❝ oh, is that it? i’m the only one who lost? ❞ he counters with a playful grin. he hums as a kiss is pressed to his cheek, eyes closing comfortably as he always takes these moments to focus solely on that —- the intimacy they can still find, even in moments like this. ❝ are you suggesting we spend some time apart? you know, enough time to make sure you miss me? ❞ he taunts. aaron could never agree to that —- both because he loves being with him more than anything, and because the thought of not being with him and wondering if he’s okay would eat away at him. he scoffs, looking ahead and shaking his head. ❝ no. actually, i don’t, ❞ he says honestly, looking back at him with a small grin. ❝ i feel good about today. ❞
“i miss you already just considering it.” the unconscious way his arm loops around aaron is testament to the fact, brow furrowed in the slightest hint of concern, and for a moment, they aren’t chasing a stranger in a ruined city; for a moment, there is nothing but them, eric bumping his forehead against aaron’s shoulder, breathing him in. suspended in this moment, time stilled, an illusion that shatters with a thump, eric jolting backward, lightning-quick as he draws his gun from its holster.
they stand in the main thoroughfare of a small town, buildings once white-washed and proud now sagging and lifeless; to their left is a little four-door sedan, and from its interior comes a rasping groan. the thump repeats, and eric, still clutching aaron’s shirt, cants his head; it sounds again, and this time, he sees the movement within, the rotted fingers that slam halfheartedly into the grime-crusted window. “jeez.” sniffing in disgust, his gaze slides along the vehicle, as if attempting to discern if there’s anything lootable--
--- and a noise of triumph rolls from his tongue before he can quiet it. “babe. oh my god.” the chase forgotten momentarily, attention consumed in this: he trades his gun for his knife, stepping past aaron towards the rear end of the sedan, stooping, a scratch and grind of the blade against metal as he pries away the license plate. even layered with dirt, the words are unmistakable, and as he stands, sliding his knife home, eric is beaming, presenting his find to aaron with a glow spreading across his cheeks. “rhode island. in better shape than the other one, too.” he laughs, a sharp and pleasant sound. “okay-- i have a good feeling about today, too,” eric agrees, as if the discovery is a sign; a promise of something good to come.