#aouad

You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if God existed then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once: Smartphones are threatening devolution. The planet is on the edge of a burning match. There are bigger things than this.

Still, swirling in the depths of your stomach is the incriminating need to cry, and pray, and perhaps maybe even touch yourself, too.

Your moral compass is a work in progress.

It had a knack for getting nefariously cloudy, especially when he entered the mix…

Gwinam's eyes are blown into saucers as he looks down at you. He is utterly restless, not knowing what to do with himself, when you took so much of him, so well. His satisfaction has you fighting the urge to hum and moan around the head of his cock.

Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit.

For starters, your knees are cutting into gravel, your shirt is unbuttoned because Gwinam was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand was locked tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down his throat.

You clench your toes, trying not to gag.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," Gwinam got exceedingly verbal during most of your secret trysts. With his slurred speech, the boy could murmur every curse, praise and degradation under the sun.

"Such a good fucking slut," but the invisible word always hung heavy between you two. A word you always wanted to hear him say…

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He had always, and would always fail to claim you, in any capacity, even under the spell of sexual intoxication.

"What they don't understand… Is that I'm actually a really nice guy." Gwinam begins that weird quirk where he speaks to himself while he uses your body for his own pleasure. You were made to question whether you were his therapist or his whore. You love it though.

Every habit or quirk of his was indiscriminately locked away in a safe and buried in the depths of your consciousness.

"I'm really-" You slide your tongue along his shaft, ripping a hoarse groan from his chest and momentarily stumping his verbal momentum.

"What no one seems to understand, is that… I'm a… fair fucking guy, too." Feeling himself get too close, Gwinam eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your hair. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that

was special to Gwinam. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified fleshlight.

"And that fucking Jinsu," He punctuates his sentence with an incredulous laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes. All you can do is sit back on your haunches, lift the sleeve of your fitted school jersey to wipe away the excess saliva. You remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.

As he talks, a slow feeling of admiration seeps into the pit of your stomach which is utterly pathetic, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.

"They wanna make me seem like a murderer-" he exclaims, "Me?! It's not my fault he tried to kill himself,” He laughs incredulously. His smile is utterly dazzling in the unambiguous morning glow, with his rugged hair messy just how you like it. You recognize his black undershirt as the same shirt he might've worn yesterday, and the day before that, and perhaps even the day before that. His school shirt was wrinkled and unkempt and his shoes had seen far better days - even better years.

Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Gwinam as an earth-dwelling parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own survival. Something that takes, and takes, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and baddest of them all.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to the lot behind the science block. The sound of students trickling in for their morning classes filled your ears but Gwinam's gaze was placed firmly on something below his exposed cock. Throughout this mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against his leg, quite literally on its own accord. Gwinam is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. You rip your hand away, embarrassed by the weird show of affection. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.

Gwinam, eventually dismisses you, as he always does. He shakes his head and resumes his stroking. "Whatever," He says, tilting your own head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."

Almost insitinvely, you did as he ordered, and like clockwork, he groaned and cursed and emptied himself inside your mouth. You swallowed his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your admiration actually was. There is a moment, perhaps imagined, after he's finished, when the aftershocks are still running rampant through his body, in which his fingers gripping your hair, rub along the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.

Gwinam straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable as the student body knows him to be (which admittedly is not a lot).

Before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.

"Tell anyone about this-"

"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."

And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection on your phone to assess the damage Gwinam and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended). As far as Gwinam is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so forgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.

It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of forced proximity through group projects and class discussions… so Cheongsan gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction. It was second period, English, your teacher was running late and while the class descended into mayhem you decided to read.

"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" Cheongsan leans over your desk, a deep shadow over the pages alerting you to his presence, "They both die at the end."

It was incredibly rare that Cheongsan, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. So naturally, you peer up at him with shocked, questioning eyes.

"Sorry?"

"Y-Your book," He stutters, suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.

"'They Both Die At The End. The title of the book you're reading."

"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"

"Nah," Cheongsan waves a large hand in dismissal, "The only thing I made was a fool of myself." You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly, to see more of him.

"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."

"You know- I swear I had a pair of balls before the start of this conversation," He purses his lips and clasps his hands on his lap in a dramatic display, "Now I'm not quite sure where they went."

Gwinam's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until someone in his friend group shoves past him, to get to their own seats.

His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgement of his presence in the row of desks to your right. You do nothing of the sort and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.

Gwinam has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance. Overthinking being something he lived without. Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.

Perhaps if he…

"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Cheongsan rallying into silence. Gwinam appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Cheongsan. Cheongsan who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Gwinam injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your hardened eyes off Cheongsan as Gwinam lowers himself to his chair, legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.

"Don't stop now," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your Science teacher might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you in your periphery. His slouching puts him a level lower than you but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation. "Maybe I should ask, Cheongsan? What were you guys talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Gwinam's tone, in fact it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalates into full on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.

Cheongsan's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-" Gwinam cuts him off with fervour.

"Books! How interesting!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but still you refuse to look at him. "And tell me, Cheongsan… how many books have you read so far?"

It is then that Gwinam's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric of your chequered school skirt until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…

your breath hitches in your throat.

Never had Gwinam ever felt the desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.

"A couple," Says Cheongsan, fighting to show this bully that he was affected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Gwinam's palm made, you simply were not there.

"A couple books?" Asks Gwinam for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story. He finally slips under your skirt. His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it

His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.

Not at all.

If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.

The tips of Gwinam's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.

Gwinam's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Cheongsan?"

Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through him and Gwinam's overabundance in questions, has Cheongsan reeling backwards.

"I asked you a question, Cheongsan."

"I like reading."

"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Gwinam tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.

Gwinam is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation it seems. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you. That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along. He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Cheongsan for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Cheongsan had gone far enough, would you venture as far as to suck his cock in deserted sectors of the schoolyard? Had you even fucked Cheongsan before?

You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows to your book once more. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Gwinam's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - or the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Cheongsan still very much a part of the conversation.

"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Gwinam. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties.

"Don't cut your life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, okay?"

Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Cheongsan could not see the slight tremor on your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary. His words, however - they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.

"Understood?"

Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Cheongsan give you one final look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aide Gwinam's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.

Once Cheongsan is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Gwinam lowers his lips to your ears. You're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a naughty little thing until you make a mess all over his hand.

"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony.

"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, fighting to ward off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for Mr Lee's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Gwinam's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he so often labeled you as.

Instead of moving to his designated seat, Gwinam lifts the same hand that has previously been in between your legs, right into the air.

"What?" Asks Mr Lee, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.

"Can we go? We were excused by the Principal to assist Mrs-"

"Fine, fine," Says Mr Lee with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."

Gwinam's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.

"Here," you have barely made it fully into the girl's bathroom before Gwinam is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom counter.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you," He forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them. You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Gwinam is always a ball of energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.

You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.

The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of water grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.

"My girl," Gwinam presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his front against your back. His hard cock in unmistakable through his pants, "My messy little girl,"

You finally moan candidly around his fingers, your fingers gripping the countertops while your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.

"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner," This is all new, even for the two of you.

"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart. "Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you.

Gwinam removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of unbreakable saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.

Gwinam weaponizes your distraction to slide your panties to the side with one hand and rub your clit with his other, spit-coated hand.

You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.

"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've cum? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.

"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.

Gwinam collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, Gwinam does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom counter and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock ram your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers harsh and sharp slaps against your cheek. Gwinam keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.

"You think you're so fucking cute, huh? You think you can walk around fucking any guy who even looks at you, huh!?" It doesn't even register that Gwinam wrongfully suspects that there had been something between Cheongsan and you, but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.

"Oh~ Fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving Gwinam balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Cheongsan?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Cheongsan?!" It's utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting. "What would Cheongsan think? If he saw me raping you in the bathroom like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum inside you and completely ruined you for anyone else,"

"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "it's only ever been you, Gwinam- oh my God! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.

"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."

"I fucking need you, Oh my God" You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.

His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes becoming sloppy, "F-Fuck! I am your God, baby. You need me so fucking badly…" He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your elbows falling to the counter with your ass sticks out towards him, only allowing him better excess.

"I need you," You agree, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need your cum inside me."

"Yeah-," Gwinam says, "M'gonna fucking breed your pussy right here, in the school bathrooms- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.

"Fuck! You're fucking making me cum you stupid slut!" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice. "Oh fuck- you're fucking milking my cock, baby. Fucking take it." His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.

The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.

"I think I nearly killed Cheongsan today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.

"There is no Cheongsan," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you."

Somehow, in a blink of an eye, you'd watched person after person succumb to a man-eating monster in the span of seconds. There was blood everywhere, with guts hanging from bodies and the sounds of screams as people were eaten alive that was slowly driving you insane.

You'd gotten separated from the rest of your friends in the midst of all the madness. After being cornered by one of the zombies, you'd been forced to run another way, to leave On-jo and I-sak.

Sweat coated your skin like a second skin, there was dried blood caked onto your skin and you were starting to strongly dislike your schools uniform as a skirt seemed really unhelpful for surviving a zombie outbreak.

Your heart, still beating madly against your chest, was starting to ache as you pressed both your feet against the door in front of you. In a last mad dash for survival, you'd locked yourself into the janitors closet, just managing to shut the door as the zombie that had been chasing you reached you.

You were positive there was at least two, maybe three zombies pressed against the door trying to break in.

Eventually, they'd stop trying to get in. Despite how quickly everything had happened, you knew that the zombies were attracted to sound and since they couldn't see you, they'd either wander off or something else would catch their attention.

That didn't erase the fact that there were a lot more zombies wandering in and outside of the school. Even if you managed to get out of the janitors closet, the chances are survival were pretty slim to none. At least not on your own. You were just one person, scared out of your mind.

As the sound of the zombies drifts off, you slowly pull your feet away from the door. Your heart is beating erratically agaisnt your chest, fear coursing through your veins and making every movement hard. But, you push yourself, shifting until you're sat more upright.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you hug yourself. It had been a long run from the cafeteria and many near death experiences, not to mention the multitude of people you'd seen eaten and turn into a zombie right in front of you. Your hands were still frantically shaking, and all you wanted was Suhyeok.

It seemed silly, but you knew his presence would make you feel better. It was one thing to be alone, but another not knowing if he was okay.

He'd left lunch early to play some basketball and with a smile, a kiss and a promise to join him later, you'd continue chatting with On-jo and I-sak after he'd left. If you'd gone with him, sure, maybe you'd be dead, but you wouldn't be alone.

And you wouldn't be sat in a janitors closet wondering if he was okay.

You could imagine your boyfriend trying to make you laugh, even in a situation like this, and even if it would be ridiculous to anyone else, he'd still make you laugh. And that? That would be enough to comfort you, even if only a little.

Least of all, you knew you'd feel ten times better as Suhyeok always made you feel safe.

You're not sure how long you sit in that closet, hugging yourself and trying to fight back tears but it's long enough for you to realize that sitting there wasn't going to do anything. Suhyeok, if he was alive, wish you had to believe he was, wouldn't have left the school without you.

And you wanted to know if your friends were okay too.

When you'd ran from the cafeteria, you'd run up the stairs to the second floor. You bet that your friends and maybe Suhyeok were on the first floor, and maybe you could even escape out that way.

Maybe.

Inhaling sharply, your mind is made up then. You needed to get out.

Your eyes flicker around the closet. The janitors closet is small and, of course, filled with cleaning supplies of a variety. Your eyes, however, instantly zone in on the mop against the far wall. It was the best you had and you knew, no matter what, you couldn't stay locked in this closet. You were scared, terrified, but you'd go crazy locked in a small closet all by yourself. You also had no food or water.

Plus, you needed to find Suhyeok.

You remember seeing a few movies where one of the characters would snap the mop or broom over their knees to make a sharper weapon. You figure that'd be better that swinging slightly damp cotton at a zombies head. So, determined, you grab the mop and brace yourself.

Your first attempt, naturally, goes terribly. All you manage to do is make a loud thud and a resounding ache travel across your leg as you bite your lips to stop yourself from crying out in pain.

Breath halting, your eyes shift to the door, as if expecting to hear the zombies back at it. After minutes pass of nothing, you let out a light breath of relief.

Well, damp cotton was just going to have to do it.

Taking another survey of the closet, you look for anything else that could be helpful. Theres a few disinfectant sprays, a bucket and some paper towel, but other than that, nothing. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head.

Looks like this was the best you were going to get.

Setting your hand on the door knob, you pause just before opening it. Beyond the rapid pounding of your heart, you try to calm yourself best you can. Nothing would make the fear go away, but you couldn't go out there with any hopes of surviving if you didn't do it logically.

So, after a minute passes, you nod to yourself, determined. You slowly open the door, cautious to be as quiet as possible, peeking your head out enough to see outside. There's a few zombies wandering around and you can only assume more outside of your peripheral. But you see the stairs and you know that's your best shot.

And you couldn't stay there any longer.

Tightening your grip on the mop, you make your way out of the closet. You're deliberate in being quiet, making every step slow, cautious and silent.

It goes good for the first five minutes. You make it out of the closet and across the hallway, getting closer and closer to the stairs, when a loud squelching sounds from below you. Body freezing, you lower your gaze, realizing you'd stepped on...

Oh God, was that guts?

You have no time to dwell on it when you hear a load croak beside you. Head snapping up, your eyes widen when you realize a zombie is heading right towards you. You freeze, body tensing, hoping the zombie will think the sound was nothing and go away.

Except, it gets close enough to smell you and suddenly, it's letting out a cry as it starts running at you.

Letting out a gasp, you take the mop and swing it right at the zombie. You put all your strength into the swing, hitting the zombie right across the side of the side of its head. It's head turns and you feel like you hear a cracking sound, but a second later, the zombie's head snaps right back to look at you.

"Fuck," you whisper, breathless. "Stupid mop."

Turning without a seconds hesitation, you break out into a run yourself, heading straight for the stairs. You know you're attracting more zombies, but your best bet is reaching those stairs.

You never do.

Just as you ran past another clossroom, you lose your footing beneath you as a body falls on top of you. Instinctively, a scream tears past your lips as you roll so your back hits the ground with a harsh thud that has your vision blurring momentarily.

The zombie snaps its jaw at you, trying to eat you, as you brace your arm against it's chest, trying to hold it back.

You realize in your fall you'd dropped the mop, cursing yourself as you try to reach around for it. You can hear more footsteps approaching and know that if you don't get this zombie off you and start running, you will be eaten alive.

"Get off!" You scream, trying to shove the zombie off of you. "Stop!"

Your head turns, cheek pressing to the ground as you just narrowly miss a bite to your face.

You feel your eyes well, certain that this would be your death, when suddenly the weight is off of you. You blink, dazed and confused, breathless on the floor as you glance up only to see a familiar face.

Suhyeok stands in front of you, staring down at you with wild concern, as your head turns, only to see the zombie that had been trying to eat you on the ground next to you. Your mop, snapped in half, was through it's neck.

You can hardly believe your eyes.

"Suhyeok..."

"Y/N..." Suhyeok breathes, shaking his head as he reaches for you, pulling you up to your feet as you latch onto him desperately.

It's so nice to see another person, alive, but even more to see Suhyeok.

Holding you in front of him, Suhyeok's eyes glance around you frantically, looking for any injuries as you stare up at him in disbelief.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Suhyeok breathes, "you haven't been bit have you?"

Panting, you shake your head. "No, no... Suhyeok--"

Whatever you're about to say is cut off as a loud screech catches your attention, both of your heads glancing back to see a handful of zombies headed right your way. Instantly, Suhyeok's grip shifts to your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

"We've gotta go. Come on!"

He pulls you with him, racing right for the stairs you'd been aiming for. Instead of going down as you'd intended to, he races up the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you desperately try to keep up.

It isn't until you reach the third floor that he turns, moving into the hall as Suhyeok continues to pull you with him. You both narrowly avoid zombies, with Suhyeok having to kick a few out of the way. Eventually, Suhyeok slips into a classroom, the both of you stumbling in breathless.

There's a zombie on the other side of the classroom, to which Suhyeok quickly lets go of your hand to race at it. Using the stable point of a desk, he kicks it across the face before grabbing one of the chairs and using it as leverage to force the zombie out the other door.

He slides the door shut instantly, using the chair to lock it shut before moving to the curtains across the far wall, shutting them all.

You watch him, breathless, wide eyed, completely useless, in disbelief that he was even in here with you.

Once Suhyeok's satisfied with the room and the both of you safe, at least temporarily, he finally turns back to you. He takes your hands in his, brushing back your hair and holding you close.

"I was so worried," he breathes. "On-jo said they lost you in the haste of everything."

You already feel like a mess but the tears that well in your eyes is inevitable. You'd been so scared, so alone, that the sight of the person you'd wanted to see the most is enough to send you into a fit of despair.

Suhyeok's eyes widen, instantly panicked.

"Y/N?" He calls, voice pitching. "Y/N? What's wrong? Are you hurt? Were you bit?"

Raising your hands to hold his own, you shake your head.

"No, no," you whisper, meeting his eyes. "I'm okay, I promise. I just... I was so scared."

Shoulders falling, Suhyeok frowns down at you.

"I won't leave you alone again, okay? I promise."

Nodding, you lean into his touch.

"The others," Suhyeok breathes, as if suddenly remembering. "They're alive... I left to look for you but they're... they're okay. We'll get back to them, yeah? I'll keep you safe."

Your relief at your friends being okay is immense, squeezing his hands as you nod. But the fact that Suhyeok had left them to find you... it's more than you can handle.

Smiling softly, Suhyeok leans forward, pressing his lips against your own in a gentle, warm but brief kiss. Your eyes flutter shut at the action, relishing in the warmth and safety of the feeling, meeting his eyes once more as Suhyeok pulls back.

"We'll get you a better weapon than a mop, too, yeah?"

For the first time since this all begin, you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head.

The classroom buzzed with a strange energy, an odd mix of fear and camaraderie. Despite the ever-present moans and thuds of the undead outside, the boys managed to find ways to distract themselves from the grim reality. The latest distraction? Wujin’s endless monologue.

"You know," Wujin began, leaning back against the wall with the confidence of someone who definitely thought they were the main character, "if we survive this apocalypse—and I mean if—I’m taking Y/N out for a fancy dinner. Like, steak, dessert, the whole deal."

The group burst into laughter. Dae-su nearly choked on his biscuit, while Cheong-san shook his head with a grin.

"Bro, you can’t even afford steak," Cheong-san teased. "Your wallet’s emptier than the cafeteria right now."

"First of all," Wujin retorted, holding up a finger, "rude. Second of all, Y/N is worth it. He’s got that whole ‘strong and silent’ vibe going on, you know? Like, the kind of guy who could carry you bridal style through a horde of zombies and still look cool doing it."

More laughter erupted, and even you—sitting across the room sorting through supplies—couldn’t help but crack a smile. Wujin was nothing if not persistent.

"You’ve got it bad, huh?" Dae-su said, nudging Wujin with his elbow.

Wujin sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. "Of course I do! Have you seen him? He’s like... the human equivalent of a survival handbook. Practical, reliable, and ridiculously good-looking. If I had a chance, I wouldn’t just shoot my shot—I’d cannonball into it."

Suhyeok, who’d been leaning against the wall a few feet away, stayed silent. He twirled a metal pipe in his hands, his expression unreadable.

"Y/N’s great and all," Cheong-san said, throwing a glance in your direction. "But don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?"

"Me? Dramatic?" Wujin gasped, mock-offended. "It’s not dramatic to acknowledge greatness when you see it. He’s a ten out of ten."

The group burst into laughter again, but Suhyeok barely reacted. He simply shrugged, his voice calm as he said, "Yeah, Y/N’s cool."

Wujin grinned, turning to him. "Right? I mean, come on, Suhyeok, even you’ve gotta admit he’s a catch."

Suhyeok gave a nonchalant hum, his tone light. "Sure. He’s a good guy." His fingers tightened on the pipe for just a moment before he set it down, his movements smooth.

The conversation drifted to other topics, but Suhyeok’s mind stayed stuck on Wujin’s words. The casual teasing and compliments shouldn’t have bothered him, but they did.

He glanced at you across the room, the corner of his mouth twitching up as you focused on organizing the supplies. You were completely oblivious to Wujin’s crush—and to Suhyeok’s growing jealousy.

Later that night, the group settled down, some asleep while others kept watch. You slipped away with Suhyeok under the guise of checking the rooftop, craving a moment of peace.

As you leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushing against your skin, you sighed. "You know, Wujin’s been talking about me all day. He’s funny, but man, he really doesn’t stop."

Suhyeok leaned beside you, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, he’s got a lot to say."

You chuckled, completely missing the edge in his tone. "He’s harmless, though. Honestly, it’s kind of sweet. I think he—"

Before you could finish, Suhyeok turned and kissed you, cutting you off mid-sentence. The force of it pushed you back against the railing, his hands gripping your waist firmly. The kiss was intense, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back all day and finally snapped.

You froze for a moment before kissing him back, your hands clutching at his jacket. When he finally pulled back, his lips red and slightly swollen, you were left breathless.

"What the hell was that for?" you asked, your voice low and shaky.

Suhyeok’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. "You really don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?" you asked, genuinely confused.

He smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw. "You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t care who else thinks they have a shot—you’re mine."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. "Wait… is this about Wujin? You’re jealous?"

Suhyeok didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed you again, rougher this time, his hands sliding up your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss grew sloppier, your breaths mingling as his lips moved down to your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp as he nipped at your skin, his grip on you tightening.

Your hands moved to his shoulders, as he trailed down to your pants, pulling them down with a firm tug, making you gasp with surprise.

“Here? What if someone–” he interrupted you with another searing kiss as he tugge your boxers down too, leaving your lower half bare.

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small packet of lube (magician I tell you), and ripped it open with his teeth. You simply stared at him wide-eyed, wondering where the damn thing came from. Suhyeok merely smirked, and poured the cold liquid onto his fingers, watching it run down to his palms.

He gently turned you around and prodded one lubed finger against your ass, slowly inserting it, with you covering your mouth. He then added one after the other– and soon, three fingers were steadily pumping in and out of you.

Your back arched, pushing forward into the wall in front of you– hands digging into the paint, coming off with flecks in your nails.

Deeming you to be prepped enough, Suhyeok removed his fingers and replaced them with his erection, his pants hanging low at his ankles.

He pressed the tip in– followed by the rest of his length, until he fully bottomed out inside of you. He groaned at how your hole was clenching tightly around his cock– feeling every twitch and pulse.

“Gonna move now baby,” he uttered before pulling out all the way before slamming back in. You moaned at the feeling– almost forgetting that the zombies or your friends could hear you at any moment. 

Suhyeok turned you around to face him– having an almost death grip on your waist. One of your hands tightly clutched his shoulder, while the other covered your mouth so that you wouldn’t let out any noises.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning with almost every single thrust. You felt so fucking good around his cock.

"Suhyeok," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Someone could walk in."

As if on cue, the rooftop door creaked open.

Both of you turned, startled, to see Wujin standing there, his face a mix of shock and horror.

"I—I was just—" Wujin stammered, his eyes darting between you and Suhyeok. "You know what? Nope. Didn’t see anything. Carry on."

Before either of you could say a word, Wujin spun around and bolted, the door slamming shut behind him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. "Great. This is exactly what I needed."

Suhyeok laughed softly, still thrusting gently inside of you, "Guess we don’t have to keep it a secret anymore."

"Yeah, and now I get to deal with Wujin thinking I’m a jerk."

"He’ll get over it," Suhyeok said, pulling you closer. "And if not, who cares? You’re mine, Y/N. That’s all that matters."

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you love it," he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple, before pulling out and slamming back in again with full force– making you let out an almost pornographic moan in surprise.

It was going to be a long night.