#switch!chris

“What are we doing here?” you asked, kicking a pebble in front of an abandoned gas station. You looked over at Chris, who was unfolding the crumbled map he had shoved in his backpack. “Are we fucking lost?” you asked, raising your tone. Chris grumbled, ignoring your questions as he tried to read the map.

“I knew I should’ve brought Biana…” he mumbled, turning to hold the worn map up to the blazing sun. “Yeah, so you could sleep with her?” you scoffed, walking closer to him. “What! No!” he shouts, his eyes squinting, following the faded lines on the map. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, right, surprised you don’t have something deadlier than the virus,” you muttered under your breath. Chris shook his head, running a hand through his hair. You stumbled over a rock while walking towards the entrance of the gas station.

The world wasn’t always like this, empty, deadly. It had been years since you stepped foot inside a normal gas station that wasn’t torn to shit at least. The outbreak caused the whole world to crumble down, and many people died or turned into flesh-eating monsters. You walked around the building, seeing the busted windows and empty shelves, and trash scattered on the floor. Your mind is replaying moments when you used to go on late-night gas station trips with your friends.

Meanwhile, Chris sighed, accepting the fact that you were both indeed lost, the map that Matt had given him was shit. All the drawings faded, and the paper was worn from being used this whole time. There were rumors about some kind of sanctuary from other people who stumbled across your camp. Chris had hoped that’s where Nick was, as they got separated before the outbreak.

He walked inside the gas station, stepping over the broken glass, eyes scanning his surroundings to find you. He heard a low growl further into the back of the building, and his hand grabbed his gun from his waistband. Holding it up as he slowly walked towards the back. His shoes crunching as he stepped on a piece of glass, making his way towards the noise.

You stood frozen, eyes locked on the image in front of you. A man, or someone who once was a man. Now, a zombie is tied to a chair, growling, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Chris drew closer to where you were standing, seeing the zombie try to break the restraints. His hand rested on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You shuddered at his touch. Images of the man's life flashed through your mind: laughter, joy, his family, and you held back tears.

Another thing that came with the outbreak was that you were now able to see the life of zombies; all you had to do was look into their eyes. You tried to avoid doing that as often as possible, but there were some instances. Chris knew of this, and it was one thing he was actually sweet about.

“Hey, don’t stress about it,” he whispered, turning you to face him instead. “That’s not him anymore,” he continued, pulling you into a hug, his hand cradling your head against his chest. You stood outside the backroom, by the counter. Closing your eyes as the echo of a gunshot rang through your ears, as long as you thought about something else, it would all be fine.

Your mind wandered back to life before the outbreak, when you were with your family, friends, when life was normal. Back when all you had to worry about was how well you would do on tests or if you would have enough money for your morning coffee before heading to campus.

“Let’s go,” Chris muttered, slinging his bag back onto his shoulders. The tone of his voice went back to normal, his gaze only looking ahead, as if you weren't there.  The walk back was quiet; you stared at your feet the whole time. Chris only acknowledged you once he stopped at a nearby stream to fill his water, handing you it to take a drink.

“We’ll keep looking tomorrow; it’s getting late.” He said, screwing the lid back on the water and shoving it back in the side of his bag. This had gone on for weeks already, Chris dragging you to look for his brother. And then complaining after the fact that he should’ve brought someone else.

The others at the camp had teased and said it was only an excuse to spend time with you, but you knew better. And for whatever reason, Chris hated you, despised you even, or it felt like it at least. You never said no to helping him find his brother Nick, although you never personally met him. You both would walk deep into the woods and the rest of the city, sometimes miles. Lots of the time, you would find things in abandoned houses or cars to bring back to camp, and some days you would find nothing. Since all cell towers were down due to the outbreak, there was no way to possibly get into contact with other survivors, unless you happened to stumble across them on your journey.

As for Nick, no one had any idea where he was, but Chris and Matt had hoped they would see him again one day. Matt had gotten sick a few weeks before the time your group had found a new sanctuary, which is why he stayed back. When Matt went with you both, it seemed as if Chris would be overly rude to you. Not acknowledging you at all, or even looking at you. He would often snap if you and Matt were talking too loud or laughing at something dumb, muttering about how he had to concentrate.

Back at the camp, you and Chris stood outside of the big gates waiting to be let in. Upon arrival, everyone had to undergo an examination to make sure they weren't bit or hurt. They had built special cubicles for showers, where you had to sanitize after the full body examination. You walk out of the cubicle, a towel wrapped around your body, subtly bumping into Chris on your way out. He groans, pulling the towel tighter around his waist. He would never admit it but his eyes were glued to the sway of your hips as you walked away.

The night came fast, everyone headed to their bunkers and assigned spots for the night, sadly, it was your turn to keep watch with Chris. You groaned, getting up from your cot and making your way down the hall, your eyes glazing towards the room where Matt stayed. You peeked inside the door, seeing someone lay a cold rag on his forehead, you felt immense pain for him.

No one had any idea what was wrong with him, and the medicine supply was running low.

“Hey,” he croaked out, turning over to face you as you kneeled over where he lay.

“You look like shit,” you whispered trying to lighten the mood. He let out a dry laugh, followed by a groan. “So, any luck?” He asked his voice so quietly you had to lean closer. “No,” you replied back. He simply nodded, turning back on his back, before muttering something else. “Keep an eye on Chris for me? He can be an idiot sometimes,” he gave you a small smile.

You let out a laugh before slowly making your way out of the room. Chris grabbed your wrist, startling you. “What did you say to him?” He asked, his voice hushed as he eyed you. Rolling your eyes you pulled your arm back. “None of your business…” you muttered walking away from him. He caught up with you moving in front of you to block your path.

“Actually it is my business, he’s my brother.” You walk past him clearly annoyed. “Let’s just go to the tower already,” you mumble, grabbing your bag off the floor. You both make your way outside, the sun is setting and everyone else is making their way to the bunkers, except for ones who are on night duty. Chris climbs up the ladder to the look out tower first, throwing his bag over the edge, he doesn’t even offer you a hand up just starts setting up his things.

“Thanks,” you say sarcastically, beginning to unload the things in your bag. The lookout tower was the highest point in the camp, there was someone there at all times of the day and night. Everyone had a routine of keeping watch and it rotated every few days, making sure that none of anything would get inside. A few hours passed and someone had brought you both up a plate of food from dinner, tonight  was roast chicken and vegetables. You both sat opposite sides of the tower eating your meal Chris occasionally looking over the railing.

“I was asking how he was doing,” you whispered into the dark night. Chris looked up from his food, eyeing you. “What?” He asked, confused. You shifted setting your plate aside as you met his gaze. “You asked what I was talking to Matt about.” Chris looked down. “Oh, well why didn’t you tell me earlier,” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You shrugged looking away, the cool breeze fanning your face. “I just worried about him,” you sigh looking down at your hands. You couldn’t handle losing someone else close to you, you already lost so much. Chris nodded, standing and peering over the railing.

“Do you like him or something?” He asks, trying to hide the weird tone in his voice. You shake your head looking up at him. Chris turns looking down at you still sitting in the corner. His gaze lingers for longer than necessary. “I mean I don't care if you do…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “You can like whoever,” he turns back still mumbling about how much he doesn't care. You stand up looking over the rail, noticing a movement near the trees. Chris is so caught up in his rambling he doesn't notice.

“Like if you were to date him, I would care… wouldn't!” He raises his voice slightly. “Like pfft whatever date him, who cares? not me” he says trying to convince himself more than you. The rustling continues, your eyes glued to the subtle movement in the trees. “You're not even listening to me. I just want to make sure you know that I know, that I don't care,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously. You don't register a single thing he says, your heart beating faster as you hear them draw closer.

Chris opens his mouth to say something, but is quickly cut off by your hand covering his lips. You pull him down with you, hiding behind the wall. “Shut up,” you whisper, watching his eyes widen. You peek through the peephole carved into the wooden frame of the tower, only to see a deer. You let out a sigh of relief, watching as the deer peacefully eats grass on the side of the road. Chris shoves your hand away, grumbling under his breath.

“A deer? You're spooked because of a deer?” he chuckles, joining you in watching the animal. You roll your eyes. “Maybe I would be able to focus, if you'd stop talking.” Chris groans, sitting back down his back against the wall. “Yeah well I'm the one with the gun,” he mutters. You eye him sitting in the opposite corner.

“Yeah and I'm the one with a brain,” you grin at him. Chris scoffed, reaching his arm out and gently shoving your shoulder.

“Whatever,” he mutters. You giggle, shoving him back, you both shove each other back and forth. Breaking into a quiet laughter, until you feel his palm cup your boob by accident.

You gasp, looking down at his hand, his eyes widening, seeing your reaction. “Get off my boob, pervert!” you playfully shout. Chris is so shocked by your reaction that he squeezes your boob. You let out a whine, feeling a heat bubble in your lower stomach. Chris grins, squeezing again, moving closer.

“Mm, you're liking this, aren't you?” he asks, squeezing again. “Shut up…” you trail off, eyes rolling in the back of your head as his thumb circles your nipple through your shirt. Chris grins, rolling your nipple between his fingers, feeling them harden beneath his touch. “I knew you were the submissive type,” he chuckles under his breath.

Before you could even register his words, you found yourself rolling your eyes. You couldn’t let Chris have that satisfaction, no matter how good it felt. He always had to push your buttons and be cocky. Your hand slowly moved the waistband of his jeans, smirking against his lips. Chris, of course, didn’t stop you from thinking you were looking to grip something else.

Your smirk deepened, fingers trailing along his waistband, feeling for the stock of his gun, the thing you were actually after. He noticed too late his lips moving in sync with yours, totally caught off guard when you pulled his gun from his waistband. Your hand held a firm grip on the weapon, pulling away slightly. You knew Chris kept his gun with the safety on when he wasn’t in dire need of it anyway. He groaned, noticing you grab his gun, his teeth sinking into your lip.

“Sneaky girl…” he trailed off, sucking your bottom lip before he slowly pulled away. His hands up in surrender as you held the gun in front of you, smirking. “Get on your knees,” you whispered, motioning the gun towards the floor. Chris scoffed, but he shifted so he was on his knees, looking up at you. You grinned at him, never realizing how good he would look like this.

“What now?” he raised an eyebrow at you, clearly enjoying this. You stepped forward, gun still in hand, tapping the muzzle against his cheek. “Open,” you said, voice low as you stared deep into his eyes. His eyes widened at your command, his body betraying him as he slowly parted his lips. You chuckled slowly, inching the gun closer to his mouth, seeing the way his lips wrapped around the end. He looked so good like this, drooling, dripping from the side of his mouth as he sucked gently on the gun.

“That’s it, keep going,” you cooed, tugging his hair and pulling his mouth further on the gun, making him gag. Chris played along, his tongue swirling around his muzzle. The situation gave him a rush of adrenaline, his pants getting tighter by the second. At the first sight of you letting your guard down, he gripped your wrist, pulling away from the muzzle, a string of saliva connecting him to the gun. You tried to get away from his grip, causing the weapon to slip from your hand, to and he quickly grabbed it.

“Time for me to have some fun,” he smirked. You sat on the floors, legs slightly spread as he nudged your covered cunt with the muzzle of his gun. He chuckled, pressing it further against you, your hips buckling rapidly trying to relieve the pressure between your legs. “You like that slut?” He tsked slapping your thigh causing you to whine. The sight before him was memorizing, the way your hips steadily grinded against his gun, your nipples hardening under your shirt.

He tossed the gun after a few minutes; it landed to the side of you both, still glistening with your arousal and his spit. “I knew you always wanted me,” he growled, tugging at the fabric of your thin shirt. “Don’t kid yourself,” you sighed, finally gaining back some sort of control. His hands ripped your shirt in one swift motion, the loud rip echoing through the other quiet night. His eyes landed on your boobs, taking in the sight of them.

He wasted no time to lean down, latching onto your nipples sucking roughly, messy. His tongue swirled around your peak, spit dripping from his chin. You were moaning tugging his hair, causing him to whimper around your skin. Chris pulled back giving your other boob the same attention, with a small twist. His teeth sank into your soft skin, marking you. You let a soft squeal back arching from the bite, which he soothed with his tongue. His hands traveled over your body, fingertips gliding along your warm skin.

“Fuck..I want you so bad,” he whispered his breath fanning over your ear. You pulled back staring at him, biting your bottom lip. “So you're admitting you have a thing for me?” you grinned watching him groan.

“I don't what… this is-” he got cut off by your finger pressing against his lips. “Keep going,” you whispered, watching as he simply nodded and went back to touching you. His hands fumbling with the buttons of your shorts. Your panties were soaked once he slowly pulled them off of you. “Hm, you're drenched,” he smirked, his fingers dipping between your legs, feeling your arousal.

“Can you fuck me already?” you teased, poking his chest with your finger. He pressed you against the wooden floor of the tower, hand firmly on your lower stomach. “Shit…” he groaned, gliding his tip through your folds, feeling how wet you already were. Chris bit his bottom lip, his hands holding your hips as he slowly slipped inside of you, his fingers digging into your nails. You watched his face contort in pleasure as he finally entered fully inside of you. “Fuck…I-” he gets cut off by you flipping over being on top. He’s speechless, as if the wind is knocked right out of him, his back pressed against the floor as you sink fully onto him.

“That’s not fair,” he mutters, hands gliding up your ribcage and finding your boobs. You roll your hips against him, moving slowly, his mouth dropping open in the process. His hands squeeze your boobs, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “Fuck, Fuck…” he continues, his hips snapping up to meet yours in frenzy. You smirk down at him, hand sneaking up to grip his throat, thumb pressed against his pulse point. “You like this, don’t you?” you ask, tightening your grip. He only nods, far too distracted by how your walls clench around him repeatedly.

“Say it bitch!” you shout, slapping his face and catching him off guard. He groans, loving the sting that now embodies his skin, his hands gripping your hips as he takes control of your movements. “I love this pussy, you not so much,” he says, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head, boobs bouncing with every movement. “Fuck off,” you snap back, gripping his wrists and holding them above his head as you take back control. Your thighs are shaking as you feel your release washing over you.

“Shit…I’m gonna fill you up so bad,” he mutters, his hips bucking to reach his own orgasm. You both stop for a moment, breathless as you slowly grind over him, milking his cock. He feels your release coat the base of his cock, letting out a loud moan as ropes of his warm fill you to the brim.

You fall onto his chest, breathing heavily, feeling his cock slip out of your used hole with a soft plop. Chris sighs heavily, his hand coming down to stroke your hair as you lie against his chest.