Two is just as bad as one

Part 3

Hunter and smoker friendship

Its not the best thing I've ever written but I like this story and I'm glad I've finally wrapped it up. Now I can get back to the sequel to these two having sex... so they can do it some more

Desmond took his time getting home.

It wasn't the best idea, considering when it got dark it got dangerous, but he had things to think about.

Those people crushed under that limo were the only hope that kid had left, the hope that they would carry his little spoiled ass to safety and turn him back into the golden human brat he once was.

Even though it was his parents where the one who left him behind in the first place…

They were probably bigger pricks then he was.

Still, no one deserved to lose their parents, or their hope.

Even him.

The kid would be home waiting, and without the truth he'd be waiting forever.

Damn, he felt so alone, and he hadn't even lost anyone.

He was lucky, nothing took a shot or a chomp at him through the city, but it didn't to cheer him up. If anything the front door came up too early.

To be or not to be...

The only thing reading hamlet ever taught him was procrastinating just got everyone killed in the end.

With a sigh he pushed it open.

The house was quiet, but it was always quiet. If the kid was there his sounds were probably lost in the vast square-footage.. The smoker set his gathered groceries on the kitchen table, they wouldn't spoil anytime soon.

He was tempted to call, but that was a bit too domestic for his tastes, and would probably scare the him away. The hunter was almost certainly somewhere in the building, too scared to leave the house.

As he scaled the stairs he began to hear shuffling and the occasional mumble. It was coming from the same room where he had been was so rudely awakened.

He began to soften his steps, no reason to surprise him.

And no excuse not to snoop.

The door opened quietly on well oiled, expensive hinges. Peaking in he spotted the little roamer knocking back and forth around the room, touching everything within reach like a curious baby, and just as clumsy.

The hunter flipped through the comic books he had picked up on some of his trips, occasionally ripping one of the covers and nervously shoving it to the bottom of the pile. He picked up the controllers to his game systems, pressing a few buttons before tossing them back down and ruffling through his games. Every time he found something interesting he'd huff and make some comment under his breath, the smoker heard "nerd" and "geek" more than once, as well as the occasional "pervert".

Funny... he didn't keep anything dirty out there...

Then the hunter decided it would be a good idea to yank a book out from the bottom of his stash of pilfered literature, not taking into account that the mess was almost as tall as he was. He gave out a dog like yelp when it all came tumbling down.

The smoker couldn't help but laugh.

"Who-who's there?"

The poor thing probably couldn't see buried under all those books.

"Hang on." nabbing a loose hand sticking out from the mess he gave it a quick tug and out the other popped, black framed red eye staring up at him with surprise.

That is until he recognized who it was and snatched his hand away.

God forbid he expects a thank you.

"You alright?"

The smaller one only huffed, adjusting the hoodie that had been ruffled when he was crushed, pulling the hood tight over his head.

Something was different about him, the way he turned when the other looked at him, how he hid his face.

What had changed?

"Did... did you bring food?"

"Uh... yeah, it's in the kitchen." he gestured with a jab of his thumb.

The hunter walked silently, as if he were trying to retain as much dignity as possible, too bad he lost it all when he was defeated by a pile of books.

The kid dug around in the bags until he found something that was to his liking, a can the smoker didn't catch the name of. He stared at it, put it at different angles, gnawed on it for a bit, until finally slamming it down on the table.

"Open it." he demanded.

With a sigh the smoker took out a swiss army knife and opened the damn thing. If it would get him to shut up...

But the hunter still seemed to be at a loss. Again he tilted it, looking for something, but just ended up spilling the contents on himself. With a frustrated growl he threw the offending can on the table.

What the... the kid couldn't even feed himself.

"I envy whatever life you led..." the smoker commented with a roll of his eyes and grabbed the food, pouring it into a pan and turning on the flame.

"What do you know." he flopped down at the table, crossing his arms. There wasn't much energy in his movements, maybe all that thrashing and throwing things wore him out.

The room was quiet except for the soft bubble on the stove.

"Something wrong?" things hadn't been this calm since he first brought him here.

Still there was silence and the smoker gave up.

"... I saw myself."

"...oh?" uh oh.

"In the mirror in the bathroom... I saw myself."

What do you say to something like that? I told you so? Probably not in the best taste.

"I looked almost as freaky as you."

"...Gee, thanks." Well never mind...

"So I guess I really am 'infected' or whatever. It's not too bad as what's on the news." he didn't even seem to notice he'd insulted him, or maybe he just didn't care. "But... I probably can't go back like this, not until they find a cure or some shit like that."

He spoke like they were just chatting about the weather but he could see the slight tremble in his balled fists. Those black eyes seemed red around the edges, had he been crying earlier?

Crying all alone in an empty house after catching site of yourself in a mirror.

That had to be one of the saddest things he'd ever heard.

That and his parents...

Shit, he always hated character drama in games, he didn't need it in real life.

"That's why, from now on, you're going to take care of me."

…..

…...

"Excuse me?"

"You need to get food more often, and none of that healthy hippie shit, I need some magazines, you don't wake me unless I tell you to, which you I won't, you-"

"I said you could STAY here, I didn't say I'd take care of you."

The hunter really didn't seem to understand (or didn't care again) the words that were coming out of the others mouth. "You kidnapped me, you're responsible." Crossed feet perched on the table as he leaned back, his tennis shoes looked expensive. "So you'd better get used to it."

"I didn't-uh, never mind…" why did good deeds have to bite him in the ass, though that's probably what you should expect with a hunter anyway, a nice big chunk off your ass getting torn off.

"Look." The smoker threw the bowl on the table, spraying the nearly molten liquid on his companion, who hissed and licked it off indignantly. "This is the apocalypse, a zombie apocalypse one top of that? Haven't you ever played a freaken' video game. No one takes care of you, they kill you, they eat your brains for cryin' out loud."

That managed to get the point through well enough, the others face had dropped from its high and mighty smirk, now he just seemed angry.

"Now I'm willing to HELP you… For a while… but you're going to have to take care of your own ass or you're not going to last the first survivor who make it up this way."

"Survivor? You mean non-freaks, I'll just talk to them, jeezus." He crossed his arms as if he knew all.

"They're more of the shoot now and ask questions later type. Not to mention if something else gets in here, guys as big as a house, chicks with razors for hands, you won't believe what I've seen out there." The smoker smiled. "I'm one of the nice ones."

Unsure how to respond, the hunter just sunk down in his seat, pouting, growling, like some little kid who didn't get his way. At least that his whining for the moment.

Then there was a clack, the table was vibrating under the bowl.

Though he was trying pretty damn hard to surpass it, the little one was shaking. He had his lip clenched tightly between his teeth, cutting the skin.

Shit, he'd gone too far.

The smoker sat down, holding the hunter wasn't exactly an option, he'd get bitten or yapped at again, and kind, soothing words would just make him mad.

Time for a man to man talk.

"Hey… I don't want to be your butler, or your baby sitter-"

"I don't need a fucking baby sitter." The other hissed.

"Right, but in a mess like this, it's probably good to have a friend right?"

That one, black framed red eye looked up at him. For a moment he really did look like a scared little kid, lost and confused. No one was coming to rescue him, no one was left to care for him, he couldn't help feeling just a little, tiny bit parental towards him.

"Fag."

Why hadn't he learned his lesson by now?

But the kid laughed, that was the first time he'd seen him even smile since he carried him back here. It was a nice improvement.

"It's not like I have a choice do I? I've got nowhere else to go at the moment."

"What a nice foundation of a friendship." The smoker let a puff of mist out from the corner of his mouth. "Let's try this again," he held out his hand. "I'm Desmond."

It took a few moments but eventually the other to the gesture. "Frisk."

Desmond cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Eh, whatever. Fisk. I've doubt you've eaten since all this started, so chow down." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the bag of supplies he'd rounded up and popped out a shaft and took between his lips.

"Oh great. Don't tell me you smoke too?"

For some reason he smiled. "This sounds like the start of a horrible friendship."