1. The one with the zombie survival
“Why did you openthat door?” Jared grumbled, furiously pressing the buttons on his controller.
He was pretty chill in his daily life, but zombie survival video games always transformed him into a different person. A cucumber in a sauna probably looked smarter.
Even when he hadn’t played a game before, he quickly got used to the commands and little tricks with the ease of a seasoned pro. Yet, when those walking dead monstrosities shuffled onto the screen, Jared’s muscles stiffened and his nerves went haywire.
“Because that’s the only way to get in?” Dylan retorted, laughing at him.
They had been wandering around the post-apocalyptic city for some time, scavenging the abandoned area for virtual items, when Dylan directed his character under a garage door and opened the one leading into the house.
“You could have at least warned me—this asshole!” Jared stabbed the zombie that had tackled him in the head, but the little shit wouldn’t die.
“Aww... Don’t worry. If you get killed, I’ll resurrect you like the princess you are.”
“Are you gonna kiss my ass too?” Jared retorted withoutthinking.
“If that’s what you want,” Dylan rasped. “I’m sure I could make you scream louder than you’re yelling at the TV.”
“Take that, you motherfucker!” Jared continued pressing the buttons for good measure. “Ugh! Finally.”
As the words Dylan just blurted sank in and Jared’s brain deciphered the tone he’d used, he stiffened, dick sheepishly throbbing to life. Wait. What?
“You know that even if you lift your controller and move it around like a madman, they won’t die any deader, right?”
“Shut up.” Jared punched Dylan on the shoulder, his mouth twitching with a smirk. “Also, what the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck was what?” Dylan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and took a swig of beer.
He quirked a brow. “You’re gonna make me scream?”
“Oh. Yeah, like a damsel in distress.”
Jared cackled. “I’d rather keep my knighthood, please and thank you.”
“You’re no knight. Just a piece of shit from Middlesbrough,” Dylan said in a horrible northern accent.
“Fuck you.”
Ah... I needed this.
After unleashing what felt like a reasonable amount of zombie mayhem, they ventured inside the ruined house. The place was a disaster—windows and shutters broken, the table in the kitchen covered with rotten food and flies, dirty floors that probably had a PhD in grime... you get the idea.
Jared eventually stumbled upon what appeared to be a first aid kit. “Fuck, yeah. Let me go ahead and—”
“Empty,”said his avatar.
“Nothing. Alrighty,” he muttered while his avatar rummaged through a sports bag on the floor. “Hey, leather. I’ll take it.”
Jared took a swig from his bottle, sneaking a quick glance at Dylan. He was half naked, wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts.
You’d think that since they had known each other for only four months and this was Jared’s first time here, there would be some sort of formality, but nope. As soon as they’d entered the apartment, Dylan tossed his tee over the back of the couch, telling Jared to make himself at home while he went to change.
Jared wasn’t about to complain, though. He had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the view...
To be honest, something had been gnawing at him for a few weeks. An itch that was growing into a full-blown rash. It weighed down his lungs, making breathing feel like an Olympic sport. Was it longing? Sadness? Guilt? A shadow was looming over his relationship, and all he could think about lately was how Dylan’s body would feel against his. How fucked up was that?
Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, Jared refocused on the game.
