nick and Rochelle held their stomachs and laughed until they hurt. Ellis sat on the plastic tabletop, watching restlessly. He caught a whiff of the beer Rochelle was drinking and leaned forward, snapping at the rim of the bottle.
"Hey!" Rochelle jerked back in an exaggerated motion, almost falling off of the stool in surprise. Nick sniggered.
"Aw, let Overalls have some, it ain't gonna hurt him," he slung his free hand forward to rub Ellis' back. Ellis briefly closed his eyes and let out a content sigh at the touch.
Coach gave Nick a half-wary eye that seemed to imply he wasn't all for the suggestion, but he was much too drunk to follow up on it. Instead he started on another Midnight Riders song in between sour mouthfuls of vodka from a plastic cup.
Rochelle stood, unsteady, and grabbed a shallow bowl from another table before setting it down in front of Ellis. She then took hold of the rum bottle and poured a good bit in the dish. Ellis slunk forward, sniffing at the strange liquid before practically diving in and lapping it up. The other three watched and chuckled and felt a little guilty; the whole thing was akin to giving alcohol to your dog during a party to see if it'd get drunk. But Ellis seemed to love it and finished the first bowlful quickly, whining and growling at Rochelle to give him more. And she couldn't help but oblige, as drunk as she was and as much as she cared for him.
What seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than one or two, passed, and Coach had since fallen asleep, his head resting on his heavy arms and Rochelle, though tired, refused to go to bed and opted to stay in the cafeteria, insistent that something might happen to Coach if he were left alone. Nick shrugged.
"All right, but I'm sleeping in a goddamn bed," he stood, one last beer in his hand, and tried to walk as composed as he could to the doorway. Ellis sprung off the table and followed, bounding alongside him in unsteady pounces. Rochelle grumbled something and slumped down across from Coach, resting her own head on the table.
Nick led Ellis out the double doors and into the hallway, toward the room they'd all been sharing. His vision was blurry and he was having trouble walking, but Ellis seemed to be doing worse. His coordination was way off, and once or twice he lost his footing after a jump and fell in a tangle of limbs on the linoleum floor. Nick just snorted and grinned and helped him up, and Ellis looked at him with those still-human eyes, bleary and indignant but grateful.
And at last they made it to the room. Nick sat down heavily on his cot, watching the boy come in after him. Ellis swayed and blinked heavy-lidded eyes, almost colliding into the wall before falling down on his side with an abrupt yelp. Nick laughed and his vision swam with the effort; he lounged back against his pillow as Ellis made to get up. Nick continued his chuckling, almost-empty bottle loose in his hand, and Ellis schlepped forward carefully, head tilted to the side.
Whenever Nick laughed was whenever Ellis took the most interest in him. He'd stay by the conman's side, speak in his strange little growls, or simply bare his teeth in an effort to grin, and the thought that Ellis might still be Ellis made Nick happier than he'd been in some time.
"Hey, El," he slurred, setting a heavy hand down on Ellis' head as the boy rested his chin on the edge of the cot, "hey, c'mere."
He moved his hand and patted the edge of the cot, scooting over as far as he could to allow Ellis on. Ellis needed no further encouragement; he hopped up on the mattress and proceeded to spread himself over Nick, despite the room the gambler had made for him. Nick rolled his eyes and took another sip.
"That's just like you. Try to give us both a little room and you close the distance like there's no such thing as fucking personal space," he tilted the bottle toward Ellis, who gave the top a lick. Nick put his free arm around Ellis, rubbing the boy's strong back. Ellis stuck his tongue down the neck of the bottle and Nick pulled it away a little too hard, accidentally sending it crashing onto the floor. They both glanced to the side at the spilled beer in contrition.
"It was almost empty anyway," Nick sighed, and Ellis leaned forward to lick the fond taste of beer off Nick's lips. Nick laughed again and Ellis, fueled by the noise and the alcohol, snuggled in closer to the older man, nipping at his bottom lip. Nick brought his hands to Ellis' face and rubbed the pale cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, murmuring, "you remember kissing, El?"
He leaned forward and planted a gentle, drunken kiss on Ellis' lips. Ellis didn't seem to remember, but enjoyed the action nevertheless; he purred and brought his hands up to Nick's shoulders, gently digging his claws against the clothed flesh in short, timed pulses, like a cat would do. Nick kissed him again, enjoying the familiar feel of the southerner's plump lips against his own. Ellis licked at Nick's lips again and squirmed slightly, sinking into him.
Nick smiled, and gave the boy's hair a loving stroke before he shut his eyelids and began to let sleep take him over. Ellis was warm and heavy and comforting against him, and only dimly did Nick register the small sounds Ellis was making, the increasing writhes of the boy's body against his own.
And before long, his eyes snapped open because he finally realized that Ellis was rutting against him, panting and hissing as their crotches rubbed together through their clothing. His claws gripped Nick's shoulders tightly, his eyes shut and his pale face tinged with red as he moved, pure instinct and inebriation.
"Shit...El," Nick made to push him away but Ellis wouldn't have it. He increased the pressure of his hips against Nick's, forcing he older man's legs apart with his powerful thighs. Nick gave an unwilling moan at the contact, Ellis' erection evident against his own hardening length.
Nick was sober enough to realize that he was being dry-humped by a zombie, but just drunk enough not to put and end to it. The warm pleasure pounding through his body made it even more difficult to be concerned, especially when Ellis' pace quickened and he gave a groan of ecstasy that was like the ones Nick had heard so many times before. Nick moaned and arched his back, hooking a leg around the boy's waist and pressing against him until they were a single entity, moving in time, hot and sweaty and gripping at each other like nothing mattered anymore.
And maybe it didn't.
Their actions were fast and hot and reckless and animalistic. Ellis grunted and growled with each powerful thrust and Nick murmured his name, seeing black and white stars exploding through closed eyelids. He climaxed hard soon after, with a soundless and prolonged gasp. Ellis gave a few more swift slams between Nick's spread thighs and came with a keening whimper that sent chills through Nick's spent body. Ellis then collapsed on top of Nick, settling into a deep, long purr that Nick had never heard before.
Nick wrapped his arms around Ellis and, as the aftershocks of orgasm gradually wore off, fell asleep with the boy still atop him.
Morning found Nick with a sharp headache and only a dim remembrance of what had happened the night before. The minute he opened his eyes he regretted that he had. Hell, he regretted the fact that he actually had eyes. And then seeing the sleeping Ellis on top of him made him remember, oh so slightly, the warmth and the pants and the thrusts of the night before, and he groaned audibly.
"Shit...shit, shit, shit," he shook Ellis' shoulder gently, not wanting to abruptly wake the boy for fear he might attack, "Ellis, get up. C'mon, Ellis, we gotta get cleaned up."
Ellis lifted his head and blinked blearily at Nick. Then, ignoring the persistent hand on his arm, tucked his face back into the crook of Nick's shoulder.
"Very cute, Ellis, but we gotta get up," he pushed harder and Ellis grumpily relented, growling softly and lurching off the bed and onto the floor. He made to leave, crawling toward the doorway on all fours, when Nick stopped him with a loud reprimand, "Ah! No, don't leave. I don't want Ro to be cleaning you or something when she discovers you've come in your fucking pants."
He quickly grabbed a rag and a half-empty bottle of water from the corner and beckoned Ellis back over to him. Ellis, understanding, slunk toward him, his head tilted in curiosity.
Nick knelt down to Ellis' level, working at the knot of his coveralls.
"Can't believe you kept these damn things, they're at least two times too big for you," he muttered as he yanked the sturdy material down. He doused the rag with a little water and wiped at the boy's crotch. Ellis yelped and tried to leap back but Nick held him in place with a firm hand to his arm; truthfully, Nick knew Ellis was stronger than him, always had been, but he counted heavily on the boy simply not wanting to be away from him. And it worked, now as always.
In fact, it only took a second before Ellis seemed to enjoy the ministrations, leaning in closer to Nick and settling into that deep purr again. Nick immediately stopped, much to Ellis' displeasure, and pulled the boy's pants back up, re-tying the knot.
"Sorry kid, but we won't be repeating whatever happened last night. I'm all for progressive love and all, but something about human/zombie relations is a bit...unnatural."
Nick pulled down his own pants and underwear afterward, grimacing at the stains on the cloth and dried flecks of semen glued to his skin. He poured the rest of the water on the rag and tossed the empty bottle aside, doing his best to clean his underwear and himself. Ellis watched curiously and tried to edge in closer to get a good look, but Nick swatted him away. He wasn't too keen on having a mouth full of razor sharp teeth near his favorite organ.
When he was done, he pulled his pants back up, buttoned them, and gave a heavy sigh.
"Mention this to no one," he warned, half-teasing because he knew the boy couldn't talk about it even if he wanted to.
Nick made his way to the cafeteria, Ellis springing alongside him, and opened the doors to find Coach still slumped against the table and Rochelle sitting on the windowsill ledge, chewing ruefully at a dried apricot.
"You guys feel as awesome as I do right now?" Nick asked sarcastically, sitting down and pressing his palms hard against his temples to alleviate the pain. Coach groaned, his voice muffled by his arms, and Rochelle closed her eyes tightly.
"Oh Nick, don't talk...you're just making it worse..."
"Ouch," Nick grumbled from in between his hands. Ellis hopped up on the table, poking at Nick's untidy hair with his claws. Nick swatted his hands away, "stop."
Ellis snorted, gave his shoulders a quick roll, then hopped off the table and scampered out the cracked double doors. Coach spoke up, voice slow and cracking.
"We ain't never...never, doin' that shit again."
Nick was in too much pain to laugh.
After the drunken escapade they'd shared, Ellis spent most of his time right alongside Nick, whereas before he'd been content to be left to his own devices. Thankfully, Coach and Rochelle didn't seem to questioning of these new circumstances. They seemed to have reasoned that Ellis, whether human or zombie, would always love Nick and want to be around him.
Ellis started following him around, nipping playfully at his heels or taking the hems of Nick's pants between his teeth and tugging on them like a dog playing man-of-war. He'd even begun trying to communicate regularly; when Ellis was around, Nick could expect to hear the garbled growls that Ellis seemed to think were perfectly acceptable English words. Between Ellis' new enthusiasm and Nick's gambler patience, they'd begun to slowly rehabilitate the boy. In only a matter of a few days, Ellis knew his name, though any attempt to speak it would result in a barely-understandable "Aaahlissk". Still, he was doing well, and Nick couldn't believe he'd ever doubted the mechanic's propensity to recover.
Ellis had also grown much more affectionate. That night seemed to have reminded him that yes, there was such a thing as sex, yes, it felt amazing, and yes, he and Nick used to indulge quite a bit.
This new revelation offered several awkward situations in the form of Ellis jumping Nick whenever he could. Luckily, he'd been able to push Ellis away before the southerner had been able to hump him in front of Coach and Rochelle. It was strange and embarrassing, like owning a dog that was entirely too amorous toward visitors.
"Look," Nick said one night, having dragged Ellis into the closest room he found find; the theater, "you can't keep doing that. You're a zombie, Ellis. A zombie."
"Ahlisk!" Ellis hissed proudly, and if Nick didn't know better he could have sworn there was a smug little smirk on the boy's face.
"Yes, you can say your name. I know. Good job. Just stop trying to bone me, okay?"
He sat down on a box and laced his fingers together. Ellis stalked forward and leaned against Nick's thigh, prompting the gambler to place a calloused hand on Ellis' head.
"It makes me feel weird, all right? Like a pervert. I mean, you're hardly in your right mind. You're sick and rabid and..."
"Ahlisk."
Nick looked at Ellis, hard and shrewd.
Sick and rabid and...Ellis. He was still Ellis. While everyone else had their doubts, the boy still knew who he was.
So their intial care of him hadn't been in vain. And there was still hope; Rochelle had seemed to think so, through all this, and now even the man in question was affirming the question that weighed constantly on Nick's mind. He was still Ellis. He'd get better. And he'd stay by Nick and love him as desperately as he had before.
All this and more was evident on the boy's face.
"Fair enough, killer," Nick stroked the side of Ellis' cheek, trailing fingers down to the boy's chin, "but we're still not sleeping together."
Ellis dipped his head and licked at the pads of the conman's fingers. He was slow and deliberate, noticeably un-zombie-like, and Nick watched him, only vaguely aware of the pleasure flooding through his body with each dab of Ellis' tongue.
"You gotta stop that," he said suddenly and drew his hand away. Ellis paid it no mind and crawled into Nick's lap, purring and leaning against him.
"Ellis..." Nick warned, hands to the boy's shoulders. Ellis simply bared his teeth playfully and leaned hard into Nick, causing them both to tumble off the backless box and hard onto the floor. Nick groaned, rubbing the back of his head. Ellis sat, triumphant, on top of him, kneading at the man's chest with his claws.
"Ugh...kid, you are..." he started, but trailed off as something caught his eye.
Underneath the bottom shelf of a nearby supply cart were the familiar dusty blues and whites of Ellis' cap. Slowly, Nick reached out and pulled it from under the cart, and held it up to the boy's face.
Ellis sniffed at it, his eyes wide. He pawed at it, still not quite educated enough to know what to do with it, so Nick set it firmly on top of Ellis' head. Ellis rolled his eyeballs up as far as they could go to catch sight of the brim over his forehead, then looked back at Nick.
Ellis seemed more complete with that cap, both physically and mentally. He reached up to drag the tips of his claws along the material of the cap, then set his hand back down on Nick's chest, firm and feeling of the strong heartbeat that pounded just below the surface.
"Ahlisk," he growled, and Nick nodded in agreement.
"Ellis."
