#underzom

The sound of a rifle goes off, and is then shortly accompanied by thrilling and lively chase music. Black, gray, and white pixels dance on a screen, each coordinated perfectly in their own digital way. They come together to form a movie, one showcasing a twisted tale of men being hunted for sport. Despite sounding thrilling and entertaining at the time the two viewers picked it up, it turns out the movie itself is pretty boring. Zom, currently leaning on the arm he has sitting on the arm chair, has read the short story the movie is based off of. It was an important part of many literature classes he had growing up on the surface. The other person watching it, Lament, who’s currently laying on the opposite side of the couch with his feet propped up on Zom’s lap, hadn’t read the story. Not many books fell into the underground, anyway, and those that did were destroyed by water damage.

“This movie sucks,” Lament mumbles, peeling his eyelight from the screen to look up at the ceiling. “The book’s gotta be better, right?” Zom shrugs in response, letting out a slow yawn.

“Eh. It was just as boring. Quicker read, though.” He picks up the remote to shut it off, but gets nudged instead. Frowning, he sends a mean glare at his friend, clearly annoyed. “Dude, your socks stink, don’t do that.”

The opposing skeleton’s mangled mouth twists into a crooked smile, snorting at his response. “You have month old take out boxes littering your room. That’s nasty.”

Zom mutters something angrily as a response. Or, lack of response. Lament snorts again, having his fun with picking on Zom. He’s the only one enjoying it, though, considering Zom gets up shortly after.

Watching as his pal walks away, Lament sits up fully after laying down for a majority of the movie. He huffs in annoyance as he grabs the remote to turn down the movie, upset that the only person he can poke fun at has disappeared into another room. Whatever he’s doing, Lament’s unsure of, but it’s not like it’s a weird thing for Zom to get up without saying anything. He’s done it a thousand times, and he’s not expected to stop now. About five minutes later, Zom walks out, in a brand new shirt. He sits down on the couch and places a decorative pillow (courtesy of Alphys wanting to make their new home feel like one after years of a nomadic lifestyle) between him and Lament.

“Don’t touch me. That kid’ll kill me if I run out of clean shirts to wear out to eat later today,” Zom, very rudely commands.

Lament takes it as a challenge.

First, he tries verbally inching his way to get to him. Hoping Zom will set aside the pillow so they can return to the position they were previously in, Lament starts.

“It’s not like you can’t do laundry before you have to go. Besides, it’s just socks.” Admittedly, he sounded a little defensive. Not on purpose or anything, but because he knows that Zom eventually gives in during an argument. His ass is too lazy to find a compromise, so instead he just gives in with obvious displeasure.

And arguing with Zom is never boring, so why wouldn’t Lament start one?

“Out of detergent. And your socks reek of dirt, mold, and cheese. Your socks are rank, no thanks,” Zom responds. He shoots Lament a disgusted look at the mention of how bad that guy’s socks actually smell. Lament shrugs it off, not fazed by his comment.

“Now you’re just being hurtful.”

“Shut up.”

The bait wasn’t taken, unfortunately. Lament squints his eyes at him, trying to think of another plan. Sneak attacks? Maybe, but Zom’s been shown to be pretty good at deflecting those when on guard. The guy never talks about his AU, but it’s pretty obvious he’s dealt with sneak attacks, jumpscares… a lot, actually. Convincing isn’t working, and usually never works. The guy’s as stubborn as a mule when agitated.

Maybe slowly inching there until Zom forgets or gets comfortable might be the best approach… And the most boring. Damn.

A while later after putting up with the (excruciating (not really)) barrier between him and Zom, Lament lets out a sigh of relief after the movie ends. He hopes Zom put up the barrier for only the movie, because keeping this bit up this long is childish.

Zom just so happens to be incredibly childish because the pillow still hasn’t moved. Not an inch.

Leaning back to stretch, Lament puts his arms up on the couch. Despite his hand being inches from Zom, he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t move?

Either he doesn’t care, or he’s too caught up trying to pick another movie from this shitty free movie app. This might be good. Either way, there’s a chance Lament could get away with scooting closer.

Another moment passes, and Lament scoots closer. Then closer. And again. closer. By this point, the pillow is nearly fully behind him, and his arm could comfortably wrap around Zom’s shoulder. Still, he’s unsure if Zom is incredibly focused, or just doesn’t care. Testing that theory, Lament brings his hand down, but before he can make contact, Zom shoots a nasty glare.

“I said don’t touch me.”

Lament frowns and gives him a bored look. “You can wash the shirt.”

“Too lazy,” is the response he’s met with as Zom turns to continue scrolling on the TV. Lament rolls his eyes, annoyed, and puts his hand on Zom’s shoulder anyway.

Zom turns to look at him, but is quickly stopped as both arms are wrapped around him, and a.. surprisingly heavy weight knocks him down to lay back against the armrest of the couch. Within a matter of minutes, the two are in a cuddling position on the couch. As soon as everything settles and what just happened catches up to Zom. he begins to retaliate, pushing against Lament to get him off.

“Dude! What the hell! I just— I told you I don’t want you touching me! Now I’ll have to wash everything, and take a shower!” His exclamations are ignored as Lament picks up the remote Zom dropped and puts on a random movie, not caring enough to read through the summary.

“Thank god you’ll finally take a shower.” He chuckles to himself, but is cut off by an instinctive ‘ow’ as he feels Zom lift a knee (with struggle) to (weakly) knee him.