Losing More Than Time

A small creak in the distance had Ben lean away from the brick building. The gentle wind that had slid in from the East all week shifted his hair as if a lover had done so. Blowing upwards, he moved the hair out of the way because there was no way he wanted those memories. Eyes went up as he did so before leveling back down to try and spot the source of the creak.

Being in a big, empty city like this was always similar to toying with the Reapers: hooded, ethereal skeletons wrapped in cloaks that take one's soul. Ben had never seen one but then again, he'd never seen a zombie before the outbreak had started about two years ago. Maybe longer. There was no way to fully tell time anymore.

His brown eyes could find nothing out of place but that didn't mean anything. For all he knew, fifty flesh eating nightmares could be around the corner just waiting for him to waltz into their jaws.

Pursing his lips, he quietly pushed from the wall and shifted through the grass no one had been around to trim in ages. He made slow progress but eventually was able to lean around the brick side. His gloved fingers gripped the rough siding as he peeked with just his head. The street and other buildings came into view but no terrible scene greeted him.

Watching for a few moments, he tried to tell his heart to just relax, calm down. There was no obvious sign of a threat. Letting out a smooth breath, he glanced upwards to dirty, dark windows on the second and third story to the building he was keeping an eye out at.

Nearly fifteen minutes ago, three of his group had headed up to look for some supplies. This had been an office building for some lawyers, Ben thinks, but even lawyers needed med kits and probably other things, but they needed band aids and gauze real bad. There had been no sound from the building which was a good thing but two of the three were a couple and that was concerning.

Kyle, Ethan, and Meena had gone up but Ethan and Meena were nearly inseparable. Sure, that was good for watching each others' backs, but distractions like that didn't work well in the field. He just hoped Kyle could smack Ethan into place if he stared at Meena's butt too long because that happened at camp more often than not.

With the thought of Ethan, Ben pursed his lips and made his way just as slowly to the other side of the back of the building. Ethan was some man, he could swear it. Unfortunately, Ethan was straight. Being the only gay man in the group was always ridiculous because the others either felt bad or treated him like some exotic fish. Though, it wasn't like he could complain much. His last group had nearly killed him.

Looking over the side of the other wall, Ben made sure no nightmare scene was there, either, before heading back to his original placement: the back door. He chewed his lower lip, color poking along his cheeks and nose bridge while his mind gave him an image of Ethan. A tall, well-built man that loved taking risks for others. Just the right thing to make Ben hate the circumstances he found himself in.

Four months back he'd met Ethan in the middle of some train depot. Jordan had been part of the group Ben had stumbled into after being alone for months and months, save some time with singular or small groups of people that either didn't trust him enough or died. Jordan was also the one who disliked Ben the most, though he wasn't alone in how he felt. The only reason Ben stayed was a desperate attempt to stay alive but they all eventually found out he was gay.

Jordan had pretended to be upset about "getting picked" to join Ben on a run for supplies. Ben later found out this had all been planned. Jordan had taken Ben out on the road and given a stiff, cold shoulder the whole time. Once they had found some supplies and gone far enough to be suitable, Jordan had walked the male to the back of the depot. He had claimed to think that, perhaps, there were supplies in a storage office but then had been curious to show Ben the turnabout.

Ben, not having believed that mankind could be so evil in such dire times as an apocalypse, had not seen what Jordan would do. Once at the turnabout, Jordan had blabbed about this plan him and the others had come up with to get rid of the groups' gay. He'd used harsher words but Ben couldn't even stand to think of them. They'd figured he was dumb enough to fall for this trick, and he had. So brilliantly. Ben had never felt more a fool.

When Jordan had started to back him to the turnabout where, not surprisingly, a few zombies moaned for attention at the bottom, Ben had started to beg for his life. He wasn't exactly proud of it but he wasn't ashamed of it. More so at the way he'd believed a group of homophobes could change. Or wouldn't harm someone still alive.

The gun pointed at his head clicked when Jordan had pulled the hammer back and Ben had gone silent. He'd stared up that cocked arm and found real horror in Jordan's eyes. The shot that went off, however, had not been the one to end him. Rather, it had ended Jordan. Flinching hard, Ben had ducked down and then watched in shock when Jordan dropped with a hole in the side of his head.

Ethan had walked up, then, holding a gun like a police officer and walking like an FBI agent in the movies. He could have been naked for all Ben cared. A crying, blubbering mess, Ben had clung to Ethan while the man had walked him back through the town where a very small group was waiting for Ethan. They'd apparently gone for supplies and Ethan had so happened to overhear Jordan spew his crap and then had acted the moment he had realized Ben was in real danger.

Ever since, the last few months, Ben had fought hard not to have a crush but Ethan haunted him all hours of sleep and waking. There was no other gay man in this new group but he wasn't mistreated at all. Some even looked at him like he was an exotic alien and he had a lot of friends. So, really. He couldn't complain.

As he thought back with a warm flush to his face, he zoned out from the world. He had checked to make sure they weren't going to be mauled and then leaned back against the wall. He stared up at the shifting clouds and then became unaware of passing time.

The next thing he was aware of was the pounding of feet on the floor. Snapping immediately out of his reverie, he inhaled hard and yanked open the door. Gun dangling from one hand, he nearly screamed in surprise as Ethan ran toward him.

"Wha-" With huge eyes, Ben raised the gun and aimed, not willing to let even Ethan's gorgeous face make him a fool for a zombie.

"Its not mine! It's not mine!" Blood covered most of the males upper half. Hands raised in a frantic motion to stop any possible gunfire from Ben's side. "Please!" The sound of his voice was frantic but Ben and no way to figure out if he'd been bit or not.

"Well, hurry up!" Ben snapped, waving the gun to motion. Relief mixed with everything else on Ethan's face before it took him over. Sprinting, he made it through the door and Ben slammed it shut behind him. Ethan grabbed the other man on the arm and pulled him hard until they were both running like mad.

"What happened? Where's everyone else? Are you bit?"

"I—she—shut up and run!"

Ben was okay with this part of the plan. He shut his mouth as they made it through the yard and between houses to get onto the road they ha parked on. They scrambled to get into the van, sounds of following zombies reaching their ears. Ben, the better driver, started the vehicle and was squealing tires before Ethan's door was fully closed.

"Fuck!" Ethan cursed, nearly getting thrown out of the vehicle. He tossed a glare at Ben who wasn't even paying attention. "There were zombies everywhere in the upper offices. We opened the one door and they just came... they just piled out into the hall." He shifted to look behind them, watching some zombies stagger into street and some more wobble out of nearby houses. They weren't exactly being sneaky.

"So... you're the only one?" Death was easily a common occurrence in the apocalypse but that would mean Ethan had seen, or at least knew he'd been right there, when Meena had been killed.

The only answer that was given was a stern, bloody look from Ethan. Silence curled between them, then, as Ben floored it to get away from the growing crowd they had amassed. Somewhere on the road they had stopped at a broken down gas station. After securing the site, they used some cloth to get most of the blood off of Ethan skin. Ethan had snatched some extra pants from a locker in the back room before grumbling about his filthy clothes when they headed back on the road.

Since it had already been over five minutes, Ben didn't ask about Ethan being infected. He would have turned before they'd even made it out of town. There was no need to ask what else had happened: they all had their own stories they had to contend with.

Forty minutes after running from the town, they come up to the gates of their camp. Being let in, they're debriefed and Ethan is hauled away to the medic house. Ben wandered back to his home and sat on the porch. The whole town had rapidly been fenced off from the rest of the world in order to try and keep the residents safe. It wasn't a fool-proof plan but it wad better than wires and cans in the middle of the woods. One could maybe sometimes forget the world whilst sitting there, relaxing.

Later the next day, Ben took some homemade food to Ethan's home. He knocked twice before he heard a grumble and a mumbled, "come in." Stepping into the home, he clicked the door shut behind him.

"Ethan, the doc said she sent you home so I made you some dinner. I figured you'd—"

"Shhh!"

Ben straightened, mouth clamping shut at the slurred sound of the command not even a full word. The curtains were mostly drawn and the place smelled like alcohol. He looked to the couch where Ethan was sitting on the floor and leaning against it. Bare feet shone in a small sliver of light from a window, long legs leading up to the inebriated male.

"You... you're drunk," Ben stated unnecessarily.

"Mmm," was the only response given. Ethan took a long swig while Ben settled in beside him, giving at least half a foot of space between them for respect.

"You smell terrible," he commented but was given a grunt. "Is this because of..." He couldn't dare bring himself to say her name or even hint any farther forwards it. Grief was a strange thing now.

"You know what I never noticed, Ben?" Ethan said suddenly, voice loud for a moment but it quieted toward the end.

"What's that?"

"How fucking cute you are." The drunken man leaned over and smiled right in Ben's face. Ben, startled, couldn't move farther than a flinch back against the couch he was leaning against.

"Your breathe sme—" Before he could finish, Ethan shoved himself the rest of the way. Their lips pressed hard and a hand rose, cupping half of Ben's face. Ben groaned, hating the taste but also what was happening. He wiggled, putting a hand on Ethan's chest and shoving him back.

"I've seen how you look at me, Ben. I know you've got a crush. I ain't mad." Thankfulness once he'd been pushed back enough.

"W-what...? No I don't scare if you're mad. You're drunk."

"What if I were sober?"

"Ethan, you're not gay and you're drunk, get off!" He shoved harder even though Ethan had made no further advancements. Ethan scoffed as he leaned back, dropping against the couch in the dame spot he'd been before.

"I don't get why it matters. You like me and I just kissed you and you—"

"You think you're the only one that lost someone? Grief doesn't mean people should sleep with you! You're just an upset, drunk, a—"

"I watched them bite into her!" Ethan snarled and Ben paused, mouth open. Slowly, he closed it as they stated at each other. "I watched a chunk of flesh get ripped off her face and pit of her neck. You've never seen someone close to you die like that!" He turned back to cuddling the bottle while Ben stared at the side of his face.

"My husband." Silence swallowed them, Ethan stilling with the bottle just upon his lower lip. They were sobering words and it showed on Ethan's face as he turned to stare at Ben who now focused on a distant spot on the wall.

"What?"

"The first day. Day one. We were... on a date." Ben glanced to Ethan before inhaling slowly and looking all the way away. "He liked to date even after we'd married. We were one of the first couples to get married when it became legal. Him and I had dated... since grade school.

"Anyway, he got bit on the arm. We had been out on the patio chairs of the restaurant—those were his favorite places—and he'd jumped in to save me from getting bit. He was so startled that he couldn't help when the other one grabbed him. I... he let them tear into him while he still yelled for me to run."

"Jesus."

"I spent three days trying to find a change of clothes and safe place to clean his blood off me so no, Ethan, you're not the only one who's had to see things like that."

"You're... I mean, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I mean. I didn't move on, really, but what else could I do? I know he's gone..."

"Ben... What..."

"I keep the ring. I wish I had a chance to bury him... or take his so I could have something... but all I have is mine." He reached under his shirt and pulled out a chain. On the end was a beautiful black band outlined in silver. They both looked at it for a moment before he put it back down his shirt.

"I'm sorry..."

"You didn't know." Ethan went to take another drink but thought against it. "I should... Get going."

"Say the night? Just... I'm a mess when I drink. Can't walk, nothing." Ethan put down the bottle and looked at Ben who shifted with a worried frown. "Promise I won't kiss you again."

"Alright... let me get this in the fridge, then I'll help you get cleaned up and to bed." Ethan made a pleased sound and smiled while Ben stood, smiling back gently.