Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As the bright rays of sunlight slipped behind the crumbling facade of the abandoned hospital on the outskirts of the city. Haechan and Silus pushed open the creaking door, their hearts racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

It was a stupid idea, but Silus had convinced Haechan either way. Going out and exploring abandoned buildings could be fun if you had friends to do it with, and Haechan wasn’t exactly keen on letting his friend go alone.

Although Haechan and Silus hadn’t known each other that long, they’d gotten fairly close. He was Haechan’s only friend really.

Haechan had moved to the new, unfamiliar city about a month ago and knew no one. Silus had randomly come up to him and they started talking. It turned out that Silus’ favourite hobby was exploring abandoned buildings. Haechan quickly got dragged into it, and he wanted to stay friends with the man so he went, even if he didn’t really want to.

“I’ve been meaning to come here forever!” Silus said as he took the first step into the building.

“Be careful.” Haechan said as he cautiously turned his flashlight on and began looking around the place.

The air hung heavy with the scent of decay and dust flew all around them. The paint was peeling off the walls and small puddles of water littered the floor. An eerie silence enveloped the entire building, sending a chill down Haechan’s spine.

Now that Haechan was looking around, he sort of wanted to turn back around and leave. But Silus seemed more excited.

“Looks like we’re the first ones to come here!”

They began to explore a little further into the building and entered different rooms. They saw patient rooms, offices, surgery rooms, and supply rooms.

“All the stuff is still here!” Silus shouted as they walked into a crusty supply room that had shelves full of medical resources, long rusted and unusable.

Haechan shone his flashlight onto the shelves and stopped for a moment on a couple vials that were lined up neatly. The glass was dusty and difficult to see through, but he made out some different coloured liquids.

A few white coloured vials and then a singular black coloured vial. He knew if he lingered on it too long, Silus would get curious, but it was too late.

“What’s that?” The guy asked as he went over to the vials and with no hesitation reached out to grab them.

“Don’t!” Haechan yelled. “You shouldn’t touch anything.”

Silus’ hand slowed for a moment before he said, “What is the worst that can happen?” In the next moment, his hand grabbed the black coloured vial and took it off the shelf. “See, no issues.” He said with confidence.

Haechan’s breath regained its normal speed as he realized nothing was wrong. That only lasted for a second though. “It’s leaking!” He said as he pointed towards the black liquid dripping from Silus’ hand.

Silus looked down and realized that the vial had cracked open from his grip, slightly cutting his palm. His hand was now covered in the liquid along with a bit of his blood. “It’s no big deal.”

“That’s mixed with your bloodstream, you probably have to go to a real hospital now to check it out.” Haechan said as he worriedly moved towards his friend to check on his wound, making sure not to touch the liquid at all since he felt wary about it and didn’t want to get some kind of sickness.

Before he could even make it to Silus’ side, the man’s entire body jerked slightly. Haechan involuntarily took a quick step back. “Are you okay?” he asked as he observed Silus for a moment. “Are you trying to scare me?” He asked as he took another step back and attempted to make eye contact with Silus.

A slight growling noise was coming from the other and Haechan was a bit freaked out. “Hey.” He said while waving his hand at the other who wasn’t responding.

Finally, Silus’ head snapped up at an inhuman speed and looked directly at Haechan, who’s flashlight was now shining straight on the man… or thing.

Silus’ once blue eyes turned to a charring black, taking over even the whites of his eyes. His veins began taking a darker colour and his skin became paler. It all happened in a matter of seconds and Haechan was confused and caught off guard. His hands were now slightly shaking and a look of fear was plastered on his face.

Before Haechan could say anything else, Silus lunged at him in a sudden, jerking motion. Its fingers stretched out like claws, trying to rip at Haechan’s skin and its mouth opened hungrily to bite at the man. It was hard for Haechan to even refer to Silus as a human anymore.

With a yelp, Haechan managed to back away enough to dodge the initial attack with a shocked expression and a racing heartbeat.

“What the fuck!” He yelled as he focused his flashlight back on Silus and saw that he was running straight at him. The sudden light slowed him down for a moment, but not for long.

Without any thoughts, Haechan immediately began running the other way. Whatever had happened to his friend, there didn’t seem to be any way to help him and Haechan wasn’t risking getting infected by anything either. He wanted to survive.

He dove through the door, dodging another attack and ran as fast as his legs would take him towards the exit. He memorized the way they went through the hospital so they wouldn’t get lost, and he was glad he did.

He was scared so badly that no noise would even escape his throat anymore. He wanted to scream but couldn’t.

He saw the faint light of the remnants of the sunset and sprinted with all his might towards it, not sparing a look back to see how far behind Silus was, or whatever that thing was. Haechan could not consider that his friend.

A wave of emotions was spreading throughout Haechan. He was obviously scared and a bit distraught. His friend just got taken over by some sort of disease. His only friend that he had and now he was running for his life from it.

His breathing was radical and the air was struggling to enter his lungs. His heart was beating so fast and loud, it was the only thing he could hear. His feet pounded into the ground as he continued running towards the vibrant city, away from the remnants of that cursed hospital.

His adrenaline was through the roof and he had no thoughts of looking back. Although he was upset about whatever happened to Silus, which he assumed had to do with that black liquid, he was too cowardly to try and help his friend in any way. He didn’t even know if there was a way to help. His best option was to save his own skin.

The only thoughts in his head were telling him to keep running, not to look back, and to get as far away as possible. He dropped his flashlight somewhere along the way but didn’t care.

He made it to the fence the two friends had climbed in order to get onto the premises of the hospital and hopped it with a bit of a struggle since it was so tall. He ran towards the rest of the city quickly, struggling to keep up his chosen speed, slowly starting to stagger.

Finally, he took his first step onto the road and into the city.

After that, he didn’t remember anything after stepping in the city.

Chapter Text

Haechan woke up with a start. His entire body was covered in sweat and his breath was uneven.

His immediate thought was about the hospital and Silus. What happened? Why was he safely in his bedroom? Was it all a dream?

Haechan slowly sat up and instantly felt the soreness in his body, especially in his legs. From running.

It had to be real, it felt too real to be just a dream. He looked himself over and saw a bit of dirt that had gotten on him from the hospital. He froze. There was no denying it.

He quickly jumped out of bed in search of his phone, he needed to try calling Silus, to make sure he was alright. Deep down, Haechan knew that his friend wouldn’t pick up, but he still had to try.

The phone rang and rang, until it went to voicemail. Haechan tried twice more but to no avail. Silus was not picking up.

Haechan needed to clear his head, get his mind off of the events of last night, at least for a little while. So, he went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He felt grimy and gross. He couldn’t believe he had been in his bed in that state.

Although he initially went to shower in order to think of other things, his mind kept going back to the night before. The only reason Haechan could think of for his safe return home was that he blacked out. When his adrenaline got too high yesterday, he just forgot the rest of what happened.

Tears began streaming down his face. Silus was no more. What had they done?

Once he was fully cleaned and feeling fresh, he turned on the news and made himself some food. His mind was racing, but he was just trying to distract himself.

He made a decision in the shower that he would go out back to the hospital to search for Silus after he ate to see what happened. It was a stupid and reckless decision, but Haechan didn’t know what else he could do in his situation. He couldn’t just accept the fact that his friend turned into some sort of zombie creature. Maybe he would go to the police and tell them what happened, if they'd believe him.

He took a bite of his cereal and sat in silence as he watched the news from his small tv screen. Then, it came up.

Haechan’s eyes widened in horror as he saw a bus full of people appear on the screen and in the center of them was Silus. People had noticed his odd behaviour and were all standing far away from him, but in the end, they were all trapped on the bus together.

In a flash, Silus began lunging at the passengers and scratching and biting them. The people began convulsing and shaking before they too began attacking others. Their eyes turned black and their skin pale, the same way Silus had just last night.

It was breaking news, being broadcast all over the city, maybe even the country. And that’s how everything began. The start of the zombie apocalypse.

–

Two months passed since then, and the whole country was in shambles. The disease spread like wildfire, from city to city, border to border.

Those infected were labeled ‘Zombies’ just like Haechan had called them. No one knew how the disease spread, or how it came to be except for Haechan. He knew ‘cause he was there. He saw the black liquid infect Silus and how it entered his blood stream.

Protected bases were created from city to city in order to keep the zombies out. They were run by the government, who sent out units to search for a cure and fight off zombies. Extensive research was being conducted to try and create a cure and everyone was terrified. No progress had been made in relation to finding a cure at all, the only thing humanity figured out was that zombies' deaths were similar to humans. They could be killed.

Haechan was not in a protected base, he was in the heat of the danger, left in the original infected city. He wanted to get to the nearest base, it was his best chance of survival. This city however, was completely abandoned. He wanted to leave, but it was too dangerous, and there was no way he could escape on his own.

The problem however, was that he hadn’t seen a single person for the past month and a half. For the first couple weeks after the outbreak, he had tried to escape and couldn’t leave in time before he was caged by the zombies and had to retreat back into a random building. He somehow managed to break into one of the apartments and made it his personal base.

Surprisingly, he was holding up well. He managed to scavenge food and water from nearby grocery shops that he could safely get to, but stocks were running low. He’d have to move soon. He had already explored the entire building he was currently in to find any helpful resources. He got some medicines, food, and clothes to wear.

His supplies were running low. He had gotten sick during the past month and had to use all the medicine he found, his water supply was very low and he was left rationing his food. If he stayed much longer, he would die.

‘I have to get out of here.’ He thought to himself.

Haechan leaned against the wall of the apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. The quiet was unnerving with the only sounds being the distant groans of zombies and the occasional crash of debris from the decaying city. He had grown accustomed to solitude, but the reality of his situation loomed heavy. It was still hard to believe this was his life now. Everyone’s lives were forever changed.

He had to leave. No matter what.

Haechan rummaged through his meager supplies, counting the cans of food he had left. It was just enough for a couple more days if he rationed carefully. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of despair tug at him. He missed Silus. He missed his life, no matter how boring and lonely it was. Now it all felt like a distant dream.

After gathering what little he could, he carefully packed a small backpack with essentials: a couple of cans of food, a half-empty water bottle, and a small knife he had found in the kitchen. The knife felt reassuring in his hand, a small measure of protection against the horrors that awaited outside. The only thing he could protect himself with.

He had not run into a zombie since Silus and in the initial first weeks. He hadn’t needed to kill any yet, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to if the time came. They were once humans too.

He glanced out the window, the sun setting behind the crumbling skyline, casting shadows across the streets. Nightfall was dangerous. Zombies were most active, their gross forms shuffling through the remnants of what used to be a bustling city. Haechan needed a plan, a way to get out.

Step one: find a safer place.

Haechan had a bit of a problem. Since he was pretty new to the city, he only knew the area around his own apartment, and now the one he was currently staying in. Other than that, the remainder of the city was a mystery. First, he needed to scope out the area, find the safest direction to go and hope he’ll find some sort of shelter. Maybe even survivors, though that was unlikely. Mostly everyone had made it to the government protected zones, leaving very few behind. Haechan just happened to be unlucky.

He threw on a hoodie and pulled the hood up to obscure his features, and carefully opened the apartment door. The creak echoed in the silence, making him freeze momentarily. What if the zombies heard it?

He listened intently, straining to catch any sound. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the dark hallway, trying his best to control his heavy breathing.

Moving cautiously, he made his way down the stairs, avoiding the few loose floorboards he had learned about during his time here. The main entrance was barricaded with debris, but it wouldn’t hold the zombies out forever.

As he reached the ground floor, Haechan took a moment to gather his courage. The front door was ajar, and the last thing he wanted was to stumble upon a wandering zombie. He peered through the crack and saw the street bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, shadows flickering in the distance.

With his heart racing, he pushed the door open and stepped outside, the cool evening air hitting his face. It felt refreshing yet ominous. He could see a couple of zombies wandering aimlessly in the street. His spit caught in his throat as he observed them grotesquely walking and making odd sounds.

‘Stay low and stay quiet.’ He thought. ‘Don’t be seen.’

He crouched low, his heart pounding as he navigated the rubble of the street. He made his way in the opposite direction of the zombies he saw, moving from shadow to shadow. The world felt surreal. The vibrant city he once knew was now a haunting shell of itself. Not a single person in sight, except for the undead. It was awful.

He continued down the long and empty street, luckily nothing happened yet. He was safe.

He was actually surprised at how little action he was seeing. He had expected to get attacked and probably killed in his first couple minutes out of the apartment, but he was still fine. For now he remained cautious, not letting his hopes get too high.

He had been walking for a while. He had no way to check the time, but knew he had been out for at least twenty minutes which was a new record for him. ‘I’ll be fine.’ He thought. He didn’t see any particularly intriguing buildings to make his base, but then again he probably shouldn’t be too picky. ‘Nothing is going to happen.’ He reassured himself.

He was wrong. As quickly as those thoughts came, they were chased away by an immense terror. A zombie, a little bigger than himself, jumped out at him from behind a car.

A scream escaped Haechan as he jumped back, missing the teeth of the zombie by a hair. The knife in his hand almost dropped to the floor but he managed to keep a tight grip on it.

His scream however, attracted the attention of other zombies nearby. The zombie continued attacking him and the only thing he could do was dodge. He tried swinging his knife but it was of no use. His aim was awful and nothing hit the zombie.

When he looked back for a way to escape, he saw at least ten other zombies coming his way, all their eyes locked onto his figure, ready to devour him. Not in a good way.

He began to shake before he slightly regained a clearer mind. He sliced at the closest zombie one more time before making a run for it. All the zombies were behind him and he had a clear path ahead of him, thankfully.

But how long could he outrun the zombies? Would he be able to find a safe shelter and get away?

That didn’t matter, all that mattered was that they didn’t catch up to him yet. He strained his muscles and continued to push his legs to go as fast as possible. He felt like a track star.

He didn’t even realize as tears began forming in his eyes. What hope did he really have at getting away? Doubtful thoughts flooded his mind.

He looked back and saw the zombies gaining on him, running fast and with intent. It was horrifying.

Tears began falling down his cheeks, leaving his face wet and uncomfortable. Small sobs escaped his mouth as he pushed himself to run faster. He had never been so scared in his entire life.

He was just a helpless human in a city full of undead creatures all thirsting for his flesh.

“Hey!”

The voice startled Haechan but he didn’t slow down his pace. His eyes widened and searched his surroundings to find the source. He thought he was imagining things, he hadn’t heard another human voice in ages.

“Over here!” The voice shouted again. This time Haechan pinpointed its location and snapped his head to find it. It was the voice of a man and it sounded like it was Haechan’s salvation.

He couldn’t exactly make out the man’s every feature, but he did make out his figure. Without another thought, Haechan redirected his course towards the human. He used all his strength in the final stretch. His eyes were still blurred as he ran closer, almost tripping over debris on the roads, his body scraping against broken cars and metals.

Once he was close enough, the man threw his hand out and grabbed Haechan by the arm. Then, he pulled and Haechan was thrown into the door behind him, which shortly slammed shut behind the man.

Haechan fell to his knees, struggling to catch his breath as he threw a hand up to his heart. When his body slowly regulated itself, he finally opened his eyes properly and wiped off the remaining tears, observing his surroundings.

He seemed to be in the staircase of an apartment building.

Suddenly, loud bangs came from the door and startled, Haechan backed away further. The zombies made it to the door and were trying to break in.

Calmly leaning against the door was a very attractive man, looking to be around the same age as Haechan. The man who had saved Haechan.

Haechan took a moment to take in the man’s appearance. His hair was tousled and he had an intimidating aura surrounding him. But nevertheless, he still saved Haechan.

“Thank you.” Haechan breathed out, still not fully recovered from the chase that just ensued.

The man nodded slightly, and then took in Haechan’s appearance. At that moment, Haechan was kneeled on the floor, breathing hard. His hair was a mess and sweat covered his tan skin. His eyes were full of tears and a small pout adorned his lips. His clothes had cuts because of the zombies trying to kill him moments earlier.

The look over was very quick and in an instant the calm demeanor of the man disappeared. “Are you stupid!? Why are you out in the streets in the middle of the night? That’s when the zombies are the most active.”

Haechan was a bit startled by the man’s voice and flinched. “I-I had no choice. I needed to find food and water.” He mumbled.

“It couldn’t wait until morning?”

It technically could but Haechan didn’t want to admit that. “No.”

Suddenly annoyed, Haechan made a move to stand up but immediately stopped in his tracks. He finally was able to focus on the feelings of his own body and felt a sharp pain on his stomach.

He looked down and noticed a deep gash in his skin, blood spilling out of it at a semi-alarming rate.

The other man hadn’t noticed it because of the dark nature of the stairwell.

“Ah.” Haechan breathed out in pain. It really stung. He put his hands to his stomach to try and keep the blood from coming out. He’d definitely need stitches of some sort.

At that, the man looked back over to Haechan. “What happened?” He asked.

“I got cut.” Haechan whimpered out. It hurt really bad. He didn’t know how he didn’t feel it earlier.

“Get away from me.” The man said as his eyes darkened on Haechan. “You got infected.”

“I didn’t.” Haechan stated. He knew he didn’t because the zombies hadn’t touched him. His blood hadn’t mixed with their DNA. That’s how they spread. Haechan knew that he got cut by those damned cars his body scraped against.

“And how do you know?” The man asked him as he slowly stepped away and raised a gun to Haechan.

Haechan’s eyes widened in shock. Why did this guy have a gun?!

“I swear!” Haechan shouted. “I scraped against a car, the zombies didn’t touch me.” Haechan was pleading for his life.

A skeptical look appeared on the man before him.

“The zombie's DNA needs to mix with your blood in order to turn.” Haechan rambled on. “I’m safe, I promise.”

“How do you know that?”

“I witnessed it.” Haechan said. “Please, don’t shoot me.” He pleaded.

The man slowly lowered his gun and put it into his back pocket, then he walked past Haechan towards the staircase.

“Where are you going?” Haechan asked.

“To my base.”

“Do you…do you have medicine and medical supplies?” Haechan questioned. All of his had run out and he needed them. He still held his hands tightly against his stomach, grimacing in pain.

The man looked back at him before he took a couple steps up the stairs.

“Please! You can’t just leave me here.” Tears threatened to fall from Haechan’s eyes again.

With a short look back, the man paused. After a second, he turned fully around and grabbed Haechan to help him stand.

“Fine, I'll help you and then you’ll leave.”

Haechan nodded in understanding and gripped onto the man’s shoulders as he stabilized himself.

The man looked at Haechan’s stomach and found the wound. “Keep your hands on it to stop the bleeding.” He said as he wrapped his arm around Haechan’s shoulder to support him. Then, the two of them started their climb up the tall stairs.

Chapter Text

Haechan was struggling to make his way up the endless staircase, each step shooting pain through his wounded side. The man beside him had chosen to set up his base on the top floor, and with the elevator out of order, they had no choice but to climb all the way up.

The pain was intense, though he knew the wound wasn’t fatal. If he got it cleaned and properly tended to, he’d be fine after a bit of rest. But that meant staying with this stranger he knew almost nothing about.

“What’s your name?” he asked, grimacing as he took another strained step. The man had wrapped an arm around his waist to help support him.

“Why do you need to know?” came the curt reply.

Haechan’s mouth fell open slightly. He only wanted a way to address the guy, not interrogate him.

“Alright, thanks for the help… man,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. Who did this guy think he was? A secret agent prying into his life? Haechan just wanted the basics.

With a sigh, the man finally said, “Mark.”

A hint of satisfaction crossed Haechan’s face. “I’m Haechan,” he replied, feeling like he’d won a small victory. At least he knew the guy’s name now. He felt the urge to befriend the man, no matter how difficult it may seem. He was the only human Haechan had seen in over a month.

Mark paused at the top of the stairs and pushed open the door to the floor. They were finally done with the damned stairs.

Haechan blinked in surprise. The hallway was pristine, with polished floors. It was an unexpected contrast to the rough stairwell, almost like stepping into another world.

‘Looks like the zombies haven’t gotten here.’ He thought. Many buildings had become infested, zombies filling all the floors and laying waste to them.

Mark helped Haechan walk through the hall and away from the staircase. Mark guided him down the hall toward a solid-looking door at the end. When they reached it, Mark typed in a code with quick precision, and the lock clicked open. He carefully helped Haechan over the threshold and shut the door behind them.

Inside, the space was clean and organized, with a sense of calm that immediately put Haechan at ease. The furniture was minimalist but comfortable. Mark led him over to a couch, easing him down gently, which Haechan appreciated. He thought the man would throw him down or something.

“Nice place,” Haechan muttered, his voice weak.

“Wait here,” Mark said, completely ignoring his comment while heading into another room. A moment later, he returned with a medical kit in one hand and a damp cloth in the other.

Haechan watched him with a curious gaze. “Are you a doctor or something?”

“No,” Mark replied curtly, kneeling beside him and carefully pulling up his shirt to reveal the wound. “But I know enough to get by.”

The quick action of Mark lifting his shirt made him flinch slightly as he felt a cool air hit his wound. He also felt fairly exposed in front of the stranger, raising his hands to cover himself a bit.

Mark raised an eyebrow as if to tell Haechan that he had to see the wound in order to help him. Slowly putting his hands down, Haechan watched as Mark began to prepare his materials.

Haechan winced as Mark began cleaning the injury, the sting of the alcohol sharp against his skin. He took a steadying breath, glancing around the room. The place felt lived-in, yet there was little to give away any personal details. No photographs, no mementos. Just the bare essentials.

“You live here alone?” Haechan asked, trying to distract himself from the pain. That was only the beginning of the pain.

“Yes,” Mark replied without looking up, focused on his work. “Questions won’t help you heal any faster, you know.”

“Just making conversation,” Haechan murmured, a hint of irritation in his voice. Despite the man’s cold demeanor, there was something about him that felt… safe. Or at least reliable.

After a few quiet moments, Mark finished cleaning the wound, his hands steady and efficient. “You need stitches.”

“I figured.” Haechan mumbled in disappointment. He knew he’d need them but still hoped he wouldn’t, if that made any sense. The cut had stopped bleeding by then, but stitches were inevitable.

“Um… I don't have any anesthetics or sleeping pills left.” Mark said.

Haechan’s eyes widened. “What?” Without those he would be awake during the entire process. He would feel every puncture and it would hurt like hell. “You’re joking.” Haechan said with a small fake laugh.

Mark stayed silent.

Haechan swallowed hard, his heart racing. “You can’t be serious. There has to be something we can do!”

Mark’s expression hardened as he looked at Haechan, his eyes steely. “I took this kit from another apartment. It doesn’t have anything useful in it.” He showed Haechan the meager supplies, the lack of pain relief evident in the starkness of the med kit.

Haechan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. “What do you mean, you just took it? You didn’t check for anything important?”

“Look, we don’t have time for blame. We need to deal with this now.” Mark’s voice was flat, lacking any warmth. “It’s just a wound. I can stitch it up. You’ll have to deal with the pain.”

“Deal with it?” Haechan’s voice quivered. “You can’t expect me to just sit here and take it!”

“Just focus on something else,” Mark said curtly, already reaching for the antiseptic. “The longer we wait, the worse it’ll get. You can handle a little pain.”

“Are you even listening to me?” Haechan shot back, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t just a scratch!”

Mark met his gaze, unflinching. “You wanted to survive this. You wanted my help. This is part of it. So either you toughen up, or you risk more serious problems later.” He turned his attention back to the supplies, the tension thick in the air.

Haechan took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Fine. Just… get it over with.” He tried to ignore the icy detachment in Mark’s tone, focusing instead on what was coming.

Haechan was confused for a moment as Mark entered another room in the apartment and came back a second later with a shirt.

“For your mouth.” Mark stated as he rolled it up and passed it to Haechan.

Haechan caught it and waited for Mark to be prepared.

“Have you ever done this before?” Haechan asked, not wanting to trust him too much off the bat.

“I’ve stitched myself up a couple times.” Mark replied. He finally looked like he had all the materials ready to go. He looked up to see Haechan nervously sitting on the couch, not knowing what to do.

“That position isn’t going to work.” Mark said while looking Haechan over, “you need to be more stable for this.”

Haechan raised a brow, unsure of what Mark meant. “Any suggestions?”

A short pause ensued as Mark thought for a moment. He looked at their surroundings to figure out a good position before speaking again.

“Just… sit on my lap I guess.” Mark said, his voice flat. “It’ll keep you steady and give me better access to the wound.”

With wide eyes, Haechan blurted out “What? Seriously?”

“Unless you want to do it standing up, there’s no better option.” Mark said bluntly, his patience wearing thin. He then made a move and sat down onto the couch with his supplies next to him.

Haechan hesitated, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety. But he knew he couldn’t afford to be stubborn right now. Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly moved, settling onto Mark’s lap. The closeness was unnerving, and he tried focusing on anything but the awkwardness of the situation.

He barely knew this man and here he was willingly sitting on his lap. At least it was for medical reasons.

“Just try to relax.” Mark said, his hands steadying Haechan’s shaking arms. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

Mark’s words were strangely comforting to Haechan. Maybe because they were so different from what Haechan expected the man to say. He nodded in response, swallowing hard as he attempted to focus on anything but the immense pain he was about to feel. “Alright, get it over with.”

Mark looked from the wound to Haechan’s face, his expression unreadable. “Here we go.”

Haechan prepared himself.

Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself as he positioned the needle and thread. “Just breathe through it. I’ll keep it quick,” he said, his voice calm and clipped.

Haechan nodded, trying to steady his own breathing. The warmth of Mark’s body beneath him was distracting, but he forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. “Okay, I can do this,” he muttered under his breath.

As the needle pierced his skin, Haechan flinched, a sharp pain jolting through his stomach. “Ow! That hurt!” he exclaimed, gripping Mark’s shoulder instinctively.

“Just a little more,” Mark said, his tone steady. “Focus on something else.”

“Um…” Haechan stammered, the pain clouding his thoughts. “I don’t know.”

“Just think of something. Picture it in your head,” Mark instructed, his focus unwavering as he continued to stitch.

Haechan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to imagine anything, but the sharp tugging sensation was hard to ignore. “You’re… you’re doing this way too fast!” he protested.

“I told you I’d keep it quick. If I go slow, it’ll take longer and hurt more,” Mark replied, his voice almost clinical. “You can handle this, Haechan.”

Haechan gritted his teeth, trying to push through the discomfort. “You really think I can just block it out?”

Mark glanced up at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “You don’t have a choice. It’s either this or risk infection.”

The urgency in Mark’s voice pushed Haechan to focus. “Okay, okay. Just… keep going,” he said, willing himself to relax despite the pain.

The shirt Mark brought Haechan to bite on was long forgotten, never even making it into his mouth. Haechan leaned forward onto Mark’s chest, his hands digging into the man’s skin, undoubtedly leaving some sort of marks. Mark’s vision was not affected by Haechan’s shift in position at all.

A small yelp escaped Haechan as the needle pierced him again. He was surprised he hadn’t started crying yet.

Mark’s grip was firm, his hands steady as he continued. Haechan felt the pressure build, but he concentrated on Mark’s breathing, the rhythm calming him down. ‘I’m okay, I’m okay.’ He repeated in his head.

“There you go,” Mark said, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his tone. “Almost done.”

Feeling a mix of relief and residual pain as Mark tied off the last knot, he finally opened his eyes, meeting Mark’s gaze. “You really do know what you’re doing.” He breathed out, still in a daze from the pain.

Mark smirked slightly, a flicker of warmth breaking through his otherwise cold demeanor. “Just don’t make a habit of getting hurt, alright? My supplies will run out.”

“Noted,” Haechan replied, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thanks, Mark. I owe you one.” His breathing was a bit heavy now as his previously tense body began relaxing deeper into the warmth of Mark’s body.

Mark shrugged, carefully setting the supplies aside. But instead of getting off Mark’s lap, Haechan lingered there, uncertainty swirling in his mind. He felt a strange comfort in the closeness, the heat radiating between them.

“Uh, you okay?” Mark asked, his voice slightly softer now, still not by much, noticing Haechan’s hesitation.

Haechan shifted, acutely aware of their proximity. “Yeah, just… I’m not sure I’m ready to move yet.” He swallowed hard, feeling a mix of vulnerability and a strange sense of safety. His new stitches still hurt a ton and he felt like he would faint if he tried getting up.

Mark raised an eyebrow, his usual coldness replaced by a hint of curiosity. “You know, you don’t have to stay on me like that.”

“I know,” Haechan replied, his voice a whisper. “It just feels easier this way.” He glanced up at Mark, searching for any sign of annoyance but finding only a quiet understanding.

Haechan couldn’t help but notice that the man looked even better close up. ‘Shit, what am I thinking right now?’ Haechan slapped himself internally. Now was not the time for that. The guy was sort of mean anyway.

Mark hesitated, then sighed, “Fine. Just don’t get used to it.”

Haechan chuckled softly, the tension easing a bit. “No promises,” he said, leaning back slightly but not fully detaching himself.

Mark rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that crept back, though Haechan missed it. “You really are something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” Haechan replied with a playful smile. He felt the weight of the moment settle around them, the earlier urgency replaced by an unexpected intimacy? Or was he imagining things?

Mark’s expression softened as he glanced at Haechan’s stomach, now bandaged but still slightly red. “Just try not to move too much. I don’t want you to mess it up.”

“Got it, sir,” Haechan said while raising his hand in salute. “I’ll do my best.”

Comfortable silence enveloped them, and Haechan didn't know how much time had passed. “You’ll need to rest and let it heal for some time.” Mark said more seriously.

“Guess that means I’m stuck here,” Haechan said with a sigh. He kind of wanted to make it to a protected base as fast as possible and now there was a bit of a delay.

Mark gave a small nod, “For now, yes.”

They shared a look, unspoken understanding passing between them. Haechan didn’t know much about this man, but as he looked down at the now covered and wrapped wound, he felt a strange sense of trust. Maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad after all, at least for a short while. The man had helped him after all, despite his odd personality.

Haechan shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the pain radiating from his wound. The quiet stretched between them. Haechan closed his eyes and took some deep breaths, distracting himself from the lingering pain.

Mark on the other hand, observed Haechan’s features, looking him over and seeing the position they were in. The man before him was cutely pouting his lips in pain and his hands were still slightly gripping onto the rim of Mark’s shirt. Their bodies connected and pressed together.

Finally, Haechan broke the silence. “Do you… do this often? Helping people?”

Mark didn’t look at him. “Only when necessary,” he replied flatly, his tone now devoid of warmth. It seemed that question had flicked a switch in the man. Was it a sensitive topic?

Haechan narrowed his eyes slightly. “Alright. Well, thanks, I guess.” He decided not to ask more questions about it, sensing the slight change in Mark's demeanour.

Mark didn’t respond to that and spoke of something else. “I know you want to continue sitting on my lap, but you need to eat and sleep.” Haechan’s cheeks tinted in a light blush at the full realization of their position as he looked away for a moment.

“Yeah, I’ll get off now.” He said, trying to sound indifferent.

Haechan sighed, trying to move himself off the man, but instantly froze. It really hurt to move.

Mark observed this and maneuvered his hands around Haechan’s waist, then he proceeded to lift Haechan off of himself and place him back onto the couch. He was being so gentle with Haechan, it was actually unexpected, but he didn’t say anything to ruin the moment.

Mark then stood up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some food. Haechan sighed, watching as Mark filled a pot with soup and set it on the burner. The silence weighed heavily on him. Mark didn’t even seem interested in the bare minimum of interaction anymore.

Finally, Haechan’s curiosity got the better of him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Haechan ventured, half-hoping for even a hint of a reaction. Mark was the first person he had seen in over a month and he kind of hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Not when there’s nothing worth saying.” Mark’s voice was flat, giving away nothing.

Haechan leaned back, stifling a groan of pain, his frustration mounting. “So, what? You’re some kind of lone wolf, then? Too busy for a little human connection?” It was a bit annoying, how Mark was acting suddenly.

Mark stirred the soup in silence, not even sparing Haechan a glance. “Not my concern.”

Haechan scoffed, muttering under his breath, “Yeah, noticed that already.”

When the soup was finally heated, Mark ladled it into a bowl, brought it over, and placed it in Haechan’s hands with an indifferent efficiency, as though this whole encounter was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. Haechan muttered a quiet “Thanks,” but Mark didn’t really acknowledge it, simply stepping back and taking a seat at a small table near the couch to eat his share.

Haechan took a careful sip of the soup, watching Mark out of the corner of his eye. The man was like a stone wall—aloof, unyielding, and completely uninterested in offering anything more than the bare minimum. Whatever connection he thought they’d just had was nothing apparently. In a split second, Mark went back to his conserved and silent self.

After a while, Haechan’s exhaustion began to catch up with him, the warmth of the room and the relief of the food coaxing his eyelids to grow heavier. As he settled back, feeling sleep begin to overtake him, he yawned.

Mark’s eyes didn’t shift from the window. “Get some rest,” he replied curtly, his tone as cold as ever. “We’ll talk when you’re healed.”

And with that, Haechan drifted into a dreamless sleep, Mark’s presence hovering on the edge of his awareness, remaining distant, detached, and as cold as the night outside. Haechan made little progress in getting to know him.

Chapter Text

Haechan took back what he thought of Mark. Specifically the fact he found him attractive. He was an asshole.

The amount of time it took to seal his wound must have been an anomaly of his behaviour because he hadn’t been nearly as nice since, if he ever spoke to Haechan.

The man was awfully quiet and never started a conversation with Haechan, which was annoying since there was nothing to do but talk. They were in a damn zombie apocalypse!

It had only been about a day since Haechan came to the man’s place and got his stitches done. The only thing Haechan really knew about the man was his name.

He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the pain from his freshly stitched side a constant reminder of the previous day’s chaos.

The room was too quiet, and all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, blending with the unsettling silence that filled the space. He glanced over at Mark, who was seated at the table, studying a tattered looking paper with an intensity that felt like he was trying to solve a puzzle that had no solution.

“Hey,” Haechan tried, his voice a bit weaker than he intended. “What are you doing?”

Mark barely looked up. “Finding an escape route.”

Haechan’s eyes widened. Mark was trying to leave too, not waiting for rescue. Haechan’s pulse quickened. “You’re serious? You think we can just walk out of here?”

“I can, and I will.” Mark stated firmly.

Haechan took a deep breath, steeling himself as he took a steady breath. “Wait, Mark. Before that, we need to talk.”

Mark paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

“I know you’re planning to go out alone, but you can’t just leave me here. I’m not going to just sit around and wait,” Haechan insisted, a fire igniting within him. “We should stick together. It’s safer that way.”

Mark shook his head, returning to the paper that turned out to be a map. “You’ll only slow me down. Once you’re healed, I’ll find my own way.”

“Why would you want to go alone?” Haechan shot back, frustration spilling over. “The world is full of dangers. We have a better chance together.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, and he finally looked at Haechan, his expression unreadable. “I’ve managed fine on my own. I don’t need anyone else, I don’t even know you.”

“But what if you run into trouble? You can’t predict what will happen out there,” Haechan pressed, his voice rising slightly. “And I’m not just some burden. I’ve been trying to get to know you, so you’re the problem.” He shot back.

A small sigh escaped Mark but he didn’t say anything else.

Haechan continued, “I can help you. If we stick together, we can reach the closest government-protected base.”

Mark scoffed, a hint of doubt creeping into his voice. “You really think they’re still operational? They could be overrun, just like everywhere else probably is.”

“Maybe,” Haechan conceded, “but it’s better than wandering aimlessly. There’s a chance they’re safe. We could find supplies, get medical help—anything that can improve our situation.”

Mark studied him, the tension in the room palpable. “And what’s to say I won’t just have to drag you along?”

“Because I want to survive just as much as you do,” Haechan replied earnestly. “You might think you can do this alone, but even the strongest people need help. We can watch each other’s backs.”

There was a long silence as Mark considered Haechan’s words. The map lay forgotten on the table, and Haechan could see the wheels turning in his mind. “And if we get to that base and it’s a dead end?” Mark finally asked, his tone cautious.

“Then we find another way,” Haechan said, feeling his pulse quicken. “But at least we’ll have each other to rely on. I can’t be a burden if we’re working as a team.”

Mark’s expression relaxed slightly, but he quickly masked it with a stern demeanor. “I don’t want to get attached. It’s safer to keep things distant.”

Haechan made eye contact with Mark, his gaze unwavering. “You can try, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’ll be stronger together, and if we’re going to make it, we need to stick together. Just think about it—two people working as one have a better chance of survival than one alone. We can reach that base. I believe it.”

Mark let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. We’ll try it your way for now. But once we reach safety, you’re on your own.”

Haechan couldn’t suppress the small grin that broke through. “Deal. We should prepare ourselves.”

Mark subtly glanced at him, his brow furrowing. “You’re being too eager. You need to rest. It’s not like we can just run out there now.”

“I know that!” Haechan shot back, a mix of annoyance and pain tightening his chest. “But just sitting here isn’t going to help either. We could scout the area, see what’s around. You can’t expect me to just wait for the world to get better.”

Mark sighed, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him. “You’re not in any shape to scout. That wound of yours can take over a month to fully heal.” He said factually.

Haechan bit his lip, the frustration mingling with something else—an urge to connect. “Look, I know you didn’t ask for a companion, but you’re stuck with me for now. At least we could talk, share information and try forming a plan then.”

Mark’s eyes softened just a fraction. “What do you want to talk about?” Finally! Haechan was making some progress. Not only had he convinced Mark to become companions at least for a while, but now he could actually get some information out of him.

“I don’t know,” Haechan admitted, shifting again on the couch, careful not to aggravate his wound. “Anything but zombies. I’m tired of thinking about them. Tell me about yourself. What were you doing before all this?”

For a moment, Mark hesitated, as if weighing the value of sharing anything personal. “I was… working a lot. Trying to save up. Didn’t really have time for much else.”

“Sounds lonely,” Haechan said gently. “Have you ever thought about doing something else? Traveling or something?”

Mark chuckled softly, a rare smile breaking through his usually serious demeanor. Haechan observed it with wide eyes, not expecting a smile, nor a laugh. Haechan felt like he got butterflies in his stomach, but ruled it to just be his healing wound. “Yeah, before the world ended, I was planning to move away from this city.”

“See? That’s something! We can make a plan for when this is all over. Moving, just like you wanted,” Haechan offered, his spirits lifting slightly at the idea. Technically he had just moved here, but with how the city was now, he didn’t mind moving away.

Mark’s expression shifted, something thoughtful in his eyes. “We'll see.” Mark seemed doubtful of that outcome.

Haechan nodded, feeling a sense of companionship beginning to bloom despite the grim circumstances and previous unfriendly moments. “Good. Just you and me, a couple of misfits discovering a new city.”

“Let’s focus on surviving first,” Mark replied, but the corners of his mouth lifted again, a hint of amusement in his otherwise guarded demeanor. Haechan's optimism seemed to be getting to him. Mark also didn't seem sure of the idea of Haechan moving with him.

‘His smirk is attractive’ Haechan thought, before immediately throwing that thought away. Not the time, nor the person for those thoughts.

Haechan shook his head, trying to dispel the distraction. “Right, survival first,” he echoed, forcing his mind back to their immediate situation. “What’s our first move?”

“First, you need to focus on recovery.”

Haechan settled back on the couch, feeling the strain in his side with every small movement. “Okay, I get it. Recovery first,” he said, attempting to keep his voice steady. “But what about food and water? We’ll run out soon.”

Mark glanced over from where he was inspecting the few cans he had left. “I’ll have to go out soon. I can manage it alone.”

Haechan frowned, frustration bubbling up again. “I can’t just sit here while you go out there. I might be new to the city, but I can help you plan. We can talk about what supplies we need, what routes might be safer.”

Mark sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to shake off a headache. “You really want to contribute this badly, huh?”

“Yes! I can’t just be a liability. Let me help however I can,” Haechan replied, determination edging into his tone.

Mark studied him for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright. We can plan a route together.” Mark moved from his spot at the table and sat down on the couch next to Haechan, showing him his map.

“Deal,” Haechan said, his spirits lifting. “So, what do you usually look for when you go out?”

“First, food and water. Non-perishables are best. Canned goods, granola bars—anything that doesn’t require cooking.” Mark leaned back into the couch, the map of the area still spread out in front of them.

“I have a few granola bars left in my bag that could last us a couple days maybe.” Haechan said.

“I thought you said you had no food left and that’s why you were in the city at night.” Mark said as he glanced over at Haechan.

“Forget about that, the important thing is that we have a bit of food.”

Mark sighed but moved on, “We should avoid places with a lot of activity. If there’s noise, it attracts the wrong kind of attention.”

“Right. And since I’m not much help on foot, I can help you figure out where it might be quieter,” Haechan suggested, thinking quickly. “Do you know any stores nearby?” Haechan was obviously going to have to stay in the apartment while Mark went out alone. Haechan actually wasn’t very keen on that because it was a big risk for Mark, but there weren’t any other options at the moment.

“Not really,” Mark admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “I’ve been mostly holed up here since everything went down. I know one place but it’s practically empty now.”

“Okay, then let’s start with what we do know,” Haechan said, trying to keep the momentum going. “We can look for a grocery store or a convenience store. I imagine they’d have supplies, and we should check for the closest routes.”

Mark pulled out a piece of paper, jotting down potential places. “If we can find an alleyway that leads to one of those, I might be able to avoid the main streets.”

“Good idea! And we should think about what time of day is best to go out. It might be quieter early in the morning,” Haechan suggested, trying to keep the brainstorming alive. “We could also think about anything you can use for distraction—something to draw attention away from you.”

Mark nodded, his focus sharpening. “Yeah, noise-making items. I could throw something far away to lure them off my path.”

“Exactly!” Haechan felt a rush of excitement as they worked through potential scenarios together. They were having a productive and normal conversation. Something Haechan found he missed.

As they talked, Haechan felt the weight of his injury lessen just a bit. Sharing ideas with Mark, even in this tense environment, made him feel useful. He watched Mark’s expression shift from cold determination to something slightly warmer.

“We should also make a list of what to keep an eye out for while you’re out,” Haechan continued, his mind racing with possibilities. “Like any signs of other survivors or places that look fortified. It’s also always good to look out for weapons.”

Mark’s brow furrowed in thought. “Good call. We can write down everything we need, and I’ll keep an eye out for anything that looks like it could be helpful, I do have a gun for myself though.”

Haechan shivered, remembering when the man pulled the gun on him the other day. “Why exactly do you have a gun?” He asked cautiously.

“I grabbed it off a zombie police officer.” Mark said it was a normal sentence. “It’s our best chance at quickly killing zombies.”

Haechan nodded, feeling a sense of accomplishment as they began to formulate a plan, although the fact that Mark had a gun was a little chilling.

Then they went back to discussing their plan for how Mark would go out in search of supplies.

As they finalized their strategy, Haechan realized that even in a world turned upside down, they were building something important together—a partnership that, despite the odds, gave him hope for their survival, even though they weren’t the tightest of friends. Yet. Haechan was determined to form a close bond between them. He couldn't explain why, but it's what felt right.

Chapter Text

It was decided that Mark would go out the next morning. Basically everything was prepared for him to leave, they just had to wait until sunlight. The zombies seemed slower in the light and less enthusiastic, it also seemed their eyesight was worse. According to Mark and his experiences.

It was also decided that Haechan would stay behind of course and take that time to recover. But he would also be there worrying whether Mark would come back or not. Technically the scavenge for food and water wouldn’t take an extremely long time, but due to unpredictable zombies and unknown territory, Mark told Haechan to not start worrying until nightfall. So basically an entire day.

Haechan just nodded but knew he would be concerned much earlier than nightfall if Mark still hadn’t returned. Mark was the only person he could rely on at the moment. Not to mention the only person, period. As much as Haechan didn’t want to admit it, he needed him. And as much as Mark was cold and standoffish, Haechan took a little liking towards him. He couldn’t help it.

Mark just happened to be the finest man Haechan had ever seen on Earth, he couldn’t deny that anymore. Although his personality was a tiny bit off, he had this way about him that was naturally attractive. Maybe the way he carried himself, his vibe? Haechan didn’t know, but he felt drawn to him.

That’s why he was a little nervous to get super close to him again. Like when he got his stitches.

Now, Mark was preparing to switch Haechan’s bandages. Haechan would like to do them himself, however the way they were wrapped would make it a bit difficult, and Mark had offered.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as Mark gathered the supplies for redoing Haechan’s bandages. Haechan sat on the couch, his heart racing, not just from the pain in his side but from the proximity to Mark. Despite their rocky start, there was a charge between them that Haechan couldn’t ignore.

“Hold still,” Mark said, his tone clipped but not unkind. He moved closer, the scent of his cologne mixed with something sweet filling the air. Something intoxicating. Haechan felt a strange warmth creeping up his neck as he tried to focus on anything but the heat radiating off Mark.

“Easy for you to say,” Haechan replied, attempting to keep his voice steady. “You’re not the one getting bandaged like a mummy.”

Mark’s lips twitched, the hint of a smile almost breaking through his serious facade. “If you’d stop squirming, this would be easier.” He carefully unwrapped the old bandage, his fingers brushing against Haechan’s skin. A jolt of electricity shot through Haechan at the contact, and he bit his lip to suppress a gasp.

He couldn’t help squirming around a bit as he waited for the bandage to be applied. Obviously applying the bandage wasn’t painful in nature, but when it was tightly wrapped around the wound and pressing against it, it hurt a little. At least that’s how it was when Mark applied the bandage immediately after his stitches were done.

“Just… don’t be too rough, okay?” Haechan managed, feeling more vulnerable with every brush of Mark's fingers.

Mark’s eyes flickered up to meet his, the intensity in them catching Haechan off guard. “I won’t make you scream. At least not like that,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Haechan felt his cheeks heat at the double meaning and quickly looked away, focusing on the wall. “Right. Just… get on with it.” He wanted the process to go quicker, but at the same time wanted it to last longer.

With a slight smirk, Mark pressed a fresh bandage against the wound, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Stay still.” He said, tone even. He squeezed Haechan’s thigh in order to distract him and stop his motion.

In response Haechan whimpered, eyes locked with Mark. At the same moment Mark had pushed the bandage on his stomach and tightened it, so to Mark it probably seemed like the sound could have been from the pain. But Haechan knew it wasn’t. A furious blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked away quickly, trying to hide.

Mark’s eyes twitched when he heard the noise, but decided not to mention it, choosing to think it was the pain.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Mark said, his tone softening slightly. He was trying to distract himself from the feelings Haechan’s sound gave him. “It could have gotten infected.”

Haechan calmed his breathing down and composed himself. If Mark didn’t notice it, then it didn’t happen. At least Mark didn’t mention it.

“I guess I owe you my life, then,” Haechan replied, trying to keep the mood light, but his heart wasn’t in it. He felt like he owed Mark a lot after knowing him for such a short amount of time. There was something about Mark’s presence that made him feel both vulnerable and strangely safe.

“Just don’t get used to it,” Mark said, working with focused precision. “I’m not your babysitter.”

“Sure, sure,” Haechan teased, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this.”

Mark’s fingers paused for just a heartbeat, and the air between them thickened. “Enjoying what? Bandaging you up?”

Haechan met his gaze, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. “No, I mean… this. This moment.”

Mark’s expression shifted, something unguarded flickering in his eyes. “You think this is a bonding experience?”

“Maybe,” Haechan replied softly, his heart racing. “We’re in the middle of a disaster, and yet here we are, trying to keep each other alive. That has to count for something.”

Mark finished applying the bandage and leaned back, his fingers brushing against Haechan as he pulled away. “I guess it does.”

The lingering touch sent shivers down Haechan’s spine, and he held Mark’s gaze, feeling a magnetic pull. The tension between them was palpable, charged with an intensity that made Haechan’s breath hitch.

“Stop staring,” Mark said, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

Haechan smirked, leaning slightly closer. “I’m just trying to appreciate the moment, you know?”

Mark rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” Haechan replied, enjoying the playful banter. “But you’ve got to admit, this is nice—just the two of us, no zombies to worry about.”

Mark looked at him, something softer lingering in his expression. “Just focus on healing. That’s what you should be doing.”

“Sure, but it’s not every day I get to spend this kind of time with someone like you,” Haechan said, trying to keep the mood light even as his heart raced. “You’re kind of an asshole, but I think I can work with it.”

Mark shook his head, a reluctant grin breaking through. “Just keep your mouth shut while I work, alright?”

“Not a chance,” Haechan teased, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around them. In the midst of chaos, they were finding a way to connect, each small moment drawing them closer together. Even by the tiniest amount.

As Mark moved to put away the supplies once finished, Haechan couldn’t help but watch him, captivated by the way he moved with purpose. Haechan leaned back, quietly watching as Mark methodically put away the medical kit. The way Mark’s fingers moved, deft and careful, caught his attention. He noticed the prominent veins on Mark's hands, a reminder of the strength and resilience beneath his calm exterior. He couldn't help imagining what it'd be like to touch those hands... or have them touch him. Wait what?

“Hey,” Haechan called softly, his voice breaking the silence and changing the direction his mind was just going. “You don’t have to keep acting so tough, you know.”

Mark paused, his back still turned to Haechan. “I’m not acting,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “This is just how I am.”

“Maybe,” Haechan said, shifting slightly on the couch to face Mark more fully. “But it feels like there’s more to you.” Haechan somehow managed to make the conversation a bit of a deeper one.

Mark turned slightly, his eyes meeting Haechan’s. The intensity of their gaze held a moment of vulnerability that sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine. “Relaxing isn’t exactly a luxury we have right now.”

“Maybe not,” Haechan replied, his heart racing. “But it could help. We’re in this together now, and it’s okay to be… real.”

Mark stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Haechan nodded, feeling emboldened. “I do. We’ve been through some stuff already. You taking care of me, planning our next steps—there’s a bond forming here.” Haechan sounded very confident in his words and it was a little overwhelming.

Mark’s expression softened, and Haechan felt a flicker of hope. “I don’t know if ‘bond’ is the right word.” Mark was a little surprised at how quickly Haechan was opening up and how comfortable he seemed to be with him already.

“Why not?” Haechan asked, leaning forward slightly, his voice a whisper. “We’re both fighting to survive, and we’re doing it together.”

Mark’s gaze lingered on Haechan’s lips before meeting his eyes again. “You’re not afraid to push, are you?”

“Not when it matters,” Haechan replied, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I want to know you better. I see the way you care, even if you try to hide it.” He teased. He did notice how Mark’s demeanor slightly changed when he was aiding Haechan's wound. He became a bit softer and more understanding.

Mark stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating towards Haechan. “You really want to get to know me?”

“More than anything,” Haechan confessed, feeling a surge of intimacy between them. He really had nothing else to do, and he was interested. “I want to understand the person behind the tough exterior.” Haechan looked up at Mark, who looked back at him with a slightly blank look.

Then Mark’s expression shifted, uncertainty battling with something deeper. “Maybe.” He shortly replied.

“I understand,” Haechan said softly, his heart racing. “But I’m not going anywhere, like I even can. Trust takes time, and I’m going to wait.” He sounded so sure of himself.

Mark searched Haechan’s eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze revealing the conflict within. “I'm at a loss.”

“Just be yourself,” Haechan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Let me in, even a little.”

Their eyes locked, the moment stretching into something profound. The air was heavy with unspoken words, and Haechan felt an urge to bridge the gap between them. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against Mark’s forearm. The contact sent a jolt of warmth through him.

Mark glanced down at Haechan’s hand, then back to his face. “You’re different,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice. Mark still couldn't believe what was going on.

“Maybe I’m just brave enough to show how I feel?” Haechan replied, his heart pounding as he leaned in closer. He didn't really know if that was the reason.

Mark hesitated for a moment, the tension between them almost palpable. Haechan could feel the warmth radiating off Mark, the intensity of his presence overwhelming in the best way.

“We’ll talk more after the expedition,” Mark said, his voice low and earnest.

“Okay,” Haechan replied, his pulse quickening. “Whenever you want.”

Without breaking eye contact, Mark reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Haechan’s face, his fingers lingering against his skin. “You really are something else,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice sending a shiver down Haechan’s spine. Mark didn’t even know what he was doing, his hand just acted on its own. The look on his face was gentle and a little dazed.

A slight blush erupted onto Haechan’s face as he cutely looked at Mark. Or at least Mark thought the look was cute, but he would not admit that.

Haechan smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through him. “And you’re not as tough as you think,” he teased softly, a playful glint in his eyes. He could not believe the progress he had made with Mark. He was glad that Mark was opening up, deepening the bond Haechan spoke of.

Mark chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the atmosphere shifted again, the tension transforming into something more tender. “Maybe.”

–

The morning light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a pale glow across the room. Haechan lay on the couch, still half-asleep, the remnants of a restless night clinging to him. He could hear the soft sounds of Mark moving around in the kitchen, the sounds of him preparing to leave.

After a moment, Mark appeared in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the morning sun. He looked resolute, dressed in a sturdy jacket and worn boots, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Haechan felt a pang of worry at the sight. It felt strange to be so concerned about someone he just met, but he couldn’t stop the rising feeling.

“Hey,” Haechan called softly, pushing himself up on one elbow, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “You’re really going out alone?” They had already discussed this in depth, but he still wasn’t sure. Could Mark handle himself well out there? He had survived on his own for this long going out alone so Haechan didn't need to be so worried.

Mark glanced back, his expression serious. “I need to find food and water. We can’t stay holed up here forever.”

“But it’s dangerous out there,” Haechan said, anxiety creeping into his voice. “What if something happens?”

Mark’s gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of understanding passing between them. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” He still couldn’t understand why Haechan sounded so genuinely worried for him. They still had only just met. But it felt wrong not to reassure him, especially with the large concerned eyes on the younger. “We have to eat, and if I can find a place that’s still stocked, it’ll make things easier for both of us.”

Haechan opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Mark’s eyes stopped him. There was a determination there, a resolve that Haechan had come to admire. “Just… come back, okay?” he said instead, his voice barely above a whisper. He really hoped Mark wouldn’t take all day.

“I will,” Mark assured him calmly. He took a step closer, the distance between them almost palpable. “Stay here. Keep safe.” Mark's hand unconsciously stretched out and patted Haechan's head, ruffling his hair.

“I will,” Haechan promised, feeling a mix of worry and admiration, as he nodded. The physical contact also caused a small amount of blush to form. “Just be smart out there.” Mark didn’t seem too worried about himself at all. According to him, he had gone out a few times before to get supplies. Mark had revealed this all to Haechan when they were creating their plan a short while ago.

With one last look, Mark turned and made his way to the door. Haechan watched as he slipped on his gloves and adjusted his backpack, every movement deliberate and calculated. There was a quiet strength in him that Haechan found both comforting and unsettling.

As Mark opened the door, the creak echoed through the stillness, and he paused for just a moment, looking back at Haechan. “You’ll be okay?” he asked, a hint of concern breaking through his stoic exterior.

“Yeah,” Haechan replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” Although it was dangerous, Haechan still kind of wanted to go out too. He didn’t really like being kept up in a building for the foreseeable future. And he felt useless, not being able to physically help Mark in any way while he was out there, risking his life for the two of them.

Mark nodded, then stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind him. Haechan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the silence of the room enveloping him. He couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, but he knew Mark was capable. He had to believe that.

As the minutes stretched on, Haechan found himself glancing at the door more often than he intended. He tried to distract himself, picking at the remnants of food from the previous day, but his mind kept drifting back to Mark. The thought of him navigating the dangers outside filled him with a sense of dread.

As Mark finished his descent down the stairs and stepped outside, the chill of the morning air hit him, a stark reminder of the reality he was facing. He took a moment to gather himself, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The city felt different now—once vibrant and alive, it was now a ghost town, the remnants of civilization littering the ground.

With purposeful strides, Mark moved down the cracked pavement, his senses heightened. He kept his backpack tight against his back, the weight of it a comfort as much as a burden. He remembered Haechan’s anxious expression before he left and felt a surge of determination. He had to make this trip worth it. He didn’t know why, but he felt inclined to trust in the other and even found himself taking a liking to the man and his presence. Being alone for so long may have taken a bit of a toll on him.

Seeing another human, Haechan, the other day for the first time was just as much of a shock for Mark as it was for Haechan. He almost thought he was imagining things when he saw the man running away from tons of zombies. It was a crazy sight.

Shaking his head, he headed toward a nearby convenience store he’d noticed on previous outings. It was small, but if it hadn’t been looted, it might still hold some supplies. As he approached, he scanned the area, looking for any signs of movement. The streets were empty, save for a few stray animals rummaging through debris.

The glass door of the store hung ajar, a clear sign that it had been breached at some point. Mark pushed it open slowly, the creak of the hinges breaking the heavy silence. Inside, the air was stale, tinged with the smell of rotting food and dust. He pulled his shirt over his nose, trying to shield himself from the odor.

Moving cautiously, he navigated through the aisles, the shelves half-empty and disorganized. He picked up a few cans that remained, checking their expiration dates with a quick glance before tossing them into his backpack. He felt a rush of satisfaction with each item he added—each can was a small victory, a step toward ensuring their survival.

In the back, he spotted the cooler. Mark approached it, hoping it hadn’t been completely emptied. To his relief, the door swung open, and he found a couple of bottles of water still inside, albeit warm. He grabbed them, tucking them carefully into his pack. Hydration was essential, especially with the way things were. He was surprised at all the supplies he was finding.

As he continued his search, he remained hyper-aware of his surroundings. Every sound made him pause—a rustle, a distant crash, the echo of his own footsteps. The tension kept him alert, every instinct screaming at him to be cautious. He couldn’t shake the feeling that danger was always lurking just outside his line of sight.

He had his fair deal of encounters with zombies over the months of the apocalypse and would like to keep those interactions short and limited. He’d gotten injured a few times and had to care for his own wounds, doing his own stitches to his best ability before. He didn’t really want to do that again.

Mark finally made his way to the snack aisle, where he found some granola bars and bags of chips, some candies were also left on the shelves. He hesitated for a moment, thinking about Haechan. He swears he remembered Haechan mentioning that he missed having whatever snacks he wanted, candy included. Although they weren’t the most necessary and they might not be the healthiest options, they were quick energy, and he hoped Haechan would appreciate the treat. He grabbed as many as he could fit into his pack, filling it to the brim, feeling a mix of practicality and a desire to bring a little comfort to their grim situation.

As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of movement outside the store window. His heart raced as he crouched low, peering through the grimy glass. A small group of figures wandered by, their shadows stretching ominously across the pavement. They were a few zombies, slowly limping around with blank stares. Mark held his breath, feeling the adrenaline surge through him. He couldn’t risk being seen; he needed to wait until they were gone. There was no need for him to start a fight when they didn’t notice him.

Time stretched as he remained hidden, the sound of his heartbeat drowning out the world around him. When the figures finally moved on, luckily in the opposite direction of his apartment, he exhaled, relief washing over him. It was a reminder of how quickly things could turn dangerous.

Once he felt the coast was clear, Mark slipped out of the store, keeping low and moving quickly. He retraced his steps back toward the apartment, the weight of his pack feeling a bit lighter with each stride. He focused on Haechan, imagining the look of relief on his face when he returned with supplies. He felt like he had a bit more motivation to make it through. Someone was relying on him now.

As he approached his building, the anxiety began to melt away, replaced by a sense of accomplishment. He had managed to find food and water, a small but necessary victory in their fight for survival. He entered the staircase and began his climb, now fully safe from the zombies grasps.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Haechan heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. His heart raced as he turned toward the door, hoping for the familiar silhouette to appear. He waited, breathless, until the door creaked open, revealing Mark standing there, looking a little disheveled but alive.

When Mark stepped inside, the sight of Haechan waiting for him brought a bit of warmth to his chest. It was so different having someone waiting for him when he returned rather than coming back to an empty apartment.

In that moment, Haechan realized just how much he valued Mark’s presence. The amount of relief he felt when he returned safely was immense. Mark also realized that he too valued Haechan’s presence, a little.

“Are you okay? Did you find anything?” Haechan asked, relief flooding through him. He wanted to get up and make sure Mark was fine but still couldn’t. He was slowly healing though, and could move around the couch with barely any pain.

Mark stepped inside, his backpack bulging. “Yeah, and I got a little,” he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “I didn’t run into anything too dangerous, but we should stock up while we can.”

Haechan’s heart swelled at the sight of Mark, safe and sound. “You scared me, you know that?” he said, a mix of annoyance and gratitude colouring his tone. Although Mark hadn’t taken until dark, he still had been out a while, leaving Haechan stressed and nervous for some time.

Mark chuckled softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “I’m fine, Haechan. Just like I promised.”

As Mark started to unpack the supplies, Haechan felt a rush of gratitude and warmth.

Chapter Text

Mark dropped the heavy bag onto the floor, the sound echoing in the apartment. He began unpacking the supplies, methodically sorting through the items. Canned goods, bottled water, and a few bags of chips—everything he needed for the coming weeks. As he pulled out a small, brightly colored bag, his expression softened slightly.

“Hey, I found these for you,” he said, tossing the bag of candies towards Haechan, who was propped up on the couch, still nursing his injury.

Haechan caught the bag, a grin spreading across his face. “Thanks, Mark! I thought you forgot about me out there.” He noticed Mark's detached demeanor, the way he focused on the supplies rather than on their conversation. In reality, Mark was pretty pleased with himself. He managed to do something nice by getting candies for Haechan. He also managed to make the younger one smile.

Mark shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “It was just a quick trip.” His tone was curt, but Haechan could sense the effort beneath it, like a thin veil over something more complicated.

“You didn’t run into any trouble?” Haechan asked, trying to draw him out. “I wish I could’ve gone with you.”

“Yeah, it was fine. Just had to keep my head down,” Mark replied, his voice flat. He seemed to retreat into himself, organizing the food as if it were a puzzle that needed to be perfectly arranged.

“Mark,” Haechan said, softer this time. “Thank you for going out there. I truly appreciate it.”

Mark paused, glancing at Haechan for a brief moment before returning to his task. “No problem, Haechan.”

Haechan smiled, pleased that Mark was at least acknowledging his ‘thanks’. He unwrapped one of the candies, popping it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. Something he had not had in quite a long time. “Well, I’m glad you’re back, at least. I’ll save you some of these if you ever want to join me.”

Mark chuckled lightly, a fleeting moment of warmth, but it was gone just as quickly. “I’ll think about it,” he said, though Haechan sensed the gentleness of his tone. But, Haechan didn’t think Mark would take up the offer.

Haechan settled more comfortably on the couch, the tenderness of waiting for Mark now gone, the candy bag crinkling as he rummaged through it. He pulled out a bright red candy, holding it up to the light. “Look at this! It’s like a little burst of happiness,” he said, grinning at Mark.

Mark glanced over his shoulder, a hint of curiosity breaking through his stoic facade. “You really like those, huh?”

“They remind me of old times,” Haechan replied, popping the candy into his mouth and savouring the sweet, fruity flavour. He let out a small laugh. “It’s like a tiny escape from everything out there.”

Mark paused for a moment, finally turning to face Haechan fully. “You’re really going to eat those in front of me?”

“Why not? It’s a treat! You should join me.” Haechan held the bag out, shaking it towards Mark.

Mark shook his head, crossing his arms. “I’m fine.”

“Come on! Just one,” Haechan urged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You went through all that trouble to get them. It’d be a shame not to enjoy them together.”

Mark sighed, a reluctant look on his face. “Alright, just one.” He walked over, reaching into the bag and pulling out a green one, eyeing it like it might bite back.

“Trust me, they won’t bite,” Haechan teased, popping another candy into his mouth. He chewed, the sweet flavor bursting on his tongue, and watched as Mark slowly unwrapped his candy, the paper crinkling in the quiet room.

Mark finally put the candy into his mouth, and for a moment, he just stood there, processing the taste. “Okay, this isn’t terrible,” he admitted, his lips quirking up into a slight smile.

“See? Told you!” Haechan beamed, clearly pleased. “It’s the little things, Mark. Even in the middle of all this chaos, we can still enjoy something simple, right?”

Mark nodded, the walls he kept around himself feeling a bit lower. “I guess you’re right,” he said, the warmth of their shared moment softening the tension in the air.

Haechan leaned back, savoring the candy and the fleeting sense of normalcy. What he didn’t expect was Mark to sit next to him and reach his hand for another candy.

Haechan had no objections as he held the bag out to Mark, a small smile forming on his lips. “They’re good, right?”

“Yeah.”

Mark grabbed a different coloured one this time and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the taste.

It felt weird to see Mark eating candy, but Haechan wasn’t complaining. It was cute how his eyes lit up at the flavoured sweets.

“How’s your wound healing?” Mark asked with a more serious mood.

“It’s good, it doesn’t hurt much at all. I think I’ll be able to walk soon.” Haechan replied truthfully and Mark nodded in response.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go outside and put too much physical strain on his body too soon, but he’d be able to walk around the apartment soon. He was starting to get sick of the couch. He also had no idea what the rest of the apartment looked like, other than the bathroom that Mark had taken him to before.

Soon, the two of them ate about half of the candies and they decided to save the rest. They didn’t want to eat all of them in one sitting.

With that, Mark stood up, aiming to head to his room.

“What do you do in there all day?” Haechan asked.

“I’m trying to get some sort of connection.” Mark replied, not looking back. “To maybe get information from the government or find survivors.”

“Any luck?” Haechan questioned.

“Not yet. I’ve been trying since the start of all this, but technology isn’t really my strong suit.”

Haechan paused for a moment, not saying anything, causing Mark to look back. He saw Haechan with a small smirk on his face.

“Lucky for you… tech is my specialty!”

Mark raised an eyebrow, ready to listen to Haechan’s explanation.

“Did you ever wonder how I knew so much about the government plans and stuff like that… well it’s because I tuned in to their radios.” Haechan elaborated.

Mark looked a little shocked, saying, “and why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“I don’t know.” Haechan said blankly. “If you told me what you were doing I could have helped.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Haechan’s words. “You don’t know? Or you just didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” His cold demeanor was slowly coming back.

Haechan winced a little, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “I just… didn’t think it’d come up, alright? I figured you had enough on your plate without me poking around more than I have been.”

Mark let out a sigh, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Haechan, we’re in this together, isn’t that what you said? I thought that was the whole point. That’s important information.”

Haechan shrugged, the usual spark of mischief in his eyes dimmed by a flicker of regret. “Yeah, well, I guess I messed up on that part, but so did you.”

Mark pushed off the wall and headed toward his room. “Come on. Let’s go see this tech setup. If you’re as good as you say you are, maybe we can actually use it to get ahead of the game.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of excitement replacing his earlier guilt. “You mean it?”

Mark gave him a half-smile. “Only if you promise not to leave out important stuff like this again. Deal?”

“Deal.” Haechan grinned, attempting to push himself up from the couch, but a sharp pain shot through his side, making him stumble slightly.

“Whoa—take it easy,” Mark said, rushing over and sliding an arm under Haechan’s to support him. “You’re not going anywhere alone until you heal up, okay?”

Haechan shot him an annoyed look, but there was a hint of gratitude behind it. “Fine. But you’re here so you can help me.”

Mark chuckled, helping Haechan stand up properly. They headed down the hallway together, Haechan leaning on Mark for support, who had his hand tightly wrapped around his waist.

As they entered Mark’s room, Haechan’s face lit up. It was his first time seeing the room and it was very nice. It was modern looking but also had a more cozy vibe to it than the rest of the apartment.

Mark glanced back at Haechan, who was still looking around his room. The sight of a bed made Haechan smile. He missed his own bed.

Mark walked forward with Haechan and lifted him up to softly place him onto the bed.

As Haechan was sitting on the bed, his legs slightly spread out and Mark standing in between them with his hands sliding from his waist to his thighs and knees, Haechan couldn’t help blushing. They were in a bit of an intimate position.

Mark didn’t move though, his hands remaining on Haechan’s knees. He looked over to his tech setup, wires tangled in a controlled chaos. It was all the work he’d been attempting to do for months.

Haechan decided to ignore their position and looked over too. After a quick observation, he noticed what Mark was doing wrong and how to fix it. He would easily be able to connect to some kind of radio source and get new information.

“I can fix it.” Haechan stated, making Mark glance over at him. He looked down at Haechan who was sitting with pink cheeks, cutely looking up at him.

Mark suppressed a smile, “Can you?”

“Are you doubting me?” Haechan asked with a playful pout.

“No.” Mark said quickly. He was a bit surprised that Haechan was a specialist in technology. For some reason he expected him to be a singer or something, but working with tech definitely seemed more useful in their situation.

He then went and retrieved the tech from the ground and brought it to Haechan who immediately got to work.

“How long do you think it’ll take you?” He questioned.

“It shouldn’t take that long.” Haechan said with a thoughtful look. “Maybe 20 minutes.”

“20 minutes?” Mark asked, a bit surprised. That was such a short amount of time. He’d been working on it for months.

“Yeah, you have these walkie talkies here that I can do.” He continued, “those could take 5-10 minutes each.”

It was great that Mark happened to have walkie talkies. Not only would they be able to possibly connect to the outside world, but they could also easily contact each other if needed. Like on missions or in emergencies. There was one for each of them.

“Why do you even have these?” Haechan asked as he got to work with the materials Mark grabbed for him, finally disconnecting from Haechan.

“I found them on my first time out. I grabbed them since they could be useful.”

Made sense.

About 20 minutes exactly passed and Haechan was finished with the radios. “All done.” He said with a smile.

He threw one towards Mark who was watching with interest as Haechan fixed the devices. He caught it in one hand, showing his great reflexes as he was not prepared for the catch.

“Already?”

“I said 20 minutes, didn’t I?” Haechan said. Mark nodded and looked over the device. “Let’s test them.”

In an instant Haechan turned on his and instructed Mark to do the same. Then Haechan told Mark to go to another room so they could test them better.

Mark stepped out to the kitchen and waited.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly came from the device. It worked. More seconds passed before Haechan spoke into it again. “Hello? You’re meant to answer you know, so I know it works.”

Right. Mark quickly spoke back, saying, “yeah, it works.”

“Great!” Haechan said excitedly. Mark was surprised for some reason. It just felt so quick compared to his months of attempts.

He walked back to his bedroom and sent Haechan a smile. “Can we connect these to other’s?”

“I can try tuning into government lines and stuff.” Haechan said.

Mark nodded as he sat down next to him.

“But, it can take hours or even days to find one. I don’t know if they’ll have regular operating schedules or if they’ll operate at all times.” He added. “I’ll need to shuffle and listen to every channel in order to find them.”

“Okay, that’s a start at least.” Mark said. “Thanks to you, we could be out of here soon.”

“Yes.” Haechan smiled shyly. Mark praising him felt good as it’s something he never did.

They shared a look with smiles plastered on their faces. They were making progress.

—

A few days passed, and once a day Mark had changed Haechan’s bandages. They had all their meals at the same time, and Mark even resorted to letting Haechan have the bed.

Apparently he saw how Haechan’s eyes lit up when seeing it and chose to let Haechan use it.

Initially Haechan refused. He tried to change Mark’s mind but in the end Mark just went to sleep on the couch. Haechan couldn’t really move that well so he was sort of forced to sleep on the bed. Not that he was complaining.

Although he tried to refuse, he was happy about sleeping in a comfortable and soft bed. Not only was it comfortable, but it smelled like Mark. He couldn’t help stuffing his face into the blanket and taking in the scent. He easily fell asleep for the next few days he kept on the bed.

After about a week, his cut no longer needed bandages to cover it as it was almost fully healed on the outside. It didn’t hurt that much at all and he could finally move around again.

He found a government channel around two days after he began looking and shared the information with Mark.

The channel seemed to be private, so they couldn’t communicate through it to the government, but they got information on the location of bases and found the one closest to them was in operation. That was their goal, to make it there.

Their food and water supply was holding up strong, but they both knew that by the end of the next week, they’d have to go out and find more. They also decided that Mark would go alone once more, then the next time Haechan would go with him.

Again, Haechan wanted to go, but Mark insisted that he took a little more time to rest. Mark was basically pleading with Haechan which eventually convinced him.

If Mark managed to find as much as last time, they’d be set for another two weeks.

When their food finally ran out, Mark went out again. Haechan was nervous again but also confident that Mark would return safely like last time.

Mark was gone for around three hours that time, and he did run into a zombie. Luckily only one, but that was still awfully dangerous.

He used his gun to shoot it down and managed to get away without making any close contact with it. The best scenario for encountering a zombie. He got a bunch of supplies again, but it left that store empty.

Then, their food ran out again. This time, Haechan and Mark would go out together.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Mark asked Haechan as he grabbed his backpack for their venture outside of the apartment. It would be their first time going out together and he was a bit worried if Haechan was prepared enough.

“I’m ready.” Haechan said, sounding fully sure of himself. He was tired of sitting in the apartment doing nothing while Mark went and risked his life. He also felt fully healed. His wound didn’t hurt at all and he had his full mobility back after around a full month. A full month he had spent inside the same apartment with Mark.

After this supply run, they were planning on leaving the apartment and heading towards the nearest government protected base. The nearest being another city over. It would be a long journey, and that’s why they needed to get as many supplies as possible.

This would actually be the last time they saw the apartment since they were planning to leave right after finding supplies. They brought everything else they needed with them. Their walkie talkies and any personal belongings they wanted to bring along.

Mark looked skeptically at him, but seeing the look of determination on Haechan’s face, he was convinced.

“Okay, let’s go. Just remember, stay close and keep your guard up.” Mark said.

They walked down the long stairs and after taking a deep breath, stepped outside. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or distant groans of the undead. Mark led the way, scanning their surroundings, while Haechan kept pace beside him, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Mark couldn’t help glancing back every couple minutes just to make sure Haechan was still there. He was staying so quiet, Mark couldn’t even hear him.

After a tense few blocks filled with dodging abandoned cars and the occasional shuffling figure, they arrived at a small convenience store. This one was different from the one Mark had gone to before.

Mark pried open the door, its creak breaking the stillness. “Let’s grab what we can and get out fast,” he whispered.

Inside, the shelves were in perfect condition apart from whatever rotting food was left. No one else had entered this store yet, making it stocked. This was just what they needed. Food and water was everywhere for them to grab.

Haechan grabbed a bigger backpack than what he brought from a nearby rack, stuffing it with as much as he could carry. He swapped his items from his previous bag before leaving it behind on the floor. The new one was much bigger and better for what they were going through.

“Look, I found some first aid kits!” he called, excitement brightening his face, but he still made sure to keep his voice low.

“Good, grab those!” Mark responded, scanning the entrance anxiously. They were both paranoid, slowly moving from aisle to aisle to take whatever they could.

The two of them decided to split up in the store and quickly gathered up everything they needed. Their bags were stuffed full of supplies and there was nothing more they could bring with them.

At the same time, they headed towards the front of the store. Haechan arrived first and watched out the window as he noticed a zombie walking by. Its rotting flesh and dark eyes bringing a sour look to his face.

A moment later, Mark squatted next to him to avoid being noticed by the zombie, even though it couldn’t see too well. They didn’t say anything until the zombie was completely out of sight and far away.

“You have everything?” Mark asked. They were both assigned to gather different things.

“Yup.” Haechan replied.

After a brief conversation, they found they were ready to leave. Haechan tightened his backpack before standing up, Mark following suit.

They headed out the front door and looked around for any signs of movement. Mark had grabbed a small compass when on one of his outings and they used it to direct them in the proper direction.

“This way.” He whispered as they headed North.

It was hard for Haechan to believe this was real. They were leaving for good, heading to the protected base. They were going to endure a lot on the journey and it’d take a while, but they were doing it.

They walked through the abandoned city, seeing everything left behind. Some time had passed and they had not run into anything. According to Haechan’s estimate, they’d been walking about an hour and a half from the store.

That’s when they heard voices. Mark noticed it first and quickly grabbed Haechan and pulled them into an alley away from the main street. Their bodies were closely pushed against each other but neither of them really noticed as they looked out into the street to see what was going on.

Haechan was initially confused and a bit startled when Mark grabbed him but he quickly heard the chatter too.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the street. Haechan’s heart raced as he glanced toward the source, eyes widening. A group of ragged survivors appeared, their expressions dark and hungry.

They looked very grimy, dust and dirt piling up on their clothes and skin. Cuts and blood were also evident on their flesh. There were around five of them. They looked as though they’d been through a lot.

Mark’s grip tightened on Haechan’s arm as they peered around the corner, watching the group of survivors pass by. “Stay quiet,” he murmured, his instincts on high alert.

The five figures moved with a frantic energy, their clothes tattered and smeared with dirt. One of them, a woman with wild hair and a desperate expression, shouted, “We need food! We can’t keep going like this!”

“Just keep looking,” a burly man replied, his voice rough. “There has to be something. We can’t starve!”

Mark felt a surge of tension. They were clearly struggling, but their intentions were all too obvious. If they spotted Haechan and him, they’d see them as easy prey.

“Survivors,” Haechan whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Yeah, and they’re not friendly,” Mark replied, eyes narrowing as he assessed their movements. He pulled Haechan back deeper into the shadows of the alley. “We need to move before they see us.”

But Haechan hesitated, empathy flashing in his eyes. “What if they really need help? We could—”

“Help them?” Mark interrupted, shaking his head sharply. “They’re not looking for help; they’re looking for something to take. Trust me, Haechan. We can’t risk it.”

Just then, one of the survivors turned, his eyes locking onto their hiding spot. “Hey!” he yelled, pointing. “Over here!”

“Run!” Mark shouted, yanking Haechan deeper into the alley as the sound of footsteps grew closer.

They reached a dead end, and Mark quickly shoved Haechan behind a stack of crates. “Stay here,” he instructed, adrenaline spiking. He peeked around the crates, his heart pounding as the survivors entered the alley, their expressions wild with desperation.

“Where are they?” the woman shouted, scanning the area. “They can’t have gone far!”

Mark felt his protective instincts kick in. “We can’t let them take what we have,” he muttered, tightening his grip on the baseball bat he had found earlier to use when he didn’t want to use his gun.

As the group closed in, Mark stepped out from behind the crates, positioning himself like a wall between Haechan and the threat. “Back off!” he warned, his voice steady and commanding.

The woman hesitated, eyes narrowing. “Just hand it over, and we won’t have to hurt you!” she yelled, desperation fueling her words.

“We won’t be giving you anything,” Mark replied, a fierce determination burning in his eyes. “We need these supplies to survive.”

In a flash, the burly man lunged at Mark, swinging a fist. Mark dodged with practiced ease, sidestepping and delivering a powerful counter-punch that sent the man staggering back.

Surprise and admiration appeared on Haechan's face. He didn’t know Mark was such a good fighter..

“Stay back!” Mark called, feeling a rush of adrenaline. He could see the others hesitating, calculating their chances against him. “If you want to fight, then you’ll have to get through me first,” he declared, confidence radiating from him. He wasn’t going to pull out his gun and kill them, that’d be a waste of bullets. But he would knock them down to get away.

Just then, the woman charged, swinging her pipe recklessly. Mark met her head-on, expertly deflecting her blow and countering with a swift kick that knocked her off balance.

“Mark, look out!” Haechan shouted, grabbing a rusty metal rod from the ground.

Without hesitation, Mark pivoted and caught the next survivor who had tried to sneak up on him, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall. The survivor crumpled, momentarily stunned.

Haechan joined the fray, swinging the metal rod with all his strength. It connected with another attacker, sending him crashing to the ground. He was surprised with his own actions and strength. He seemed to have knocked the young man out.

As the chaos unfolded, Mark fought like a whirlwind, dodging blows and striking with precision. He moved fluidly, every motion calculated and effective, demonstrating a mastery of combat that left Haechan in awe. He didn’t even need to use his bat.

“Keep moving!” Mark shouted, his voice commanding as he took down another survivor with a swift kick to the knee, sending him sprawling. Together, they pushed back against the desperate group, Mark leading the charge with unyielding strength and fierce determination.

The alley erupted with shouts and the sounds of struggle, but Mark and Haechan held their ground. They fought not just for their supplies but for their survival. In that moment, as they faced the threat side by side, Haechan realized that Mark was not just a fighter—he was a force of nature.

As the last of the survivors were knocked out by swift movement’s, Mark turned to Haechan, breathing heavily but grinning. “See? We can take care of ourselves.”

Haechan couldn’t help but smile back, relief flooding through him. “That was incredible! You really are a badass, Mark.”

Mark shrugged, a casual grin on his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Nah, just doing what needs to be done. It’s all part of the game, you know?”

His nonchalance was infectious, easing the tension that had built up in Haechan. “Yeah, you’re right,” he replied, feeling more at ease. He was glad Mark was on his side.

Together, they took a moment to catch their breath, knowing that their journey was far from over.

As they stepped out of the alley, Mark glanced back briefly, assessing their surroundings. The weight of their supplies felt reassuring against his back, a reminder that they had fought hard to keep what was theirs. But they couldn’t linger; the commotion from the alley had surely drawn the attention of the undead.

“Let’s move,” Mark urged, his voice steady as he began walking in the right direction, leading the way down the street.

Haechan followed closely, his mind racing. But just as they made some distance, a piercing scream echoed from the alley. The sound sent chills down Haechan’s spine. “That’s one of them!” he exclaimed, looking back instinctively.

Mark’s expression hardened. “We can’t help them. We need to focus on getting out of here.”

But Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. Those survivors had been desperate, just like them. Now, one of them was suffering—likely attracting more zombies with every cry. He felt a complicated swirl of emotions—anger, sadness, and a deep sense of helplessness.

“Look,” Mark said, his hand stretching out to gently redirect Haechan’s gaze ahead. “We still have a long way to go. We can’t afford to get caught up in this.”

Haechan forced himself to focus, forcing his thoughts back to their mission. He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of what was happening behind them. “You’re right,” he admitted reluctantly. “We need to keep moving.”

They picked up their pace, the sounds of the alley fading into the distance as the first zombies stumbled into view, drawn by the survivor’s screams. Haechan stole one last glance over his shoulder, watching the figures lurch toward the commotion. His heart ached, but he knew they had to prioritize their own survival.

As they continued down the street, the atmosphere shifted. The air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves or distant groan heightening their senses. Mark led the way confidently, his experience evident in how he navigated the landscape, scanning for threats as they moved.

“Stay close,” Mark instructed, his voice low but firm. “If anything happens, follow my lead.”

“Got it,” Haechan replied, feeling a mix of fear and admiration. He trusted Mark completely, knowing that his friend was willing to protect him at all costs. At least he hoped so. What just happened was a pretty good show of his protection though, so Haechan wasn’t too worried.

They turned a corner and found themselves in a partially collapsed neighborhood, debris littering the streets and abandoned cars strewn haphazardly. The silence felt oppressive, but it also meant fewer zombies—at least for now.

As they carefully navigated through the wreckage, Haechan couldn’t help but wonder how many others were out there, facing the same horrors they were. Would they end up like the survivors from the alley, desperate and cornered?

“Focus, Haechan,” Mark said suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. “We need to stay alert.”

“Right,” Haechan said, shaking off his thoughts. He refocused on the task at hand, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of danger.

Suddenly, a low growl interrupted the silence. Both of them froze, hearts pounding as they turned to face the sound. A lone zombie staggered into view, its clothes torn and skin mottled. It stumbled toward them, drawn by their presence.

Mark moved swiftly, stepping in front of Haechan. “Stay back,” he commanded, raising the baseball bat he had been carrying. With a practiced swing, he struck the zombie in the head, the force of the blow sending its head crashing to the ground, its rotten flesh not doing anything to keep the body together.

Haechan watched, a mix of awe and anxiety coursing through him, adrenaline surging.

Mark shot him a quick glance, his expression serious. “We can’t celebrate yet. More could be coming.”

As they pressed on, Haechan felt a renewed sense of determination. They were facing the unknown together, and with Mark at his side, he felt emboldened. The road ahead might be dangerous, but they were ready to tackle whatever challenges lay in their path.

“Let’s keep moving,” Mark said, and Haechan nodded.

Chapter Text

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the streets as Haechan and Mark entered a residential building. They moved cautiously, every creak of the old floorboards echoing in the silence. The air was thick with the scent of dust and decay, but Haechan felt a strange comfort in the presence of his friend. He started referring to him that way in his mind.

“Let’s check upstairs,” Mark said, his voice low and steady. Haechan nodded, trying to shake off the lingering tension from their narrow escape. They climbed the stairs, the faint sound of their footsteps reverberating in the empty space.

They planned to rest here for a little while before continuing their journey.

As they reached the second floor, Mark pushed open a door that led to a small apartment. It was mostly untouched, with furniture covered in sheets and a layer of dust that hinted at its abandonment. Haechan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room.

“It’s not much, but it’ll do,” Mark said, his tone matter-of-fact. Haechan could sense the underlying strain in Mark's demeanor; the apocalypse had worn him down, and he kept his emotions tightly locked away.

“Let’s set up a lookout,” Haechan suggested, trying to lighten the mood. He walked over to a window and pulled aside the tattered curtain, peering out at the desolate streets. “It’s quiet. Too quiet.”

Mark joined him, standing close enough that Haechan could feel his warmth radiating from him and his breath on his neck. “Yeah. We can’t let our guard down,” he replied. Shivers went down Haechan’s body.

As darkness fell, Haechan felt the weight of their situation pressing down on him, but he also felt an unexpected sense of peace being near Mark. He glanced over, catching Mark staring out the window, his jaw tense. It made sense that one of them would be a lookout while the other would sleep, then they’d switch half way through the night.

“Hey,” Haechan said softly, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”

Mark turned to him, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. “Just… thinking,” he murmured, his eyes searching Haechan’s.

Without thinking, Haechan moved a little closer, their knees nearly touching. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to push Mark to explain.

Mark looked down, his expression shifting to a more gentle gaze. His eyes traced Haechan’s features and lingered on his lips for a moment longer than the rest of his face. Haechan noticed this and felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

In the stillness, Haechan felt an undeniable pull toward Mark. The moonlight was shining through the window and leaving a pretty glow on his face.

Mark glanced at him, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through Haechan. The way Mark was looking at him gave him butterflies. It wasn’t his usual cold or distant glance, but he seemed fully focused on Haechan and only him. There was a softness to his gaze.

“Let’s sleep.” Mark said suddenly, breaking the silence.

It wasn’t what Haechan was expecting or hoping for Mark to say but he did see the tiredness in Mark’s eyes that he had missed before. “You sleep first, I’ll keep watch.” Haechan replied as he took a seat on the window sill.

“No.” Mark said. “Let’s both sleep now.”

“One of us has to keep a lookout in case the zombies come.” Haechan said logically. He thought Mark was the one always paranoid and making sure nothing would happen.

“We need sleep. We can’t be tired and slow when out in actual zombie territory. They can’t even get into the building, let alone without us hearing them first.” Mark stated factually. Mark also just wanted to be closer to Haechan, but he didn't know why.

Haechan looked around the room, spotting only one bed. “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor I guess.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“Neither are you.” Haechan responded.

“Then we’ll sleep on the bed.” Mark said as he walked over to it, lifting up the sheet covering the bed off. The blanket beneath it was fully dust free and even clean looking.

“Are you sure?” Haechan asked as he walked over. Since they entered the building he felt that Mark was a bit less talkative and now he was okay sleeping tightly with Haechan? Back at Mark's apartment, Mark had never slept in the same bed as Haechan, always opting for the couch. If Haechan ever got to the couch first, Mark would either resort to the bed or wait until Haechan fell asleep and carried him to the bed. That was sweet of him.

Back then, Haechan told Mark that they could both use the bed. Mark's bed was pretty big and could easily fit the two of them while leaving a lot of space. However, Mark refused that time. Maybe it was because they weren't as close as they were now, even though they still weren't too close. But at least they sort of trusted each other now.

“Why? Do you not want to sleep with me?” Mark questioned, a small smirk on his face that was hidden from Haechan.

“What, no?! I do want to sleep with you… I mean … I want to sleep on the bed.” He paused. “Do you feel comfortable with us sleeping together?”

“I don’t mind sleeping with you.” Mark said with a straight expression. “Sleep is the important thing right now or else we won’t be able to fight at our full capacity.”

“What if I snore, or sleep talk?” Haechan asked.

“You don’t.” Mark stated. Haechan raised an eyebrow in response. “I know because we’ve lived together for a month now.” Mark said matter of factly.

Haechan felt a bit stupid for forgetting that. He remembers that on the first night he fell asleep at Mark’s place, he woke up with a blanket covering him. Mark had obviously done it and seen him sleeping then. If he also carried Haechan a couple times, he definitely would know whether or not he snored or not.

"Trust me, you make no noise at all. I couldn't even hear you walking behind me earlier in the city." Mark said.

Haechan nodded slowly, he couldn't really think of any other excuses or ways to postpone the inevitable.

“If anything, it seems you don’t want to sleep with me.” Mark said as he got into the bed comfortably, leaving his shoes to the side.

“I do.” Haechan said a bit too quickly.

“Then why are you stalling?” Mark asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Haechan glanced at the bed. He couldn’t lie, he would love to sleep on the same bed as Mark, together. But, this bed in particular was a bit small. It was a twin bed, meaning they would need to be very close together unless he wanted to fall off the bed.

“Are you worried you’ll be cold?” said Mark. “My body will heat you up.”

Haechan hesitated, a blush so bright on his skin. Mark couldn’t see it though because of the darkness enveloping the room.

Haechan swallowed hard, trying to focus on Mark's words instead of the heat radiating from his own cheeks. "I’m not worried about being cold," he managed to say, though the way his heart raced suggested otherwise.

Mark chuckled softly, a sound that echoed warmly in the otherwise empty room. "Then what’s the hold-up?" He patted the space beside him, his invitation clear.

Taking a deep breath, Haechan stepped closer, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. After removing his shoes, he climbed onto the bed, careful to keep some space between them, but the narrowness of the twin bed quickly rendered that impossible.

"See? Not so bad," Mark said, adjusting the blanket to cover them both, brushing against Haechan's arm in the process. Haechan's skin tingled at the contact, and he tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened and his whole body shivered.

"You’re right," he said, forcing a casual tone.

Mark turned to him, propping himself up on one elbow. "Are you sure you’re okay with this? I mean, sleeping together like this?" His gaze was earnest, searching for any sign of discomfort in Haechan’s expression.

"Yeah," Haechan replied, a bit too quickly again. "I am. It’s just... different, you know? But nice."

"Good." Mark smiled, and the tension in the air seemed to lift slightly. "We need to be well-rested for tomorrow. We’ll face whatever’s out there together."

"Together," Haechan echoed, feeling a sense of solidarity wash over him. As they settled into a more comfortable position, Haechan shifted closer, Mark's breath now hitting the back of Haechan's neck. Haechan was facing the opposite direction of Mark while Mark was facing Haechan's direction.

The darkness wrapped around them, broken only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window. Haechan closed his eyes, trying to let go of the thoughts swirling in his mind. Yet, it was hard to ignore the warmth radiating from Mark beside him, or the steady rhythm of his breathing that lulled Haechan into a sense of security.

It was getting difficult to fall asleep though. His senses remained hyper aware, eyes still open and body tense. His heart was beating faster than it should be. Mark was just a guy he met in the apocalypse, a friend, nothing more. Why was he so affected by his breath on his neck then? Or the scent of the man next to him?

“Relax.” Mark said suddenly. “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Mark was feeling confused at Haechan’s behaviour. He seemed very tense and nervous at the moment. At this point, neither of them would get any rest.

“I know.” Haechan whispered. That was the problem. What if he wanted Mark to do more? To touch him, even if just slightly. Unconsciously he pushed himself deeper into the bed, towards the other man. "I would never think that, not that I'd mind... I mean I would never assume you'd do something like that." Haechan coughed out.

Mark felt more confused that Haechan was moving closer toward him now, he expected him to hide at the edge of the bed. But his words caught his attention, making a smirk appear on his face.

Since the bed was quite small, when Haechan moved back, his body quickly connected with Mark’s. “It’s cold.” He said as an excuse.

“I thought you weren’t worried about that.” Mark chuckled, eyes trailing over Haechan’s entire body before him.

“I changed my mind.”

“Sure.” Mark said, not sounding too convinced. But he didn’t add anything else. Instead of words, he placed an arm over Haechan’s hip and closed his eyes, pulling the younger even closer to him and pressing their bodies fully against one another. “Goodnight.” He said casually, as if Haechan wouldn't do anything he said at that moment.

Haechan held his breath for a moment before replying, “yeah… goodnight.” His blush was evident, and he swore Mark could probably see it creeping up on his ears. His breathing wasn't exactly steady and his heart wasn't either. He was a bit disappointed that Mark had decided to actually sleep, but was relieved at the same time.

He finally let himself relax when he focused on the steady rhythm of Mark's breathing as it lulled him into a sense of calm. The man before him seemed utterly unaffected and had no trouble falling asleep.

With each inhale and exhale, Haechan felt the tension of the day begin to fade, the sound creating a comforting backdrop that eased him into sleep, even if it took a while.

–

As the night wore on, a distant sound broke the stillness—a low groan that echoed through the darkened streets. Haechan stirred, instinctively tightening his grip on whatever he was holding.

"Did you hear that?" Haechan whispered, his heart racing again.

Mark's expression turned serious, and he nodded. "Yeah. Stay quiet."

Haechan held his breath, straining to listen but also starting to feel his surroundings.

The thing he was holding on to happened to be none other than Mark. Haechan was tightly holding the man’s arm and was cuddled into it. Haechan had to ignore this position though, the zombie noises were more important.

The sound came again, closer this time, accompanied by a shuffle that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He glanced at Mark, whose brow was furrowed in concentration.

"We need to check," Mark said, rising slowly from the bed. Haechan followed suit, adrenaline surging through him, their bodies separating.

Together, they crept to the window, their earlier intimacy forgotten as the reality of their situation settled back in. Haechan's heart raced not just from fear, but from the close proximity of Mark as they peered out into the street. It was a bit lighter out now, signifying the time they'd spent safely asleep.

"What do you see?" Haechan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the street. "I don’t know yet. Just stay back."

Haechan nodded, gripping the edge of Mark’s shirt. The shadows seemed to flicker, and for a moment, he thought he saw movement. "Mark…"

Then, the groan erupted again, louder, and the figures became visible in the dim light—a small group of zombies shuffling through the streets, their movements jerky and uncoordinated.

Mark’s expression hardened. "We have to be ready. If they come this way, we need to defend ourselves. Looks like we won't be leaving here right away."

Haechan felt a surge of fear, but also a fierce determination. "What do we do?"

Mark glanced back at the street, “We’ll just watch as they walk past. Don’t make a sound and we’ll be fine. They can’t get in the building anyway. Once we're sure they're gone, we can pack up and head out.”

Haechan nodded and moved closer to the window in order to see the zombies better.

"You go back to sleep." Mark said as he nodded towards the bed. "There's still some more time you can rest, I'll watch the zombies."

"But-"

"Just sleep, don't worry about it." Mark reassured as he patted Haechan head softly and took a seat on the window sill, solidifying his position.

Haechan blushed slightly at the action but quickly composed himself. He nodded softly before going back towards the bed, and plopped himself into the still warm sheets. He grabbed the blanket and tightly wrapped it around himself, hiding himself from the cold. The bed felt a little empty without Mark, but knowing Mark was right there put some ease to his mind.

Surprisingly, he actually fell asleep quite quickly, his tiredness getting the best of him.

From the window sill, Mark looked back after hearing the rustling and moving around in the bed stop. Curled up in the blanket, he saw Haechan pouting slightly in his sleep, looking very cozy and soft.

"Cute." Mark whispered quietly, barely even registering what he thought and said.

Chapter Text

Haechan woke up to the bright sunlight hitting his face. He slowly opened his eyes fully and stretched his body out.

Mark was still sitting at the window sill but the sounds of zombies were gone.

Haechan sat up in the bed and called out, “Mark.”

“Hmm?” Mark answered.

“Are they all gone?”

“Yeah, they’re gone.” Mark replied.

Haechan let out a quiet sigh of relief and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at Mark, who still hadn't moved from his spot at the window, staring out at the empty street below.

"You sure?" Haechan asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Mark nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sun was just beginning to rise higher, casting a soft orange glow over the world. "Yeah. I haven’t seen or heard any in a while. The city’s quiet now."

Haechan pushed the blankets off himself and stood up, stretching again, his limbs sore from sleeping in an awkward position. He shuffled over to the window beside Mark and looked out. The streets were eerily deserted, no signs of life.

A few abandoned cars sat along the side of the road, windows shattered, but no movement.

Haechan frowned as he gazed out the window. "It’s like a ghost town," he murmured, the stillness pressing against him like a heavy weight.

Mark didn't answer right away. He just continued to stare at the empty streets below, the rising sun casting long shadows on the abandoned buildings. His eyes were tired, but there was a certain sharpness to them—maybe the kind of sharpness you get when you're always watching your back.

After a beat, he sighed. "Doesn’t feel real," he said quietly. "One minute, we were dodging zombies, and now... nothing. Like they just vanished."

Haechan turned away from the window, pacing toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the room. The empty shelves stared back at him. "Vanishing or not," he said, voice a little more urgent now, "we still need to eat. And we need to get out of here. The sooner, the better."

Mark finally tore his gaze away from the street and glanced over. "You're right. We can’t just sit here forever." His eyes flicked over to the door, then back to the window. "I don’t know if the zombies are still out there, or if this is just some kind of... calm before the storm."

Haechan grabbed a can from his bag, a can of something he couldn’t quite identify, but it didn’t matter. "Either way, we can't wait too long. We're not getting any younger, and we can’t afford to starve. We've got to head to the next city, to the military base. Pretty sure it’s the only place left with a real chance of holding off the infection."

Mark didn’t respond at first, as if weighing the decision in his mind. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. "You think it’s safe to go now, though? What if—"

"What if we wait and end up trapped here with no food? Or worse?" Haechan cut him off, his frustration creeping through. "The longer we stay, the harder it’ll be to get out. We’re just wasting time."

Mark hesitated, then slowly stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright. We leave after breakfast. It’s better to leave when zombies aren’t directly in our way.”

"Yeah." Haechan felt the weight of it settle into him again, the reality of what they were about to do. Going back out into zombie territory.

The two of them worked in relative silence, quickly rummaging through their limited supplies. They’d already scavenged what they could from the building over the past few days, but they had to make the most of it. They ate whatever they could, mostly canned food and a little dried fruit, not much to satisfy a full stomach, but enough to keep them going and keep their supply as full as possible.

Afterward, Haechan found a small hunting knife, and a rusty metal bar. He’d use those to protect himself, while Mark had his gun and bat.

"We’ll make it to the base," Haechan said, his voice steady, though the words felt more like a promise to himself than anything. "We’ve made it this far. We just need to keep moving."

Mark adjusted his pack on his shoulders, then gave Haechan a look, his eyes sharp but reassuring. "Yeah. We’ll keep moving. But we need to be smart about it. Stick to the plan—head straight to the next city, no detours. Stay low. No unnecessary risks."

Haechan nodded, picking up the last of their supplies. He felt the weight of everything settle in—his pack, the weapons, the pressure of the journey ahead. "Agreed."

As they headed toward the door, Mark paused and glanced back out the window one last time. The streets were still empty, and the silence lingered, almost oppressive.

"Ready?" Haechan asked, turning to Mark.

Mark gave him a grim smile. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

With one final glance around the room, they pushed the door open and stepped out into the uncertainty of what lay ahead, the only certainty being that the journey to the military base was the only hope they had left.

The door creaked as it opened, the air outside thick with the smell of dust and decay. The silence of the city was almost too much to bear, like everything had been frozen in time. Haechan felt a sudden chill despite the warmth of the sun. He glanced at Mark, who was already moving, his footsteps careful but purposeful.

Haechan followed, trying to shake off the unease gnawing at him. They hadn’t spoken about the possibility of running into more survivors, or what might still be lurking beyond the quiet streets. The world outside was a wasteland, but it was theirs to navigate now.

The building they’d been holed up in was on the edge of the city, a few blocks from the main road that led to the highway. They'd need to stick to the less populated streets—avoid drawing attention if anything was still out there. Zombies weren’t the only threat anymore; desperation and fear made people unpredictable.

"We head straight to the highway," Mark said, as if reading Haechan’s thoughts. "From there, we’ll keep moving until we hit the next town. Shouldn’t take more than a two to three days if we don’t stop too much."

Haechan nodded, checking the small map they’d managed to scavenge a while back. The nearest military base was about eighty kilometers away, give or take, depending on the condition of the roads. They’d need to avoid any large groups of infected or scavengers who might be more dangerous than the zombies themselves.

The street was empty—too empty—and that only added to the tension. Haechan kept his eyes scanning every corner, every alley, waiting for something, anything, to move. The broken windows of nearby buildings stared back at him like empty eyes, hollow and vacant.

They moved quickly, but cautiously, not daring to make a sound louder than the scrape of their boots on the cracked pavement. Haechan’s hand gripped the knife a little too tight, and he could hear Mark’s breath steady and controlled, his eyes constantly flicking between the streets ahead and behind them.

They passed a few wrecked cars along the way, abandoned in the middle of intersections like forgotten toys. There were no signs of life, no bodies to indicate what had happened. Just the empty shells of a city that had once been bustling with people. The thought of how quickly everything had fallen apart still shocked Haechan to his core.

It wasn’t long before they reached the main road. The highway stretched out before them like a barren, desolate path. A few cars were still scattered along, some turned sideways, others abandoned in a hurry. But it was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Mark stopped at the edge of the road, scanning the area. "This is where it gets tricky," he said, his voice low. "We need to keep moving, but we can’t rush. No telling what’s up ahead. It’s pretty open and there’s not many ways to hide."

Haechan nodded, glancing both ways before stepping into the road. They kept their pace steady but not fast, walking side by side, watching every movement, every shadow. The highway, once a symbol of escape and freedom, now felt like a trap.

As they moved farther, Haechan felt the weight of the journey sink in. The military base wasn’t just a destination—it was their lifeline, their only hope for survival. It felt so far away, and yet every step brought them closer.

But as much as they tried to keep their minds focused on the goal, the uncertainty of the world around them tugged at them both. Every rustling of leaves, every distant creak of a building settling, made their hearts skip a beat.

At the next intersection, Mark stopped and held up a hand. "Wait," he said, his voice tight with tension. "Do you hear that?"

Haechan froze, listening. For a long moment, there was nothing but the wind.

Then, faintly, he heard it: the sound of shuffling footsteps.

"Shit," Haechan whispered. "Are they...?"

Mark didn’t answer. Instead, he crouched low, pulling Haechan with him into the shadow of a car. They pressed themselves flat against the scratched vehicle, hearts racing.

The footsteps grew louder, closer.

Haechan’s mind raced. Were they zombies? Survivors? Whoever they were, it wasn’t safe to be seen. The last thing they needed was a confrontation now.

Mark slowly reached for his bat, his eyes never leaving the street. Haechan’s grip tightened on the hunting knife, ready to act if necessary.

As the footsteps drew nearer, a figure came into view—a lone person, stumbling, their movements jerky and uncoordinated. It was a man, ragged and disheveled, his clothes torn and covered in dirt. His face was gaunt, eyes wide with a kind of crazed desperation. Not a zombie.

He didn’t seem to notice them, his attention fixated on something in the distance, or maybe on nothing at all.

Haechan held his breath, waiting for the man to pass. If he did, they could keep moving—keep their distance.

But then, the man stopped. His head jerked toward them, his eyes locking onto Haechan’s hiding spot with unnerving precision.

"Who’s there?" The man’s voice cracked, rough like he hadn’t spoken in days. "I know you’re there. I’m not alone, you know."

Haechan’s heart raced. This wasn’t going to end quietly.

Haechan’s fingers tightened around the handle of the hunting knife, his pulse quickening. Mark’s hand subtly shifted toward the crowbar, ready to act at the first sign of danger. The man’s voice was ragged, edged with desperation, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition or perhaps a plea for help. It was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made Haechan hesitate.

The man took a step forward, his movements stiff and slow. He was thin, his face haggard, and his clothes were little more than tatters. It was clear he hadn’t had a proper meal or rest in days.

“You… you guys aren’t zombies, are you?” he croaked, his voice trembling. “You’re not like them, right? Please, tell me you’re not like them.”

Haechan and Mark exchanged a quick look. The man didn’t look dangerous, not in the traditional sense, but there was no way to know for sure. The world had twisted people in strange ways.

“We’re not,” Mark said cautiously, his voice steady but low. “We’re just trying to get out of here, same as you.”

The man’s eyes flicked from Mark to Haechan, and his expression softened slightly, as if hearing those words gave him a sense of relief. “You’re going to the base, right? The military base? They said they’d be safe, that they could help… It’s just on the other side of the city, right?”

Haechan felt a knot tighten in his stomach. This was exactly what they had planned, but he wasn’t sure if they should trust this guy. People in this new world could be unpredictable. Desperation made people dangerous, sometimes more so than the infected.

Mark didn’t lower the bat but gave the man a measured look. “Yeah, we’re heading that way. But it’s not easy getting there. You can’t just walk in and expect things to be... normal.”

“I know,” the man whispered, his hands trembling as he wiped his face, smearing dirt across his forehead. “I don’t care about normal anymore. I just... I need to get there. Please, I can’t be alone. I don’t have much left.” His voice cracked at the end, and Haechan saw the faintest glint of tears in his eyes, though he quickly wiped them away, embarrassed by his own vulnerability.

The silence stretched for a moment. Haechan could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air. Mark was already scanning their surroundings, his posture tense, but his eyes flickered back to Haechan, waiting for him to make a call. Haechan knew they couldn’t risk a fight—not here, not now. But they couldn’t risk dragging someone along who might slow them down or, worse, lead them into a trap.

“We’re not going to leave you out here to die,” Haechan said quietly, surprising even himself with the certainty in his voice. He met Mark’s eyes. “But we’re not a charity. We keep moving. We stay quiet. We don’t trust anyone unless we have to. Understand?”

The man nodded quickly, his breath shaky with a mix of fear and relief. “I understand. I won’t slow you down, I swear. I just… I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed to even ask. “I’ll keep my distance. I’ll do what you say.”

Haechan looked at Mark again, who still seemed skeptical but ultimately nodded.

“Alright,” Mark said. “But if you try anything, if you put us at risk, we’re leaving you behind.”

The man’s shoulders slumped in resignation, and he gave a meek nod. “I won’t. Thank you... Thank you for this. You don’t know what it’s like, out here... alone.”

They didn’t speak much as they continued down the highway. The man—who introduced himself as Ian—kept a few paces behind them, never once trying to move ahead. He was quiet, his eyes scanning the surroundings constantly, but there was a visible wariness in his posture, like he was waiting for something to go wrong. He was in his mid to late forties, which was a bit of difference since Haechan and Mark were in their early twenties.

They walked for a few hours, making their way steadily down the desolate highway, and Haechan tried to keep his focus on the road ahead. The city around them felt like a ghost town, like something had erased it from the world and left only the remnants behind. They passed more wrecked cars, overturned and burned-out vehicles, and empty buildings. The further they went, the quieter it became. It was almost as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break the stillness.

Ian was the first to break the silence.

“Do you think they’re still out there?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “The zombies, I mean. The ones who didn’t—” He hesitated, his throat working as if the words were hard to get out. “The ones who didn’t get... wiped out, I guess.”

Haechan slowed his pace slightly, glancing over his shoulder. The question wasn’t an easy one, and he didn’t know the answer. “Maybe. Maybe not. They’re unpredictable. One minute, they’re everywhere; the next, it’s like they just… vanish.”

Mark shot Haechan a look, but didn’t say anything. He was focused on keeping their progress steady and quiet.

“Do you think the base is still there? Still standing?” Ian pressed, his voice now tinged with a kind of raw, fragile hope.

“It has to be,” Haechan replied, trying to sound confident, though his own doubt lingered just beneath the surface. "I’m betting it’s the last place still holding out nearby. If we make it there, we’ll be safe." He chose to keep their radios a secret for now, he still did not fully trust the man and probably wouldn’t for a while.

Haechan glanced at Mark, who didn’t meet his gaze. Mark knew what he was thinking. But they didn’t have time for doubts. They had to keep moving.

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to find shelter for the night. There was no telling what would happen once the dark settled in.

“We’ll stop for the night soon,” Mark said, his voice a little rough. “We need to keep our strength up, especially if we’re getting closer to any danger. Let’s find a place to lay low.”

Haechan nodded, but as they walked, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was still watching them. He kept his eyes darting to the periphery, expecting something to jump out from the shadows at any moment.

The world had changed too much for anyone to feel safe.

But they kept moving. And they kept hoping.

Chapter Text

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the chill of evening crept over the highway, signaling that it was time to find shelter for the night. The shadows grew longer, and the distant, lifeless buildings around them seemed to take on a more oppressive, foreboding tone as darkness fell.

Mark slowed his pace, his eyes scanning the area as they walked. "We need to find somewhere to hole up for the night," he said, his voice low but urgent. "Somewhere off the road. We can't risk being out here once it gets fully dark."

Haechan nodded, his nerves on edge. He'd been trying not to think about the possible dangers lurking in the dark, but the thought was always there—hovering in the back of his mind. They’d been walking for hours, and though the quiet streets had given them no trouble, they knew that could change at any moment.

Ian was still trailing behind them, his footsteps soft and measured, almost too cautious. He hadn’t spoken much since they’d set out again after the brief encounter earlier, and Haechan was starting to wonder just how much the man had truly been through.

"We could check out that old gas station up ahead," Mark suggested, pointing to a dilapidated building in the distance, half-hidden by the overgrown weeds and piles of debris that had once been a bustling highway stop. It looked abandoned, but then again, everything did now.

"Gas station?" Haechan raised an eyebrow. "Do you think it’ll be safe? Looks like it’s been deserted for a while."

Mark nodded, though the doubt in his eyes was clear. "It’s a risk, but it’s better than camping out in the open. We’ll need to take a look inside, make sure there’s no one—or nothing—waiting for us."

They quickened their pace, their movements deliberate but quiet, the weight of the decision hanging heavy on them. They didn’t need another run-in with anyone or anything that might be lurking out there. As they approached the gas station, Haechan couldn’t shake the unease that seemed to settle over him like a fog. The place looked like a ghost town—everything was still, abandoned.

“Keep your guard up,” Mark murmured as they reached the entrance. He motioned for them to circle around the back first, making sure there were no signs of life—or worse, any undead waiting to ambush them.

They moved in a tight formation, checking every corner, every window, their hearts beating faster with each step. As they made their way around the back of the gas station, they came upon a rusted metal door. It was partially ajar, and the faint smell of decay drifted from the cracks, mixing with the stale air.

Haechan's fingers tightened around the hunting knife, and Mark gestured to Haechan to stay back for a moment. The door creaked as Mark pushed it open, and they slowly stepped inside.

The gas station was as empty as it had appeared on the outside. Old shelves stood against the walls, some of them toppled over, covered in dust. There were no signs of any recent activity—no movement, no fresh footprints. It looked as if it had been abandoned for years, not months. Yet there was something unsettling about it. The silence in here felt different, thicker somehow.

Ian stepped in behind them, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at him. "Are we sure it’s safe?" he asked in a whisper, his voice low.

"It’s as safe as it’s going to get," Mark replied, his voice flat. He moved to one of the windows and peered out, scanning the road for any signs of movement. "We’ll make it work."

They decided to settle in for the night, taking a spot near the back of the building, away from the windows. Haechan checked the shelves one more time, looking for any supplies that might still be useful. The place was mostly barren, but he managed to find a few cans of food, some bottled water, and a couple of flashlights that still had batteries.

They set up their small camp in the back corner, huddling together for warmth as the temperature dropped. Haechan and Mark kept their weapons close, their eyes constantly scanning the darkness outside. Ian sat across from them, still silent, though his eyes were wide with a mix of fear and exhaustion.

For a long time, none of them spoke. The silence was oppressive, only broken by the occasional scrape of a rat or the soft whisper of the wind outside.

Eventually, Haechan couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know more about the man they had brought along—about what had happened to him.

"Hey," Haechan said softly, his voice breaking the quiet. "You never told us what happened to you. How did you end up out there, alone?"

Ian flinched slightly, as though the question had startled him, but after a long moment, he finally spoke. "I was with a group... We were trying to get to the base too, just like you guys. We thought it would be safe. But..." He paused, his hands trembling slightly as he hugged his knees to his chest. "We got ambushed by a group of raiders. They took everything—our food, our weapons, even our clothes. Left us with nothing. Some of the others... they didn’t make it. I tried to keep going, but... it’s hard, you know? After a while, you just... start losing people. Losing yourself."

Haechan felt a pang of sympathy for the man, but he couldn’t let himself show it too much. How did the man know the direction of the camp with no radio? Trust was a fragile thing now, and it wasn’t something they could afford to give away easily. Still, he understood the kind of loss Ian had suffered. He had also lost someone, Silus.

"That’s tough," Haechan said, his voice quieter now. "But you’re here now. You’ve got a chance. We’ll get to the base. It’s the only way forward."

Ian nodded, but his eyes were distant, like he wasn’t really seeing them anymore. He was lost in his own thoughts, his mind still back with his group, his past.

"We need to sleep," Mark said abruptly, breaking the silence again. "We leave early tomorrow. The base won’t wait for us."

None of them argued. They needed rest. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, they settled into their spots. Haechan pulled his jacket tighter around him, trying to ignore the weight of the night pressing in on him. He knew sleep would be difficult, his mind too alert for anything that might happen.

Mark decided he would stay up and keep watch first. Now that they weren’t in as a secure building, it was better to have someone on the lookout. They also still didn’t fully trust Ian so Mark wanted to keep an eye on him.

The world outside felt so still, too still. It was almost as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to change.

Haechan closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to the road ahead. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new dangers. But it was a step forward. A step closer to the base.

He subconsciously moved himself closer to Mark and a bit further away from Ian. He had a sad story, but he couldn’t trust anyone too easily. Haechan felt like he understood Mark’s initial coldness to him when they first met after encountering Ian.

He was glad Mark had opened up more and he felt they were truly friends now. At least Haechan felt that way. He hoped Mark felt similarly. But there was always that bit of tension between them, some unspoken feeling or connection.

With those thoughts, Haechan drifted into sleep.

The hours passed slowly, the quiet of the gas station pressing in from all sides. Haechan tried to focus on his breathing, willing himself to relax, but the weight of the world outside kept him on edge. He had slept for a while, having just woken up a couple minutes ago. Every creak of the building, every rustle of the wind outside felt amplified in the stillness. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound of other people—living people—until it was gone.

His thoughts drifted between memories of the past and the unsettling present, always returning to one question: What if they weren’t alone here? What if someone was watching them? Or worse, what if something was waiting just beyond the broken windows?

A gentle hand on his shoulder roused him from his half-slumber, and he startled awake, his heart racing. Mark’s face appeared above him, his eyes sharp but tired.

“Time to switch,” Mark said, his voice low but firm. “You’re on watch now. Get up.”

Haechan rubbed his eyes, blinking against the fog of sleep. The transition from dreamless rest to alertness was always harsh, and the harshness of their situation only made it worse. Still, he nodded, sitting up with a quiet groan.

“Alright,” Haechan murmured, glancing toward where Ian had curled up against the wall. The man was still asleep, huddled with his arms around his knees, his head tucked low.

Mark hesitated, then spoke again. “We’ll take turns, but not him, not until we’re sure he’s not a risk.”

Haechan’s brow furrowed, catching the edge of Mark’s tone. “You mean... you don’t trust him.”

Mark didn’t answer immediately. He glanced over his shoulder at Ian, then back at Haechan. His lips tightened into a thin line, a clear sign of his unease. “Not yet. Not completely. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe with him. And if he’s been lying to us—if he’s hiding something—it’s better to be cautious.”

Haechan understood. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that people always acted in their best interest, especially not in this world. But the growing tension between Ian and the pair made his own stomach tighten. It felt like there was a ghost between them, a shadow that hung over their camp.

“Alright,” Haechan said, pulling himself up to his feet. “I’ll take this watch. You get some sleep.”

Mark gave him a curt nod and collapsed into the corner, wrapping his arms around himself. His eyes never fully closed, though, always alert. Haechan took the position Mark had vacated, sliding into the shadows near the back wall, his eyes trained on the cracked windows.

The world outside was still. The wind had died down, leaving the night air hanging heavy and cold. For a while, Haechan thought he might lose himself in the stillness, but then a distant noise caught his attention—a faint scraping sound, like metal dragging against concrete.

His hand went to the hunting knife at his belt, and he focused on the sound, waiting for it to come closer. His eyes swept across the dark expanse of the road outside, but there was nothing. The sound came again, louder this time. Scraping... scraping.

A rat.

Haechan exhaled, relieved but still tense. He forced himself to settle back into his position, eyes darting between the shadows outside and the still form of Ian. The man’s shallow breathing and the faint rising and falling of his chest did little to put Haechan’s mind at ease. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Ian was hiding something. The way he kept to himself. The way he had flinched when Haechan asked him about his past.

Time seemed to stretch on forever. Haechan's eyelids grew heavy, but he refused to let his guard down.

It was another hour before Mark finally stirred, groggily pushing himself up from the floor. His eyes were red-rimmed, a clear sign that he hadn't managed much sleep. Still, he moved toward Haechan, his face set in determination.

“Your turn’s up. I’ll take over.”

Haechan stood and stretched, his limbs stiff from the awkward position. His body had barely relaxed before he noticed something strange in Mark’s gaze. It was subtle—a flicker in his eyes, a hint of wariness. But it was enough to remind Haechan that, while the bond between them had deepened over the days they'd spent together, Mark was always thinking, always observing, always protecting.

As Haechan moved to settle into the corner, he glanced at Ian one last time. The man hadn’t moved an inch, his face half-hidden in the shadows. The question of whether or not they could trust him was still hanging in the air, but they were in no position to confront it just yet. The night was too quiet for comfort, and the road ahead was still too uncertain.

Mark took a slow, deliberate breath, his eyes locking with Haechan's for a brief moment. There was something in his gaze now—an understanding, a silent agreement. They were in this together. But trust, especially now, was earned. And Ian still had a long way to go.

"Get some sleep," Mark said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We move out at first light."

Haechan nodded, though the unease still gnawed at him. He settled down, curling into the small space near the wall, his jacket pulled tight around him. Sleep found him eventually, but it wasn’t peaceful. Every time he closed his eyes, he was aware of the shadows, aware of the stillness, and the one man in the room who had yet to prove his worth.

Tomorrow, they would press on. Tomorrow, they would need to face the truth of what Ian really was.

And Haechan wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

–

The night stretched on, the stillness between them almost tangible. Outside, the wind had picked up again, sending the dry, brittle leaves scraping against the side of the gas station. Inside, Haechan's thoughts kept drifting back to the tension he had felt earlier—both the atmosphere of the place and the unspoken weight between him and Mark, causing him to lay there awake when he should’ve taken the opportunity to rest.

His eyes flicked toward Mark in the dim light, where the other man stood near the windows, scanning the road, his silhouette outlined by the faint glow of the dim moonlight. Mark was always vigilant, always watching, and though he’d seemed cold at first, there was a kind of quiet strength about him. Haechan didn’t know what it was, but something about him kept pulling Haechan’s gaze. It wasn’t just the way Mark looked at him sometimes—intense, almost as though he were seeing through him—but the way Mark cared, even when he didn’t show it.

Haechan found himself drawn to those quiet moments between them, moments when Mark’s eyes softened just slightly, as if the harshness of the world outside had momentarily slipped away, leaving just the two of them in a space where it was okay to breathe.

The air inside the gas station felt cold, but it was nothing compared to the chill Haechan sometimes felt when Mark would look at him with that unreadable expression—like he was trying to decide whether he was a threat, or maybe something more.

Haechan shifted slightly on the floor, trying to find a more comfortable spot, but his gaze drifted back to Mark. The moonlight shone nicely on the man, accentuating his handsome features. Haechan swallowed, a strange flutter in his chest that he tried to ignore.

He caught himself. It was stupid. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about... ‘that’. There were more important things to focus on. Survival, for one. Trust, for another.

Still, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something more between them.

Mark shifted, turning his head just slightly toward him, their eyes meeting for a brief second. It wasn’t long, but it was enough. Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, and he quickly looked away, focusing on the floor in front of him. He wasn’t sure if Mark had noticed, or if it was just his imagination.

But that glance—there was something there, something unspoken that lingered between them, like a thread connecting them despite the walls they had built up around themselves. Haechan couldn’t be sure if it was real, or if his mind was playing tricks on him, but something about the way Mark looked at him, with a quiet intensity that bordered on affection, made his heart race.

After a long moment, Mark cleared his throat softly, his voice breaking the silence. “You alright?” He was still speaking quietly so as to not wake Ian.

The question was simple, but there was something more to it. It wasn’t just about the watch. It was about Haechan. Mark didn’t need to ask. They both knew the weight of the world outside, the danger that lurked just beyond the broken windows. But there was something in his tone, something softer than usual.

“Yeah,” Haechan replied, his voice quieter than he intended. “Just... tired. You know how it is.”

Mark’s eyes lingered on him for a second too long, as if searching for something in Haechan’s expression. Then, as if realizing how much time had passed, he broke eye contact and returned his focus to the road outside.

But Haechan couldn’t help but notice the slight tension in Mark’s shoulders as he adjusted his position. He wondered if Mark was just as aware of that moment as he was—or if he had felt the unspoken connection between them too. The kind that made the air feel heavier, thicker, when they shared a glance.

Minutes passed, and the weight of their proximity continued to press down on Haechan’s chest. It was strange. Back when they first met, Mark had been cold, distant. But now... now there was something different. Something that felt like the flicker of a flame, barely contained, yet still present.

Haechan pulled his knees closer to his chest, trying to push aside the quiet stirring in his chest. He wasn’t going to let it distract him. Not now, not when they had so much to survive.

When Mark spoke again, his voice broke the stillness in a way that felt almost too intimate. “Haechan.”

His name felt different on Mark’s lips. There was something quiet about it, like it held weight in a way it hadn’t before. Haechan blinked, his breath catching for a moment. He turned his head toward Mark, meeting his gaze, but he didn’t speak right away.

"Yeah?" His voice came out softer than he meant, like it was trailing a question that hadn’t yet been asked.

Mark shifted slightly, his eyes not quite meeting his. There was a flicker of something there, but it was gone too quickly for Haechan to pin down. He swallowed, the air suddenly feeling warmer despite the chill.

“You, uh... you used to have a friend, right? Before all this. You don’t... talk about them much.”

Haechan froze, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t expected anything like it. It felt too... personal, too raw. It was strange, that Mark would want to know, especially now.

But there it was. That question, hanging in the air like a quiet, unasked plea. Haechan took a breath, trying to steady himself. He was glad Mark was initiating some sort of conversation not to do with plans or anything like that. He had mentioned having a friend once very briefly, he was surprised Mark remembered it.

Mark wasn’t looking at him directly now, his eyes scanning the shadows, his jaw tight. He seemed to be trying to mask whatever it was he had meant by the question, as if asking had been a mistake. But Haechan knew Mark well enough by now to know that wasn’t true. It wasn’t a mistake. It was something else.

“Yeah,” Haechan said slowly, his throat tight. “I had a friend. I... I only knew him for about a month. We were in the city for a while. Then we decided to head to explore abandoned buildings, just the two of us. He thought it would be fun, you know?”

He paused, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about—the people he had lost. It hurt too much, and now, with Mark here, he wasn’t sure he could handle it again. But then again, of course he liked Silus, but their friendship was so brief that he didn’t feel too immense of a loss. Just guilt.

Mark’s voice was soft when he spoke, almost like he didn’t want to intrude too much. "What happened?"

Haechan let out a quiet breath, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn't want to go back to that place.

“We... we were reckless. Stupid.” The words felt heavy as he said them. “We got to an abandoned hospital and I … I warned him not to touch anything.” His voice faltered for a moment, but he forced himself to keep going, as if saying the words would somehow make it real. “I tried to stop him, but... it was too late.”

There was silence for a moment, and Haechan wished he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t meant to open up about it, but now the words were out in the open. He wanted to take them back, bury them deep where they belonged, but he couldn’t.

“He touched something and it changed him.” Haechan said. Now that he was thinking about it, was he really going to reveal to Mark that Silus and him were the start of the zombie apocalypse? Haechan didn’t know how Mark would react to that and decided to keep that to himself for now, just ending his story by saying, “He died, then the virus broke out.”

Mark was looking at him now, his expression unreadable, but there was a softness to his eyes that Haechan hadn’t seen before. It made the silence feel heavier, more intimate, as if the weight of the world outside didn’t matter in that moment.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Mark said, his voice almost too gentle, as if he was afraid Haechan might pull away.

Haechan shook his head, though, a small, bitter smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not that. It’s just...” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He wanted to explain, to somehow make Mark understand, but the words felt too small. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it, you know? Like—like we’re all just surviving for survival’s sake. But what happens when we get to the base? What happens then?”

Mark’s gaze softened even more, and for a moment, he didn’t look like the hardened, cold man Haechan had first met on the road. He looked... human. The tension in his posture eased, just a little, like he understood.

“We’ll figure it out,” Mark said quietly, almost as if he was saying it to himself as much as Haechan. “We’ll get there, and we’ll figure it out. We don’t have to have all the answers now.”

Haechan swallowed, unsure how to respond. He could feel the weight of Mark’s words, but more than that, he could feel the quiet reassurance in his tone, the way it anchored him in a way he hadn’t expected. He had always believed that getting to the base was just about reaching the end, but maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t about the destination. It was about the people who got you there. The people who stayed.

Mark was still looking at him, his expression steady and calm. Something about the way he held Haechan’s gaze felt like a quiet promise, something unsaid but still understood. Haechan wasn’t sure what it was—if it was the weight of their shared silence, or the way Mark was looking at him now—but he felt the oddest flutter in his chest, a warmth that spread through him despite the cold.

They didn’t speak for a while after that, but the air between them felt different. Lighter. As if the walls that had been carefully constructed between them had shifted, just enough for a crack of something else to slip through. Something fragile, something human.

Mark turned his gaze back to the window, but Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. Maybe it wasn’t just about survival anymore. Maybe it was about finding something to hold onto in the midst of all this chaos.

And, for the first time in a long while, Haechan thought maybe—just maybe—that something was right beside him.

The silence between them deepened, not uncomfortable but rich with a kind of understanding that Haechan wasn’t used to. The steady rhythm of Mark’s breathing filled the space, steady and calm, grounding him in a way the world outside could not. For a while, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Haechan could feel the weight of their shared moment in the quiet, the tension that had always existed between them beginning to soften, ever so slightly.

It was strange. In the midst of everything—everything they’d lost, everything they were still fighting for—he had never imagined it would be Mark, of all people, who would help him feel this… human again.

He didn’t feel like the loner who was always holed up in his room, that only had one friendship which in itself was a coincidence. With Mark he felt a connection, he felt like he could be himself. After the zombie apocalypse started, he felt like a monster, even though he was still human.

He knew deep in his heart that he had contributed to the virus’ spread and that countless people died and were dying because of it. He also knew deep down that it also wasn’t fully his fault, and technically it was Silus’ fault. With or without Haechan there, Silus still probably would have explored the hospital and discovered the mysterious liquid.

Haechan felt a strange feeling in his chest. He felt as though he was hiding the truth, that he was lying to Mark. Betraying his trust by not telling him the full story and it was killing him.

Haechan couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Something he couldn’t define, something that was more than just the weight of the world closing in around them. Maybe it was the way Mark had looked at him just then, like he wasn’t just the survivor of a broken world, but someone worth knowing, even in the midst of all this chaos.

His heart beat a little faster at the thought, and his mind fought to push it away. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. He couldn’t afford to.

Mark shifted again, his eyes glancing briefly back at Haechan, and the brief moment when their gazes met sent a wave of warmth coursing through Haechan’s chest, like the softest spark of light in a darkened room. His look lingered for a fraction of a second too long, as if there was something unsaid between them that neither of them was ready to voice. Something more than just survival.

Haechan broke eye contact first, clearing his throat as he tried to push down the way his pulse quickened. The tension wasn’t gone, not completely. But it felt... different. More complicated than it had been before. He wished he could brush it off, move past it like he did everything else, but for some reason, this felt different.

The wind outside howled louder now, a chill creeping into the room. It was a sharp contrast to the warmth that had briefly flickered between them, but it didn’t drive the feeling away. Haechan curled his knees a little tighter against his chest, staring at the ground but feeling Mark's presence like a weight close to him. He had become a kind of anchor in this storm.

Would telling Mark the truth ruin their progressing relationship that Haechan began to cherish?

“Hey, Mark…” Haechan’s voice broke the silence, softer than he meant, but slightly tense, like he was holding something back. Mark noticed him fidgeting with his hands and looking nervous.

“Hm?” Mark responded, glancing back over his shoulder. There was no tension in his voice, no guardedness. Just a quiet openness that made Haechan’s chest tighten.

“How do you think the virus started?” Haechan asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the question itself felt too heavy.

The question hung in the air between them, a quiet tension settling over Haechan like a heavy blanket. Mark's gaze flickered over to him again, his brow furrowing slightly. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the way Haechan had pulled inward, his hands restless, his eyes unsure. It was like he was carrying something heavy, something Haechan didn’t want to speak, but felt like he had to.

Mark tilted his head slightly, his voice gentle but curious. "Why do you ask?"

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat. The words were right there, stuck somewhere between his ribs, tight and painful. He had been carrying this guilt for so long, feeling like it was a part of him now—something he couldn’t shed, no matter how hard he tried.

But he couldn’t keep hiding it anymore.

“I… I know how it started," Haechan said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I was there when it happened." He paused, struggling to push the words out. His stomach churned, and his chest felt like it was caving in on him. The truth felt so heavy in his mouth, like it could break everything between them.

Mark didn't speak right away, but his silence felt like an invitation. A space for Haechan to continue, if he was ready.

“The story I told you about my friend Silus,” Haechan said, his voice faltering. “He… he found some kind of... liquid.” Haechan's voice trembled as he remembered the way Silus had acted, so reckless, so full of curiosity. The way he had touched that vial, never knowing the consequences. “He touched it. And after that... he changed. He turned into... one of them.” Haechan shuddered, his hands tightening into fists. "He died. And then the virus... it spread. Fast."

The room seemed to hold its breath. Haechan could feel the weight of Mark’s gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, as if trying to process the magnitude of what he was saying. The silence stretched on, unbearably long. Haechan’s heart pounded in his chest.

Finally, Mark spoke, his voice tight with disbelief. "You’re telling me… it was you—you were there when it happened? And you didn’t stop it?"

Haechan winced, the words cutting deeper than he expected. "I tried to stop him," he said quickly, his voice rising with frustration. "But it happened so fast. We didn't know what it was. There was nothing I could do to stop it. If I’d known—if I’d known... I would have done anything to stop it. But I didn’t know what it was back then." His voice was quivering, he was struggling to speak.

Mark was silent for a long moment. Haechan couldn’t meet his eyes, his face burning with shame. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. But then, he noticed something in Mark’s gaze. It wasn’t anger. Not the rage Haechan had expected. It was confusion, yes, but there was something else—something softer. As if Mark was still processing it, still trying to understand.

Haechan swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I’m sorry," he whispered, the apology hanging in the air like a fragile thread. "I should’ve told you sooner. I just—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "I didn’t want you to think it was my fault. I didn’t want to ruin… what we have." His voice cracked slightly on the last part, and for a moment, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t stop a tear from streaming down one of his cheeks.

Even through the darkness, Mark could make out the reflection of the tear. Mark’s expression softened, his jaw tightening as he seemed to wrestle with the weight of Haechan’s words. He took a step closer, then another, and soon he was sitting next to him, close enough that Haechan could feel the warmth of his body. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Haechan’s mind was spinning, and his heart was racing, but then Mark’s voice broke through the fog of his thoughts.

"Haechan..." Mark said, his voice low and careful. "I get it. I do. You didn’t know what would happen. And honestly? You couldn’t have stopped it, not like that. It wasn’t your fault."

There was a tenderness in Mark’s words that caught Haechan off guard. It wasn’t just the forgiveness he hadn't expected, but something deeper—something softer. Something that told Haechan that Mark understood more than he was saying. Mark raised his hand to Haechan’s cheek and wiped his tear away gently.

"But..." Mark’s voice trailed off, as if searching for the right words. "It’s still a lot to carry. You’ve been carrying it alone all this time, and you shouldn’t have to. I’m glad you told me."

Haechan looked up at Mark then, his heart fluttering in his chest at the raw sincerity in his eyes. For the first time, Haechan allowed himself to let the words settle in—he was not alone. And Mark wasn’t mad at him, surprisingly.

Mark continued, his gaze softening further, "I can see how hard this is for you. And I know it wasn’t easy to tell me. But I'm glad you did. Really. I can’t promise that it’s all going to be fine, but what I can promise is that we will figure it out. The two of us."

Haechan’s breath caught, and his chest felt tight in a way that wasn’t just from the weight of the past. He had always expected Mark to be this cold, distant figure in his life, someone who would never let him in. But here Mark was—open, accepting, not running away, not pushing him away like Haechan had feared.

A strange warmth spread through Haechan’s chest, filling the empty spaces he hadn’t realized were there. It was more than just relief. It was the feeling of being seen, truly seen, and understood for the first time in a long time.

Mark met his gaze again, his eyes soft and steady, his hand still lingering on Haechan’s cheek. "You’re not a monster, Haechan," he said quietly. "You’re just... human. Like the rest of us. We all make mistakes. It’s what we do after that matters."

Haechan let out a shaky breath, his shoulders loosening for the first time in what felt like forever. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse. It felt inadequate, but it was all he could say.

Mark gave a small nod, his hand softly caressing Haechan’s cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a promise in itself. “You’re welcome,” he said with a light smile.

For a long moment, they just sat there, in the quiet. Mark sat right next to Haechan, their shoulders touching. The storm outside still raged, but inside the gas station, there was a sense of calm—of something that felt solid, unbreakable. Haechan felt safe, despite their dangerous situation.

In that moment, Haechan realized something: maybe the world had been broken, maybe it was falling apart, but as long as they had each other, maybe it didn’t matter so much.

Chapter Text

The warmth between Haechan and Mark lingered in the air, but as their quiet moment stretched on, something else stirred in the shadows of the room. The wind outside howled, pressing against the broken windows, but inside the gas station, it was silent enough that even the faintest sounds stood out.

Haechan could feel Mark’s shoulder against his shoulder, steady and reassuring, grounding him in a way that made the weight of everything—everything he’d lost, everything he was afraid of—seem just a little more bearable. Mark’s hand had also found it’s way onto Haechan’s knee as a reassuring gesture.

But then, from the corner of the room, a soft rustling sound broke the stillness. It was so faint that at first, neither of them moved. It could’ve been the wind, or the creaking of the building settling in on itself, but the longer it went on, the more it felt like something... or someone... was out of place.

Mark’s body stiffened, his hand sliding off Haechan’s knee as his senses sharpened. He scanned the room, his eyes narrowing toward the far corner where Ian had been sleeping, though Haechan hadn't noticed him stir for a while.

"Haechan," Mark murmured, his voice barely audible, "Did you hear that?"

Haechan's body tensed instinctively. "What—?" His voice was still thick with the vulnerability that had seeped into him, but he cut himself off as he caught the look in Mark’s eyes. Something was wrong.

There, in the dim light, Ian was sitting up. His body was unnaturally still, his hands gripping his knees so tightly that his knuckles were white. He hadn’t said a word since Haechan’s confession, but now, he was staring directly at them, his eyes wide and unblinking. Something about the way he looked at them made Haechan’s heart skip a beat—something dangerous.

The realization hit Haechan like a jolt of cold electricity.

"Ian?" Mark said sharply, his tone demanding an explanation. He stood up slowly, his instincts already on high alert, but he didn’t make a move toward Ian just yet.

Ian didn’t answer at first. His gaze flickered between them, his lips curling into a tight, humorless smile. His silence spoke volumes. He had heard everything. Everything.

"I heard you," Ian finally spoke, his voice low, almost monotone. "I heard everything."

Haechan froze. His stomach churned. The way Ian was looking at him now—there was nothing human in it. The friendly, wary traveler who had joined them on the road was gone. In his place was something colder, darker.

"You think you can just hide it?" Ian's voice cracked, his fists tightening even more. "You think you can just keep that from me, from us? That you were the one who started it all?" His eyes burned with something twisted. "You didn’t stop it. You were there at the start."

Haechan’s breath hitched. His pulse quickened as the weight of Ian’s words sank in. Ian knew. He knew everything.

"I didn’t—" Haechan started to explain, but the words caught in his throat as Ian stood up suddenly, his movements jerky, almost too quick.

"You did," Ian snarled, his voice rising. "You were there when it happened. And now look at what it's cost us. Look at what you've done!" His hand reached down to the side where he had tucked his weapon—a rusted, jagged knife, its blade reflecting the faint light from the window.

Mark’s body went tense, his hand instinctively reaching for his own weapon at his waist. “Ian, stop. Put the knife down. This isn’t the way to—”

But Ian wasn’t listening. His gaze was locked on Haechan, rage building behind his eyes, a wild energy pulsing in his movements. "You’re the reason all of this happened," he spat, his voice thick with venom. "You killed them. You killed everyone."

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at Ian in disbelief. This was it. This was how it ended. He had known the guilt would eat him alive, but he hadn’t imagined it would come in the form of a person so close—someone he had tried to trust. Someone he knew only for a couple hours.

"I didn’t mean for this to happen," Haechan’s voice trembled, but he pushed himself to stand, his hands held out as if to calm Ian down. "I didn’t start it. It wasn’t—"

Ian took a step forward, cutting him off, and Haechan took a step back instinctively. His heart was racing, his chest tight, but his body refused to stop him from retreating.

“You were there,” Ian repeated, his eyes wild. “And you didn’t stop him. You could’ve stopped him. You could’ve—”

“Ian!” Mark snapped, his voice sharp with authority, and suddenly, he was stepping between Haechan and Ian, his stance protective. "Put the knife down. Now." He demanded.

For a moment, Ian hesitated, his eyes flickering between Mark and Haechan. His hand trembled as he gripped the knife tighter, the blade glinting in the low light. Mark stood his ground, his eyes cold and resolute.

“You don’t get to kill him,” Mark said, his voice low but unwavering. “This isn’t on him. Not like you think.”

Ian’s breath was ragged, his eyes full of something desperate, something broken. "You don’t understand," he hissed. "You don’t know what it's like to lose everything. To watch the world burn and know it’s your fault. You don’t get it!"

Mark stepped forward, his voice still calm, but with a new intensity. “Ian, listen to me. You’re not the only one who's lost. You’re not the only one who’s suffering. But killing him won’t bring them back. Killing him won’t make this any easier.” His eyes softened, just for a moment, as he looked at Haechan. “You think I don’t understand what it’s like to carry that kind of weight? That guilt? We all carry it, Ian.”

For the first time, Ian’s anger faltered. His shoulders dropped slightly, and the hand holding the knife wavered, as if the tension was draining out of him. But then, something flickered in his expression—something that made him look even more dangerous.

"You don’t understand," Ian repeated, but now his voice was quieter. "You think you're all just innocent in this? Haechan started it. He's the reason everyone died. And I..." His voice cracked, like he was on the edge of something, something beyond rage. "I need to make him pay." They hadn't even known each other that long, damn. So much for adding another person to their partnership.

Mark’s expression hardened again, his jaw tight. He stepped closer to Ian, his hand ready to draw his own weapon if necessary. "You need to let this go," he said, his voice steady but forceful. “This won’t bring them back. It’s not the answer. And if you make me, I’ll make sure you don’t hurt him.”

The tension in the room was suffocating. Ian’s eyes darted between them, his body shaking with the weight of his anger, his grief. The knife trembled in his grip. Haechan’s pulse raced, but for some reason, in that moment, it wasn’t just fear he felt. It was something else, too—a strange, tight hope that Mark could keep him safe. That Mark could stop this.

The silence stretched, long and thick.

The silence broke as Ian’s shaky breath echoed through the room, the tension between the three of them palpable, like an invisible storm just waiting to unleash. Mark’s posture was still steady, but Haechan could see the muscles in his back tightening, the way his hand hovered near the hilt of his bat, poised but patient. His other hand laid lightly against his gun that was hidden in his clothes. It was the calm before the inevitable.

"I’m not letting you hurt him, Ian," Mark’s voice cut through the thick air. His gaze was hard now, like a shield raised to protect, to hold the storm back. He stepped forward slowly, his eyes never leaving Ian, who was still gripped by that frenzied mix of grief and fury.

But then Ian, with an almost animalistic growl, lunged. The movement was fast, frantic—he wasn’t thinking anymore, just reacting, his fingers closing around the jagged edge of the knife and slashing wildly toward Mark. Mark barely dodged in time, the blade grazing the side of his jacket as he twisted to the side, the sudden rush of movement knocking Ian off balance.

“Mark!” Haechan cried out, his body moving before he could fully register it. He rushed forward, but the danger was too close now, too real.

Mark had already regained his footing, but Ian was relentless. His eyes, wide with that terrible, obsessive need for retribution, focused solely on Haechan as if the world had shrunk down to this moment of fury. With a primal yell, Ian swung again, but this time Mark was ready. He parried the strike, their bodies crashing together with the sound of scraping metal, and Mark pushed Ian back with enough force to stagger him.

“Ian, stop!” Mark’s voice thundered in the chaos. But Ian was too far gone. The rage in his eyes had eclipsed everything else—he wasn’t listening. Ian shot forward again, straight at Mark. In order to get to Haechan he realized he’d have to get past the man. He swung his knife recklessly and was knocked to the ground by Mark, but he still managed to do a bit of damage. Instead of his knife hitting Mark near his chest where Ian was aiming, it sliced against his leg instead.

With a sharp intake of breath, Mark finally acted. He grabbed Ian’s wrist in a vice-like grip, twisting his arm until the knife was forced from his hand, clattering to the ground. But even disarmed, Ian wasn’t done. He stood up and his fist moved, aiming for Mark’s jaw, but Mark ducked under the punch, countering with a swift knee to Ian’s midsection that knocked the wind out of him. Ian stumbled back, gasping for air, a wave of shock dawning on his face.

Mark didn’t give him the chance to recover. He grabbed Ian’s shoulder, spinning him away and throwing him into the far wall with a force that left Ian gasping in pain, the breath knocked out of him.

Haechan watched in stunned silence, the sound of their struggle like a brutal symphony. His heart pounded in his chest, the fear now mixing with an unexplainable sense of guilt. But there was no time to think. Mark was already moving, his hand gripping Haechan’s wrist, pulling him toward the door that led to the back exit.

“Go!” Mark’s voice was fierce, but there was a note of urgency that cut through the panic. “We need to move.”

Haechan stumbled as he followed, his legs weak with the adrenaline surging through him. He looked back one last time, his eyes catching Ian’s. The look on Ian’s face wasn’t just anger anymore—it was something darker, something broken. But there was no time to dwell on that. Mark had already pulled him out the door and into the bitter night air.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Only a moment after stepping outside the gas station, Ian came running out after and got a hold of Haechan. His knife was long forgotten and now he only had his hands to work with.

The man was much older and stronger physically than Haechan and he quickly wrapped his calloused hands around Haechan’s neck, cutting off his breathing.

Haechan choked, trying to pull the man’s hands away, but he couldn’t. He resorted to hitting and kicked the man but to no avail.

Mark on the other hand came towards them in a flash, swinging his bat at Ian with incredible speed and strength.

It hit Ian directly on the back of the head, causing his to loosen his grip for a moment, but his grip regained strength quickly, not allowing Haechan to get away.

His face started to go a bit purple and his eyesight was faltering. He was going to die by suffocating. His body began going a little bit weak and he couldn’t think straight anymore.

As his eyesight went black, he heard a loud bang and the hands on his neck retreat, or slide off of him. But he couldn’t really think about that because shortly after, he passed out.

–

The world was a blur when Haechan regained consciousness.

He could feel a dull ache in his head, the kind of pain that lingered just below the surface, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from realizing he was no longer at the gas station. The rough, cold ground beneath him was different. The air smelled like damp earth and something earthy—far removed from the sterile, musty air of the gas station. He tried to sit up, but his limbs were heavy, as if the air itself had been soaked in lead. The sensation of choking—of suffocating—was still fresh in his mind, like a fading echo.

But then, a soft voice pierced through the fog.

“Hey,” Mark's voice was steady, but there was an edge of concern beneath it. He was kneeling beside Haechan, a hand gently pressed against his shoulder to keep him from rising too fast. "Take it easy. We’re safe now."

Haechan blinked, trying to focus. It took him a few moments to piece everything together: the fight with Ian, the way his vision had darkened, the way his body had gone limp as he lost consciousness. The suffocating grip Ian had wrapped around his neck… Haechan shuddered, his breath still unsteady.

Mark’s hand was warm, and it grounded him. He slowly turned his head to meet Mark's gaze, finding those familiar, steady eyes, the ones that had always been his anchor in the chaos. But now, those eyes looked different—sharper, more determined. The sharp lines of exhaustion were drawn around his face, the weariness from the night’s events visible in the way his jaw was clenched. Still, there was no mistaking the relief that flickered across Mark’s face when he saw Haechan start to come to.

"How long was I out?" Haechan croaked, his throat sore and raw.

“About an hour," Mark answered, his voice soft but still clipped. "I couldn’t risk staying at the gas station, not with all the noise we made there.”

Haechan pushed himself up slowly, ignoring the pain in his head, the residual weakness from being almost strangled to death. His eyes scanned the small clearing they were in—a dense patch of trees, the fading twilight sky just visible through the branches above. They had clearly moved off the main roads, deeper into the woods. There were no lights from nearby towns, no signs of civilization except for the scattered remnants of discarded supplies that Mark had managed to carry with him. The thought of Mark carrying Haechan and a ton of supplies this far from the station all in less than an hour was a bit crazy. But when put in an insane situation, people could do pretty crazy things.

“Where are we?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“A little ways into the woods,” Mark said, glancing around. “I found this spot while you were out. It’s off the main paths, secluded enough. We should be safe here for now. At least long enough to catch our breath, there shouldn’t be any zombies here.”

Haechan nodded, looking around once more. The trees seemed to close in around them, tall and dark, their branches swaying in the soft evening breeze. The air was fresh, cool, but the stillness of the woods made Haechan feel almost trapped, like the very landscape was holding its breath along with them.

“Is Ian…?” Haechan trailed off, not sure he wanted the answer. He was afraid to hear the truth, yet he needed to know.

Mark’s expression tightened, and for a moment, his gaze fell to the ground as he let out a soft sigh. "Yeah. He’s dead." His voice was low, but there was no mistaking the hard edge to it. "I had to get you out of there, Haechan. I wasn’t about to lose you."

The words hit Haechan harder than he expected, and his chest tightened. He had known Mark was a protector, had known that he would do whatever it took to keep him safe. But hearing it—hearing that kind of raw determination—made Haechan realize just how far they’d fallen. How far the world had gone since everything started. Mark had killed the man directly, not leaving him to the zombies this time.

His mind flashed back to Ian’s accusation: *You’re the reason everyone died.* The guilt surged again, but it felt different now. It was suffocating him in a new way. Ian’s words had dug into his skin like a sharp blade, and now that the immediate danger had passed, the wound was still fresh.

Mark noticed the change in his expression, the way Haechan’s shoulders seemed to slump, like the weight of everything was coming crashing down. Mark reached out, his hand landing on Haechan’s arm in a quiet gesture of reassurance.

“Don’t let him get in your head,” Mark said, his voice firm but gentle. “I don’t care what Ian thought, alright? You didn’t start any of this. He’s just using you as a scapegoat for his own pain.”

“I don’t know, Mark,” Haechan whispered, his voice trembling as his gaze shifted to the ground. “It feels like maybe… maybe I did.” He paused, his throat tight. “What if I could’ve stopped it? What if I should’ve done something different? What if—"

Mark’s hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him from his spiral. “*Stop.* You did the best you could. No one could’ve known how it would end. What happened wasn’t your fault, and you can’t carry it, Haechan. Not alone.”

Haechan swallowed hard, his throat aching from the strain of the emotions building inside him. For a moment, he just stood there, staring into the quiet forest, trying to find some kind of peace in Mark’s words, in his presence.

“Come on,” Mark said, his voice cutting through the thick, oppressive silence. “I put most of the supplies over there.” He pointed towards a couple trees. Haechan noticed two backpacks next to it.

Haechan nodded, but the words barely registered. His mind was still reeling from the attack, from the suffocating grip that had almost stolen his life. The night felt too dark, too endless, and the world around them seemed to close in with every step they took. The sun was beginning to rise and Haechan could see it briefly through the trees. It had been a long night.

Mark was already moving, his heavy boots crunching softly through the undergrowth, but Haechan’s gaze lingered on him. It wasn’t until Mark shifted slightly, his posture faltering for just a moment, that Haechan noticed something. The way Mark winced as his weight shifted, the slow drag of his foot when he tried to take another step—it wasn’t just exhaustion.

Something was wrong.

“Haechan,” Mark said, his voice taut now, like he was trying to hide the strain. “We’re almost there.”

But it wasn’t the exhaustion in his voice that made Haechan stop—it was the way Mark’s leg seemed to be giving him trouble. Haechan’s heart jumped.

“Mark,” he called softly, his eyes narrowing as he caught the faint glint of blood along the edge of Mark’s pant leg. “Your leg…” He remembered now how Ian had cut him during the fight.

Mark’s gaze flickered to the wound, his lips thinning into a tight line. “I’m fine,” he said, the words rough, like they were forced out of him. He didn’t have any time to clean or bandage it during the hour Haechan was out. During that time, he carried Haechan towards the woods, grabbed their bags and struggled towards the forest, ignoring the slight pain in his leg. He somehow managed to carry everything but it was very challenging. He had watched as zombies went towards the gas station after they left, glad they got out in time.

When he made it to the forest. He placed Haechan safely on a softer piece of soil and used his jacket as a pillow for the man. Then he placed their supplies a tiny bit further in more of a clearing.

“You’re not fine,” Haechan shot back, his voice sharper now, a note of panic slipping through. He stepped forward, reaching for Mark’s arm to steady him as Mark stumbled slightly, barely catching himself. “You’re hurt.”

Mark opened his mouth to argue, but Haechan was already moving, crouching down in front of him, pressing his hands against Mark’s leg to check for injury. The blood was darker now, already starting to soak through his pants, a jagged gash running from his knee down to his calf. It wasn’t deep enough to be life-threatening, but it was bad—too bad to ignore.

Mark sat down heavily on a nearby log, his breath sharp and uneven as he leaned back against a tree, the weariness in his body suddenly catching up to him. He didn’t protest when Haechan knelt in front of him, his hands moving with practiced urgency as he pulled out the medical supplies they had scavenged earlier. His fingers trembled, whether from the adrenaline still pumping through him or from the fear that gnawed at him, he wasn’t sure.

Mark winced as Haechan carefully lifted his pants leg, exposing the wound. The flesh was torn, jagged, the skin raw and angry where the blade had slashed through. The cut looked dirty, and Haechan grimaced as he pressed a piece of gauze to it, trying to soak up the blood before cleaning it.

“Stay still,” he muttered, more to himself than to Mark. His voice had taken on a desperate edge, a reflection of the fear that gripped his chest. The woods around them felt more suffocating now, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time.

Mark’s eyes fixed on the ground. He wasn’t looking at Haechan, but Haechan could see the strain in his face—the lines that hadn’t been there before, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. He knew Mark was trying to be strong, trying to protect him, but Haechan saw through it.

He reached for the antiseptic, his fingers fumbling slightly as he poured it over the wound, making Mark hiss in pain.

“Sorry,” Haechan said, his voice barely above a whisper, his stomach twisting with guilt. He had no right to feel guilty—not when Mark was the one still standing, the one who had fought to get them both out of the gas station, the one who had pulled him out of the darkness when it seemed like there was no way out. But seeing Mark like this—vulnerable, hurt, and so damn strong even in the face of it—shattered something inside him.

Mark didn’t respond to the apology, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to push through the pain. His hand shot out, gripping Haechan’s shoulder as if he needed something to steady himself.

“I’m fine,” Mark said again, though it sounded less convincing this time.

Haechan didn’t trust him. He worked quickly to clean the wound, his hands steady but urgent. There was no time to dwell on anything else, no time to think about the world crumbling around them. There was only the immediate—only Mark’s injury, only the now.

He wrapped the bandage tightly, securing it with quick, efficient motions. Mark’s leg would heal, but only if they stayed ahead of the storm—only if they kept moving and made it to the protected base.

“Good,” Haechan muttered under his breath as he finished. He pushed back, still on his knees before the man. He was looking up at Mark’s facial expression, checking for pain or discomfort. Mark’s face was still a bit tight, but there was a small flicker of relief in his eyes now that the bleeding had stopped. Haechan was worried he hadn’t bandaged it properly. “Did I do it properly?” He asked as he watched Mark look over the bandage.

“Mmh.” Mark replied. “You did well.” A small smile appeared on Haechan’s face. After watching Mark do up his bandages a bunch of times back at his apartment, he felt he learned a little bit of how to do it.

Mark finally looked at Haechan who was still sitting below him, looking up at his face with a small smile that also held a tinge of worry.

Mark met Haechan’s gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile. There was something in the way Haechan looked up at him, a mix of care and concern that Mark couldn’t quite shake off. It was strange—how Haechan always seemed to make him feel like maybe everything wasn’t so bad, like he could find a way through this mess. But now, with that soft, tentative smile on his face, it hit Mark in a different way.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” Mark said, his voice low, almost teasing, but there was a hint of something else underneath—something warm, but careful. “Don’t.”

Haechan blinked, startled, his smile faltering for a moment. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion, though the tiniest blush coloured his cheeks.

“Like you’re worried about me,” Mark said, his smile pulling into something more genuine, but his eyes were still serious. “It’s cute,” he quickly added, “But you don’t need to. I’m fine.”

Haechan’s heart skipped a beat at the compliment, and he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing deeper. "I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay,” he mumbled, not meeting Mark’s eyes. Of all things, he didn't expect Mark to compliment him so openly.

Mark’s smile softened as he leaned forward slightly, just enough that their faces were closer. “I know,” he said quietly, “but you don’t have to look at me like that. It’s... it’s too much pressure.”

Haechan glanced up at him, his expression staying somewhat the same. "I can’t help it," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. A tiny pout appeared on his face. He was only looking at Mark normally, or he thought so at least.

To Mark however, the way Haechan was looking at him did something to him. Why did he feel so affected by seeing the younger one beneath him looking at him so innocently?

Mark’s gaze darkened a little and Haechan was quick to notice. He couldn’t help blushing at that gaze, unknowingly affecting Mark more.

The fact that they had just barely survived their encounter with Ian and Haechan just woke up from passing out and Mark just got his injury dealt with was forgotten as they remained holding eye contact.

Chapter Text

Haechan was trying to discern the feeling behind Mark’s eyes. No matter how hard he looked, he could only sense one thing. Lust.

Mark looking lustfully down at him was not on his bingo card, but he didn’t mind. He liked it actually. But he didn’t know what to do about it. If now was a time to admit anything, it was that he was very unexperienced with basically everything apart from touching himself, occasionally. But throughout the apocalypse, he didn't really have time for that.

He had felt a bit of a similar tension between them a few times before, but nothing this intense. Nothing that made him feel this turned on. The way Mark was looking at him was doing something to him. It was different than his usual gaze, it was darker.

Was Haechan’s position turning him on? Haechan had many thoughts in his head. He wanted to turn Mark on though, he wanted to be the reason.

Mark broke their eye contact and leaned his head back against the tree, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He seemed to have slightly composed himself.

He was about to stand up to test out his bandaged leg, pushing through their tension, but a hand on his knee stopped him.

“Wait.” Haechan said softly. He looked up at Mark, not wanting him to leave yet. He wasn’t ready for that moment to end. Not yet. His imagination was going crazy and Mark couldn't just leave now, not when Haechan was already in such a state from a simple gaze.

Mark gave him a questioning look, unsure of why Haechan was stopping him. He knew both of them could feel the tension between them, and he noticed the furious blush covering Haechan’s cheeks. The contact of Haechan’s hand on his knee sent shivers through his body. But what did Haechan want to do?

Haechan cutely looked at Mark, not knowing how to say what he wanted. He didn’t want to be too blunt and tell Mark he wanted to suck his dick. Or would he?

Instead he slowly directed Mark’s gaze, having Mark follow his line of vision, towards the man’s crotch. Hoping that Mark would get the message. He gave the man a pleading look.

“Tell me what you want.” Mark said. He was actually very shocked at Haechan’s actions so far. He never would have expected this situation to come about, especially with Haechan. He thought he was just a cute guy who was innocent and all that, but here he was, ogling Mark’s crotch. Mark couldn't deny that he was feeling things too.

Haechan gulped a little before finally managing to say, “I want…” He paused briefly, “I want to suck your dick.” He said with a bit more confidence. There wasn’t really any other way to put it.

Mark froze for a second. He couldn’t believe Haechan actually said it.

Noticing Mark not responding and just having a bit of a blank stare, Haechan continued, “Please, will you let me?” He was getting a bit nervous now. What if he should’ve kept that to himself? What if that's not what Mark wanted?

“Are you sure?” Mark’s voice was low, almost a growl, sending shivers down Haechan’s spine. His demeanor basically completely changed.

Haechan nodded, his eyes wide and filled with anticipation. He could hardly believe this was happening, but the thrill of it made his heart race. “I want to,” he whispered, his voice trembling with excitement and nervousness.

Mark then guided Haechan's hands towards his crotch. Haechan’s breath quickened as his fingers fumbled with the zipper of Mark’s pants. The tension between them was electric, making every touch feel like a spark. Mark’s eyes never left Haechan’s, their gazes locked in a silent exchange of unspoken desires.

Mark’s hand slid down to cup the back of Haechan’s neck, his thumb gently massaging the skin there. “Fuck, Haechan,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between disbelief and arousal. “You really are something else.”

Haechan swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He felt Mark’s grip tighten slightly, guiding him closer. With shaky hands, he pulled down Mark’s boxers, revealing the older boy’s hardened length. The sight made Haechan’s breath hitch, his heart pounding even harder.

Mark’s dick was impressive, standing tall and eager, glistening slightly with pre-cum. Haechan’s eyes darted back up to Mark’s face, seeking reassurance. The older boy’s expression was a mix of lust and control, his eyes burning with intensity. Mark could tell just by Haechan's mannerisms that he had never done this before, not that he minded though.

“Go on,” Mark urged softly, his voice dripping with authority. “Show me what you can do.” Mark had no idea what his words were doing to Haechan.

Taking a deep breath, Haechan leaned in, his lips brushing against the tip of Mark’s dick. The warmth and hardness of it sent a jolt of desire through him, making his nerves tingle. He closed his eyes and took the head into his mouth, feeling the velvety smoothness of the skin against his tongue.

Mark groaned, his fingers digging into Haechan’s hair as he began to move his hips, gently thrusting himself deeper into the younger's mouth. Haechan’s eyes fluttered open, trying to keep up with the rhythm, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked.

“That’s it,” Mark murmured, his voice rough and gravelly. “Show me how bad you want it.” Haechan still didn’t really know what he was doing, but it seemed to be working for now. Mark's voice and words were also doing so much to him. He wasn't expecting that from Mark, but he was not complaining in any way shape or form. He couldn't deny liking the effect of his words.

Haechan’s body responded instantly to the dirty talk, his cock twitching in his own pants as he redoubled his efforts. He bobbed his head up and down, taking more of Mark into his mouth with each swallow, his tongue swirling around the shaft.

“God, you’re good at this,” Mark breathed, his hand tightening in Haechan’s hair. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Haechan moaned around Mark’s dick, the sound vibrating through him and causing Mark to shudder. He was getting lost in the sensation, the pleasure of giving Mark this kind of satisfaction overwhelming him.

Neither of them expected to be doing any of this in the middle of a forest after barely escaping a crazy person during a zombie apocalypse, but here they were, revealing new sides to them.

Suddenly, Mark’s hand clamped down on Haechan’s jaw, forcing him to look up. “Eyes on me, Haechan,” he commanded, his voice cold and sharp. “I want to see you while you do this.” Mark's earlier statements of Mark telling Haechan not to look at him a certain way disappeared from Haechan's mind as he did as Mark said.

Haechan’s heart raced as he met Mark’s gaze, the intensity of it making his entire body flush with heat, his cheeks undoubtedly a bright shade of pink. He nodded, unable to speak, and went back to sucking, this time keeping his eyes open and locked on Mark’s. Mark found the flush of his cheeks to be cute as he watched.

The visual stimulation heightened everything, and Haechan found himself growing even more turned on by the way Mark watched him. He could see the strain in Mark’s eyes, the way his jaw clenched with every thrust, and it made him want to push himself even further.

“You’re doing so well,” Mark praised, his voice softening for a brief moment. “But I want more. Open wider for me, Haechan. Take all of me.”

Haechan swallowed hard, his throat constricting with apprehension. Taking all of Mark seemed like an impossible task, but the challenge excited him. He gripped the base of Mark’s dick with one hand, steadying himself, and then opened his mouth as wide as he could, aiming to take more of the older inside.

He managed to go lower, before gagging slightly. Mark’s hand tightened in his hair, holding him in place.

“Good,” Mark said, his voice laced with approval. “You’re getting better at this. Now, don’t stop.” Haechan did not expect himself to like dirty talk like this, every word turning him on more. He was also surprised at how easily Mark did it, easily got him going, knowing exactly what to say.

Haechan continued to suck, pushing past the discomfort, determined to give Mark the best experience he could. His throat muscles worked to accommodate the intrusion, and he could feel Mark’s dick hitting the back of his throat, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

Mark’s breathing grew heavier at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust more forcefully. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re going to make me cum if you keep that up.”

Haechan’s eyes widened at the realization, his body trembling with the intensity of the moment. He had no idea what to do next, his mind racing with thoughts of pleasing Mark and the lingering fear of not knowing how to handle it when he came. His inexperience was coming back to bite him.

Mark must have sensed his hesitation because he pulled back slightly, giving Haechan a brief respite. “Relax,” he instructed, his voice calm and soothing. A complete switch up from a few moments ago. “Just follow my lead.” His hand lightly caressed the top of his head, ruffling his hair softly.

Haechan nodded, his eyes flickering with gratitude and relief. He watched as Mark adjusted his position, leaning back against the tree once more, his dick still fully exposed and ready.

“Come here,” Mark said, patting his thigh. “I’m going to teach you how to really make a man happy.”

Haechan hesitated for only a moment before crawling closer, positioning himself closer between Mark’s legs. He looked up at him, seeking guidance.

“First,” Mark began, his voice steady and authoritative, “you need to focus on the pleasure. Use your tongue more. Lick up and down the shaft, tease the tip with your lips. Make it feel good for both of us.”

Haechan nodded, eager to please. He glanced down at Mark’s erection, noting the way it throbbed with anticipation. Tentatively, he extended his tongue and licked a stripe from the base to the tip, tasting the salty sweetness of pre-cum. He was surprising himself with his own actions, but he didn’t have time for thoughts like that.

Mark hissed in appreciation, his hand coming down to rest on Haechan’s shoulder. “Yeah, like that,” he encouraged. “Don’t be afraid to get messy.”

Emboldened by the praise, Haechan continued, his tongue circling the head of Mark’s dick, teasing the sensitive underside. He could hear Mark’s breathing grow ragged, his hips bucking slightly in response to the attention.

“Now, take it in your mouth again,” Mark instructed, his voice rougher now. “And use your hand to stroke me at the same time.”

Haechan complied, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around the head, his hand mimicking the motion of his mouth. He could feel the slick slide of his saliva mixing with Mark’s skin, the sensation incredibly arousing.

“Perfect,” Mark groaned, his hand moving to tangle in Haechan’s hair once more. “Keep going. You’re doing so well.”

Haechan’s mind was fuzzed with pleasure, the words of encouragement fueling his determination. He increased the pace, sucking and stroking in tandem, his tongue flicking over the sensitive spot just below the head. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

Mark’s grip on his hair tightened, his other hand reaching down to grip his own thigh, knuckles turning white with strain. “Haechan,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “You’re gonna make me cum, all with that pretty mouth of yours.”

The words sent a thrill through Haechan, making his own cock ache with need. He redoubled his efforts, desperate to bring Mark to the edge. His teeth grazed lightly against the shaft, eliciting a harsh groan from Mark.

“That’s it,” Mark panted, his voice barely controlled. “Tease me, Haechan. Make it feel good.”

Haechan’s heart pounded in his chest, the thrill of the situation overwhelming him. He could feel Mark’s orgasm building, the tension in his body radiating through the air.

“Fuck,” Mark whispered, his voice thick with desperation. “Has anyone ever seen you like this?”

Haechan hummed to indicate no one had, sending vibrations through Mark’s dick.

“Shit.” Mark grunted.

Mark’s hand tightened around Haechan’s hair as he guided the younger's head back and forth along his length. Each motion was deliberate, each breath he took measured and controlled. The cold, calculated precision of Mark’s movements belied the fire that burned beneath the surface.

“Good, Haechan,” Mark murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re doing so well. You’re making me so hard.”

Haechan couldn’t help but moan at the praise, the sound vibrating against Mark’s shaft. He could feel himself getting harder, his own dick straining against the fabric of his pants. The way Mark spoke to him, so authoritative yet tinged with desire, was driving him wild. He never expected this.

“Hyung,” Haechan whispered, barely audible, but Mark heard it. It came out instinctively. His grip on Haechan’s hair tightened even more, causing Haechan to wince slightly, but it only served to heighten his arousal.

“That’s right, call me hyung,” Mark said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You like that, don’t you? You like being under me, obeying me.”

Haechan nodded frantically, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. He had never felt this out of control before, never been so desperate to please someone else. And yet, the thrill of it all was intoxicating. He barely registered what he was doing.

Mark’s other hand reached down to cup Haechan’s chin, tilting his face up until their eyes met. “You’re so good,” he breathed, his thumb brushing over Haechan’s bottom lip. “So eager to please.”

The compliment sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine. He didn’t know why, but hearing Mark praise him made him feel warm inside, like he was doing exactly what he was meant to do.

Haechan’s eyes widened, Mark making his own desire spike. He tightened his grip around Mark’s dick, his mouth moving faster, his tongue working furiously to bring Mark over the edge.

“Fuck, yes,” Mark roared, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably.

Haechan braced himself, his mouth and hand continuing their relentless assault. He could feel Mark’s release building, the older boy’s body tensing in anticipation.

“Open wider,” Mark commanded, his voice a strained whisper. “Take it all.”

Haechan obeyed, opening his mouth as wide as he could, his throat muscles relaxing to accommodate the incoming flood. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, Mark came, his hot seed filling Haechan’s mouth in a rush of ecstasy.

Haechan swallowed reflexively. He kept sucking until Mark’s shudders subsided, his hand slowly releasing its grip on Haechan’s hair.

With a sharp tug, Mark pulled Haechan’s mouth off his cock, leaving a trail of saliva connecting them for a brief moment before it snapped.

“On your knees,” Mark ordered, his voice firm and unrefusable.

Haechan obeyed instantly, shifting position so that he was kneeling back on his knees in front of Mark, his hands resting on his thighs. He looked up at the older, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. What next?

Mark’s gaze softened for a moment as he took in the sight of Haechan kneeling before him, so eager and willing. It turned him on more.

Mark moved closer, his cock now inches from Haechan’s face. “Touch yourself,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He had definitely noticed the erection poking through Haechan’s pants.

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his hands trembling as they moved towards his own erection. He had never touched himself in front of anyone before, and he was feeling nervous. He fumbled with the button of his pants anyway, finally managing to pull them down enough to free his aching cock. He wrapped his fingers around the base, giving it a tentative stroke.

“Not so fast,” Mark admonished, reaching down to still Haechan’s hand. “I want you to take your time. I want you to savour every second.”

Haechan bit his lip, trying to contain the whimper that threatened to escape, but failed. He could feel Mark’s cock pressing against his cheek, the heat of it searing through his skin. He wanted nothing more than to lean in and take it into his mouth again, but he knew better than to do so.

Instead, he focused on his own pleasure, moving his hand slowly up and down his shaft. The friction sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, making his body tremble with need. He could hear the sounds of his own moans filling the air, mingling with Mark’s heavy breathing. Having Mark watch him turned him on even more than he could’ve imagined.

Mark watched him intently, his eyes dark with lust. He reached down and gently pushed Haechan’s hand away, replacing it with his own. His touch was firm and confident, sending jolts of electricity through Haechan’s body.

“Look at me,” Mark demanded, his voice commanding Haechan’s attention. “I want you to watch me while I make you cum.”

Haechan’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto Mark’s intense gaze. The older boy’s hand moved with expert precision, stroking Haechan’s dick in a steady rhythm. Each movement brought Haechan closer to the edge, his breaths coming faster and shallower. Haechan looked pretty fucked out at this point, his gaze a bit hazy from pleasure.

“Hyung,” Haechan gasped, his voice cracking with desperation. “Please…”

Mark’s lips curled into a smirk, knowing exactly how close Haechan was. “Beg me,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Beg me to let you cum.”

Haechan’s mind spun with conflicting emotions—shame, arousal, submission. But the need to obey Mark, to please him, was overwhelming. “Hyung, please,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please let me come…”

Mark’s hand sped up, his strokes becoming more urgent. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you need me.”

Haechan’s whole body trembled, his orgasm building rapidly. “Hyung, I need you,” he cried out, his voice breaking with emotion. “I need you so bad…” all his words came out as needy moans.

Mark’s other hand reached down to pinch Haechan’s nipple through his shirt, eliciting a sharp gasp from the younger boy. He didn’t know he was sensitive there. “Cum for me, Haechan,” Mark ordered, his voice commanding and possessive. “Cum all over my hand.”

Haechan couldn’t hold back any longer. His body tensed, his vision blurring as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. He came hard, his seed shooting onto Mark’s waiting hand, the sensation almost too much to bear.

Mark continued to stroke him through his climax, his touch gentle but insistent. When Haechan finally collapsed forward, spent and panting, Mark caught him, pulling him into a light embrace.

“Good,” Mark whispered into Haechan’s ear, his voice soothing and affectionate. “You did so well.”

Haechan clung to him, his body still trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. He could feel Mark’s heartbeat against his chest, strong and steady, and it gave him a sense of security he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Suddenly, the weight of the situation hit Haechan all at once. His mind, which had been foggy, began to clear steadily, and everything that had just happened rushed back to him in a flood of realization. He couldn't believe it—they had just done that. He had just done all of that.

Haechan never imagined he would reach this point with the guy he’d met barely a month ago, especially since they hadn’t exactly started off on the best terms. His face turned a deeper shade of pink at the thought, and he couldn’t bring himself to look up at Mark just yet.

Chapter Text

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as reality set in. His fingers dug into Mark’s skin, not in desperation, but as if he needed something to anchor himself to, something to ground him in the aftermath of everything. The intensity of the moment, the overwhelming rush of emotions, had been so consuming, but now... now everything felt a bit too much.

He pulled back slightly, looking at Mark's face, searching for something — reassurance, maybe, or an answer to the swirl of confusion clouding his thoughts. His own heart was still thudding in his chest, and it wasn’t just from the physical exertion. The weight of what they’d just shared, the vulnerability, the connection—it felt overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He enjoyed it, like really enjoyed it. And Mark's switch up was stuck in his mind, the words he was saying, the way they made Haechan feel.

Mark's eyes met his, calm and steady but also fondly, and Haechan noticed the slight furrow of his brow, as if he could sense the shift in Haechan’s mood. Mark didn’t say anything right away, but his hand gently cupped the back of Haechan’s neck, thumb brushing over his skin in soft, steady motions. It was the kind of gesture that was comforting and grounding all at once.

Haechan’s voice came out quieter than he intended. "Did we… was that okay?" he asked, the uncertainty creeping into his tone. He hadn’t meant to ask, but the words were already out before he could stop them. He couldn’t believe they’d just done that. He was technically the one who initiated everything.

Mark looked at Haechan with a raised eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He could sense the nervous energy radiating off of Haechan, the younger still trying to make sense of what had just happened, his mind likely in overdrive. It was pretty intense.

Mark’s hand remained on the back of Haechan’s neck, fingers grazing lightly over the warm skin as he leaned in a little closer, his voice low and steady. “Haechan, it’s not that serious,” he said, the teasing tone barely noticeable, but still there, like a gentle nudge. “It’s just us. Nothing to freak out about.”

Haechan blinked, confusion and relief mixing in his expression. “I’m not freaking out,” he muttered, though the shaky breath he let out suggested otherwise. “I just… I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

Mark chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. He could see Haechan’s tension easing, just a little, but he was still holding onto him a bit too tightly, as if letting go would somehow make everything unravel. “Yeah, I get it,” Mark said, his voice warm, teasing but with an undercurrent of affection. “It’s pretty intense, huh? But trust me, you’re not the first to feel that way. It’s normal. You just have to breathe, relax.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, but there was a small, embarrassed smile on his face now. “You’re so... Mark about this,” he teased, trying to act nonchalant, but the nervousness still clung to him. They’d just done something pretty big that basically changed their relationship. What was next?

Mark gave him a sidelong glance, his expression softening. "I am Mark, Haechan. I'm not gonna make a big deal out of this, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine." He paused, then added with a sly grin, “Though, if you’re still worried, I could always show you again… Just to, y'know, make sure you really get it.”

Haechan's eyes widened in mock horror, and he shoved Mark lightly, still flushed. “Shut up, hyung.”

Mark just laughed, smirking at the way Haechan called him, leaning back against the tree with a relaxed smile. “You’re good, Haechan. You've just got to stop overthinking. It’s only gonna mess with your head.”

“I just don’t know what to say.” Haechan said quietly. What was he meant to say after having sucked Mark’s dick and openly enjoyed it. He would never expect himself to do that with a man he met so recently and especially out in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse.

“You were good with your mouth a few minutes ago.” Mark teased, lightening up his mood.

“Mark!” Haechan slapped Mark on the shoulder lightly. But he couldn’t help being thankful that Mark wasn’t making too big a deal of the situation or completely pushing him away. It didn't feel awkward between them, it felt just right.

Mark laughed quietly. Haechan was so cute when flustered, it made him want to keep teasing him.

Haechan’s breath evened out slightly as he looked at Mark, the tension slowly melting away under the steady presence of the older. “I guess you're right," he said, his voice quieter now. "It’s just... it’s a lot to take in." It definitely was a lot to take in. The way everything just happened. How Mark spoke to him, how he handled him, everything. It was overwhelming.

Just the thought of it brought a blush back to Haechan’s cheeks. He just did that, it was real.

Mark reached up, ruffling Haechan’s hair with affection.

“I’ve never done that before,” Haechan said quietly. It was true, that was his first time doing anything with anyone basically. He’d gotten close before, but never done anything serious.

Mark was in the middle of properly zipping his pants when Haechan’s quiet words registered. He paused, his fingers still holding the zipper, his gaze flickering toward Haechan. His heart skipped a beat for a second, not because of the stillness of the moment, but because he hadn’t expected to hear that — not from Haechan.

Mark looked at him, his brow furrowed slightly in surprise. He’d figured that Haechan wasn’t exactly overly experienced when it came to relationships or anything beyond the surface level, especially after what just happened, but the way Haechan had carried himself… Mark had always assumed there was at least someone, some kind of experience he could draw from. He had a certain confidence about him, a playful, cocky attitude that seemed to suggest he had been through at least a little bit of this kind of stuff before. The way he sucked his dick didn't exactly seem like a beginner. Of course he had helped a little, but still.

Mark swallowed, trying to process Haechan’s words. "Wait," he said, his voice lower than usual, his tone almost... careful. "You’re telling me that was your first time?" He raised an eyebrow, his gaze now a little more intense as he watched Haechan, trying to read him, trying to figure out if he was messing with him. But Haechan’s eyes were downcast, his cheeks flushed as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, clearly a little embarrassed.

"Yeah..." Haechan's voice was small, his shoulders a little hunched as he shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, I've... you know, thought about it, and maybe done some stuff alone, but that? That was the first time I’ve ever... like really done anything with someone." He looked up, catching Mark’s gaze, and despite the slight embarrassment on his face, there was an honesty there too, a vulnerability Mark hadn’t expected.

Mark blinked, surprised by the admission. He hadn’t realized just how inexperienced Haechan was. He'd assumed that, like most people their age, Haechan had probably had at least some kind of casual encounter, some past relationship or fling. After all, Haechan was charming and quick-witted, always with that playful confidence. But this… this was different than anything Mark had imagined.

For a moment, Mark didn't know how to respond. He’d had his own share of experiences, sure, but hearing that Haechan was basically a virgin in this sense — in that sense — made him feel both a little protective and strangely responsible. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something in his chest that tugged at the thought that Haechan had trusted him with this first experience.

“Damn,” Mark finally said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. "I didn’t know it was your first time. I mean… I guess I should have, but I just thought—"

“Yeah, I know,” Haechan muttered, cutting him off a little sheepishly, his eyes darting away. "I don’t exactly look like someone who’s... inexperienced, do I?" he joked.

Mark shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "No, you really don’t." He chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension in the air. "I mean, you’re pretty confident, Haechan. You carry yourself like someone who’s been around the block a few times and you don't perform like a beginner. Guess I just... assumed you knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I act like it, but," Haechan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I didn’t. I was, uh, pretty freaked out, honestly. I guess I was just... trying to get through it. And you made it easier, made me want more. I liked it." He glanced up at Mark, his expression a little softer now, his earlier embarrassment fading into something warmer.

Mark could feel his chest tighten a little at that, and he tried not to show it, keeping his tone light. "Well, good to know I didn’t completely mess things up for you," he teased, trying to break the tension. But underneath that teasing, he felt something else stir — something deeper. It wasn’t just about the act itself; it was about Haechan’s trust in him. Even though they still hadn’t known each other for too long, he already trusted him this much? Mark felt proud in a way, he was happy at their growing relationship that he honestly didn’t expect after their first meeting.

"You didn’t," Haechan said, his voice steady now, though there was still that faint hint of warmth in his cheeks. "Honestly, it felt… I don’t know, right? With you. I don’t think I’d have wanted it to be with anyone else, you know?" Haechan admitted.

Mark’s heart gave a small, unexpected lurch. He wasn’t sure why that made him feel so... good. He never felt this way before. Maybe it was because, despite the world around them falling apart, despite everything they were facing, in that moment, Haechan was letting down his guard. Trusting him in ways he didn’t even realize. He felt like he was changing somehow, he never would have reacted like this if it were someone else. Maybe that was it though, it was because it was Haechan that he was so affected. What was going on with him?

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Mark said quietly, offering a small, genuine smile. "I wasn’t trying to make it anything complicated. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

“I am. I mean, I’m great,” Haechan replied quickly, though his voice had softened, his eyes not quite meeting Mark’s. "Just... don’t tell anyone, alright?" he added, a little sheepishly. There wasn’t exactly anyone to tell anyway though.

Mark chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not that cruel, Haechan, what do you think of me?” he said, nudging him lightly with his elbow and putting a hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Besides, there’s no one I could tell anyway.” he laughed.

Haechan let out a breath of relief, finally letting himself relax a little. Mark could tell that Haechan was still processing everything, still trying to come to terms with the intensity of what had just happened, but it seemed like he was starting to feel more at ease. Haechan was pretty surprised at how soft Mark was starting to become. It was completely different to the way he spoke when his dick was in Haechan’s mouth.

The blush came back.

Mark paused for a moment, then added, his voice teasing but with an undercurrent of something deeper: “You know, if you ever want to, you know, do more… I’m here for you, okay?”

Haechan met his gaze then, his expression changing to a smile. "Yeah," he said quietly, a small laugh escaping his lips. "I think I’m good for right now. But... thanks, Mark. For everything."

Mark nodded, his heart settling into an unexpected rhythm as he looked at the younger, feeling a strange sense of pride — pride not just in how they had gotten through everything, but in how Haechan was trusting him with more than just the physical part of their bond. It was a bond that, despite the chaos around them, felt like it was growing in ways neither of them had anticipated. He couldn't believe all of this had transpired with Haechan.

Haechan felt a strange sense of peace settle over him at that—Mark’s simple words, the unspoken promise between them, and the easy camaraderie that had always been there in their friendship. Despite everything, Haechan knew he could trust Mark, in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone else in a long time.

"Okay, okay," Haechan said, his voice quieter now, more at ease. "I’m good. I’ll try to stop freaking out, alright?”

Mark rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright,” he said, his tone still teasing, but with a sense of warmth that made it clear he meant it. “Don’t go having any dirty thoughts, flashbacks.”

Haechan smiled softly, his body relaxing against Mark's once more. Mark was being pretty soft and different to what he expected after their experience, but he was not complaining. He was glad they could joke about it a bit. He actually didn't feel uncomfortable about the situation at all. It was better than anything he could have expected.

For the first time since the moment had passed, Haechan felt like he could breathe again. He had never physically felt so good in his life, even though he had barely just escaped a crazy man who choked him and almost took his life. He was also in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, but he still felt great in that moment.

The forest around them was eerily quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of birds, which, in this new world, felt out of place. The world had changed too drastically for anything to feel quite right anymore.

Haechan leaned against a nearby tree, taking that time to relax. Thinking back on everything that happened in the forest and before that at the gas station.

Mark, too, was in a bit of a rough state, his leg freshly bandaged from the cut he'd gotten earlier. It wasn’t deep, but it would slow him down. Mark tried to hide it, as usual, but Haechan could tell his movements were more deliberate now, as if he was trying not to aggravate it too much. He had gotten up and tried walking some more with the bandage.

“Alright,” Mark said, breaking the silence, his voice quieter than usual, but no less steady. He had that calmness to him that Haechan had come to rely on in the chaos. “We need to clean up before we move. We’ve got to conserve as much energy as we can if we’re gonna make it to the base.” He suddenly became serious again, which made sense since they were in a bit of a dangerous situation. Out in the open with no coverage. Zombies or survivors could find them at any moment, they weren’t exactly being quiet either.

Haechan nodded, his throat dry. "Right. Is there a river? I hear water flow."

"Yeah." Mark started to push himself up from where he sat back down, gritting his teeth a bit as he straightened. "Not far. We can rest there, clean up, and figure out our next move." Mark had looked around the nearby forest area while Haechan had passed out, but was still making sure not to stray too far from Haechan’s unconscious figure.

Haechan followed, his legs a little unsteady, but nothing he couldn’t handle. They moved through the forest slowly, both cautious, knowing that even in a place that felt peaceful, danger could be just around the corner. The last thing they needed was another ambush, but after everything that had happened, they couldn’t afford to relax entirely.

The river came into view, a calm, clear stream that looked almost out of place amidst the ruins of the world. The water flowed gently over the rocks, its soft murmur filling the air, offering a temporary sense of normalcy. Mark led the way, limping slightly, but determined as ever. Haechan caught sight of his cut leg and winced, knowing that Mark was pushing through the pain for him, as always.

As they reached the riverbank, Mark gave him a look, his expression serious. "We’re gonna have to clean up properly." This was the first bigger bank of water they’d encountered to properly clean themselves from all the dirt, blood, and other things… if you know.

Haechan nodded. He didn't need to be told twice. He still felt weak from the encounter earlier, and the thought of getting dirty again made his stomach churn, but they both knew the risks of not taking care of themselves.

They took a moment to strip down, their clothes grimy from days of travel, sweat, and blood — both theirs and the zombies they’d fought off. Haechan winced as the cool air hit his skin, still sore, but he didn’t complain. He followed Mark into the shallow river, the cold water washing over him in quick, chilling waves.

The chill was a shock to his system, but it was refreshing too. He washed off as best as he could, the water rippling around his feet, his tired muscles relaxing for the first time in days. His body ached, but the clean water helped ease some of the tension.

Mark was already kneeling by the riverbank, carefully cleaning himself. Haechan watched him for a moment, his thoughts wandering.

“Does it hurt?” he asked softly, still trying to catch his breath from the earlier fight, eyeing the bandage around his leg.

Mark didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a small grin. “I’ll live,” he said simply, though the effort to downplay it didn’t escape Haechan. “Definitely not as bad as your previous wound.”

Haechan didn’t say anything more, knowing Mark wasn’t one for complaining. They had bigger things to worry about.

Haechan washed his own wounds, carefully scrubbing off the dirt and grime from his arms. The water stung, but it was a good kind of sting — the kind that told him he was still alive. He couldn’t shake the image of those zombies lunging at him, Ian, the terror that had made his heart race. But with Mark here, it wasn’t quite so bad. He trusted him, and right now, that was enough.

“Alright, we’re cleaned up. Let’s rest a bit,” Mark said after a while, his voice low but steady. He sat back on a rock after dressing, his leg stretched out in front of him. Haechan joined him, careful not to jostle Mark’s leg.

The two of them sat there for a moment, just listening to the sound of the water and the rustling leaves. It wasn’t much, but it was peaceful, a rare moment of calm in this brutal new world.

"We should move before dark," Mark said eventually, his tone serious again. "The base is about two days' walk from here, assuming we don’t run into any problems. We’ll need to conserve energy, stick to the trees, avoid open ground." Now that they were in the forest, they could avoid the bigger, more zombie populated streets.

Haechan nodded, leaning back slightly on the rock, his eyes fixed on the sky, which was starting to lighten more. "And if we get attacked again?"

"We fight. And keep moving. We can’t afford to stop for too long," Mark replied, his gaze steady, unflinching.

Haechan’s stomach twisted slightly at the thought. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this."

Mark turned to him, his expression softening for a moment. “You can,” he said simply, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re stronger than you think, Haechan. And you’ve got me. We’re almost there, okay?”

Haechan looked over at him, feeling that strange warmth spread through his chest again, the same feeling he’d gotten earlier. Despite everything — despite the chaos, the fear, the world falling apart — Mark’s presence gave him something to hold on to.

"Yeah," Haechan said, his voice soft but steady. "Together."

Mark gave him a small smile before nodding towards their bags. "We’ve still got a ways to go. Let’s get what we can from the supplies and rest up. We'll move out at noon." It was already early morning at that point, that left a couple hours of resting before setting out again.

Haechan agreed, even if the weight of what lay ahead still lingered. But for now, it was just the two of them, in this small pocket of calm, knowing that as long as they stuck together, they might just have a chance at making it to that base. It was so close now.

Chapter Text

Noon arrived faster than Haechan expected.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, casting a muted golden glow over the forest, Mark and Haechan packed up their small camp, their movements careful but steady. The brief respite had helped clear some of the tension from their bodies, though the underlying sense of urgency still lingered like an unshakable shadow. They both knew that the real danger wasn't just the zombies— it was the uncertainty of the journey ahead, and how quickly everything could unravel. But for now, they focused on the task at hand.

Mark slung his backpack over his shoulder, glancing once more at their makeshift camp. He checked their map, squinting in the daylight, then looked at Haechan.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice calm but purposeful.

Haechan nodded, adjusting the strap of his own bag. "Yeah. Let’s go."

They set off along the edge of the forest, the tall, thick trees offering some cover from the open sky, but also obscuring the path ahead. The air was cool, with a light breeze that made the leaves rustle gently above them. It felt like the calm before a storm, and Haechan couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting something to emerge from the shadows. But nothing did. They could see the gas station fading into the distance.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable; it was a shared understanding. They had been through so much already, and each step forward was another step towards something that felt almost like hope.

While they were resting, Haechan had checked up with their radios and was able to confirm that the nearest base was still in operation, thankfully. They seemed to be doing well too, at least from what Haechan could hear.

“So,” Haechan said, after a long while, trying to break the silence, “what do you think it’s like, at the base? I mean, we’ve been hearing from it for so long, but…” He trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the question.

Mark’s gaze remained forward, but Haechan could see the corner of his mouth twitch upward in a faint, half-smile.

"I think it’s exactly what we need it to be," Mark said quietly, his voice carrying a quiet conviction. "A place where we can breathe again. Where we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders every second. But... no place is perfect. So, we stay vigilant. We help each other. We make it work."

Haechan felt the weight of Mark’s words settle over him, a quiet but firm reminder of their shared responsibility. They weren’t just fighting for survival anymore. They were fighting for a future, even if it was uncertain.

The forest path was narrow and uneven, winding its way through dense underbrush and thick roots that threatened to trip them with every step. But they moved with practiced ease, their steps synchronized, a rhythm they’d developed over time. Mark didn't seem to be limping at all, he also didn't seem to be in any pain which was good. The cut really wasn't that bad at all, it should heal quickly.

At the start of the journey, the atmosphere was relatively peaceful. The sound of birds overhead and the occasional rustle in the trees created a false sense of security. Haechan had to remind himself that this was just the calm before the storm. It wasn’t going to last forever. Anything could attack them at any moment, and with Mark’s injured leg, Haechan would probably have to step in more than he has before.

After a few hours, they took a brief break near a small clearing. Mark pulled out a water bottle, handing it to Haechan, who gratefully took it, draining half of it before passing it back.

Since they collected so many supplies before heading out, they had a lot left. They definitely had enough to suffice a couple more days. With how much progress they were making, they might even see the protected base tomorrow.

They still didn’t know the exact location of the entrance or how to get in, but they would figure it out when the time came. They were going to make it, no matter what.

“Did you ever think it would come to this?” Haechan asked, his voice thoughtful as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The question had been hanging in his mind for a while, and now it slipped out, almost without him realizing it.

Mark seemed to consider the question for a long moment before answering. "No. I thought… I thought we’d figure it out before things got this bad. I thought we'd of found a cure. But I’ve learned to stop asking 'why' and focus on 'how'. How do we survive today? How do we keep going?"

Haechan nodded slowly, understanding the weight of that sentiment. In a world that had turned upside down, the answers to bigger questions didn’t matter as much as the ones that kept them alive.

"How do we stay human, though?" Haechan muttered to himself, more to the air than to Mark. He was aware of how it had become harder over time — harder to hold onto the parts of themselves that made them feel like people instead of animals running on instinct. They’d both been changed by everything that had happened, and it wasn’t always easy to reconcile the person they’d been before with who they were now. He had changed so much in the span of a few months. Since everything started, it has been about three and a half months. Two of those months Haechan spent alone, the rest of the time with Mark. He was so thankful he had Mark with him. Without him he would’ve been dead, or worse, a zombie.

Mark didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, there was only the sound of wind rustling through the trees. Finally, he spoke.

"We fight for each other. We hold onto what’s important — the things that matter. And when it gets hard, we remind ourselves why we’re still here. We have more reasons than our own lives to fight for now."

Haechan glanced at him then, meeting his gaze. Mark’s expression was steady, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something that Haechan couldn’t quite place. It made him feel a little more sure of himself. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe they could still find a way to hold on to that spark, even in a world that felt so broken.

"Yeah," Haechan said, his voice firmer now. "We do it together." He liked the sound of that.

They spent a few more minutes resting before they started moving again. The afternoon wore on, the sun now dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows on the forest floor. As they walked, the landscape began to change. The trees grew taller, more gnarled, their branches stretching out like twisted arms reaching toward the sky. The path became more difficult to navigate, and the air felt heavier, the sense of unease growing as the shadows lengthened.

By the time they reached the edge of a clearing, the evening had started to set in. Mark held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. Haechan paused, looking up at him questioningly.

"We’ll make camp here for the night," Mark said in a low voice, scanning the area. "We’ll take shifts. No fires. Just rest and stay alert."

Haechan nodded, his body aching from the day’s travel, but he trusted Mark’s judgment.

The night settled over the forest like a heavy blanket. It wasn’t complete silence—there were always sounds in the woods: the rustle of leaves in the breeze, distant calls of animals, and the occasional snap of twigs underfoot. But all of it felt unnervingly distant, like the world around them was holding its breath.

Mark adjusted the strap of his pack as he stood at the edge of the camp, his eyes scanning the dark, his senses on high alert.

"You should rest," Mark said quietly, glancing over at Haechan, who was fiddling with his gear, clearly still too wound up to sleep. He could see it in the younger’s eyes—tiredness mixed with the restlessness that came from too many nights spent on edge, too many moments spent listening for sounds of the undead.

Haechan hesitated for a moment, looking over at Mark. His lips parted as if to protest, but he closed them again, the exhaustion on his face finally catching up with him.

"I’ll keep watch," Mark added, as though reading his mind. "You need to sleep."

Haechan opened his mouth again, but this time, no words came out. There was a trust in Mark’s tone, something steady and unshakeable that made him feel like it would be okay to let his guard down, just for a little while.

After a long pause, Haechan nodded slowly. It didn’t really matter who slept first. The weight of his body felt heavier than usual, and he sank down into the ground, curling up to warm himself with his own body heat to lull him into a semblance of comfort.

Mark sat quietly next to him, always watching, always listening. His senses were tuned to every sound, every rustle, every creak in the woods around them. He was alert in a way that Haechan couldn't help but admire, the same way he admired his strength, his unwavering resolve.

As Haechan settled down, he found himself unconsciously shifting, his head tilting to the side. The moonlight danced over Mark’s features, casting his face in sharp contrast—focused, determined, the kind of person who was always ready to act, always ready to protect.

Haechan’s eyelids fluttered shut, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on his chest eased just a little. He allowed himself to drift into a light sleep, the quiet presence of Mark lulling him into a rare moment of peace.

Without realizing it, his head tilted to the side, and before long, it found its way to Mark’s lap. He didn't have the energy to move, and there was a strange comfort in the simple gesture. It felt right, in a way that only made sense when you’d been through everything they had together.

He also didn’t exactly have a pillow in the woods and this option was comfortable.

Mark didn’t move, didn’t react immediately, as Haechan’s head settled against him. He could feel Haechan’s breath slowing, the slight rise and fall of his chest against Mark’s legs. The warmth of Haechan’s body and the weight of his head were a quiet reassurance, a small sliver of normalcy in a world that no longer felt like it had any.

Mark kept his eyes on the shadows, ever watchful, but something in him softened. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself relax, but the presence of Haechan, so close, offered him a strange comfort as well.

The night wore on, and the forest continued its strange song of sounds. Mark’s hand rested lightly on his bat, and his senses remained sharp, always alert. But in that quiet moment, as Haechan slept soundly, his head resting in his lap, Mark felt a fragile but growing sense of hope. Maybe the world around them had crumbled, but this, this right here, was still something worth protecting.

Minutes turned into hours, and Mark didn’t shift. He didn’t need to. Every breath Haechan took was a reminder of why they were here. Why they kept moving. His presence, his trust, the quiet bond they’d built over the last few weeks—it was something Mark had come to rely on more than he would ever admit. He found himself getting distracted by Haechan a couple times in the night, his gaze shifting to him unconsciously. Sometimes to check he was still breathing, sometimes just to look at him.

Mark shifted slightly, careful not to wake Haechan who was still fast asleep, his breathing even. Mark took a moment to just watch him.

Mark’s heart tightened as he gently moved Haechan’s head from his lap, carefully adjusting him so he was lying comfortably on his bag. He didn’t want to wake him, but Haechan would probably kill him if he didn’t get any rest for himself.

Mark took a deep breath, scanning the edge of the camp one more time. Then, his eyes flicked down to Haechan’s peaceful face. He lightly shook Haechan to wake him.

Mark’s hand hovered over Haechan’s shoulder for a moment before he gently shook him, his fingers pressing lightly into his arm. It was a careful motion, not wanting to startle him, but knowing he had to wake him up.

"Haechan," Mark said quietly, his voice low but firm. "Wake up, we need to switch shifts."

Haechan stirred, his face scrunching for a moment, a soft groan escaping his lips as he pulled himself out of the warm haze of sleep. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and for a moment, he just stared up at Mark, blinking as the remnants of sleep clouded his vision.

“Mark?” His voice was hoarse, the kind of sleepiness that only came after a deep rest. He rubbed his eyes, clearly not fully aware of what was going on yet. “Already?”

Mark nodded, offering a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. We need to stay alert, even if it's just for a little while longer. It’s your turn."

Haechan yawned and stretched, wincing slightly as the stiffness from sleeping on the ground caught up with him. He blinked a few more times, trying to push through the fog of sleep. Despite the exhaustion dragging at his limbs, he managed a small, sleepy smile when he realized where he was—still nestled in the warmth of the camp, Mark keeping watch as always.

“Did I… really fall asleep on your lap?” he mumbled, still groggy, remembering the last thing he felt before falling asleep.

Mark’s face flushed a little at the question, but he quickly brushed it off with a nonchalant shrug. "Yeah, you did. You looked like you needed the rest. I didn’t mind."

Haechan let out a soft chuckle, pushing himself up with some difficulty, feeling the stiffness in his back. "Thanks. Sorry about that." He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly self-conscious. “Guess I was more tired than I thought."

“It’s okay,” Mark reassured him, glancing back at the dark woods surrounding them. “You needed it.”

There was a brief pause, and for a moment, the two of them just looked at each other, neither saying anything more, but both understanding the unspoken bond between them. They had gotten through so much together, and the simple act of sharing a moment of rest in the midst of chaos meant more than either of them could put into words.

Haechan finally shook himself awake fully and glanced at Mark, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes, even though Mark was doing his best to hide it. He nodded, pushing himself up and moving to the edge of the camp to take over.

“Alright, alright,” Haechan said with a resigned sigh, though there was no protest in his voice. He knew Mark wouldn’t ask for help unless he really needed it, and Haechan wasn’t going to make him push himself too hard. They had both been through enough, and they both knew what could happen if they let their guard down.

Haechan patted him on the back, a small but appreciative gesture. “Thanks. Get some sleep, okay? You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

“I will. Promise,” Mark said. “But you have to let me sleep on you now.”

Haechan nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Sure.”

As Mark laid down, he quickly managed to fall asleep. After everything they had been through, it made sense for him to fall asleep so fast.

Haechan softly moved some of the hair out of his face, careful not to wake him. He observed the soft look on the man’s face and a cute pout he had in his sleep. Haechan smiled. Of all the things he expected to gain, it wasn’t a loyal partner to fight zombies with. Even more so, he wasn’t expecting to find someone to share intimate moments with, someone who he felt himself falling for at an incredible pace. The realization itself sent shivers down his spine.

He really liked Mark, like a lot. Not just as a friend who he met during the apocalypse though. As something more.

It was crazy to think about, so he didn’t. His eyes quickly began scanning the perimeter again, his senses back to sharp as ever. He had learned long ago not to trust the quiet. The world they lived in wasn’t kind to those who did.

With that, he spent the rest of the night on lookout while Mark slept comfortably with him.

Chapter Text

The sun was just starting to rise when Mark awoke, the soft light filtering through the trees and spilling across the camp, casting faint shadows on the forest floor. He rubbed his eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him, and rolled over on the soft ground. Haechan was already up of course, packing up their gear with methodical efficiency, his movements precise despite the exhaustion still weighing on him.

“Morning,” Mark murmured, sitting up and stretching, wincing slightly as his body complained. It wasn’t the first time they’d woken up sore, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Morning,” Haechan replied with a small nod, giving him a brief smile before returning to his task. “We’ll be in the city by this afternoon right?”

“If we keep up this pace.”

Haechan nodded, though he wasn’t sure if it was optimism or just habit that had Mark sounding so sure. The city had always been their destination—the place that promised safety, supplies, and maybe even a chance to finally rest. But that was before they learned how precarious it was. The base was there, somewhere in the city, but no one had ever told them how to get to it. And the city itself… it wasn’t like the old world. It was a place full of risks, where the infected still roamed, and the military and surviving groups had carved out their own spaces.

They packed up quickly, each of them lost in their thoughts as they moved with quiet precision, both ready to leave the forest behind. The morning air felt fresh, though it couldn’t mask the constant undercurrent of unease that hung in the air.

With their bags secured, they set out again, walking at a steady pace along the forest edge. The trees began to thin as they got closer to the outskirts, and before long, they could see the skeletal remnants of buildings peeking through the horizon, the city sprawled out before them.

They made it.

It was a strange sight—the city was partially intact, but the damage was undeniable. Tall buildings stood like hollow sentinels, their windows shattered or boarded up. The streets, though cleared of most of the wreckage, were eerily quiet. No cars, no bustling crowds—just the remnants of a once-thriving urban center, now a place of survival.

Mark paused at the edge of a broken sidewalk, scanning the horizon. "We need to find the entrance. The base could be anywhere in here, and there’s no way of knowing exactly where it is."

Haechan glanced at him. "You think we’ll just find it by walking through the streets?"

"I hope not," Mark replied dryly. "But unless someone gives us directions, we don’t have a lot of options." His eyes narrowed, looking for any sign of movement, any hint of danger. "Just stay sharp. The last thing we need is to run into a hostile group."

Haechan didn’t need to be reminded. The last few encounters had been nothing but one tense moment after another, and the city promised no fewer dangers.

They kept walking, moving carefully through the deserted streets, staying near the cover of broken buildings and alleyways, trying to avoid being seen.

It was different from their city. They couldn’t hear any occasional grumble of zombies like usual. It was complete silence, almost eerie.

Eventually, it felt like they’d been walking for hours. The city stretched endlessly before them, a labyrinth of crumbling infrastructure and shadows. The more they walked, the more they realized how little they actually knew about where they were headed. Neither of them had ever been to that city before and did not know their way around. Through the radio transmissions they had discovered it was called City 127, but that’s the only information they knew.

They had no maps, no clear direction, and the signs for the base were nonexistent. It wasn’t like they could just stroll up to the front gates—it was a military installation, after all. And it wasn’t like anyone had sent out pamphlets with instructions for survivors on how to get in, though they probably should have left some sort of clues for lonely survivors.

As they neared a large intersection, Haechan’s stomach twisted with anxiety. They had reached the city, but how long would it take for them to find the base?

The emptiness of the city was unnerving, but there was also something else—a feeling of being watched, of being too exposed. He glanced over at Mark, who had slowed to a stop, his body tense as he surveyed the area. Haechan almost walked right into him. He motioned for Haechan to get low, and they both ducked behind the remains of a car.

“Someone’s out there,” Mark murmured, his eyes scanning the edges of the street warrily.

Haechan’s pulse quickened, his hand instinctively going to the grip Mark’s arm. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for any signs of movement. The city had too many hiding spots, too many places for someone to lie in wait.

Then, from behind an overturned dumpster, a figure appeared, moving quickly and silently between the ruins. Mark’s eyes locked onto him, and Haechan’s heart skipped a beat. The person was wearing a faded green uniform, but it was clearly not military. Their movements were cautious, clearly scanning for any signs of danger.

Mark gestured for Haechan to stay low, then moved cautiously towards the corner of the building, his back pressed against the wall. Haechan followed, his footsteps light, trying to keep the sound of their movement to a minimum.

Mark peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as the figure continued to move through the city, clearly unaware of them. Mark waited until the figure moved farther into the street, and then nodded to Haechan. "We follow him," Mark said, his voice a quiet whisper. "Keep your distance, but stay close. This could be our chance to find out where the base is."

Haechan hesitated, the adrenaline kicking in. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one they had right now. They kept their distance, following the figure through the maze of broken buildings, slipping between alleyways and staying just out of sight.

Minutes turned into an hour, and just when they thought they’d lost him, the figure stopped at the base of a large building. There was a moment of stillness before the figure raised a hand and, to Haechan’s surprise, a door slid open in the side of the building. He disappeared inside without a trace, the door closing silently behind him.

Mark’s eyes widened. "That’s it," he said under his breath. "That’s where the base is. We’re close."

Haechan couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope, but it was tempered with caution. They couldn’t be sure this was the right place, or if it was even safe to approach. Mark motioned for him to stay put and moved closer, carefully circling around the building.

As they crept toward the entrance, they noticed movement along the outer edges of the building—two more figures, moving in and out of view. It seemed like a scout perimeter, or perhaps a lookout.

Mark stopped, scanning the area once more. But before they could make their next move, they heard a voice.

“Hey!”

The sound was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the morning. Both Mark and Haechan froze, hearts leaping into their throats. They turned slowly to see two figures emerging from the shadows—two more people in the same green uniforms, their hands raised but not in a gesture of peace.

"Who are you?" one of the figures demanded, his voice gruff but not immediately threatening. The other had his hand on his firearm, but didn’t draw it just yet.

Mark’s mind raced. There was no good way out of this. If they tried to run, they might get shot, or worse. But if they stayed calm, they might be able to talk their way out of it.

"We’re looking for the base," Mark said quickly, his voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline. "We’re not here to cause trouble. We just need help."

The two figures exchanged a quick look, sizing them up. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, and Mark’s heart pounded in his chest, the silence stretching on uncomfortably.

Finally, the first figure nodded. “You’re lucky we found you,” he said, lowering his hand from his gun. “We’ll take you in. But you’d better be ready to explain yourselves when we get there.”

Mark nodded. He glanced at Haechan, who looked as uncertain as he felt. They had no choice.

"Lead the way," Mark said quietly.

The two figures motioned for them to follow, and reluctantly, Mark and Haechan fell in line. As they walked toward the hidden entrance, the weight of their uncertainty shifted. They didn’t know if this was the base, or if it was even a safe place. But for now, it was their only chance.

The two of them walked in between the two men who carefully kept watch of them. Checking for any sudden movements, any signs of infection. They had to be cautious not to compromise the entire base.

And as they crossed the threshold into the building, the door closing behind them with a soft hiss, Mark felt a strange, cautious sense of hope rise within him.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the first step toward a real chance at survival.

—

Inside the building, the dim lights flickered overhead as Mark and Haechan were led down a series of narrow, concrete corridors. The air smelled of dampness, tinged with a faint scent of disinfectant. It was a stark change from the open forest, the fresh scent of pine replaced by the stale odor of human habitation. The two men in green uniforms led the way, exchanging quiet words occasionally but keeping a watchful eye on their two new arrivals.

Haechan read a couple numbers and letters written on the base walls and that was all it took to confirm this was the same base he'd been hearing about on the radios. It was like an identification code. They made it to their destination.

Eventually, they reached a door labeled “Quarantine.” The gruff man who’d spoken earlier turned to them. “First thing’s first: We need to make sure you’re clean.” He gestured for them to step inside, and they entered a small, sterile room with metal benches along the walls and a table piled with medical supplies. Their bags were taken away to be inspected.

“Sit down,” the second guard instructed. A young woman in a white lab coat entered, her eyes scanning over them with practiced detachment.

“Welcome to Base 127,” she said. “My name is Dr. Kim, and I’ll be conducting your tests. Standard procedure for anyone new—don’t worry, it’s just routine.” She pulled on gloves and gestured for Haechan to roll up his sleeve. “I’ll need blood samples to check for any signs of infection.”

Haechan glanced at Mark, who nodded, both of them doing as instructed. The prick of the needle was brief, and after taking a sample from both of them, Dr. Kim moved on to a physical exam. She checked their vitals, took a quick look at any recent injuries. She looked over Mark’s leg wound and she also looked over the scar from Haechan’s stomach wound from a while ago. She also asked about their last known encounters with the infected.

While she was looking over Haechan’s body for cuts and injuries, Mark unconsciously glared intensely at her.

“Stay here,” Dr. Kim said after finishing, a slight rush to her movements, like she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. “I’ll be back with your results shortly. It shouldn’t take long.” She left the room, closing the door behind her with a decisive click.

Mark and Haechan exchanged uneasy glances, the silence of the room pressing down on them as they waited. Minutes felt like hours, but finally, Dr. Kim returned, nodding with a hint of relief. “You’re both clear,” she said. “No signs of infection. You’re free to join the rest of us.”

They let out sighs of relief, and the guards led them down another series of halls, this time filled with the quiet hum of voices and footsteps echoing through the corridors. They passed a mess hall where small groups of survivors sat at metal tables, eating meager meals. A few children ran by, their laughter a rare sound that made Haechan smile. There were even small workstations scattered around—a mechanic working on salvaged equipment, a group huddled over maps and papers.

Their guide noticed their curious looks. “This is where we’ve made a home out of the ruins. We’re all survivors, just like you two. Everyone has a role, and everyone’s expected to pitch in. If you’re able-bodied, you’ll have duties to take on. But first, let’s get you settled.”

They were led to a small room near the back of the base. The door opened to reveal a pair of simple beds and a metal locker along one wall. It was cramped but clean, and the thought of finally having a roof over their heads—even if it was thin concrete—filled them with relief. Somewhere far from the outside world... from the zombies.

The guard handed them a small stack of folded clothes. “These are clean,” he said. “Change out of whatever you’ve got that’s worn or dirty, and drop your stuff at the laundry station down the hall.” He nodded toward a door at the end of the corridor. “The mess hall’s open for another hour, so you can grab food once you’re settled. Tomorrow, you’ll get assigned work.”

As the guards left, Mark sat down on one of the beds, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, looking around. “It’s been… how long since we’ve slept somewhere even close to safe?”

Haechan sat down across from him, nodding. “Feels like forever. And they put us together, which is lucky,” he said with a relieved smile. “Not sure what I would’ve done if they’d split us up.” Mark smiled at that.

They unpacked quietly, each taking in the room, the weight of the journey easing just a little as they settled in. They had gotten their belongings back earlier. They both went to the showers and washed up. It felt great to have a shower after being so dirty for so long, Haechan stayed in the hot water for as long as he could. Mark did the same, also savouring the warm water and the easing of his muscles.

Once changed, they headed to the mess hall, where they each got a bowl of warm soup and a piece of stale bread. It wasn’t much, but to them, it tasted like a feast. Eating those canned foods for so long made them forget the tastes of such bland foods. They found a corner table and ate in silence, occasionally glancing around at the other residents—mostly quiet, tired faces, some showing signs of the scars left by the harsh world outside.

After dinner, the same guard who’d guided them earlier came by and offered them a quick tour. He led them through the various sections of the base—the storage rooms stacked with meager supplies, the infirmary, the shared showers, and finally, the training area where residents practiced hand-to-hand combat and worked with improvised weapons.

“Every morning, new arrivals get tested on their skills,” the guard said. “It’s not just about fighting, either. We need people who can scavenge, fix things, cook... whatever you’re good at, we’ll find a use for it.” The guard seemed nice and was providing them with a lot of information, but it also seemed like he was keeping something out purposefully.

Mark and Haechan nodded, understanding. The base was a delicate ecosystem, one that only survived if everyone contributed. It made sense with their situation.

Haechan and Mark looked around and observed on their own for some time. They noticed that camera's were placed everywhere, their lights shining showing they're working. The only places without cameras were the washrooms and the bedrooms, which Haechan was thankful for. At least they were allowed some privacy here. They'd be provided meals three times a day, a place to sleep, proper bathrooms, and stuff to do in the day.

By the time they returned to their room, exhaustion had fully set in. As they lay down on their beds, the sound of distant footsteps and quiet murmurs fading, Mark glanced over at Haechan.

“We made it here,” he whispered, his voice almost disbelief.

Haechan’s eyes were heavy, but he managed a smile. “Yeah… and maybe, just maybe, this is where we can actually stay.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, they fell asleep in a place where they didn’t have to keep one eye open, the weight of survival lifting just slightly, giving way to the hope that maybe, they’d found a place where they could finally rest.

The next evening, Mark and Haechan sat together in the mess hall, their trays holding bowls of soup and thin slices of bread again. They’d been assigned light duties that day—helping to clean the storage area and taking stock of supplies. After weeks of hard travel, a day of simple work within the base’s walls felt like a relief, though both of them still moved carefully, quietly, taking in the unfamiliar security around them.

The mess hall had cleared out a bit, and they found a quieter corner to eat in. Haechan watched Mark, noticing the way he seemed almost relaxed, his shoulders less tense than usual.

Mark noticed him staring and smiled, his gaze soft. “Feels strange, right? Sitting here without having to worry about where to sleep, what to guard.”

Haechan nodded, his heart fluttering slightly as Mark’s eyes met his. It was moments like this that had always caught him off guard—the rare, unguarded times when Mark seemed to let his walls down just for him. They’d shared countless nights side by side, looking out for each other in silence, but here, they could finally talk without whispering, without a constant alertness hanging between them.

“Yeah,” Haechan replied, glancing around the room before leaning a little closer. “And to think… if we’d kept walking just a bit longer in any other direction, we wouldn’t be here.” He gave a small, playful smile, then added softly, “Feels like it was… meant to be, you know?”

Mark looked down at his soup, his cheeks faintly flushed. For a moment, Haechan thought maybe he’d crossed a line, that maybe he’d been reading too much into the way Mark watched over him, or the times they’d stayed close on cold nights. But then Mark let out a soft laugh.

“You know, I thought I was the only one who felt that way,” Mark murmured. He lifted his gaze, meeting Haechan’s eyes with a rare openness. “When I thought about why we kept going, why we were pushing so hard to make it here… it wasn’t really about survival. It was… you.”

Haechan’s heart raced, his breath catching. It felt surreal, hearing those words, feeling the warmth of Mark’s hand as it drifted across the table to rest over his. The touch was gentle but sure, and he couldn’t help but smile, his hand turning over to entwine their fingers together.

“For me too,” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible, meant for Mark alone. “Every time I thought about where we might end up, I kept thinking, as long as it’s with you…”

Mark’s hand tightened around his, and he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I don’t think I ever realized how much I needed you—until we finally got somewhere safe.”

For a moment, they just sat there, fingers intertwined, their food forgotten as the room seemed to shrink to just the two of them. The world outside still loomed with its threats, but here, for once, they could let down their guard. Haechan gave Mark’s hand a small squeeze, a silent promise in the shared warmth of their touch.

After his first meeting with Mark, Haechan never would have expected to share a moment like this with him. It was unexpected, for Mark to say such sweet and touching things. That's why it affected Haechan so much, a blush forming on his face.

Mark smirked slightly after seeing the blush covering Haechan's cheeks, knowing it was because of him.

Chapter Text

After they finished eating their food, they went back to their shared room.

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single lamp on Mark’s bedside table. The walls were fairly thin, and they could hear the faint whisper of conversation from the neighboring rooms although they couldn’t make out anything specific.

Somehow Mark and Haechan sat on the edge of the same bed. Their breathing is heavy and synchronized. Tension hung thick in the air like a summer storm, almost visible as it stretched between them. On their way back from eating, they had shared some sort of look.

Mark's eyes were now locked onto Haechan's lips, watching them part slightly as he swallowed hard. Haechan's fingers nervously toyed with the hem of his shirt, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel Mark's gaze tracing over his face, down his neck and collar, and then lower, lingering on his thighs which were exposed by the provided base shorts. It sent a shiver down his spine, the intense look.

"Haechan," Mark's voice was low, almost a growl, "you’ve never been with a guy before?" Mark already knew the answer, but he still wanted to make sure, to know for sure.

Haechan shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. His throat had gone dry, and his mouth felt parched, his cheeks pink. He could see the hunger in Mark's eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he took in Haechan's nervous yet eager expression.

"Didn't think so," Mark continued, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "You look too innocent for that. Too pure."

Haechan's cheeks flushed at the words, but there was no mistaking the heat that pooled in his belly. He bit his lip, trying to steady his racing pulse. Mark leaned in closer, their faces inches apart, and Haechan could smell the man’s natural scent. It was intoxicating.

"But you want this, don't you?" Mark's hand moved to cup Haechan's cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. "You want me to fuck you? To make you mine?"

Haechan's breath hitched, and he nodded quickly. He couldn't deny it, even if he wanted to. The thought of Mark inside him, claiming him, made his cock twitch in his pants. Mark smirked, clearly pleased by Haechan's response.

"Good," Mark murmured, his voice a seductive caress. "Now strip for me." Haechan still wasn’t fully used to this big change in Mark’s personality, but he didn’t really mind. He liked it, it just surprised him.

Haechan hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as if the thin walls might somehow witness his shame. But the intensity in Mark's eyes was enough to silence any remaining doubts. With trembling hands, he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing the smooth, tan skin beneath. Mark's gaze never wavered, burning into him with predatory focus. Scanning over his chest and lingering over his pink, perky nipples.

"Faster," Mark urged, his voice laced with impatience. "I want to see all of you."

Haechan obeyed, shucking off his shirt and tossing it aside. Next came his shorts, which he slid down his legs, leaving him standing in nothing but a pair of plain underwear also provided by the base. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but also strangely exhilarated. Mark's eyes raked over him, taking in every inch of his lean frame. He didn’t feel as nervous as he thought he would when stripping down in front of someone else for the first time, or maybe that was just because it was Mark.

"Pretty," Mark said softly, his eyes lingering on Haechan's thighs and then face. "So fucking pretty."

Haechan's blush deepened, but he didn't dare move. Mark stood up, closing the gap between them until they were chest to chest. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Haechan's hip, sending a jolt of electricity through him.

"On your knees," Mark commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. "And take off my pants." Haechan was getting flashbacks to a few days ago in the forest.

Haechan complied without question, dropping to his knees in front of Mark. He fumbled with the button of Mark's pants, his hands shaking with a mix of nerves and excitement. When he finally managed to pull down the zipper, he found himself staring at the outline of Mark's hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.

"Touch it," Mark ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Feel how hard I am for you." Haechan’s heart was beating so fast it was inhuman.

Haechan's fingers trembled as he reached out, hesitating for just a second before brushing against the bulge. Mark let out a low groan, his hips jerking forward slightly. Encouraged, Haechan gripped the waistband of Mark's boxers and pulled them down, freeing his throbbing erection.

"Suck it," Mark demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "Show me how much you want me inside you."

Haechan swallowed hard, his throat constricting as he looked up at Mark. The older man's eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched tight as he waited for Haechan to obey.

Slowly, hesitantly, Haechan wrapped his lips around the head of Mark's cock, tasting the pre-cum that beaded at the tip. He forgot how big Mark actually was since last time.

Mark's hands tangled in Haechan's hair, guiding him down further onto his dick. Haechan moaned around the thick length, the sound vibrating through Mark's cock and making him shudder. Mark's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Haechan's scalp as he thrust his hips forward, driving deeper into Haechan's mouth.

"That's it," Mark grunted, his voice strained with effort. "Take it all. Swallow me whole."

Haechan gagged slightly as Mark pushed deeper. But he didn't pull away, instead opening wider, desperate to please the man above him. Mark's thrusts became more frantic, his pace erratic as he fully fucked Haechan's mouth.

Haechan let him and looked up at Mark, enjoying the way his face too contorted in pleasure, pleasure he was giving him.

"Fuck, you’re good at this, you learned so well," Mark panted, his breath hot against Haechan's ear as he drew back slightly. "But I want more. Get on the bed."

Haechan scrambled to obey, climbing onto the mattress and laying back, his legs parting instinctively. Mark followed him, looming over him with an intensity that made Haechan's heart race. He watched in awe as Mark removed his underwear.

"Ready for your first time?" Mark asked, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through Haechan's bones.

Haechan nodded, his body tense with anticipation. Mark positioned himself between Haechan's spread thighs, his cock nudging at Haechan's entrance. Haechan gasped, his muscles clenching involuntarily as he felt the pressure against his hole. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before.

"Relax," Mark whispered, leaning down to kiss Haechan's trembling lips softly. "Let me in."

The kiss was very helpful in relaxing him. It was their first kiss actually. Mark tasted so good it almost distracted him from everything else. The kiss grew more rough as Mark lightly bit onto Haechan’s lips.

Haechan took a deep breath, willing his body to relax as Mark pushed forward with his fingers first. The initial stretch was painful, causing Haechan to whimper and dig his nails into Mark’s back muscles. He didn’t seem to mind. But as Mark pushed deeper, the pain gave way to a strange, building pleasure. Soon he added another finger, and even a third until he felt Haechan was ready.

Then he pushed his dick inside, with Haechan's verbal consent of course.

A whimper escaped Haechan, his back arching slightly at the sensation. It was much bigger than the man's fingers. It also just felt better overall.

"You're so tight," Mark groaned, his thrusts slow and deliberate. "So fucking tight around me."

Haechan's eyes fluttered closed, his body arching off the bed as the sensation intensified. Mark's cock was larger than anything he'd ever taken before, aka air, and the fullness was overwhelming. But it was also exhilarating, thrilling in a way that left him desperate for more. There was still slight pain but it was slightly fading into something else.

"Mark..." Haechan breathed, his voice weak and pleading. "Please... harder..." He quickly got used to the feeling.

Mark's eyes darkened with desire, and he gave a sharp nod. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Mark surged forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Haechan. Haechan's entire body tensed as he tried to process the overwhelming sensations. Mark's hands pinned him to the bed, his hips snapping back and forth as he began to thrust in earnest.

"That's it," Mark grunted, his voice ragged with exertion. "Like that. Take me deep."

Haechan's vision blurred as the pleasure built, waves of ecstasy crashing over him with each powerful thrust. Mark's dick filled him completely, stretching him in ways he'd never imagined possible. He could feel the heat radiating from Mark's body, the way his muscles flexed with each movement, and it drove him wild.

"You love this, don't you?" Mark taunted, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You love feeling me inside you."

Haechan whimpered, his hips bucking up to meet each thrust. "Yes... yes, Mark... I love it..."

Mark's thrusts grew more frenzied, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the rhythm. Haechan's cries echoed in the small room, his voice breaking as he approached the edge of climax. Mark's hand snaked between their bodies, hands gripping on Haechan’s hips.

Mark's grip on Haechan's hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thighs, probably going to leave bruises later. Haechan whimpers, feeling the sting of Mark's touch, but it only fuels his arousal. Mark leans down, his breath hot against Haechan's ear as he speaks in that deep, commanding voice that sends shivers down Haechan's spine.

Mark continued thrusting into Haechan as the younger came. Haechan was a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him.

"You like that, don't you? Being used like this? Letting me take control?" Mark's words are a low groan, dripping with possessiveness and desire.

Haechan nods eagerly, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lower lip. "Yes, hyung," he whispers, the honorific rolling off his tongue like honey, sweet and submissive. "I love it when you take control." He honestly didn’t expect to like it this much, but here he was.

Mark chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through Haechan's body. "Good," he murmurs, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. "You’re so good for me."

The praise sends a thrill through Haechan, making his heart race. He loves hearing Mark call him names, loves being submissive and obedient to him. It makes him feel alive, wanted, cherished even if it's just for these moments.

Mark continues his relentless pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more urgent. He can feel Haechan's inner walls clenching around him, desperate for more. The sound of their bodies slapping together fills the room, along with Haechan's breathless moans and Mark's grunts of exertion.

Mark's hand snakes around to Haechan's front, finding his sensitive nipple and pinching it hard between his thumb and forefinger. Haechan arches his back, crying out at the sharp pleasure-pain.

"Hyung, please..." Haechan gasps, his voice trembling with need. "Don't stop..."

Mark smirks, knowing exactly what Haechan needs. "Beg for it, then," he orders, his tone brooking no refusal. "Tell me how much you want it."

Haechan's face flushes with embarrassment, but he knows better than to argue. "Please, hyung," he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me... I need you to fuck me harder..."

Mark's cock pulses with approval at Haechan's words. He pulls back slightly before slamming back into Haechan with renewed vigor, making him yelp.

"That's right," Mark growls, his voice rough with arousal. "Take it all. Take every inch of my cock."

Haechan can feel his second orgasm building, rising like a wave inside him. He clutches at the sheets beneath him, his nails leaving indentations in the fabric as he struggles to hold onto his control. But it's too much, too intense. The combination of Mark's dirty talk and his relentless pounding is driving him to the edge.

"Hyung, I'm so close," Haechan pants, his voice breaking. "Please, I need—"

"Cum for me," Mark cuts him off, his voice a harsh command. "Show me how much you love it."

Those words are the final push Haechan needs. His entire body tenses as he comes undone, waves of ecstasy crashing over him. He cries out Mark's name, the sound raw and filled with genuine emotion. Mark begins to lay kisses all over Haechan’s neck and chest, leaving marks everywhere his lips touched.

Mark watches as Haechan's body shudders with release, his muscles quivering and his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He feels a sense of satisfaction seeing the younger man so thoroughly spent by his hands, by his dick.

But he's not done yet. Not by a long shot.

With one final, powerful thrust, Mark follows Haechan over the edge, his own release tearing through him like lightning. He spills himself deep inside Haechan, the sensation of their combined climax nearly bringing him to his knees.

For a few moments, they remain locked together, both breathing heavily as their bodies slowly come down from the high. The air in the room is thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and the faintest hint of musk.

Mark gently withdraws from Haechan, the loss of connection sending a shiver through the younger man. He collapses onto the bed beside Haechan, his chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath.

Haechan rolls over to face Mark, his expression one of pure adoration. "Thank you, hyung," he murmurs, his voice soft and full of gratitude. Mark found it incredibly cute.

Mark smirks, reaching out to trace a finger along Haechan's cheek. "Anytime," he replies, his tone light but still holding that underlying note of dominance. "As long as you remember who's in charge."

Haechan nods fervently, his eyes wide and trusting. "Always, hyung," he promises, his voice firm. "I'll always do whatever you ask."

Mark's smirk turns into a full-blown smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Good," he says simply, leaning in to capture Haechan's lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

As they break apart, Mark's gaze darkens once more. "Now," he begins, his voice laced with anticipation, "let's see just how far we can push those boundaries, shall we?"

Before Haechan can respond, Mark flips them over so that Haechan is now on top, his legs straddling Mark's hips. Haechan looks down at him in confusion, his innocent eyes wide with curiosity and nervous excitement.

"What... what are you doing, hyung?" he asks hesitantly, unsure of where this new twist will lead.

Mark's grin is predatory as he replies, "Taking control in a different way, Haechan. Now, ride me."

Haechan hesitates for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he straddles Mark. The sensation of Mark's once again rock-hard cock pressing against his entrance sends a shiver down his spine. Mark’s piercing eyes lock onto Haechan, their intensity making Haechan’s breath catch in his throat.

"Go on," Mark murmurs, his voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want this."

Haechan takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He slowly lowers himself onto Mark, feeling the head of Mark’s cock slide inside him. A soft gasp escapes his lips as the fullness spreads through him, and he bites his lower lip to stifle any more sounds, throwing his head back in pleasure. Mark watches him intently, a certain gleam in his eyes as he admires Haechan’s vulnerability.

"That’s it, Haechan," Mark whispers, his hand moving to cup Haechan’s face, squeezing his cheek gently. "Look at you, so pretty, so obedient. You’re doing so well."

The praise makes Haechan’s cheeks flush with pleasure and embarrassment. He feels a surge of confidence and begins to move, rocking his hips back and forth as he adjusts to the sensation of Mark’s cock inside him. Each thrust is slow and deliberate, allowing Haechan to savour every inch of Mark’s length filling him.

Mark’s hands trail down from Haechan’s face, tracing the line of his jaw and neck until they reach his shoulders. He grips Haechan’s biceps tightly, holding him in place as he guides him through the rhythm. The dominance in his touch makes Haechan feel both controlled and cherished, a heady mix that only adds to his arousal.

"You like that, don’t you?" Mark teases, his fingers now tweaking Haechan’s sensitive nipples. "You love feeling my dick inside you, stretching you open. Admit it."

Haechan moans, his body arching into the touch as Mark plays with his nipples. The sensation is electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his groin. He nods, unable to form words as he focuses on the delicious sensations flooding his body.

"Good," Mark praises, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So good for me. Take all of me, let me fill you up."

Mark’s dirty talk sends shivers down Haechan’s spine, heightening his arousal to almost unbearable levels. He quickens his pace, riding Mark with increasing urgency, desperate to reach his climax, placing his hands on Mark’s chest steady himself. Mark’s hands roam over Haechan’s body, leaving no part untouched as he explores every curve and contour.

One hand leaves Haechan’s nipple, trailing down his stomach and settling on his erection. Mark’s fingers wrap around it, stroking him in time with Haechan’s movements. The dual stimulation is too much for Haechan to handle, and he cries out, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he nears the edge.

"So close, aren’t you?" Mark growls, his voice thick with arousal. "Don’t hold back. Cum for me."

Those words are enough to push Haechan over the brink. With a guttural moan, he comes hard, his orgasm wracking his body as he clenches around Mark’s cock. The sensation drives Mark to his own release, and he buries his face in Haechan’s neck, biting down lightly as he spills inside him.

As they come down from their shared climax, Mark continues to whisper filthy promises in Haechan’s ear, keeping him on the edge of another orgasm. His hands roam over Haechan’s body, leaving trails of kisses wherever they go. Haechan shivers under the attention, his senses heightened by the mixture of pain and pleasure.

"You’re mine," Mark murmurs, his lips brushing against Haechan’s skin. "Mine to command, mine to fuck whenever I want. Understand?"

Haechan nods, his body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. Mark’s dominance has left him completely spent, yet wanting more. He gazes up at Mark, his eyes filled with adoration and submission.

"Yes, Mark," Haechan whispers, his voice barely audible. "I’m yours."

Of course this was just something said during sex, neither of them really meant it and they both knew that. They were just so carried away and saying whatever came to mind. Neither of them had ever felt so good.

Chapter Text

About a week had passed since Mark and Haechan arrived at the protected base and they were doing pretty well.

They had their daily tasks but all in all they never took too long to accomplish and other than that they just got to explore the base and relax. They didn’t have to think of the threat of zombies or getting infected at all.

They just had a bunch of time to do nothing.

Over the week, they introduced themselves to some of the other people staying at the base. It was peaceful… for some time.

At the end of their first week, they were called in to do another physical test. Checking their physicality, mobility and endurance. Haechan was a bit confused as to why, maybe just checking that they didn’t have long term effects from living out of the base for so long,

However, that was not the case. Along with the physical test, they also did an intellectual test.

While Mark excelled at the physical test, with Haechan still not far behind him, Haechan excelled at the intelligence test.

They were now sitting in a blank, mostly empty room apart from the chairs they were sitting on. They were waiting for the base official to return with their results.

After a couple minutes, the lady returned holding a couple papers. She handed one to Haechan and the other to Mark.

“Haechan, you’re in perfect condition to join our research team here at this base.” The woman said before looking over to Mark. “And you, Mark, will be joining our scouting groups.” So while Haechan would be working on developing a cure or in something similar, Mark would be out fighting zombies and searching on the outside.

Mark raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I don’t have a choice?” He asked.

“No. Our numbers are low and you’re a perfect candidate.” The woman said coldly. “Haechan also doesn’t have a choice. You’ll both be starting your new positions tomorrow.”

This new information meant one thing. They’d be separated.

Mark glanced at Haechan, who was staring down at the paper in his hands. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his knuckles were white from gripping the edges. The quiet tension in the room felt heavier than any zombie-filled night they’d endured together.

“Wait,” Haechan said, finally looking up. “You’re just assigning us without asking? What if we don’t agree? What if we want to stay together?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the frustration he was trying to contain.

The woman’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it grew colder. “This isn’t a negotiation. The survival of this base—and humanity—depends on everyone doing what they’re best suited for. You’ll see each other when schedules allow.” She turned on her heel, her boots echoing sharply as she left the room, leaving them alone with their new realities.

Mark slumped back in his chair, rubbing his face with both hands. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “We’ve been here for a week, and suddenly they own us?”

Haechan didn’t respond immediately. He was still staring at the paper, the words “RESEARCH TEAM” glaring back at him like a taunt.

“They’re not wrong, though,” he said quietly.

Mark froze, his hands lowering as he stared at his friend. “What?”

“They’re not wrong,” Haechan repeated, his tone firmer this time. “You’re strong, fast, and you’ve survived out there longer than most people ever would. And me?” He gestured to himself with a humorless laugh. “I’d probably get eaten the second I stepped outside those walls. But in here? Maybe I can actually do something useful.”

Mark frowned. “Don’t start with that ‘I’m not useful’ crap. You’re the reason we even made it here in one piece. You kept me sane, Haechan. If it weren’t for you, I’d—”

“—be fine,” Haechan interrupted, forcing a smile. “You’ve always been fine, Mark. You’re the hero, remember? You’re the one who jumps in and saves everyone. And now you’ll be doing that for more than just me.”

Mark opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw the look in Haechan’s eyes. There was something there—fear, resignation, maybe even a hint of pride.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” Mark said finally, his voice soft.

“Me neither,” Haechan admitted. He reached out and placed a hand on Mark’s arm. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do, right?”

Mark nodded reluctantly, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. But if they think I’m just gonna sit back and accept this, they’ve got another thing coming.”

Haechan smirked faintly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The room fell into silence again, but this time it wasn’t as heavy. The reality of their separation loomed over them, but for now, they had each other.

Tomorrow, everything will change. But tonight, they were still Mark and Haechan—two survivors who had made it through hell together.

They both got up and walked towards their living quarters. Maybe this was why many people at the base didn’t seem to have roommates.

Mark pushed open the door to their shared room, the metal hinges groaning slightly. He stepped inside, followed closely by Haechan, who tossed the paper onto the small table near the wall.

Mark threw himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as his arms dangled over the sides. Haechan leaned against the table, his hands bracing him as he stared at the floor. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, the weight of the day pressing down on both of them.

“They didn’t even ask,” Mark finally muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was tight with frustration. “They just told us. Like we’re pieces on some chessboard.”

Haechan let out a bitter chuckle. “Welcome to life in a post-apocalyptic military base. I’m surprised it took this long for them to pull the ‘you don’t have a choice’ card.”

Mark sat up, his hands clasping his knees. “I don’t like it, Haechan. I don’t like that they’re splitting us up. We’re a team. We’ve been through too much together to just… be forced into different lives like this.”

Haechan glanced over at him, his expression softer now. “I don’t like it either, Mark. But what are we supposed to do? Fight it? Run away?” He paused, his voice dropping. “We wouldn’t last out there again.”

Mark clenched his fists. “Maybe not. But at least out there, we had a choice. We weren’t… owned.”

Haechan sighed and walked over to sit on the edge of his own bed, facing Mark. “I get it. I really do. But we’re here now, and maybe—just maybe—this is for the best.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “How can you even say that?”

Haechan shrugged, his gaze drifting to the barred window. “Because for once, we’re not just surviving. We’re actually part of something bigger. If I can help find a cure, or even just contribute to something meaningful, maybe it’s worth it.”

“And me?” Mark asked, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What’s meaningful about me running around, risking my life killing zombies and scavenging supplies while you’re safe in a lab?”

Haechan’s head snapped back toward him. “Don’t say that. What you’re doing is just as important—if not more. Do you know how many lives depend on those scavenging runs? How many people wouldn’t survive without what you bring back?”

Mark exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but what if something happens to me out there? What if—”

Haechan interrupted him, his voice firm. “Then I’ll be here, waiting for you. Just like I always have been. And you’ll come back. Just like you always do.”

Mark looked at him, the frustration in his eyes softening into something else—concern, maybe even guilt. “I don’t want to leave you behind, Haechan. I don’t trust this place. I don’t trust them.”

Haechan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t trust them either. But we’re not alone, Mark. We’ve got each other, even if we’re not in the same place all the time. And if things go south… we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Mark let out a reluctant laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You keep saying that, but one of these days, we might not have a plan.”

“Then we’ll make one on the spot,” Haechan said with a smirk. “You’re pretty good at that, remember?”

Mark rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, yeah. I just… I don’t want to lose you, Haechan.”

“You won’t,” Haechan said softly. “We’ve been through too much for that. And besides…” He gave Mark a teasing grin. “Who else is going to put up with you?”

Mark laughed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” Haechan replied, leaning back on his bed.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their new assignments still heavy but not unbearable. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it. Together, if not side by side.

–

The next morning, the base was buzzing with activity. Mark stood near the gates, geared up and ready to head out with the scouting group. His pack was heavy with supplies—extra ammunition, a machete, a few days’ worth of food, and vials for collecting zombie DNA samples.

Compared to the faces of the other scouts who looked cheerful and determined, he looked resentful and cold. Based on their faces, it looked like everyone else chose this path.

Haechan hurried over, his steps quick and purposeful, a faint look of worry on his face. He was holding something small in his hand, keeping it pressed close to his chest.

Mark spotted him and gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You didn’t have to come see me off,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I was going to just sleep in and let you leave without saying anything. Do you even know me?”

Mark chuckled, but the laugh faded quickly as the weight of the moment sank in. Haechan reached him and stopped, his eyes scanning Mark’s face for a long moment before he spoke.

“Look, I don’t trust these people,” Haechan said, lowering his voice so only Mark could hear. “And I don’t trust this whole ‘you’re on your own out there’ mission.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “I’m not on my own. There’s a whole group of us going.”

“Yeah, but when has that ever stopped things from going wrong?” Haechan shot back. He hesitated, then pulled his hand away from his chest, revealing a small, weathered walkie-talkie. “Here. Take this.”

Mark frowned, glancing around nervously. “Aren’t these supposed to stay inside the base?”

“Yeah, well, rules are stupid,” Haechan said, shoving it into Mark’s hand. “I’ve got the other one in my room. If something happens—if you need anything—you call me. I don’t care what time it is or if it gets me in trouble. Got it?”

Mark stared at the walkie-talkie, turning it over in his hands. “Haechan, if they find out I have this…”

“Then you’ll lie,” Haechan said simply, crossing his arms. “You’re good at that when you need to be.”

Mark laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re going to take it,” Haechan said firmly. “I mean it, Mark. I don’t care what they say—this is for us. No matter how far apart we are, we’re still a team.”

Mark nodded slowly, slipping the walkie-talkie into one of the hidden pockets in his jacket. “Thanks, Haechan. For everything.”

“Just don’t make me use it, okay?” Haechan said with a small, forced smile. “Because if I have to call you, it means something went wrong, and I’d really rather not deal with that.”

Mark smirked. “You’re such an optimist.”

“Always,” Haechan said with a wink. Not really always, but it was close enough.

The sharp sound of a whistle interrupted their moment, and both of them turned toward the gate, where the group leader was calling everyone to line up. Mark turned back to Haechan, his expression softening.

“I’ll be back,” Mark said, his voice quiet but certain.

“You better be,” Haechan replied, his voice wavering just slightly.

Mark hesitated for a moment, then pulled Haechan in for a quick kiss. “Take care of yourself in there, okay?” He hugged him briefly.

The kiss was unexpected and Haechan didn’t really have time to process it.

“Same to you,” Haechan said, his voice muffled against Mark’s shoulder.

They pulled away, and Mark gave one last nod before joining the group. As the gates creaked open and the scouting party moved out, Haechan stood there, watching until Mark disappeared into the ruins of the city, his hand reaching up to hover over his lips.

His hand drifted to his own walkie-talkie, hidden in the pocket of his lab coat. Whatever happened out there, Mark would survive, he had to.

–

Haechan’s first day in the lab started with a strict orientation. The research wing was vastly different from the rest of the base—sterile, brightly lit, and unnervingly quiet compared to the hum of activity outside. Scientists in white lab coats bustled about, focused on their work, while Haechan stood near the entrance, feeling slightly out of place.

“Lee Haechan, right?” A man with sharp glasses and a clipboard approached, his tone curt.

“Uh, yeah,” Haechan said, shifting awkwardly.

“Good. Follow me.” The man didn’t wait for a response, turning and weaving through the maze of tables, equipment, and shelves lined with labeled vials. Haechan trailed behind, glancing at everything with a mix of curiosity and unease.

The man stopped at a workstation near the back of the lab. “This is where you’ll start. Today’s task is straightforward—we’ve received samples from the last scouting mission. You’ll analyze them, catalog the data, and compare it with existing records.”

Haechan nodded, trying not to look overwhelmed. “Got it.”

The man’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he handed over a data pad. “And remember, we don’t tolerate mistakes. Every result you produce impacts our work toward a cure. Understood?”

“Crystal clear,” Haechan said, giving a mock salute. The man didn’t seem amused as he walked away.

With a sigh, Haechan sat at the workstation and stared at the equipment laid out before him. Microscopes, petri dishes, centrifuges—tools he’d seen in school but never imagined using in such a high-stakes environment. He really had never done anything like this too seriously and was still in shock that he was assigned with such an important task.

He glanced at the first sample, a small vial filled with murky fluid. “Okay, Haechan,” he muttered to himself. “You’re smart. You can do this. Probably.”

As he worked, the tension began to ease. Despite the pressure, he found himself oddly focused. He labeled and logged data, studied the cellular structures of the infected blood samples, and input his findings into the base’s database. The repetitive tasks gave him something to concentrate on, pulling his mind away from worrying about Mark.

But that didn’t last long.

By midday, a sample arrived with a note attached: “Collected from Sector 12 by team 58.” That was Mark's team.

Haechan froze, his hands trembling slightly as he read the name. Mark hadn’t been gone long, and already his group had encountered an infected.

His eyes darted to the vial, its contents darker and more viscous than the others. He swallowed hard and set it in the centrifuge, his movements slower than before.

As the machine whirred, Haechan leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “You better be okay out there, Mark,” he whispered.

The results came back quickly, and Haechan frowned at the screen. The cells in the sample were more active than any he’d seen so far. Most infected samples showed decaying cellular structures, but this one… it almost looked like it was mutating.

“Haechan,” a voice called, startling him. He turned to see a woman approaching, one of the senior researchers he’d met during orientation.

“Yes?” he asked, trying to mask his nervousness.

“That sample—what did you find?”

Haechan gestured to the screen. “It’s weird. The cells are… I don’t know, alive isn’t the right word, but they’re more active than the others. Like they’re changing.” He didn’t really know how to describe it since he wasn’t exactly a scientist.

The woman’s expression darkened as she peered at the data. “Mutations.”

“Is that bad?”

She gave him a pointed look. “Mutations are always bad. This could mean the virus is adapting.”

Haechan’s stomach sank. “Does this mean the infected are getting… stronger?”

“Possibly,” she said, her tone grim. “We’ll need more samples to confirm. Keep an eye out for anything unusual in the data. Good work.” She walked away, leaving Haechan staring at the screen.

He clenched his jaw, his mind racing. If the virus was mutating, that meant Mark—and everyone else out there—was facing an even greater threat.

His hand drifted to his pocket, where the walkie-talkie was hidden. He wanted to check in with Mark, to make sure he was okay, but he couldn’t risk it. Not yet. It hadn’t even been a full day.

Instead, he took a deep breath and turned back to his work. If this was his role in keeping Mark safe, he would do it—and he wouldn’t mess it up.

Once he had finished everything he was tasked with, he headed back to shower and get changed. He then went to the cafeteria area and ate his meal alone. He didn’t bother socializing with any other survivors and instead stared at the table in silence.

The other people here weren’t all part of the research institute, so were they in another sector or were they just allowed to sit around and do nothing?

He looked around at everyone eating and talking with smiles on their faces, relaxed expressions. No worry or fear in their eyes, careless.

He bit his lip to control his frustration and threw out the remainder of his food. Then he went straight to his bedroom where he threw himself into bed.

A tear streamed down his face.

Although he had acted as if everything was fine earlier, he was actually greatly affected by everything. Mark being taken away, his new job, the mutation, and more. It was so stressful and overwhelming.

Now he didn’t have Mark to blindly rant to or even just have with him. The bed next to his was now empty, for who knows how long. It could be a few days, a week, a month. What if he never came back?

His emotions were all over the place, the tears now unstoppable. He couldn’t stop himself from worrying.

He regretted coming to the base.

Of course it provided a sense of safety, food, and water. But it also took away someone that Haechan thought was more important. It took away his reason for living, his rock. It restricted him, it took away his freedom. He’d rather have to live out there with Mark again than be here alone. But it was too late, he already chose to stay behind, or was assigned too.

Chapter Text

The first day out in the base felt like stepping back into the nightmare Mark and Haechan had barely escaped. The crumbled buildings, the broken glass scattered across streets, and the omnipresent smell of decay were as familiar as they were unsettling.

Mark tightened his grip on his machete, the weight of it comforting in his hand. His group consisted of five other scouts, all experienced but distant. They moved with quiet efficiency, scanning every corner, every shadow, for signs of movement. The base had confiscated his gun when they first arrived and he never got it back. Only the leader of their group had an actual gun which Mark found stupid. They were the most effective weapon and based on what he’s heard, they weren’t exactly running low on guns.

The first zombie they encountered was a lone straggler—a withered husk of what used to be a middle-aged man, its skin stretched tight over jagged bones. It stumbled toward them, its guttural growl echoing in the empty street. It hadn’t even been half a day yet.

Mark stepped forward before anyone else could react. A single swing of his machete sent it collapsing to the ground. He crouched, pulling out one of the vials and carefully extracting a sample of its blood, trying not to think about the stench or the squelch of decaying flesh. He was wearing gloves so his skin was protected.

This was the new routine: kill, collect, and move on.

The days blur together.

Over the next few days, Mark fell into an uneasy rhythm. The city’s dangers were relentless—zombies emerged from alleyways, clawed through broken windows, or even burst from sewer grates.

Mark’s group worked like a machine. They rarely spoke, their communication reduced to terse gestures and nods. He missed the easy banter he used to have with Haechan, the way they could joke even in the worst situations. Here, silence was survival.

Every night, as the group holed up in whatever safe spot they could find—a boarded-up shop, an abandoned office—Mark would sit apart from the others, turning the walkie-talkie over in his hands secretly.

He hadn’t used it yet. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t want to get caught for something not worth it, something not meaning life or death, something unimportant. He had to remember he was not meant to have it with him. The base had barely even returned their walkie-talkie to them after discovering them in their bag checks at the start.

The temptation was always there, though. To hear Haechan’s voice, to know he was okay. But Mark told himself it wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught and possibly never seeing Haechan ever again.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered to himself each night, staring out at the ruined city. “I’ll call him tomorrow.” But tomorrow never came.

The weeks drag on.

By the second week, exhaustion began to set in. They’d ventured farther from the base than Mark had expected, deep into the heart of the city where the infected were more concentrated.

The zombies here weren’t like the ones near the outskirts. These moved faster, their eyes unnervingly bright. Mark noticed the change immediately and found himself working harder to keep up with the group’s pace.

One encounter stood out in his mind.

A pack of zombies had ambushed them in a narrow alley. Mark fought viciously, his machete slicing through rotted flesh while his heartbeat roared in his ears. But these zombies were smarter—they flanked him, their movements eerily coordinated.

He barely managed to escape with a shallow bite mark across his forearm. He cleaned the wound immediately, burning it with alcohol, praying it wasn’t deep enough to infect him. The rest of the group gave him wary looks but said nothing.

He was scared. What if he got infected?

When they finally made it to a temporary safe zone, Mark locked himself in a bathroom, or was locked in by the others. He sat and stared at the walkie-talkie. He wanted to tell Haechan about the bite, about how different the infected were out here. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The others were standing just outside, listening to hear if he was infected.

Instead, he pressed a hand to the tiny scar forming on his arm and whispered, “I’ll be fine. Just a scratch.”

After being locked in the bathroom for a while by the rest of his group, they finally let him out. It had been way longer than needed for the infection to take over, signifying he was safe. It also marked the start of their journey back to the base.

An entire month after leaving the base.

By the end of the fourth week, Mark felt like a shell of himself. His body was bruised and sore, his nerves frayed. Sleep had become a luxury he couldn’t afford. Being in the city with Haechan had been much easier. The two of them were much more careful and strategic compared to the careless and impulsive group he was with now.

The group had collected more samples than anticipated, but at a cost. Two of their members hadn’t made it back. One had been pulled into a horde, her screams echoing long after she disappeared. The other had been bitten and turned during the night, forcing the group to put him down. That could have been him.

Mark was haunted by the faces of the dead, but he kept going. He had to.

The day they finally returned to the base felt surreal. As the gates creaked open, Mark felt a mix of relief and dread. Relief at the sight of safety, and dread at the thought of what might have changed in his absence.

His mind immediately went to Haechan. Had he been okay? Had he heard about the mutations in the zombies? Mark wasn’t sure what scared him more—the idea that Haechan might know everything… or that he might know nothing at all.

As the gates shut behind him, Mark tightened his grip on his pack. It was filled with samples, each one a piece of the nightmare he’d been living.

But more than anything, he carried a single thought: I need to see him.

–

The base was both the same and entirely different from what Mark remembered. People moved with the same tired determination, but there was an edge to the air now—a tension he hadn’t felt when he left. He noticed it in their hurried steps, the nervous glances exchanged in the halls.

Mark followed the scouting leader to the debriefing room, handing over his pack of samples. As the others gave their reports, Mark remained silent, his mind elsewhere.

The moment they were dismissed, Mark didn’t linger. He headed straight for the research wing, ignoring the ache in his muscles and the dirt crusted on his clothes. He needed to find Haechan. The fact the man had not sought him out yet meant he didn’t even know they had returned.

The lab was just as sterile and cold as he remembered, but the atmosphere was buzzing with activity. Scientists hurried between workstations, their conversations low and urgent. Mark scanned the room until his eyes landed on Haechan.

Haechan was hunched over a microscope, his face lit by the harsh glow of the lab lights. His hair was a mess, his lab coat wrinkled, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He looked sad.

Mark hesitated in the doorway, watching him for a moment. Just seeing him—alive, safe—made Mark’s chest tighten with relief.

“Hey,” Mark called softly, stepping inside.

Haechan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as they locked onto Mark. For a moment, he just stared, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he shot up from his chair, crossing the room in a few quick strides.

“Mark!” Haechan’s voice was a mix of shock and relief as he grabbed Mark by the shoulders. “You’re back.”

Mark smiled tiredly. “Yeah, I’m back.”

Haechan’s eyes scanned him, taking in the dirt, the bruises, the exhaustion etched into his face. “You look like hell.”

Mark chuckled, the sound dry. “Feel like it too.”

Without a word, Haechan pulled him into a hug. It was quick but fierce, his arms tightening around Mark like he was afraid to let go. Mark returned the gesture, the tension in his body easing for the first time in weeks.

The other workers in the room gave annoyed glances at the disturbance, which Haechan found disgusting. He threw them a dirty look.

When they pulled apart, Haechan gestured toward an empty chair near his workstation. “Sit down. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Mark obeyed, sinking into the chair with a sigh. “How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Haechan said, his tone sharp. “This lab’s been a mess ever since we started analyzing the samples your team sent back. And now you’re telling me you’ve been out there for a month in that mess?” They were both speaking fairly quietly, since the area wasn't exactly private.

Mark frowned, leaning forward. “What’s going on, Haechan? The zombies out there—they’re different. Faster, smarter. We lost two people because of it.”

Haechan nodded grimly. “We’ve been seeing it in the samples. The virus is mutating, Mark. It’s not just spreading—it’s evolving.”

Mark’s stomach sank. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Haechan said, running a hand through his hair. “The mutations make the infected harder to predict, harder to kill. And if it keeps adapting…” He trailed off, his expression dark.

Mark clenched his fists. “So what are you doing about it?”

“We’re trying to figure out how the mutations work,” Haechan said, his voice growing frustrated. “But it’s slow. Every sample your team brought in helps, but it’s still not enough. And now the higher-ups are talking about pushing us to develop a vaccine instead of a cure. Like we’re supposed to just accept that this thing is permanent.”

Mark stared at him, his chest tightening. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Haechan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Haechan.”

The firmness in Mark’s tone made Haechan look up. Mark’s expression softened as he leaned forward, his voice quieter. “You’re working yourself to death, aren’t you?”

Haechan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Maybe. But what choice do I have? If we don’t figure this out, people are going to keep dying. People like you, Mark.”

Mark reached out, his hand resting on Haechan’s arm. “You’re not doing this alone. I’m back now, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

Haechan looked at him for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. Finally, he nodded. “Together,” he echoed.

The weight in Mark’s chest lifted slightly. For the first time in a month, he felt like he wasn’t carrying everything on his own.

Mark’s time back at the base felt like a blur. Haechan tried to make the most of it—checking in on him constantly, sneaking him extra food from the cafeteria, and forcing him to rest whenever he had the chance.

But they also spent the time doing stuff that was a bit more fun than nothing.

That first night after Mark had returned, showered and gotten settled back into base life, his tired look basically disappeared.

The door clicked shut behind them as they entered their shared room, the sound echoing in the small room that had become their temporary sanctuary. The tension between Mark and Haechan was palpable, a month's worth of pent-up desire simmering just beneath the surface. Neither of them spoke; there was no need. Their eyes met, and in that instant, words became obsolete.

Mark's hands were on Haechan before he could even register the movement. One hand gripped Haechan's chin, forcing his gaze upward while the other tangled itself in the soft strands of Haechan's hair. With a look of hunger, Mark pulled Haechan closer, smashing their lips together in a bruising kiss. It was raw, unfiltered passion, the kind that left no room for anything but each other.

Haechan gasped into the kiss, his body trembling with anticipation. Mark's tongue darted into his mouth, exploring every inch with a possessive fervor that made Haechan's knees weak. He clung to Mark, desperate to anchor himself as the world around them dissolved into heat and desire.

"Missed you," Mark murmured against Haechan's lips, his voice rough with emotion. "God, I missed you so fucking much."

Haechan whimpered, his fingers digging into Mark's shoulders as he tried to pull him even closer. "I missed you too," he managed to gasp out, his breath hitching as Mark's teeth nipped at his lower lip.

Mark's grip tightened, and with a swift motion, he pinned Haechan against the wall. The sudden impact made Haechan's head spin, but Mark didn't give him a chance to recover. He attacked Haechan's neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of fiery kisses down the sensitive skin. Haechan arched into the touch as Mark's hands roamed over his body, mapping out the contours of his form.

One of Mark's hands slid down to cup Haechan's ass, squeezing the firm flesh through the thin material of his jeans. Haechan groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as Mark's thumb brushed over the straining bulge in his pants. "You like that, don't you?" Mark purred, his voice dripping with sensual promise. "You love it when I take control, huh?"

Haechan could only nod, his mind foggy with lust as Mark continued to assault his senses. The older boy's hand moved up to undo the button of Haechan's pants, freeing his erection with a quick tug on the zipper. Haechan bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan as Mark's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him with slow, deliberate movements.

"So hard for me," Mark whispered, his breath hot against Haechan's ear. "You've been thinking about this all month, haven't you? Thinking about how it would feel to be with me again."

Haechan's answer was a strangled cry as Mark's thumb found the sensitive head of his cock, swirling around the slit with practiced ease. "Yes," he panted, his entire body trembling with need. "Fuck, yes, Mark...I want you."

Mark's eyes darkened with satisfaction, and he pulled away slightly, his gaze raking over Haechan's flushed face. "Good," he praised softly, his tone almost tender. "Now, let's get these off, shall we?"

With a flick of his wrist, Mark freed Haechan's cock from his jeans, letting the fabric pool at his ankles. Haechan kicked off his shoes, stepping out of the tangled mess of denim as Mark knelt in front of him. The younger boy's breath hitched as Mark took him into his mouth, his lips closing around the tip with a wet sound. Things were switched this time around.

Haechan's hands flew to Mark's hair, gripping the silky strands as he fought to stay upright. Mark's tongue worked magic, licking and teasing every available inch of his length. Haechan couldn't hold back the cries that tore from his throat, each one more desperate than the last. "Mark, please," he begged, his voice cracking with urgency. "Please, I need more."

Mark pulled off with a pop, his eyes gleaming with dark intent. "What do you need, Haechan?" he asked, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me exactly what you want."

Haechan swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest as he forced the words out. "I want...I want you inside me," he confessed, his cheeks burning with shame and arousal. "Please.” He quickly added.

A feral smile spread across Mark's face, and he rose to his feet, backing Haechan up against the wall once more. "That's it," he murmured, his hands sliding up under Haechan's shirt to pinch and tweak his nipples. "So good for wanting me."

Haechan cried out, his back arching as Mark's fingers twisted the sensitive buds. His cock twitched in response, leaking precum as Mark's touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. "Mark," he whimpered, his legs shaking as he struggled to remain standing. "Please, I can't take much more." He was a lot more pent up than he thought.

Mark finally released his nipples, his hands moving to the waistband of his own pants. With a few quick tugs, he was free of the constraints, his erection springing forth to press against Haechan's thigh. "On the bed," he ordered, his voice saying with no argument. "Now."

Haechan stumbled, his jeans still tangled around his ankles, but Mark caught him and guided him to the bed. He pushed Haechan down onto his back, following him down. Haechan's hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets as Mark hovered over him, his eyes locked onto Haechan.

"Open for me," Mark commanded, his hand wrapping around Haechan's aching cock once more. "Show me how ready you are."

Haechan obeyed, spreading his legs wide as Mark positioned himself between them. The older man's hand moved from Haechan's dick to his entrance, two fingers slipping inside with practiced ease. Haechan gasped, his muscles clenching around the intrusion as Mark scissored his fingers, stretching him open.

"That's it," Mark encouraged, his voice soothing despite the roughness of his actions. "Relax for me, baby. Let me in."

Haechan nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he concentrated on breathing through the discomfort. The nickname helped with that, sending a blush over his face.

"Perfect," Mark praised, adding a third finger to the mix. "So fucking tight for me. You're going to feel so good around me."

Haechan whimpered, his hips lifting off the bed as Mark thrust his fingers in and out, stretching him wider with each pass. His own cock throbbed, begging for release as Mark prepared him. "hyung," he choked out, his voice breaking. "Please...I can't wait any longer."

Mark removed his fingers with a final, gentle swipe, his eyes never leaving Haechan's face. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire. "Watch me as I fuck you."

Haechan whimpered at the words, his body trembling with anticipation. He could feel Mark's cock pressed against his entrance now, the heat of it making him shiver. Mark pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, leaving Haechan feeling empty and exposed. Then, without warning, Mark lined himself up and pushed forward, slowly sinking into Haechan's waiting hole.

The initial penetration was slow, agonizingly so, but once Mark was fully seated inside, he paused, giving Haechan a moment to adjust to the sensation. Haechan's breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he took in the fullness of Mark's cock inside him. It had been so long. It was intense, almost too much, but there was something about the way Mark filled him that made Haechan feel alive in a way he never had before.

"Look at me," Mark commanded, his voice low and demanding.

Haechan opened his eyes, meeting Mark's gaze. There was a fire in those dark eyes, a primal need that mirrored Haechan's own. Mark began to move at Haechan’s signal, pulling out until only the tip remained inside before thrusting back in, deeper this time. Each stroke was deliberate, calculated to drive Haechan wild with ecstasy.

"Ah... Mark..." Haechan moaned, his hands clutching at the sheets beneath him. His body arched up to meet each thrust, his hips moving in sync with Mark's as if they were two parts of a single organism. Both of them had completely forgotten the tiredness they were feeling just earlier that day.

Mark leaned down, his lips brushing against Haechan's neck as he continued to fuck him with relentless precision. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. "You like having my cock inside you?"

Haechan couldn't form words, his mind too consumed by the waves of pleasure coursing through him. Instead, he nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he surrendered completely to the sensations. Mark's hand moved from Haechan's hip to his chest, his thumb finding one of Haechan's nipples and giving it a rough twist.

"Fuck!" Haechan cried out, his back arching off the bed as the pain and pleasure blended into a heady cocktail of sensation. Mark's mouth followed his hand, latching onto the other nipple and sucking hard, his teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.

The dual stimulation was too much for Haechan to handle. His body tensed, his muscles clenching around Mark's cock as he felt himself teetering on the edge of climax. Mark seemed to sense it, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts harder and faster.

"Cum for me, Haechan," Mark whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Let go, baby. I want to watch you fall apart."

Those words were all it took to push Haechan over the edge. With a strangled cry, he came, his release washing over him in a blinding wave of pleasure. His body shuddered, his muscles spasming around Mark's dick as he rode out the orgasm. His body was basically shaking at the intensity.

Mark didn't stop. If anything, he increased his pace, his own release building rapidly. He reached down, wrapping his hand around Haechan's cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The added sensation was enough to send Haechan spiraling again, his second orgasm crashing over him even as he felt Mark's cock twitch inside him.

"Fuck, Haechan," Mark groaned, his voice strained with effort. "So fucking tight..."

With one final, powerful thrust, Mark came. His body went rigid, every muscle locked as he spilled himself deep inside Haechan's willing body. For a long moment, neither of them moved, too lost in the afterglow of their shared climax to do anything but breathe.

Eventually, Mark pulled out, collapsing beside Haechan on the bed. He wrapped an arm around Haechan, pulling him close, their bodies still slick with sweat and other fluids. Haechan rested his head on Mark's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat as they both drifted in a comfortable silence.

"That was... incredible," Haechan said softly, breaking the quiet.

Mark chuckled, running a hand through Haechan's hair. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

-

The days passed too quickly, and soon Mark’s name was back on the roster for another scouting mission.

When the orders came, Haechan didn’t even bother hiding his frustration.

“Are they serious?” he snapped, pacing the small room he shared with Mark. “You’ve been back for, what, six days? And they’re already sending you out again?”

Mark sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed as he laced up his boots. “It’s not like I have a choice, Haechan. You know that.”

“That doesn’t make it any less insane,” Haechan muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He was on the verge of yelling to express his anger.

Mark looked up at him, his expression soft. “I’ll be fine. You’ve got to trust me on that.”

Haechan stopped pacing, his jaw tightening. “It’s not you I don’t trust.”

Mark didn’t respond. He stood and slung his pack over his shoulder, crossing the room to where Haechan stood. “Look, I’ll call you if anything goes wrong, okay? And I’ll be back before you know it.”

Haechan let out a shaky breath. “You better be.”

Mark gave him a small smile before pulling him into a quick hug. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, genius.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan mumbled, his voice muffled against Mark’s shoulder. “You too.”

When Mark left, Haechan stayed rooted in place, staring at the door long after it closed. He hated this feeling—helplessness, like he was stuck in the lab while Mark faced danger at every turn.

But that feeling wouldn’t last for long.

-

Just three days later, something happened.

Haechan was in the middle of running tests on another batch of samples when something unusual happened. He’d been analyzing a particularly active strain of the virus, studying its mutations, when he noticed a peculiar reaction.

One of the chemical compounds he’d added to the sample—a mix that the lab used to track viral activity—did something unexpected. Instead of amplifying the virus, as it usually did, it suppressed it.

Haechan frowned, leaning closer to the microscope. The infected cells were breaking down, almost as if they were being attacked by something.

He quickly repeated the test, this time using a smaller dose of the compound. The results were the same.

“What the hell…” Haechan muttered, his heart racing.

He spent the next several hours redoing the experiment, testing the compound on different strains of the virus. Each time, the results were consistent—the virus couldn’t withstand it.

There was a certain pattern within it that he had seen somewhere before. On a vial of sorts.

Finally, he sat back, staring at his notes in disbelief. This could be it. A breakthrough.

But as the initial rush of excitement faded, a creeping unease settled over him.

He glanced around the lab, his gaze lingering on the other scientists. They were all focused on their own tasks, oblivious to what he’d just discovered.

Haechan’s fingers tightened around his pen. If I tell them about this… what happens next? Obviously it could be revolutionary towards a cure but this base was too ominous. Too mysterious and secretive. Ever since he got to the base and tried to interfere with their radio’s, there was nothing, as though it never existed.

The base wasn’t exactly known for its transparency. The higher-ups had their own agenda, and Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that any cure they developed wouldn’t be shared freely. It would be used as leverage, a tool for control.

And then there was Mark. If the base found out about this breakthrough, they’d push even harder for more samples—sending Mark and the others into even more dangerous situations.

Haechan leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. This discovery could change everything. But if he made the wrong move, it could make things worse.

His hand drifted to the walkie-talkie hidden in his pocket. For a moment, he considered calling Mark, telling him everything. But he stopped himself. Mark was already risking enough—he didn’t need this on his shoulders too, he’d have to wait until he returned.

Haechan took a deep breath, forcing himself to think. ‘I need to figure out my next move carefully. If this really is the key to a cure… then I can’t let the base control it. Not until I know they’ll actually do the right thing.’

For now, he’d keep it to himself. And he’d keep working, quietly, in the background.

Because if there was even a chance he could end this nightmare—and bring Mark home for good—then he wasn’t going to waste it.

–

It was well past midnight when Haechan finally stumbled back to his room. His head was pounding, and the discovery he’d made earlier weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Mark. What would he think if he knew Haechan was sitting on a potential cure, too scared to share it with the base? He hadn’t put any of that information into their system either.

He sighed, collapsing onto his bed. He barely had the energy to change out of his lab coat. The room was dark, silent except for the faint hum of the base’s generators outside. He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.

The walkie-talkie crackled to life.

Haechan’s eyes shot open, his heart pounding. He scrambled for the device hidden under his mattress.

“Hello?” he whispered, holding it close.

There was a brief pause, followed by a voice that made his chest tighten.

“It’s me.” Mark’s voice was low, rough, and filled with exhaustion.

Initially a smile formed on Haechan’s face after hearing the man’s voice but it quickly turned to concern since Mark wasn’t meant to contact Haechan for no reason.

Haechan sat up straight, his grip tightening on the walkie-talkie. “Mark? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, for now,” Mark said. His tone was steady, but Haechan could hear the tension beneath it. “I’m… far out. They sent us farther than before, and things are bad out here. Real bad.”

Haechan swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. “What do you mean? What’s happening?”

Mark hesitated before answering. “The mutations. They’re everywhere, Haechan. These things are faster, stronger. It’s like they’re learning.”

Haechan closed his eyes, the weight of Mark’s words sinking in. “I’ve been seeing it in the lab,” he admitted quietly. “The virus is evolving faster than we thought.”

Mark’s voice softened. “I figured. That’s why I’m calling you. I think I know where we need to go.”

Haechan frowned, his heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean? Where?”

“Do you remember the hospital?” Mark asked. “The one you told me about—the place where this whole thing started.”

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat. Of course, he remembered. The abandoned hospital on the edge of the other city, where he watched the virus affect its first victim. He’d never forget about it.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s where it began,” Mark said. “I’ve been thinking about it for days. If there’s anything left—files, equipment, samples—something that can tell us how this started and what can end it. It might be our best shot.”

Haechan’s grip on the walkie-talkie tightened. His mind raced. It made sense. The hospital had been ground zero for the outbreak. If there were answers anywhere, it would be there.

He suddenly remembered the pattern of the samples he’d examined earlier. He remembered the white vial he saw next to the infectious black one many months ago. The pattern of the sample was drawn on the vial, they were the same.

That was the answer. Everything was clicking together.

“Mark,” Haechan said, his voice sharper now. “I remember something. When I was going through the old hospital months ago, I saw vials. Not just the virus sample, but samples that might have been prototypes for a cure. I can’t be fully sure, but if those vials are still there…”

Mark’s voice crackled through the line, steady but urgent. “You think they could help stop this?”

“I think they could be the key,” Haechan said, nodding to himself even though Mark couldn’t see it. “But the base doesn’t know about them. If we go there, we might find something that changes everything. But there’s no way I’m telling the higher-ups. Not until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Mark hesitated, his voice low. “You really don’t trust them, do you?”

“Not even a little,” Haechan said firmly. “If we tell them, they’ll either send you out to do their dirty work or lock me in the lab and take over. Either way, we lose control, and I’m not risking that. If we’re going to find those vials, we do it together.”

Mark sighed, the sound heavy and resigned. “You’re right. We’ll have to make a plan. But it’s not going to be easy. Escaping the base? That’s a whole different level of risk, Haechan.” There had been a story of a woman who tried escaping the base that they had both heard of through an old man at the base the one week Mark was back. That woman was dragged back and made to not be able to leave. Or at least that was the story being told. The base was more of prison than anything else.

“I know,” Haechan said, his voice steady. “But we don’t have a choice. If those vials are still there, they might be the only chance we have. We can’t let the base use them as a weapon—or worse, keep them hidden to maintain control. Something is off about this place”

There was a long silence on the other end before Mark spoke again. “Alright. We’ll do it. But not now. I’ll be back in a week, maybe less. Once I’m back, we’ll figure out a way to get out of here together. No one else can know.”

“Agreed,” Haechan said. “I’ll start putting together whatever I can on my end—supplies, maps, anything that’ll help. You just stay alive out there, alright?”

Mark let out a dry laugh, though it lacked his usual humour. “I’ll do my best. Just promise me one thing, Haechan.”

“What?”

“Don’t do anything stupid before I get back.”

Haechan smirked faintly, leaning back against the wall. “No promises.”

The static on the line faded, and the room fell silent again. Haechan sat there for a moment, the weight of their plan settling over him.

If they could pull this off, they might finally have a way to end the nightmare. But if they failed…

No. Haechan shook the thought away. Failure wasn’t an option.

For Mark. For everyone. They were going to find those vials, no matter what it took.

Chapter Text

Mark’s return to the base came as quietly as the first time, but the change in him was obvious. His shoulders were tense, his expression hardened, and his exhaustion ran deeper than just physical fatigue. Haechan noticed it the moment Mark stepped into their shared room, slinging his pack onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“You’re back,” Haechan said, relief and worry tangled in his voice. He stood from his desk, pushing aside the notes he’d been reviewing.

“Barely,” Mark muttered, collapsing onto the edge of the bed. “It’s worse out there, Haechan. We’re running out of time.” They had not spoken since Mark first used their walkie-talkies.

Haechan sat beside him, his eyes scanning Mark’s face for more than just physical injuries. He looked drained in a way that went beyond the body—it was in his eyes, the weight of what he’d seen.

“What happened?” Haechan asked, a flash of worry overtaking his features.

Mark let out a sharp breath, rubbing his hands over his face. “The mutations are spreading faster than we thought. These things… they’re not just random anymore. They’re organized. I swear I saw them moving in groups—like they knew where we were going before we got there. They wiped out half the squad I went with. We didn’t even see it coming.”

Haechan’s stomach churned. “And the base? What did they say when you reported it?”

Mark’s laugh was bitter. “Same as always. ‘Keep gathering samples.’ ‘We’ll analyze the data.’ No solutions, no plan, just more orders. They don’t care what happens to us as long as we’re bringing something back for them to dissect.”

Haechan looked away, jaw tight. It wasn’t just Mark’s missions that had soured his view of the base. Over the past week, he’d seen the same cold efficiency in the lab. Promising breakthroughs were ignored if they didn’t fit the higher-ups’ agenda, and scientists who questioned the chain of command were quickly silenced.

“They’re not looking for a cure, Mark,” Haechan said, his voice low.

Mark’s eyes snapped to him. “What do you mean?”

Haechan hesitated but decided there was no point in holding back now. “I overheard some of the senior researchers last week. They don’t care about curing this. They’re focused on containment—on finding a way to use the virus as a weapon or to control what’s left of the population. That’s why I didn’t tell them about what I found.”

Mark’s expression darkened. “You were right not to. If they find out, they’ll twist it into something worse.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, leaning forward. “We need to get out of here, Mark. That hospital is our only real shot. But we can’t just walk out of here. The base keeps track of everything—movements, supplies, people. If they catch wind of what we’re planning, they’ll shut us down before we get anywhere.”

Mark nodded slowly, his mind already working through the problem. “Alright. First things first. We’ll need a way to get past the perimeter. They’ve got guards on every gate and patrols at all hours.”

“Not to mention the tracking chips,” Haechan added, tapping his wrist. “They’ll know the second we leave unless we disable them.” Those were another thing. Something Haechan didn’t even notice at first until he looked over the base provided bracelet that showed they were part of the base.

That was one of the first things that made him more suspicious of the base. The bracelets were given to them when they were assigned their base positions. Haechan initially thought it was just to quickly identify what department a person worked in but when he looked closer, he immediately recognized it as a tracker.

Of course once Haechan found that out, he immediately told Mark. They felt very cautious about where they went now. It was like everything they do is monitored.

Mark frowned. “Can you do that?”

“I think so,” Haechan said. “The chips are basic RFID tech. If I can get my hands on the right tools, I can fry them without setting off any alarms. But we’ll need a distraction—something to keep the base busy while we slip out.” Haechan's technical background was coming into use once again.

Mark leaned back, his gaze distant. “I might be able to help with that. There’s a lot of tension between the scouting teams and the higher-ups right now. If I stir things up a bit, it might buy us some time.”

Haechan gave him a wary look. “Just don’t get yourself thrown in the middle, alright?”

Mark smirked faintly. “I’ll keep it subtle.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the enormity of what they were planning settling over them. Leaving the base wasn’t just dangerous—it was a one-way ticket. If they were caught, there’d be no coming back.

But the alternative was worse. Staying meant living under the base’s control, watching Mark risk his life over and over while the virus continued to spread unchecked. Leaving was their only chance to make a real difference.

Haechan broke the silence. “We’ll need supplies—enough to last us at least a week. Food, water, weapons… maybe a map of the area.” They still had their bags from their original city, but all their supplies were confiscated. They still had the map for that city but not for this new one.

Mark nodded. “I can start gathering some things from the armoury. I’ll keep it small, so it doesn’t raise any red flags.”

“And I’ll work on disabling the chips,” Haechan said. “I’ve got access to the lab equipment, but I’ll need to be careful. If anyone notices what I’m doing…”

“They won’t,” Mark said firmly. “We’ve got this, Haechan.”

Haechan met his gaze, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of hope. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

They spent the rest of the night whispering plans, refining the details until every angle was covered. By the time dawn broke, they were ready to take their first steps toward freedom.

And maybe, just maybe, toward saving the world.

--

The next few days were a whirlwind of preparation and stolen moments. Mark kept his usual routine, heading to the training grounds and armoury while slipping a few extra supplies into his pack at a time: ration bars, weapons, medical kits. Meanwhile, Haechan buried himself in the lab, studying the base’s outdated tech to figure out how to disable their tracking chips without setting off alarms.

Despite their shared determination, the tension between them grew thicker with each passing day. It wasn’t the kind of tension that came from frustration or doubt—it was something unspoken, something that lingered in the quiet moments when their eyes met a little too long.

On the third night of planning, Mark came back to their room earlier than usual. Haechan was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a tangle of wires and circuit boards spread out in front of him.

“You’ve been at that for hours,” Mark said, closing the door softly behind him. “Take a break before your brain fries instead of the trackers.”

“I’m close,” Haechan murmured, not looking up. “If I can just figure out the power output ratio, I can—”

“Haechan,” Mark interrupted, his voice softer now.

Haechan paused, finally glancing up. Mark stood by the door, his jacket slung over one shoulder, his hair slightly damp from the shower he just took. There was a quiet intensity in his eyes, the kind that always made Haechan’s chest tighten.

“You need to rest,” Mark said, stepping closer. “We both do. We can’t afford to burn out before we even leave.”

Haechan hesitated, then sighed, setting down the circuit board. “Fine. But only because you’re right, as usual.”

Mark smirked, pulling up the chair from the desk and sitting across from him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Haechan rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. For a moment, the weight of their plan, of the danger waiting for them outside the base, seemed to fade.

Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know… we don’t have to do this.”

Haechan frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we could stay,” Mark said, his tone cautious. “I hate this place, but at least we’re safe here. At least you’re safe.”

Haechan shook his head. “Safe isn’t good enough, Mark. Not when there’s a chance we can stop this.”

Mark studied him for a moment, his gaze softening. “You’re always so sure, aren’t you? Even when everything’s falling apart.”

Haechan looked away, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not sure. Not about everything. But I know I can’t let you keep going out there alone, risking your life while I’m stuck in a lab doing nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing,” Mark said, his voice firm. They had already gone over this a while ago. “You’re the reason I even have hope. You’re the reason any of this feels possible.”

Haechan’s breath caught, his eyes meeting Mark’s. The room felt smaller somehow, the air heavier.

“Mark…”

Mark stood abruptly, pacing a few steps before turning back to face him. “Look, I know this isn’t the time, but I can’t keep pretending like I don’t—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I care about you, Haechan. More than I should. And I don’t know if it’s fair to say that now, with everything going on, but I need you to know.”

Haechan stared at him, stunned. For once, his quick wit failed him.

Of course the two of them had shared many experiences together and there was clearly something between them, but they still had not admitted it out loud so openly. So honestly.

The fact that Mark had said it first was surprising to Haechan.

“I…” He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I care about you too, Mark. More than I want to admit, sometimes. But that’s why we have to do this. If we don’t try—if we don’t fight for something better—then what’s the point of any of it?”

Mark’s shoulders relaxed slightly, a faint smile curving his lips. He stepped closer, sitting on the edge of Haechan’s bed. “You’re right. As usual.” Mark was very happy to hear that Haechan felt the same way as him. It was reassuring, it was everything he needed to hear.

Haechan laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension. “I like hearing that.”

For a moment, they just sat there, the silence between them warm instead of heavy. Then, without thinking, Mark reached out, brushing his fingers against Haechan’s hand.
Haechan didn’t pull away. Instead, he turned his hand over, letting Mark’s fingers intertwine with his.

“We’re going to get through this,” Mark said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

“Together,” Haechan replied, squeezing his hand.

Mark nodded, his thumb brushing over Haechan’s knuckles. “Together.”

Mark leaned in slowly, taking his other hand and resting it onto Haechan’s face. With a deep breath, his lips connected with Haechan’s. It wasn't their usual passionate and rougher kiss, but it was soft and gentle. It was nothing more, nothing less, just a soft and comforting kiss. Something they felt they both needed in such a stressful situation.

That night, they both slept a little easier, knowing they weren’t facing the darkness alone.

—

The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and stolen moments, the weight of their plan settling heavier on their shoulders with each passing hour. Mark and Haechan worked in tandem, every action deliberate, every word carefully chosen when they were in public.

The risk of being discovered hung over them like a storm cloud, but their resolve never wavered. They were lucky Mark wasn’t put on the roster to scout again yet. That would have hindered their plan greatly.

Soon enough, the night before their escape arrived.

Haechan sat at his desk, carefully packing the few supplies he’d managed to scrounge from the lab without drawing attention. He’d stuffed the bag with syringes, vials, antiseptics, and other tools they might need if they found the prototypes—or if they ran into trouble. They may not even be prototypes, they could be fully flushed cures or vaccines.

The chance of them being cures were very low. The fact that the zombies were technically dead and literally rotting was evidence enough that they wouldn’t really be able to recover from that. However, a vaccine would be amazing to prevent anyone else from turning. Then, they’d just have to fight off the remainder of zombies until there were none left in the world.

Mark, on the other hand, was laying out their escape route on the floor. A stolen map of the city was spread out in front of him, dotted with the notes and markers he’d made over the past week.

“We leave just before dawn,” Mark said, his voice low. “That’s when the guards change shifts. It’ll give us a five-minute window to get past the perimeter without being seen.”

Haechan nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “And the tracking chips? I can’t disable them until we’re out of the base. Too much risk of someone noticing.”

Mark frowned but didn’t argue. “Alright. Once we’re clear, we’ll find a safe spot and take care of it.”

Haechan turned back to his pack, his hands shaking slightly as he zipped it closed. He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“You okay?” Mark asked, watching him closely.

Haechan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over to where Mark was kneeling and sat down beside him. “I just… I keep thinking about what happens if this goes wrong. If they catch us—”

“They won’t,” Mark interrupted, his voice firm. He reached out, resting a hand on Haechan’s thigh. “We’ve got this, Haechan. You’ve thought of everything. And even if something does go wrong, I won’t let them touch you. I promise.”

Haechan looked down at Mark’s hand, then up at his face. There was a fire in Mark’s eyes, the kind that made Haechan believe they really could pull this off.

“I trust you,” Haechan said softly.

Mark’s hand slid down, finding Haechan’s again. Their fingers intertwined naturally, the touch grounding them both.

“Good,” Mark said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No turning back now.”

Before bed, they ran through the plan one last time.

Mark would leave first, under the guise of an early morning training session. Haechan would follow twenty minutes later, using his lab clearance as an excuse to access one of the lesser-guarded exits.

They’d meet at the edge of the perimeter, where a gap in the fencing—hidden beneath a pile of debris—would be their way out. From there, they’d head to the outskirts of the city until they reached the edge. From there they’d make their way back to the original city, called NCity. Then they’d need to traverse that city again and make their way towards the hospital.

“2-3 weeks on foot,” Mark said, leaning back against the wall. “That’s going to be rough.” That should be the time it takes them to fully reach the hospital since it was on the opposite side of the city they came from.

Haechan shrugged. “Better than getting caught.”

Mark chuckled. “True.”

They shared a brief, tense silence before Haechan spoke again. “Mark… if something happens—if we get separated or—”

“Stop,” Mark said firmly. “Nothing’s going to happen. We’re getting out of here, and we’re doing it together.”

Haechan hesitated but nodded. He was just feeling very paranoid. He felt more scared of the base than the zombies at that moment.

Mark reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of Haechan’s face. “We’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Haechan leaned into his touch for just a moment before pulling away. “You’d better. I’m holding you to that.”

Mark grinned. “You’re stubborn. I like that about you.”

Haechan smirked. “You’d better. It’s not changing.”

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing slightly. But as the night wore on, their determination solidified.

Tomorrow, they’d leave the base for good. Together. No matter what it took.

Chapter Text

The base was eerily quiet in the early morning hours. The faint hum of machinery and the distant shuffle of guards on patrol were the only sounds cutting through the stillness.

Mark adjusted his pack, slinging it securely over his shoulders as he left the room. His boots made soft thuds against the concrete floor, but he kept his pace steady, casual—just another soldier heading to an early training session.

He didn’t look back at Haechan, still pretending to sleep in their room. They’d agreed it was safer that way, less suspicious if someone was watching.

Mark slipped past the barracks and into the outer yard, his breath visible in the cold morning air. The gates were still locked, but he didn’t need them. The hidden gap in the perimeter wasn’t far, and he trusted Haechan to meet him there.

He reached the pile of debris and crouched, his fingers brushing aside the loose branches and rubble covering the fence. The opening was just big enough for them to squeeze through.

Mark took a deep breath, his pulse steady but quickening as he slid through the gap. He crouched low on the other side, scanning the area. No movement, no alarms.

So far, so good.

Now comes the hardest part: waiting.

Haechan had sat up the moment Mark left, his heart pounding. He had twenty minutes to follow, but every second felt like an eternity. He busied himself checking his pack one last time, ensuring he had everything they needed.

When the time finally came, he slipped on his jacket and slung the bag over his shoulder. He’d worn his lab ID badge, knowing it would get him through the first set of locked doors without raising suspicion.

As he walked down the hall, his mind raced with everything that could go wrong, but he forced himself to stay calm, keeping a plain expression that his his nerves well.

He passed two guards near the labs, nodding to them as he continued toward the west wing. His clearance gave him access to this area, so they didn’t question him.

When he reached the lesser-guarded exit, he hesitated for a moment before swiping his badge. The door clicked open, and he stepped outside, the cool morning air hitting him like a shock.

He kept moving, slipping toward the debris pile where Mark would be waiting.

When he saw Mark crouched near the fence, his heart leapt. They’d made it this far.

“You’re late,” Mark teased in a whisper as Haechan approached.

“Had to look convincing,” Haechan replied, crouching beside him.

Mark grinned and helped him move the rest of the branches aside. “Ready?”

Haechan nodded, his jaw set. “Let’s go.”

The fresh air felt good against Haechan’s skin. He hadn’t been outside since the first week they arrived at the base since he was stuck inside doing research.

Together, they slid through the gap, emerging on the other side of the fence. The open world stretched before them, silent and vast, with the faint light of dawn breaking over the horizon.

For the first time in months, they were free.

They moved quickly, sticking to the shadows as they navigated the outskirts of the city. Mark led the way, his scouting experience keeping them out of sight of any potential threats.

Haechan followed closely, his mind whirring with calculations and possibilities. He recognized some parts of the city from when they first arrived about two months ago.

By the time the sun fully rose, they were well beyond the base’s perimeter. They stopped briefly to catch their breath, crouching behind a crumbling wall.

Mark handed Haechan a small bottle, his voice low. “How are you holding up?”

Haechan took a sip of water, nodding. “I’m fine. Better now that we’re out.”

Mark smiled faintly, his gaze soft. “I told you we’d make it.”

Haechan met his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not bad at this whole survival thing.”

“Not bad?” Mark scoffed, feigning offense.

Haechan chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in the air. It felt good, it just being the two of them against the rest of the world.

For a moment, they just sat there, side by side, the weight of their escape starting to lift.

Then Mark leaned in, his voice softer. “We’re going to do this, Haechan. We’re going to find those vials, and we’re going to end this thing. For real this time.”

Haechan nodded, his resolve solid. “Yes, we will.” Mark had been awfully inspirational recently. Much different from Haechan's first impression of him.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, the sun was high in the sky. They’d managed to avoid any patrols or stray zombies, but the tension hadn’t eased. The base might have already noticed their absence, and their trackers were still active.

Haechan crouched under the shade of a crumbling billboard at the city’s edge, pulling his pack off his shoulders. “We need to do it here,” he said, glancing around to make sure the area was clear.

Mark nodded, dropping his own pack and kneeling beside him. “How long will it take?”

“Not long,” Haechan replied, pulling out a small, modified device he’d pieced together back at the base. “But it’s going to hurt. The chips are embedded under the skin.” Their bracelets had a small part that had latched to their skin after a couple weeks at the base. Once it detached, the small tracking box on it had disappeared. Beneath their skin. It was quite gross actually, Haechan nor Mark could feel it happening until it was too late. They weren’t really paying attention to their bracelets when it happened.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You could’ve led with that.” Mark didn’t even know it was inside him. He had thought it was on the bracelet until that point.

Haechan shot him a dry look. “Would it have made a difference?” He’d not told him to not freak him out.

Mark smirked. “Not really. Let’s get it over with.”

Haechan pulled out a sterilized scalpel and a small pair of forceps. “Roll up your sleeve.”

Mark did as he was told, offering his arm without hesitation. “You’ve done this before, right?”

“Once,” Haechan said, focusing on his work. “On a dummy in the lab. But hey, I got a 95% success rate.”

Mark snorted. “Great. Love those odds.”

The procedure was quick but painful. Haechan made a small incision just above Mark’s wrist, deftly extracting the tiny chip embedded under the skin while avoiding any vital veins. He quickly dropped it into a small metal case and sealed the wound with some quick stitches. After watching Mark do his all that time ago, he managed to do a pretty good job. Mark seemed impressed. Haechan also had trained in stitches at the base since the scouters often got injured and the research team were also like the doctors.

“Your turn,” Haechan said, flexing his fingers as he passed the scalpel to Mark.

Mark frowned. “You trust me to do this?”

“I’d trust you to do anything.” Haechan said seriously. “You’ve dealt with a much larger wound of mine before we got to know each other, so it’d be weird if I didn’t trust you.”

Mark rolled his eyes but took the scalpel, his movements surprisingly steady as he mirrored Haechan’s earlier actions. Despite his lack of proper medical training, he managed to remove the chip without much trouble, sealing Haechan’s wound with care, just like old times.

They buried the chips in the dirt after Haechan did his best to fry them with his makeshift device. They then scattered debris over the area to hide any trace of them. That would be their last traceable location.

Haechan flexed his fingers, wincing slightly. “Let’s hope that buys us enough time before they realize we’re not where we’re supposed to be.”

Mark slung his pack over his shoulder. “It will. Now let’s move. The forest edge isn’t far.”

By late afternoon, they reached the edge of the city, where the cracked pavement gave way to a dense line of trees. The forest stretched out like a green wall, quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Haechan was getting Deja vu.

“This should keep us off anyone’s radar,” Mark said, scanning the treeline. “No patrols, no drones. Just nature, like last time.”

“And probably some wild zombies,” Haechan muttered, adjusting his pack.

Mark grinned. “What, you scared?”

“They could’ve migrated into the forests. They aren’t stupid anymore.” Haechan added. He hadn’t dealt with the mutated zombies yet so he didn’t know exactly how bad it was.

Mark chuckled, leading the way into the forest. Mark knew how bad it was, but didn’t want to scare Haechan further. He knew that when it came to it, they would do whatever they could to protect one another.

The air grew cooler under the canopy, the sunlight filtering through in dappled patches. It was a stark contrast to the barren cityscape they’d left behind.

They followed a narrow trail, their pace steady but cautious. Every so often, Mark would stop to check their surroundings, his hand instinctively resting on the knife at his hip. That was one of the weapons he snagged before they left. Haechan had an identical one on his own hip. Mark also managed to steal a gun as he was leaving in the morning. It was risky but it was worth it.

Haechan walked a few steps behind, his mind racing with thoughts of the hospital, the vials, and the risks they were taking.

“You okay back there?” Mark asked over his shoulder quietly.

“Yeah,” Haechan said quickly, forcing his focus back to the present.

Mark slowed until he was walking beside him. “We’ll make it,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just two days to NCity, then we’ll figure out the rest.”

Haechan nodded, his resolve hardening. “I know. Let’s keep moving.”

The forest provided them with cover and relative safety, but the journey was far from easy. They rationed their supplies carefully, knowing it could be days before they found another safe place to restock. By now, the other city could be completely empty of food.

At night, they set up a small camp, taking turns keeping watch. The first night, Haechan found himself staring at Mark across from him, the faint glow of the moon highlighting the sharp angles of his face. They couldn't enjoy the luxuries of making a fire in case the zombies came. Or people.

“You should sleep,” Mark said, not looking up.

“Could say the same to you,” Haechan replied. He was remembering the old times when they had similar conversations. He never imagined they would be back in the forest, but running away from the base this time.

Mark smirked, finally meeting his gaze. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Of course. You should be used to it by now”

Mark chuckled, leaning back against a fallen log. “Oh, I am.”

The second day was tougher, the terrain growing rougher as they moved closer to the city limits. The air grew heavier, tinged with the faint scent of decay as the forest gave way to the outskirts of the next city.

They saw their old camp location, they saw the highway, they saw the gas station.

By the time they reached the edge of the city that evening, they were exhausted but determined.

Mark crouched behind a rusted car, scanning the crumbling skyline. “This is it,” he said, his voice low. “Two more weeks, and we’ll be at the hospital.”

Haechan knelt beside him, his eyes narrowing as he took in the view. The city stretched out before them, silent and foreboding, with the hospital looming in the distance like a grim promise.

“We’ll need to stick to the outskirts,” Haechan said. “Avoid the main roads. It’ll take longer, but it’s safer.”

Mark nodded, his jaw set. “Then that’s what we’ll do. One step at a time.”

They exchanged a glance, their determination mirrored in each other’s eyes.

“Ready?” Mark asked.

Haechan took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the strap of his pack. “Let’s go.”

Together, they stepped into the ruins of the city, their journey far from over.

Mark led the way deeper into the city, keeping to the shadows of the crumbling buildings as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. The air was thick and heavy, carrying faint traces of decay and dust. The eerie silence only amplified their sense of vulnerability. They hadn’t run into any threats yet.

“We shouldn’t go too far in,” Haechan said, his voice low. “We need a place to settle before it gets too dark to see.”

Mark nodded. “Agreed. Let’s find something defensible.”

They moved cautiously, scanning the area for potential shelter. The outskirts of the city were littered with debris, abandoned vehicles, and hollowed-out structures. It didn’t take long before they came across a partially intact convenience store, its windows boarded up and the door hanging ajar.

Mark paused in front of it, his hand resting on his knife. “This could work for tonight.”

Haechan peered inside, his flashlight casting a narrow beam of light into the darkness. The store was small, with most of its shelves either toppled or empty, but it looked secure enough. They could use the flashlight for a little longer before it became too dark and it would attract dangers.

“Let’s check it out,” Haechan said, stepping inside carefully.

Mark followed, keeping watch as Haechan inspected the corners and crevices of the room. Once they were certain it was empty, they blocked the door with a heavy shelf and settled in for the night.

Mark dropped his pack near the back wall and sat down, his muscles aching from the day’s journey. “Not bad for a last-minute stop,” he said, pulling out a bottle of water.

Haechan sank to the floor beside him, rummaging through his own bag. “Could use some ambiance, though. Maybe a scented candle or two.”

Mark snorted, taking a sip of water. “Next time we’ll make that a priority.”

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing slightly now that they were out of the open. They knew they couldn’t do that though. It would attract zombies in an instant.

Haechan pulled out a protein bar and split it in half, handing one piece to Mark. “Here. It’s not much, but it’ll hold us over until morning.”

Mark accepted it with a small smile. “Thanks. You’re really taking this whole ‘team survival’ thing seriously, huh?”

Haechan shrugged, biting into his half. “Someone has to keep you alive.”

“Pretty sure that’s my line,” Mark said, smirking.

They ate in companionable silence, the faint sounds of the city settling around them like a blanket. The darkness outside was impenetrable now, and the boarded-up windows made their little hideout feel almost safe. They’d have to carefully ration though since they couldn’t really take much from the base. They had to find more food soon.

As the night wore on, they took turns keeping watch again. Mark insisted on taking the first shift, leaving Haechan to try and get some rest.

Haechan lay on the floor with his pack as a makeshift pillow, his mind refusing to quiet. Every creak of the building and rustle of the wind outside made him jump, his thoughts spiraling toward worst-case scenarios. it had been so long since he had to worry about this all the time. At least the base gave him one thing: a small sense of security.

After about an hour, he gave up trying to sleep and sat up, watching Mark as he kept vigil near the door.

“You should be resting,” Mark said without looking back.

“So should you,” Haechan countered, scooting closer.

Mark sighed but didn’t argue. He glanced at Haechan, his expression softening. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

Mark shifted slightly, making room for Haechan beside him. “Come on, then. Might as well keep me company.”

Haechan hesitated for a moment before settling next to Mark. The quiet between them was comforting this time, their proximity offering a sense of security neither of them would admit aloud.

Mark glanced at him after a while. “We’re going to be fine.”

Haechan smiled faintly. “I know. As long as you don’t get us killed.”

Mark chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

They stayed like that for a while, shoulder to shoulder in the dim light, the weight of their journey temporarily forgotten. Haechan then rested his head on Mark’s shoulder as he looked outside of the window of the store. There was a small part that wasn’t dirty or boarded up that he managed to see the sky.

Mark seemed to be looking at the same thing. The moon was shining beautifully and the stars were shining nicely next to it. They seemed brighter than usual.

They both got lost in the stars for a while, forgetting about their situation and troubles.

When it was finally Haechan’s turn to take watch, Mark leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. But just before sleep claimed him, he murmured, “Thanks for sticking with me no matter how cold I was at the beginning.”

Haechan paused, caught off guard by Mark’s words. He glanced at the other man, who was already halfway to sleep, his features softened in the dim light.

“You weren’t that cold,” Haechan said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You just didn’t know how to let someone in.”

Mark didn’t respond, his breathing deep and even now. Haechan smiled faintly, leaning back against the wall as he adjusted his grip on the turned off flashlight.

“And for the record,” he added softly, more to himself than Mark, “I’d stick with you, no matter what.”

Chapter Text

The next morning arrived quickly. They switched their watching shifts a few times throughout the night and surprisingly they both felt fairly well rested.

The city grew eerily quiet as Mark and Haechan ventured deeper into its ruins. The air was heavy, carrying a sour, metallic tang that clung to their senses. The streets were strewn with debris—cracked pavement, abandoned vehicles, and skeletons of buildings left hollow and crumbling.

Haechan kept close to Mark, gripping the hilt of his knife with one hand and clutching a crowbar in the other. He had found it in the store. His nerves were frayed, but he tried to focus on Mark’s steady presence ahead of him.

“You feel that?” Mark murmured, stopping abruptly in the middle of the street.

Haechan froze, his pulse quickening. “Feel what?”

Mark turned slightly, his expression grim. “The air’s different. Heavier.”

Haechan scanned their surroundings, his stomach twisting. Something was wrong. The city had been eerily quiet since they entered, and now the silence felt suffocating.

Then they heard it—a faint, guttural noise, like a wet growl reverberating through the empty streets.

Haechan gripped Mark’s shoulder. “What the hell was that?” That did not sound like the typical zombie. At least not what Haechan was used to.

“Not normal,” Mark said tightly, raising his weapon—a sturdy metal baton he’d picked up during one of his scouting missions.

The sound grew louder, echoing off the buildings. Then came the shuffling. Slow at first, then faster, erratic.

Mark gestured for Haechan to follow as he ducked behind a rusted car. They crouched low, peering over the hood to spot the source of the noise.

When it appeared, Haechan’s breath hitched.

It wasn’t a regular zombie. Its movements were jerky and unnaturally fast, its body swollen and distorted. Patches of its skin were covered in grotesque growths that pulsed and oozed. One of its arms was longer than the other, ending in sharp, claw-like fingers that scraped against the pavement as it moved. It barely resembled a human anymore.

“Mutated,” Mark whispered. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the baton.

Haechan’s voice shook. “How are we supposed to kill that?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mark said, though the tension in his voice betrayed his doubt.

The creature suddenly stopped, its head twitching erratically as it sniffed the air.

“It’s looking for us,” Mark muttered, his body tensing.

“We can’t let it see us,” Haechan whispered back.

The zombie let out a guttural shriek, its head snapping in their direction. Haechan’s heart sank.

“Too late,” Mark said, springing into action.

The creature charged, its twisted body moving with terrifying speed. Mark vaulted over the car, shouting, “Get back! Stay behind me!”

Haechan didn’t argue. Mark had some more experience with mutated zombies and general combat. He retreated a few steps as Mark swung the baton with precision, striking the creature’s misshapen head. The blow staggered it but didn’t bring it down.

“Damn it!” Mark cursed as the zombie swiped at him with its elongated arm. He narrowly dodged the attack, landing a second blow on the creature’s shoulder.

Haechan’s mind raced. The thing was stronger and faster than any zombie they’d encountered before. He couldn’t just stand there.

He gripped his crowbar tightly, circling around the creature while it was focused on Mark. As the zombie lunged again, Haechan darted in, aiming for one of the swollen growths on its back. The crowbar connected with a sickening squelch, and the creature let out an ear-splitting screech.

“Good hit!” Mark shouted, taking advantage of the distraction to strike the creature’s knee, bringing it partially down.

The mutated zombie flailed, its movements erratic and desperate as it tried to regain its footing. Haechan didn’t hesitate, swinging the crowbar again and again, targeting the pulsating growths.

Finally, with a wet, explosive sound, one of the growths burst, spraying foul-smelling liquid everywhere. The creature let out a final, guttural cry before collapsing to the ground, twitching once before going still.

Haechan stumbled back, panting, his hands trembling. “What the fuck was that thing?”

Mark wiped his face with his sleeve, his expression grim. “Something worse than anything I’ve seen out there. And that’s saying something.”

They stared at the creature’s lifeless body for a moment, the silence ringing in their ears. Then Mark grabbed Haechan’s arm, pulling him away.

“We need to move,” Mark said. “If there’s one of these things, there could be more.”

Haechan nodded, his stomach churning as he followed Mark down the street. The encounter had left him shaken, but one thing was clear—they were dealing with something far more dangerous than they’d prepared for. The mutants here were clearly worse than in City 127.

As they slipped deeper into the city, the weight of their journey pressed heavier on their shoulders. Whatever waited for them at the hospital, they could only hope it was worth it.

The encounter with the mutated zombie left Mark and Haechan on edge, their movements sharper, their senses heightened. They moved quickly, sticking to the shadows and avoiding open spaces. The further they went, the quieter the streets became, as though even the usual threats of the undead avoided this part of the city.

By mid-afternoon, the adrenaline had worn off, replaced by exhaustion and gnawing hunger.

“We need to find something,” Haechan said, his voice hoarse.

Mark glanced back at him. “I know. Let’s check that building up ahead.”

He pointed to a small corner store tucked between two crumbling apartment complexes. Its sign had long since faded, but the structure looked stable, and the windows were intact—likely a good sign that it hadn’t been looted recently.

Mark approached cautiously, gesturing for Haechan to stay back as he peered through the cracked glass of the front door. The interior was dark, with shelves tilted and some toppled over, but no immediate signs of movement.

“Looks clear,” Mark said, testing the door. It creaked open with a little force, and they slipped inside, closing it quietly behind them.

The air inside was stale, but not unbearable. Mark kept his baton ready as he moved through the aisles, scanning for any signs of danger. Haechan followed, his eyes darting around nervously.

“Jackpot,” Haechan whispered, pointing to a shelf near the back.

It was mostly empty, but there were a few cans of food left—beans, soup, and even a dented can of peaches. Beside it was a pack of energy bars, dusty but still sealed.

Mark grinned faintly. “Not bad. Let’s grab it all.”

Haechan stuffed the cans and bars into his bag while Mark checked the rest of the store. Near the counter, he found a small first aid kit missing a few items but still containing essentials like bandages and antiseptic.

“Found this too,” Mark said, holding up the kit.

“Perfect,” Haechan replied, shoving the last can into his bag.

In one of the back rooms, they found a half-full crate of bottled water, a rare luxury. They split the load between them, careful not to overburden their packs.

“It’s not much,” Haechan said as they regrouped near the door, “but it’ll keep us going for now.”

Mark nodded. “We should rest here for a bit, at least until it’s safer to move.”

They barricaded the door with a heavy shelf and found a spot near the back of the store to sit and divide their spoils. Haechan opened one of the cans of peaches, handing half to Mark.

“Peaches, huh?” Mark said, smirking as he took a bite. “We’re really living it up now.”

Haechan chuckled softly. “Hey, it’s better than nothing. And besides, this might be the closest thing to a luxury meal we’ll get for a while.”

They ate in relative silence, the tension from earlier finally easing as they filled their stomachs. The food wasn’t much, but it gave them the energy to keep going.

As the light outside began to fade, they prepared to stay the night. Mark cleared a corner of debris while Haechan spread out a thin blanket from his pack.

“We did good today,” Mark said as he sat down, leaning back against the wall.

Haechan nodded, settling beside him. “Yeah. But that zombie… It’s still in my head. If there are more like that—”

“We’ll deal with them,” Mark interrupted, his voice firm. “We’ve made it this far. We’re not stopping now.”

Haechan glanced at him, his expression softening. “You’re annoyingly optimistic sometimes, you know that?” Seems the roles were reversed.

Mark smirked. “And you’re annoyingly realistic. Guess that’s why we work.” They always seemed to be switching mindsets, but either way they worked well together.

They shared a quiet laugh, the sound breaking the stillness of the store. For a moment, the weight of their journey felt lighter.

Haechan sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Let’s hope tomorrow’s as lucky as today.”

Mark glanced at him, his smirk fading into something softer. “It will be. We’ll make sure of it.”

As the night deepened, they took turns keeping watch, their resolve growing stronger with each passing hour. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they knew they could face them.

The next morning, Mark and Haechan packed up their supplies and stepped back into the quiet streets, the weight of the city’s decay pressing down on them. The air felt colder, the sky overcast and threatening rain, but the oppressive silence of the city hadn’t changed.

Mark led the way, weaving through alleys and side streets to avoid any open areas. He moved with purpose, his mind set on a goal he hadn’t shared yet.

After nearly an hour of walking, Haechan finally broke the silence. “You’ve been quiet. Do you have a destination in mind?”

Mark glanced back at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Actually, yeah. My old apartment isn’t too far from here. If it’s still standing, it’ll make a good place to rest for the night.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow. “Your apartment… that’s a good idea. Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

Mark shrugged. “Didn’t seem important until now.”

Haechan nodded, trusting Mark’s instincts. “Let’s hope it’s as intact as we remember.”

As the afternoon wore on, the city seemed to grow more oppressive. The streets narrowed, the buildings looming higher, their shadows stretching long across the cracked pavement. Haechan started recognizing some of the buildings as he remembered staring from Mark's apartment window at them all.

When they finally reached the apartment building, Haechan was surprised by how unassuming it was. The building was partially overgrown with ivy, different from when they left.

Mark led the way to the front entrance, which hung slightly ajar. He motioned for Haechan to stay back as he stepped inside, his baton at the ready.

This was where they first met. Haechan remembered it clearly. It brought a smile to his face.

The lobby was dim, with dust motes swirling in the faint light that streamed through the grimy windows. The air was stale but not foul, and there were no immediate signs of zombies.

“It’s clear,” Mark said softly, waving Haechan inside.

They made their way up the staircase to the higher floors and eventually to Mark’s floor. Mark stopped in front of his front door, typing in his passcode. He hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

The apartment was surprisingly intact. The living room was modest, with a worn couch and a low coffee table. The kitchenette was cramped, and the bedroom door hung slightly open, revealing a neatly made bed. Exactly like they had left it all those months ago.

Mark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Looks like it hasn’t been touched.”

Haechan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the space. “This is… bringing back memories, actually.”

Mark smiled faintly, setting his bag down near the couch. “We spent a lot of time here when everything went to hell. It’s weird being back.”

Haechan wandered over to the window, peeking through the blinds. The view overlooked the street below, giving them a clear vantage point. “We can definitely use this as a shelter for the night. Good call.”

Mark nodded, already checking the apartment for supplies. He opened a cabinet in the kitchenette and let out a small laugh. “No way.”

Haechan turned. “What?”

Mark pulled out a dusty box of instant ramen. “Dinner’s on me.” They must have forgotten to bring it with them when they left initially.

Haechan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re seriously excited about that?”

“Hey, it’s the little things,” Mark said, grinning. They hadn’t had ramen in so long, having the same meals everyday at the base. Well, Mark had the same small things out on scouting missions, it made sense he was excited for a better meal.

As the evening settled in, the two of them made the apartment as secure as possible. They blocked the front door with a heavy chair, just in case anything happened. Of course there was a lock, but still. Anything could happen.

Afterward, they sat on the floor in the living room, sharing the slightly overcooked ramen from Mark’s emergency stash.

“This isn’t half bad,” Haechan admitted, eating a noodle.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a ramen expert.”

“Sure you are,” Haechan said, smirking. Haechan couldn’t really imagine Mark being good at cooking.

The moment felt almost normal, a brief reprieve from the constant danger outside.

As they finished their meal, Haechan leaned back against the couch, gazing at the ceiling. “Do you think we’ll ever have something like this again? A real place to call home?”

Mark was quiet for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. But I think we’re closer to finding it than we’ve ever been.”

Haechan turned his head to look at him, his expression soft. “You really believe that?”

Mark met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them. “Yeah. I do. As long as we stick together.”

Haechan smiled faintly, the tension in his chest easing. For the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of hope.

The two of them stayed up a while longer, talking about everything and nothing, the walls of the apartment providing a fragile sense of security. When it was finally time to rest, they didn’t take turns keeping watch. Since they were so high up and pretty protected, they thought they’d take the risk of getting a full night’s sleep each.

Sleeping on Mark’s bed was also very nice. It was much more comfortable than the ground and even the base beds. It was also nice having Mark so close by. That night, Haechan cuddled tightly against Mark as he closed his eyes for a very restful sleep. Probably his most comfortable sleep of this entire apocalypse.

Chapter Text

They didn’t know how things got how they were in such a short amount of time, but after waking up, they were in a bit of a crazy position.

Mark's fingers were clenched around the back of Haechan's neck, forcing his head down. Haechan gasped, his face inches away from Mark's erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting shadows that danced across their heaving bodies.

"Look at me," Mark commanded, his voice a low growl. "You’re going to take it, aren’t you?"

Haechan's breath hitched, his eyes flickering up to meet Mark’s. The intensity in those dark eyes sent a shiver down his spine. He nodded quickly, unable to form words under the weight of Mark’s gaze. His heart pounded in his chest, each thud echoing in his ears. This is not what he was expecting to do right when he woke up.

"That's right," Mark said, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You know what I want."

Haechan swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He could feel the heat radiating off Mark’s body, the scent of arousal heavy in the air. He wanted this—needed this—more than he cared to admit. He pressed his lips to the tip of Mark’s cock, feeling the warmth seep through the thin material of his boxers.

Mark groaned, his hips bucking slightly. "mmh," he murmured, his free hand sliding down to cup Haechan’s jaw. "Now, open your mouth." Mark then removed his underwear in preparation for what came next.

Haechan obeyed without hesitation, his lips parting as he took the head of Mark’s cock between them. It wasn’t the first time they had done this, but the intensity of Mark never failed to thrill him. He sucked lightly, teasing the sensitive skin with the flat of his tongue. He felt like he had the hang of it now that he and Mark had done this a few times.

Mark’s fingers dug into the flesh of Haechan’s neck, gripping tighter as he began to thrust slowly, guiding his cock deeper into Haechan’s eager mouth. "Fuck, yeah," he grunted, his voice rough with desire. "Take it all, just like that."

Haechan moaned around the thick length, his cheeks hollowing as he worked to accommodate every inch. He loved the way Mark made him feel, so utterly consumed by the older man’s desires. It was a heady mix of fear and exhilaration, the knowledge that he was completely at Mark’s mercy.

Mark’s thrusts grew more insistent, his hips snapping forward with increasing force. Haechan gagged slightly, his throat closing around the invading cock. It only seemed to spur Mark on, his grunts of pleasure growing louder as he fucked Haechan’s mouth relentlessly.

"That’s it," Mark panted, his eyes locked onto Haechan.

Haechan continued, his tongue flicking over the underside of Mark’s shaft as he bobbed his head up and down. He could feel the knot of tension building in Mark, the older man’s breathing becoming more ragged. He knew what was coming, and he welcomed it.

With a final, deep thrust, Mark buried himself to the hilt in Haechan’s throat. Haechan’s eyes watered, but he held still, waiting for the inevitable release. Mark groaned deeply, his entire body tensing as he came explosively, filling Haechan’s mouth.

Haechan swallowed obediently, licking his lips clean as Mark pulled out. He looked up at the older man, his eyes wide and adoring. He loved every moment of this, it left him breathless.

Mark’s fingers trailed down Haechan’s neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He reached for the hem of Haechan’s shirt, dragging it up over his head and tossing it aside. Haechan shivered as the cool air hit his bare skin, his nipples pebbling in response.

"Turn around," Mark ordered, his voice firm. "On your hands and knees."

Haechan obeyed instantly, shifting to kneel on the bed. He felt a thrill of anticipation as he positioned himself, the mattress sagging beneath his weight. He heard the rustle of fabric as Mark fully removed his pants, the sound making his heart race even faster.

Mark’s hands landed on Haechan’s hips, the touch firm and commanding. "Spread your legs," he instructed, his voice a low rumble.

Haechan complied, bending one knee to widen the gap between his thighs. He felt the cool air brush against his exposed skin, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. He tried to steady his breathing, but it came out in uneven gasps.

Mark’s fingers ghosted over the curve of Haechan’s ass, tracing the line of his crack before dipping lower. Haechan bit his lip, his entire body trembling with anticipation. He could feel the dampness pooling between his legs, aching for Mark’s touch.

"So eager," Mark murmured, his fingers brushing against Haechan’s entrance. "But you need to be ready first."

Haechan whimpered softly, his body arching instinctively toward the touch. He could feel the heat pooling in his groin, the need to be filled overwhelming. He tried to push back, but Mark’s grip on his hips held him firmly in place.

"Not yet," Mark said firmly, his fingers retreating. "Patience, Haechan."

Haechan groaned in frustration, his body taut with desire. He hated having to wait, but he also knew better than to rush Mark. The older man had his own pace, and Haechan was willing to follow it.

"Lean forward," Mark instructed, his voice gruff. "Let me see your ass."

Haechan did as he was told, pressing his forehead to the mattress as he arched his back. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but the thrill of it only heightened his arousal. He could feel the heat of Mark’s gaze on his bare skin, the intensity of it making his breath catch in his throat.

Mark’s fingers returned to Haechan’s entrance, this time coated in something slick. Haechan shuddered as the cold liquid spread across his skin, the sensation both startling and erotic. Mark’s finger pressed against his hole, probing gently at first before pushing inside.

It seemed Mark had some lube left in his bedroom from before the apocalypse happened.

"Good," Mark praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Take it easy."

Haechan nodded, though Mark couldn’t see it. He relaxed his muscles, allowing the finger to slide in further. The stretch was slight, but enough to make his breath hitch. He could feel the wetness spreading, the lube working its way inside him. It made it easier.

Mark’s finger moved slowly, curling just enough to graze Haechan’s prostate. The younger man cried out, his body jerking in surprise. The sensation was electric, shooting straight to his cock where it stood painfully hard.

"Feels good, doesn’t it?" Mark asked, his tone almost conversational.

Haechan could only nod, too overwhelmed by the sensations to speak. Mark’s finger pressed deeper, stroking his prostate with expert precision. Each pass sent another wave of pleasure crashing through him, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Ready?" Mark asked, his voice low and intimate.

Haechan opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, he nodded frantically, his entire body vibrating with need. He needed Mark inside him, needed to feel the full weight of his dominance crushing him.

Mark withdrew his finger slowly, the absence almost painful. He shifted behind Haechan, aligning his cock with the younger man’s entrance. Haechan could feel the head pressing against him, the blunt pressure insistent.

"Here we go," Mark whispered, and with one swift motion, he pushed inside.

Haechan moaned, the sudden intrusion almost too much to bear. His body stretched impossibly tight around Mark’s dick, the fullness overwhelming. He gripped the sheets in white-knuckled fists, trying to steady himself as Mark paused, buried deep inside him.

"Breathe," Mark instructed, his voice calm despite the urgency in his movements. "Just breathe."

Haechan forced himself to relax, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Slowly, the initial sting faded, replaced by a warm, throbbing ache. He could feel the pulsing of Mark’s cock inside him, the sensation almost unbearably pleasurable.

"Just like that," Mark praised, his voice rough with emotion. "Perfect."

And then he began to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with relentless force. Haechan cried out again, his voice breaking on the edge of a sob. The rhythm was brutal, each thrust driving deep into his core.

"Fuck," Mark growled, his hands gripping Haechan’s hips tightly. "You feel so fucking good."

Haechan’s vision blurred with tears, his body trembling under the onslaught. He could feel the sweat rolling down his back, mingling with the lube that coated his skin. The friction was intense, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure streaking through him.

"Look at me," Mark demanded, his voice sharp.

Haechan lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Mark’s. The intensity in those dark eyes was almost too much to bear. He could see the hunger there, the raw need that matched his own.

"Tell me how much you want it," Mark ordered, his thrusts slowing to a deliberate, punishing pace.

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was stare helplessly into Mark’s eyes, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Say it," Mark insisted, his voice cracking with strain. "Tell me."

Haechan’s voice broke in a whisper, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Please, hyung… please…"

Mark's grip tightens around Haechan's neck, not enough to choke, but just enough to remind the younger man of who is in control. His dark eyes bore into Haechan's, the intensity of his gaze making the younger man's breath hitch. The room is filled with the sounds of their labored breathing, the slick squelching of skin against skin, and the occasional grunt of exertion from Mark.

"You love this, don't you?" Mark growls, his voice low and commanding. "You love how I take you."

Haechan nods, too overwhelmed to speak, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and adoration. He feels the burn of Mark's thrusts deep inside him, each one pushing him closer to the edge. His body trembles under Mark's touch, every muscle coiling with anticipation. The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of lubricant, creating an intoxicating aroma that heightens Haechan's arousal.

Mark's fingers dig into Haechan's hips, pulling him back onto his cock with brutal force. "Tell me," he demands, his voice vibrating through Haechan's body. "Tell me how much you love it."

"I... I love it," Haechan gasps, his voice breaking with emotion. "I love how you take me, hyung. I love how you make me feel."

'I love you...' But he didn't say that last part out loud.

Mark smirks, his pleasure evident in the way his eyes narrow and his lips curl. He’s then leaning down to nip at Haechan's earlobe. completely oblivious to Haechan's internal confession.

Haechan whimpers, the combination of pain and pleasure sending shivers down his spine, making him forget any thoughts he was just having. He can feel Mark seeping into him, filling every inch of his being. The taste of salt on his lips reminds him of the sweat that clings to both of them, a testament to the intensity of their encounter.

Mark's thrusts become more erratic, his control wavering as he approaches his climax. "Look at me," he commands, forcing Haechan to meet his gaze. "Keep your eyes on me while I make you come."

Haechan's heart races, his pulse pounding in his ears as he locks eyes with Mark. The older man's face is twisted with desire, his teeth bared in a feral grin. Haechan can see the raw power in Mark's eyes, the unyielding dominance that makes him feel so safe and so vulnerable at the same time.

"That's it," Mark whispers, his voice hoarse with need. "Take it all, Haechan.”

With a final, desperate thrust, Mark buries himself deep inside Haechan, his hips bucking wildly as he spills into the younger man. Haechan cries out, his own release triggered by Mark's intense penetration, his body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over him.

For a moment, there is only the sound of their mingled breaths and the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh. Mark's hands roam over Haechan's body, leaving bruises and hickies in their wake. Haechan moans, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the experience.

As their orgasms wane, Mark collapses onto Haechan, his weight pressing the younger man into the comfortable mattress. They lie there in silence, the only sound the slow, steady beat of their hearts. Mark's lips find Haechan's neck, nuzzling the soft skin as he catches his breath.

There was no need for words, both of them understood the other fully at that moment.

Their chests heaved in sync for a few minutes as they calmed themselves down. Then after a little while, Mark sat up properly and gently carried Haechan over towards his bathroom.

They were lucky that the water was still running in the city.

Chapter Text

That morning, the light streamed faintly through the cracks in the blinds, and for the first time in days, neither Mark nor Haechan rushed to pack up. The apartment was quiet, almost peaceful, and for a moment, it felt like time had rewound to before the apocalypse.

Mark stretched on the couch, his baton resting within arm’s reach. “You know,” he said lazily, “we don’t have to leave right away. The apartment’s secure, and we could use the rest.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow as he sat cross-legged on the floor, rummaging through their supplies. “Are you sure? You’re the one who’s always itching to move.”

Mark gave him a small smile. “Yeah, but… I was thinking. This place isn’t just some random stop for me.” He glanced around the room, his expression softening. “It’s where I was when everything went to hell. And it’s where we met.”

Haechan stilled, the memory surfacing like a ripple in still water. “That’s right,” he said quietly. “You found me right outside, didn’t you?”

Mark nodded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You were running from zombies, trying to get away. You were crying so hard I had to do something.”

Haechan laughed lightly. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly my finest hour. I thought I’d be safe at that time of day until I was attacked and chased. I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I thought you were infected,” Mark said, smirking. “But you were stubborn. You didn’t trust me at first either and after enough time passed, I realized you weren’t turning into one of them.”

Haechan shrugged. “Can you blame me? A random guy showing up in the middle of the apocalypse saying he wants to help? It sounded too good to be true.” At the same time, Haechan did trust him pretty quickly because he had to rely on him to stitch his wound and care for him for a month.

Mark chuckled. “Fair enough. But we made it work. We stayed here for what? A month?”

“About a month,” Haechan said, leaning back against the wall. “Until we decided to head for that base. What a waste of time.”

Mark’s smile faded slightly. “Yeah. That was rough.” He glanced at Haechan, his gaze steady. “But we made it out.”

Haechan’s expression softened. “And we’ve been together ever since.” He thought of the base briefly. “Well for the most part.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the weight of the memories settled between them.

Deciding to stay for an extra day, they let themselves breathe for the first time in weeks. Mark spent some time in the apartment’s small bedroom, looking through old belongings he hadn’t had the heart to take before. He found a photo of himself with a group of friends, smiling and carefree, and tucked it into his bag without a word.

Haechan, meanwhile, explored the other rooms on the floor. He found a dusty deck of cards in one and brought it back to the apartment.

“Thought we could use a distraction,” he said, holding it up.

Mark grinned. “You think you can beat me at cards? Bold of you to assume.”

They spent the afternoon playing and laughing, the tension of their journey momentarily forgotten.

As the day turned to evening, Haechan sat by the window, watching the city bathe in the warm glow of the setting sun. “Do you ever think about what it would’ve been like if the world hadn’t fallen apart?”

Mark joined him, leaning against the wall. “Sometimes. But it’s hard to imagine.” He glanced at Haechan. “Maybe I wouldn’t have met you.”

Haechan looked at him, startled by the sincerity in his voice. “You think so?”

Mark nodded. “I wasn’t exactly the type to reach out to people before all this. The apocalypse kind of forced me to open up.”

Haechan smiled faintly. “Well, I’m glad it did. Otherwise, I’d probably still be stuck up in my room trying to survive on crackers.”

Mark laughed. “And I’d probably still be holed up here, thinking I could make it alone.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history hung between them.

“Guess we’ve come a long way,” Haechan said softly.

“Yeah,” Mark replied, his voice equally quiet. “We have.”

The next morning, they both knew it was time to go. Staying longer, as comforting as it was, wasn’t an option. They packed their things and gave the apartment one last look.

As they stood by the door, Haechan hesitated. “Do you think we’ll ever come back here?”

Mark looked at him, then at the room they had shared so many memories in. “Maybe. But if we do, it won’t be to hide. It’ll be because we found a way to make things better.”

Haechan nodded, his grip tightening on his bag. “Then let’s make sure we do.”

With that, they stepped out into the world again, ready to face whatever came next.

The streets were eerily quiet as Mark and Haechan left the apartment building behind, their footsteps muffled by the cracked pavement. The silence didn’t feel like safety; it felt like a trap waiting to spring at them.

“Stay close,” Mark said, gripping his baton tightly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Haechan muttered, his eyes scanning every shadow and corner.

The first few blocks passed without incident, but the deeper they moved into the city, the more oppressive the air became. It was as if the city itself was watching them.

Haechan quietly observed a map in order to guide them, although he did sort of remember his way to his own apartment which was in the general direction of the hospital. Maybe they could also stop at his own apartment.

Haechan put the map back into his bag and as they turned a corner they immediately froze. A group of zombies shuffled aimlessly in the middle of the street, their decaying bodies swaying with unnatural jerks. There were at least ten of them, too many to fight head-on.

Mark held up a hand to signal Haechan to stop. “Back up. Slowly.”

They began to retreat, but as they stepped into the alley they’d come from, a low growl rumbled behind them. Haechan’s breath hitched.

Mark whipped around to see a lone zombie stumbling out of a side door, its pale eyes locking onto them.

“Damn it,” Mark hissed.

The creature let out a guttural snarl, loud enough to alert the group ahead.

The zombies in the street turned, their heads snapping in their direction, and a chilling chorus of groans filled the air.

“Run!” Mark shouted, grabbing Haechan’s arm.
They sprinted down the alley, their boots pounding against the ground. The zombies followed, their guttural cries echoing off the walls. Haechan was getting flashbacks.

Haechan’s breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep up. “Where—are we—going?”

“Anywhere but here!” Mark shouted over his shoulder. They were now holding hands as they ran as fast as they could.

They burst out onto another street, only to find more zombies drawn by the noise. The creatures staggered toward them from all sides, their numbers multiplying with every second.

“This way!” Mark yelled, spotting an overturned bus that created a narrow gap between buildings.

They scrambled through the gap, Mark going first and pulling Haechan after him just as a zombie’s clawed hand swiped at his back.

The space funnelled them into another alley, but this one was littered with debris—broken furniture, shattered glass, and an old chain-link fence that blocked their path.

“Climb!” Mark shouted, boosting Haechan up first.
The fence groaned under their weight, but they managed to get over just as the first zombie slammed into it.

Haechan hit the ground hard on the other side, rolling to his feet. “They’re not stopping!”

“They never do,” Mark replied grimly, pulling him forward.

The alley opened up into a small courtyard surrounded by crumbling buildings. Mark scanned the area, searching for an escape route, but the sound of the horde closing in made it clear they were running out of time.

Then, a new sound cut through the chaos—a sharp clicking noise, almost insect-like.

“What the hell is that?” Haechan asked, his voice trembling.

Before Mark could answer, a mutated zombie burst out from a doorway. It was faster than the others, its grotesque form twitching with unnatural movements. Its limbs were longer, its claws sharper, and its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.

Mark swore under his breath. “Haechan, stay behind me!”

The creature lunged, and Mark swung his baton with all his strength, hitting its shoulder. The impact barely fazed it.

“Run!” Mark yelled, but Haechan didn’t move.

Instead, Haechan grabbed a chunk of concrete from the ground and hurled it at the zombie’s head. The hit staggered it just enough for Mark to land a decisive blow, cracking its skull. The creature crumpled, but the sound had drawn more zombies.

“They’re coming!” Haechan shouted, pointing to the alley they’d come from.

Mark grabbed his hand. “There’s a fire escape—go!”
They scrambled up the metal ladder, the structure rattling under their weight. The zombies reached the bottom, clawing at the rusted rungs, but they were too slow to follow.

They climbed onto the roof of a nearby building, collapsing in exhaustion. Mark rolled onto his back, staring at the cloudy sky as his chest heaved.

“That… was too close,” he said between breaths.
Haechan sat up, his hands shaking. “No kidding. I thought we were done for.”

Mark looked at him, his expression softening despite the situation. “You didn’t freeze up. You fought back.”

Haechan laughed weakly. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let you handle that thing alone.”

Mark smiled, squeezing Haechan’s hand.

Haechan nodded, his resolve strengthening. “We have to keep moving. But first… let’s catch our breath.”

They sat there for a moment, the sounds of the city far below. It wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t over, but they were alive—and for now, that was enough.

The rooftop provided a brief reprieve, but the city below still churned with danger. Mark sat up, glancing at Haechan, who was leaning against the edge of the roof, his face pale but determined.

“We can’t stay up here too long,” Mark said, his voice steady but low. “They’ll lose interest eventually, but we’re still in the middle of this mess.”

Haechan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “Do you have a plan? Because I’m all ears.”

Mark scanned the skyline, noting the scattered rooftops, alleys, and broken streets. His eyes caught the faint outline of the forest on the city’s edge, just barely visible through the haze. “We’ll stick to the rooftops for now, keep heading toward the forest. Once we’re out of the city, we’ll have better cover.”

Haechan exhaled slowly, trying to steady his nerves. “Alright. Let’s get moving before something else crawls out of the shadows.”

The two of them moved cautiously across the rooftops, leaping from one building to the next when the gaps were small enough or finding ladders to climb down and back up when they weren’t. The rooftops weren’t entirely safe—there were remnants of old camps, some abandoned in haste and others with clear signs of struggle.

As they climbed over a crumbling wall, Mark gestured for Haechan to pause. Below them, a group of zombies wandered aimlessly in a small courtyard. Most looked like standard infected, but one had the grotesque mutations they’d seen before—a hunched, twisted figure with elongated limbs and jagged claws.

“Another one,” Haechan whispered, his voice tight.

Mark’s grip on his baton tightened. “They’re getting more common. That’s not good.”

Haechan nodded, his jaw clenched. “Let’s keep going. The less we have to deal with those things, the better.”

By the time the sun started to set, they had made significant progress toward the city’s edge. Mark spotted a small convenience store built into the side of a larger building. Its rooftop was accessible by a rusted fire escape, and the front windows were boarded up, suggesting it might not have been entirely looted.

“We’ll check it out,” Mark said, pointing.

They climbed down and carefully entered the building through a back window. Inside, the air was stale but not rancid—a good sign. Mark took point, his baton at the ready, while Haechan checked the shelves.

“Perfect,” Haechan whispered, holding up a dusty but sealed pack of energy bars.

Mark grinned. “Nice. Keep looking—grab anything useful.”

They worked quickly, gathering a small stash of supplies: bottled water, a few cans of soup, a first aid kit, and even a small propane burner.

Haechan leaned over to look. “Good find. Let’s get out of here before anything notices we’re here.”

They decided to stay on the roof of the convenience store for the night. The building was low enough to avoid drawing attention, but the boarded-up windows and sturdy construction made it defensible.

As darkness fell, the two of them sat side by side, sharing one of the energy bars. The city’s distant moans and groans were a constant reminder of the danger surrounding them.

“This feels surreal,” Haechan said, breaking the silence. “Just… sitting here, eating a snack like it’s a normal night.”

Mark glanced at him, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve had a ‘normal’ night in a long time.”

Haechan chuckled dryly. “Fair point. Still, it’s nice to catch our breath for a second.”

Mark nodded, his gaze distant. “We’re getting closer. Once we’re out of the city, the forest will be easier to navigate. And after that…”

“The hospital,” Haechan finished, his voice quiet. The forest that they could see from the rooftops was where the hospital was actually located. It was still very far away though.

Mark looked at him, something unspoken passing between them. “We’re going to make it. We’ll get to the hospital, figure out what’s there, and maybe… maybe we’ll finally catch a break.”

Haechan reached out, his hand brushing against Mark’s again. “We will.” He said sincerely.

A brief silence enveloped them before Haechan spoke again. “My apartment is coming up too, we can stop there sometime.”

“Really?” Mark asked. “We definitely need to stop there.” A smile was plastered on his lips. Haechan smiled back softly.

Mark’s hand tightened briefly over Haechan’s before he pulled back, clearing his throat. “We should get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

Haechan smiled faintly, lying down on his makeshift bedroll. “Wake me if anything happens.”

Mark watched him for a moment before turning his attention back to the darkened city. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Haechan—not now, not ever. They’d made it this far.

Chapter Text

The streets thinned as Mark and Haechan moved closer to their destination. They had avoided major areas, sticking to alleys and side streets to steer clear of both the undead and any remnants of looters or scavengers.

“Are you sure it’s still standing?” Mark asked, glancing over his shoulder as they rounded a corner.

Haechan nodded. “It was holding up the last time I passed by, right before I joined you at your place.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “I didn’t think I’d ever come back.”

Mark gave him a sidelong glance. “You never really talked about it. Your apartment, I mean.”

Haechan shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Not much to say. It’s small, messy… but it was mine for a short time.”

They fell into a tense silence as they navigated the quiet streets, every shadow and corner a potential threat. Finally, Haechan slowed, gesturing toward a squat building with chipped paint and broken windows.

“There,” he said, his voice almost reverent.

The building was in better shape than Mark had expected. It wasn’t pristine by any means—but it was still intact.

Haechan led the way, his steps cautious but confident. He paused at the door, glancing at Mark. “There’s a staircase in the back. My place is on the sixth floor.”

Mark nodded, following closely as they entered the building. Inside, it smelled of mildew and dust, but the air was otherwise undisturbed.

They climbed the creaking stairs in silence until Haechan stopped in front of a door with peeling paint. He pulled a small key from his pocket, one he had somehow managed to keep all this time, and slid it into the lock.

“It’s probably not much,” he said, his tone hesitant.

Mark stepped closer, his voice quiet. “Hey. It’s your place. That’s what matters.”

Haechan gave him a faint smile and pushed the door open.

The apartment was small, just as Haechan had described. A couch sat against one wall, covered in a faded quilt, and a tiny kitchen was visible through an open archway. There were books and magazines scattered across a coffee table, along with a guitar leaning against the corner. All covered in crazy amounts of dust.

Mark’s eyes immediately landed on a collage of photos pinned to the wall above the couch. He stepped closer, studying the snapshots of Haechan with family, and even a few solo shots of him playing guitar or laughing at something off-camera.

“This is… nice,” Mark said, his voice sincere. “It feels like you.”

Haechan laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Messy, chaotic, and cramped?”

Mark shook his head. “Personal. Full of life.”

Haechan’s gaze softened as he looked around the space. “It was my safe haven before everything fell apart. I always thought I’d come back someday, but not like this. I actually only lived here for a month before everything happened.”

Mark nodded in understanding before he walked over to the guitar, picking it up gently. “You played a lot, huh?”

Haechan nodded, watching him carefully. “It kept me sane. Still does when I get the chance.”

Mark strummed the strings lightly, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. “You’ll have to play for me sometime.”

Haechan smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Maybe I will. But first, we need to survive.”

They decided to stay for the night and possibly the next day, needing the rest and a chance to gather their thoughts. Haechan rummaged through his old cabinets and drawers, finding a few canned goods and supplies he’d forgotten about.

Mark explored the space, noting the little details—scratched floors from moving furniture, notes scribbled on a whiteboard in the kitchen, and even a stack of vinyl records tucked under the TV stand.

“This place has character,” Mark said, leaning against the counter as Haechan heated up a can of soup on a small camping stove.

Haechan snorted. “That’s one way to put it. I always thought it was just… me. A little corner of the world that didn’t demand too much.”

Mark’s expression softened. “I get it now. Why you never wanted to talk about it. It’s hard to think about what you’ve lost.”

Haechan glanced at him, his hand stilling. “Yeah. But I’ve also gained something since then.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Haechan turned back to the stove, his voice quiet. “You.”

Mark blinked, his chest tightening. He stepped closer, his voice low. “Haechan…”

Before he could say more, Haechan turned with the two steaming bowls of soup. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

Mark took the bowl, his gaze lingering on Haechan’s face. “Thanks.”

Haechan met his eyes for a moment before sitting down at the small dining table. They ate in companionable silence, the weight of their journey temporarily lifted by the warmth of the apartment.

The next day the morning light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a golden glow over the apartment. Haechan stood by the window, gazing out at the quiet streets below.

Mark approached, his voice soft. “We don’t have to leave right away. You deserve a little time here.”

Haechan smiled faintly. “Thanks. But we can’t linger too long. The hospital’s waiting, and so are the answers. I’m probably more attached to your place than my own.”

Mark let out a laugh before he rested a hand on Haechan’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “We’ll get there.”

Haechan leaned into the touch for a moment before stepping away, his resolve firm. “Let’s make today count. This place might be home, but it’s not where we’re meant to stop.”

Mark nodded, glancing around the apartment one last time. “Then let’s get ready. The next part of this journey isn’t going to be easy.”

And with that, they began preparing to leave, carrying the memory of Haechan’s apartment with them as a reminder of what they were fighting for.

By midday, they were packed and ready to leave. Haechan took one last look around the apartment, his gaze lingering on the little details that made it home—the faded photo collage, the stack of books on the coffee table, the guitar propped in the corner.

Mark watched him from the doorway, giving him some space. “You good?” he asked quietly.

Haechan nodded, though his fingers lingered on the edge of the doorframe. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Even though he wasn’t too fond of the place, it had been his home for a while.

Soon, they were back onto the streets.

The streets were quieter than before, though no less dangerous. Every step felt calculated, their movements precise as they avoided open spaces and stayed close to walls and alleyways. The occasional shuffling sound of the undead kept their senses on edge.

Haechan broke the silence as they moved. “The forest isn’t far now. If we stick to the plan, we should reach the city’s edge by nightfall.”

Mark adjusted the straps of his pack and nodded. “Good. I’ll feel a lot better once we’re out of this concrete jungle.”

As they turned a corner into what looked like a deserted neighborhood, the sound of shattering glass tore through the air.

“Get down!” Mark hissed, grabbing Haechan’s arm and pulling him behind an overturned car. Of course something just had to happen.

A group of zombies—five, no, six of them—emerged from a half-collapsed building, their decaying forms moving faster than either of them expected.

“They’re fresh,” Haechan muttered, pulling out his knife.

Mark unslung his baton and checked the distance. “We take them fast. No noise if we can help it.” That was why Mark hadn’t really used his gun yet throughout all these months. Only in extreme emergencies.

Haechan nodded, his grip tightening.

Mark moved first, circling wide to distract the nearest zombie. It lunged at him, its gnarled hands clawing at the air. Mark ducked, spinning behind it, and brought his baton down with a sickening crunch.

Haechan followed suit, slipping up behind another and plunging his knife into the base of its skull. It fell silently, and he yanked the blade free.

But the remaining zombies caught wind of them, and the fight quickly escalated. One stumbled toward Haechan, faster than he could react, but Mark was there in a heartbeat, shoving it back with a grunt and finishing it off with a sharp blow.

Haechan didn’t waste the moment of relief, taking down another zombie as it reached for Mark’s unprotected back.

Within minutes, the street was still again, the bodies of the undead scattered around them.

Mark panted, leaning against the car. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Haechan replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “You?”

“Still standing,” Mark said, giving him a tired smile. “Let’s keep moving. Staying here too long isn’t smart.” Luckily the zombies were mutated, or at least not to the point where they couldn’t quickly deal with them.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the outline of the forest became clearer. The city began to thin, the buildings replaced by overgrown lots and rusted cars.

The sight of the trees brought a sense of relief, though Mark remained cautious. “We’ll set up camp just inside the treeline,” he said. “Enough cover to stay hidden, but not so deep we lose our bearings.”

Haechan nodded. “Fine by me. I’m ready to get off these streets.”

They entered the forest carefully, their senses heightened as they adjusted to the new surroundings. The air was cooler here, the sounds of rustling leaves and distant animals replacing the oppressive silence of the city.

They found a small clearing a short distance in and began setting up camp. Haechan laid out their blankets while Mark checked their perimeter.

“I think we’re good,” Mark said when he returned, sitting down beside the small camp Haechan had set up. “No signs of anything nearby.”

Haechan stretched out his legs, staring into the flames. “It’s strange. Being somewhere that feels… normal.”

Mark chuckled. “Normal’s a stretch, but yeah. It’s different.”

They sat in silence for a while, the wind blowing between them.

“Thanks for earlier,” Haechan said suddenly, his voice low.

Mark looked over at him. “For what?”

“Having my back. You didn’t have to…” Haechan hesitated, then sighed. “I just appreciate it.” There he went, spouting nonsense again.

Mark’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to thank me for that. We’re a team, Haechan.”

Haechan glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Always.”

As night fell, the two of them settled into their routine—taking shifts to watch while the other rested. The forest was quiet, but neither of them let their guard down entirely.

The hospital still loomed ahead, a goal they both held tightly to. But for now, as they sat in the safety of the trees, the world didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The next day began quietly, the early morning light filtering through the forest canopy in soft beams. Mark and Haechan packed their things quickly, the routine practiced and efficient. They didn’t speak much, saving their energy for the long trek ahead.

The forest stretched on for kilometres, a mix of towering trees and dense underbrush. It provided cover, but it also slowed their progress.

“Do you think it’ll be safe?” Haechan asked after a while, his voice breaking the silence. He couldn’t imagine many zombies being at the fenced in hospital.

Mark glanced at him. “The hospital? Hard to say. If it’s anything like the rest of the city, it’ll be overrun and falling apart. But if there’s even a chance that what we’re looking for is there, it’s worth it.”

Haechan nodded, adjusting the straps of his pack. “I just hope we’re not too late. Who knows how much time we have before…” He trailed off, but Mark understood.

“Before the base comes looking for us,” Mark finished.

Haechan sighed. “Yeah.” They knew some of the basses secrets, and the base could have sent scouts out to look for them.

Mark stopped and turned to him, his expression firm. “We’ll handle it. One step at a time. First, we find the hospital. Then, we figure out the rest.”

Haechan gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right. One step at a time.”

--

The day wore on, the forest growing denser the farther they went. The air felt heavier, the quiet more oppressive.

As they approached a narrow path lined with thorny bushes, a low, guttural growl froze them in place.

Mark raised his hand, signaling Haechan to stop. Slowly, he drew his baton, scanning the trees.

“Do you see it?” Haechan whispered, his hand on his knife. Of course, just as they were discussing a possibility of their being no zombies, one pops up to spite them.

Mark shook his head, his body tense. The growling grew louder, and then, from the shadows, a creature emerged.

It was a zombie, but not like the ones they’d encountered before. Its body was twisted, its limbs elongated and unnaturally bent. Patches of bone jutted out from its skin, and its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.

Haechan swallowed hard. “What the hell is that?” He obviously knew it was a mutant, but it was the scariest and ugliest he’d ever seen. He didn't even want to look at it.

“Ew,” Mark muttered, gripping his weapon tighter. “We’re not sticking around to find out.”

The creature lunged, faster than either of them expected. Mark barely dodged its swipe, rolling to the side and slamming his baton against its leg. The blow made a sickening crack, but the creature barely flinched.

Haechan darted in, stabbing at its exposed ribs. The creature howled, spinning toward him with unnerving speed.

“Keep moving!” Mark shouted, landing another hit, this time on the back of its neck.

The fight was brutal, every movement calculated as they worked together to bring the creature down. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it collapsed with a shuddering groan.

Both of them stood there, panting and bloodied.

“What the hell was that?” Haechan asked again, his voice shaking slightly.

Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. But if there are more of those things out here…” Maybe the forest wasn’t as safe as they thought.

“We need to move,” Haechan finished, already starting to walk.

The encounter left them on edge, their senses heightened as they pushed forward. Every sound, every movement in the trees made them jump. But by the time the sun began to set, the trees started to thin.

“We’re close,” Haechan said, his voice quiet but hopeful. He recognized this area from all those months ago with Silus.

Mark pointed ahead. “Look.”

Through the gaps in the trees, they could see the edges of an abandoned small city. Short buildings stood like jagged teeth against the horizon, their silhouettes dark against the orange sky.

And there, at the far edge of the city, stood the hospital.

It was a massive structure, its top floors barely visible from their vantage point. The faded red cross on its side was just discernible through the haze.

“There it is,” Haechan said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and dread. He was back to where it all started. It had been so long... if only he could have convinced Silus not to go that night.

Mark exhaled, his grip on his baton loosening slightly. “We’ve made it.”

Haechan turned to him, a determined look in his eyes. “No going back now.”

Mark nodded, his gaze fixed on the distant hospital. “Let’s finish this.”

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped lower, Mark and Haechan pressed onward toward the hospital. The forest gave way to overgrown roads, abandoned vehicles, and crumbling infrastructure. The air carried the metallic scent of decay, a reminder of the dangers lurking around every corner.

The hospital stood like a grim beacon in the distance, its faded red cross barely visible through the mist.

“We’ll have to stick to the outskirts,” Mark said, scanning the area ahead. “Too many open streets between here and there.”

Haechan adjusted his pack and nodded. “And keep it quiet. We don’t know what’s out here.”

The outskirts were eerily quiet, the buildings crumbling under the weight of time and nature. Vines crept up walls, and shattered windows yawned like empty eyes. The pair moved carefully, their weapons drawn and senses on high alert.

As they turned a corner, Haechan gestured toward a narrow alleyway. “We can cut through here. It’ll get us closer without crossing the main road.” That’s the way Haechan and Silus had gone when they first came.

Mark peeked down the alley, his eyes narrowing. “Looks clear enough. Let’s go.”

The alley was tight, the walls of the adjacent buildings pressing in on them. Trash and debris cluttered the ground, making every step a calculated effort to avoid noise.

Halfway through, Haechan paused and pointed ahead. “Look.”

A group of zombies lingered near the end of the alley, their backs turned. They appeared slow and distracted, shuffling aimlessly.

“Think we can sneak past?” Haechan whispered.
Mark nodded. “Stay low and quiet.”

They crept forward, each step deliberate and silent. The tension was suffocating, but they managed to slip by undetected. Once they were clear, they hurried to the next block, hearts pounding.

By the time they reached the hospital’s perimeter, the sky was dark, and the moon cast an eerie glow over the scene. The building loomed above them, its windows dark and foreboding.

The parking lot surrounding the hospital was littered with abandoned vehicles and overgrown grass. A rusted ambulance leaned precariously against a lamppost, its siren long silenced.

Mark crouched behind a low wall, pulling Haechan down beside him. “We need to check for any movement. Could be zombies, or worse… someone else.”

Haechan nodded, his eyes scanning the area. “If anyone’s still here, they’ve been hiding for a long time. Let’s hope it’s empty.”

Mark pulled out the binoculars from his pack, inspecting the hospital’s entrances. “Front doors are barricaded from the inside,” he muttered. “Windows on the lower floors are broken, but they’ve been boarded up. Someone’s been here.”

Haechan frowned. “Recently?” It looked a bit different from when Haechan last was there.
Mark shook his head. “Can’t tell. But we’ll need to find another way in.”

They continued circling the hospital, staying low and keeping to the shadows. The perimeter was eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of metal or the distant groan of a zombie somewhere deeper in the city.

Haechan scanned the side of the building, his eyes narrowing. “There,” he whispered, pointing to a fire escape.

Mark followed his gaze. The metal stairs were still intact, though they looked weathered with rust and age. They led to a second-story window, partially boarded but accessible.

“Good eye,” Mark murmured. “Let’s see if it’s stable.”

They moved toward the fire escape, weaving between abandoned vehicles and patches of tall grass. Reaching the base, Mark tested the ladder, tugging on it gently. The metal groaned but held.
“Think it’ll support us?” Haechan asked, his voice hushed.

“It’ll have to,” Mark replied. He slung his pack over his shoulder and started climbing. The ladder wobbled slightly, but he made it to the first platform without issue. Turning back, he gestured for Haechan to follow.

Haechan hesitated for a moment before climbing up. The metal creaked under his weight, but he kept going, gripping the railing tightly. When he reached the platform, he let out a breath. “So far, so good.”

Mark nodded and moved toward the boarded window. He inspected the planks, running his fingers over the edges. “These were nailed from the inside. Someone didn’t want visitors.”

“Can you pry them off?” Haechan asked, glancing around nervously.

Mark pulled a crowbar from his pack. “Let’s find out.”

With a few firm pulls, the nails began to loosen. The sound of the wood cracking felt too loud in the quiet night, and Haechan kept watch, his knife at the ready.

“Almost there,” Mark muttered, yanking the last plank free. He peeked inside, his flashlight casting a narrow beam into the dark room beyond.

“It’s clear,” he whispered, climbing through the window. Haechan followed, landing softly on the dusty floor.

Inside the hospital, the air was stale and thick with the scent of decay. The hallway beyond the room was dimly lit by moonlight streaming through cracked windows. The walls were lined with faded posters and peeling paint, remnants of the world before.

Haechan swept his flashlight around the room. “This place is giving me major horror movie vibes.” They were in a different part of the hospital than what Haechan had explored.

Mark smirked faintly, his voice low. “You scared?”

“Terrified,” Haechan admitted, though his tone was light.

Mark chuckled softly. “Stay close.”

They moved cautiously through the hallways, their footsteps muffled by the grime-covered tiles. The deeper they went, the more the signs of chaos became apparent—overturned gurneys, shattered medical equipment, and dark stains smeared across the walls and floor.

“This hospital was ground zero for the outbreak,” Haechan whispered.

Mark nodded grimly. “Yeah. If the vials are anywhere, they’ll be in a secure lab or storage area. We’ll need to find a map or directory.”

Haechan told him where he remembered they were as he had definitely seen them before. They just had to find that storage area again.

They reached the central lobby, a cavernous space that echoed faintly with every sound they made. The hospital directory was mounted on the wall, its glass cover cracked but intact. Haechan remembered this place. But he still wanted to see a map so they didn’t go the wrong direction because of him.

Mark shone his flashlight over it, scanning the list of departments. “Research labs are on the fourth floor,” he said.

“Of course, they are,” Haechan muttered. “Nothing’s ever easy.” But at the same time, he remembers the storage room with the vials being on the first floor. “The room I found the vials in was on this floor.” They were now on the first floor.

Mark nodded. “Okay, let’s search and just hope we find it.”

Before heading up, they decided to secure the immediate area. Haechan checked nearby rooms while Mark inspected the exits. They didn’t stray a couple feet from each other though.

Most of the hospital seemed abandoned, though traces of movement—scattered papers, fresh scratches on the walls—hinted at recent activity.

Someone or something must have been there recently.

Mark returned to the lobby, where Haechan was rummaging through a supply closet.

“Anything useful?” Mark asked.

“Bandages, antiseptic, a couple of energy bars,” Haechan replied, holding up the items. “Better than nothing.” It was not the same supply room he recalled. It was further in.

Mark nodded. “We’ll take it. But we need to move soon. The longer we stay here, the higher the chance something finds us.”

Haechan closed the closet and adjusted his pack. “Let’s get to those vials.”

Haechan led the way back through the hospital, his flashlight illuminating the narrow halls. The walk was slow and cautious, every hint of a noise putting them on edge.

When they reached the end of a hallway, they had to turn back because it was the wrong way. They went back to the lobby and headed in a new direction.

The hallway beyond was darker, the air colder. A faint hum echoed through the space, though its source was unclear.

“This is it,” Haechan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay sharp.” He remembered this hall. It was definitely in this direction.

Mark nodded, gripping his weapon tightly. Together, they ventured deeper into the dark hallway, ready to uncover whatever secrets the hospital still held.

As Mark and Haechan crept down the hallway, their footsteps barely audible, a sudden noise-a faint scrape of metal on tile-stopped them dead in their tracks. They froze, eyes darting around the darkened corridor.

Mark held up a hand, signaling Haechan to stop. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as if the building itself was holding its breath. They listened intently, but all was still for a moment.

Then, without warning, a door at the end of the hall crashed open with a loud bang, and a grotesque figure staggered out. It was a zombie-its movements jerky and unnatural, its skin mottled with patches of infection. Its eyes were vacant, bloodshot, and its mouth hung open, dripping with saliva.

Before Haechan could react, the creature lunged at him with shocking speed.

Before it got to him, Mark jumped in between them. It grabbed him by the arm, its jaws snapping shut on his flesh.

"Mark!" Haechan shouted, panic rising in his chest as the zombie sank its teeth deep into Mark's arm.

Mark gritted his teeth against the pain, swinging his baton desperately, trying to pry the zombie off. "Get off me!" he growled, but the creature was relentless.

Haechan didn't think twice. He charged forward, his knife flashing in the dim light as he drove it into the zombie's skull. The creature shrieked once, a high-pitched, unnatural sound, before it collapsed, lifeless.

Mark collapsed to his knees, clutching his arm where the zombie's bite had torn through his sleeve, the wound already beginning to turn a sickly purple. Blood dripped steadily, staining the floor beneath him.

"Mark, no!" Haechan knelt beside him, fear twisting his gut. He could see the way the wound was already swelling, spreading an unnatural blackness. It was happening faster than he had feared.

"I-I'm fine," Mark gasped through clenched teeth, his face pale. But his eyes told a different story-his breath was shallow, his strength already fading.

"You're not fine," Haechan snapped, his voice breaking. He gripped Mark's shoulders, pulling him to his feet. "You have to hold on, just a little longer. I'll get the cure. I'll get it, I swear!"

Mark's grip tightened on his arm, his face contorting in pain. "Haechan... no... don't... risk..." Mark didn’t want Haechan to go alone and risk running into another zombie, but if he didn’t go… Mark might be that zombie.

Haechan's eyes burned with determination as he shook his head.

"I'm not letting you die, Mark. Not like this."

He stood, looking at the hallway ahead
—the room where they hoped the cure was stored. There was no time to waste. He had to get to it before it was too late.

Mark reached out weakly, his voice a strained whisper. "Haechan... don't... come back for me..."

But Haechan was already running.

His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted down the hall, the echoes of his footsteps mingling with the distant groans of more zombies. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn't dare slow down. Not now.

He reached the door to the supply room, gripping the door handle, his hand trembling.

With shaking fingers, he swung the door open. The door slid with a soft hiss, and Haechan bolted inside.

His eyes scanned the shelves, the cabinets-there had to be something. It had to be there.

Something that could save Mark.

His gaze fell on a row of vials, carefully stored on a shelf unit, the labels faded but still readable under the harsh flashlight. There were the white vials and there were the remnants of a black liquid staining the floor.

Barely thinking, he grabbed the first vial he could reach. It had the same pattern he found at the lab in the base. He was desperate. He grabbed more, shoving them into his pack as he looked around for anything that could help.

"Please, please work," he muttered, his hands shaking. He turned to leave but stopped short, his eyes locking onto a small machine on the far counter. A syringe. Perfect.

He grabbed it too, hurrying back out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. He sprinted back down the hallway, his only thought focused on getting back to Mark before it was too late.

Please don't let him change, Haechan prayed silently. Don't let it be too late.

He was trying to stay calm, he really was. But it was so overwhelming and scary. Mark was going to die if this didn’t work. He didn’t really care that he looked a mess, his hair, the tears running down his cheeks, the dirt on his clothes. It didn’t really matter anyway.

As he reached the place he left Mark, he heard the faintest groan-a sound that froze him in his tracks. Zombies were closing in. But Haechan didn't stop. He pushed forward, through the hall, his legs burning with exhaustion.

Mark's life depended on him now.

Nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

Haechan burst back into the hallway where he’d left Mark, his chest heaving from the frantic sprint. His flashlight beam wavered, casting shadows along the grimy walls.

Mark was slumped against the wall, his breathing shallow, his skin slick with sweat. His arm was swollen around the bite, veins darkening and spidering outward. Worst of all, his eyes were flickering—one moment their usual soft brown, the next a pitch-black void.

“Haechan…” Mark rasped, his voice barely audible. “You shouldn’t have come back…”

“Shut up,” Haechan said, dropping to his knees beside him. His hands were shaking as he pulled the vials from his pack, placing them carefully on the ground. “I said I’d save you, and I’m going to.”

Mark’s head rolled back against the wall, his eyes closing for a moment. When they reopened, they were black again. His breath hitched, his hand clawing weakly at the ground. “It’s… too late…”

“It’s not!” Haechan snapped, his voice breaking. He grabbed the syringe, fumbling to load it with the contents of the first vial. His fingers trembled as he pierced the stopper and drew out the liquid, a pale, glowing substance.

The sound of a low growl echoed down the hallway, and Haechan froze, his eyes darting toward the noise. Zombies. They were getting closer.

“Stay with me, Mark,” Haechan whispered urgently, his focus snapping back to the syringe. “Don’t you dare give up on me.”

Mark’s body jerked violently, his head snapping forward. His eyes flashed black again, and this time they lingered, his jaw tightening.

“Haechan…” Mark’s voice was guttural, distorted, as if something else was speaking through him.

“No, no, no,” Haechan muttered, panicking. He pressed the syringe against Mark’s arm, directly above the darkened veins. “This has to work.”

With a deep breath, he plunged the needle into Mark’s arm and pushed the plunger down, injecting the glowing liquid.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Mark’s body went rigid, his back pushing against the wall as a guttural scream tore from his throat. His hands clawed at the ground, his veins pulsing visibly under his skin as the liquid worked its way through his system.

“Haechan!” Mark shouted, his voice filled with pain and desperation.

“I’m here!” Haechan cried, gripping Mark’s hand tightly. He watched helplessly as Mark’s body convulsed, his eyes flickering rapidly between black and brown.

The growls in the distance grew louder, the sound of shambling feet echoing closer.

“Hurry up,” Haechan whispered to the serum, as if willing it to work faster. “Please, just work.”

Mark gasped, his whole body locking up before collapsing back against the wall. His breathing was ragged, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Mark?” Haechan shook him gently, his heart racing. “Mark, wake up!”

Mark’s body had gone limp and lifeless.

“Mark?!” Haechan shook him, panic surging through him like a tidal wave. He pressed two fingers to Mark’s neck, searching for a pulse.

Nothing.

“No, no, no,” Haechan muttered, his voice trembling. He leaned down, pressing his ear to Mark’s chest.

Silence. His heart wasn’t beating.

Tears blurred Haechan’s vision as he shook him harder. “Don’t do this to me, Mark! Don’t you dare leave me!”

The growls from the hallway were growing louder, but Haechan didn’t care. He tilted Mark’s head back, pinched his nose, and gave two quick breaths. Then, he started compressions, pressing down on Mark’s chest with all the strength he could muster.

“One, two, three…” he counted under his breath, his voice shaking. “Come on, Mark. Fight.”

The sounds of the approaching zombies grew louder, the shuffling of their feet almost upon them. Haechan threw a frantic glance down the hallway, then refocused on Mark.

“Don’t you quit on me!” he yelled, slamming his fists down on Mark’s chest in frustration before resuming compressions.

Then, with a sudden, violent gasp, Mark’s body jolted, his chest rising as he sucked in air.

“Mark!” Haechan cried out, relief flooding through him. Mark’s eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, then closed again.

He was alive, but unconscious.

The wave of relief of that spread over Haechan was unimaginable. It felt like his own heart had stopped beating for the moments he was performing CPR.

But, the growls were almost at the corner now. Haechan scrambled to his feet with no time to linger on his relief, grabbing his knife and standing protectively over Mark. The first zombie appeared, its grotesque figure staggering into the dim light of the hallway, the flashlight lying to the side.

Haechan gritted his teeth, gripping the knife tightly. “You’re not getting near him.”

The zombie lunged, and Haechan ducked, driving the blade into its temple. It dropped with a wet thud, but two more immediately took its place. None of them were mutants, thankfully.

He fought with everything he had, the adrenaline dulling the exhaustion in his limbs. He stabbed, slashed, and shoved, his movements desperate and wild. Each zombie that fell seemed to be replaced by another, but he didn’t stop.

Finally, the hallway fell silent again, the floor littered with motionless bodies. Haechan was breathing heavily, blood dripping from his hands and arms. He turned back to Mark, who was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling faintly.

“Okay, okay,” Haechan muttered to himself, pulling Mark’s arm over his shoulder and hoisting him up. “We’re getting out of here.”

He stumbled toward the fire escape, Mark’s weight heavy against him. The ladder groaned as he climbed down, step by agonizing step.

Adrenaline was taking over his body, making him able to do things he never thought he could do. Somehow, he managed to carry Mark down the ladder, dropping him softly to the ground once they were close enough. His body was aching but he didn’t care.

Once they were outside, the cool night air hit him like a splash of water. Haechan dragged Mark away from the hospital, toward a nearby alleyway. He laid him down gently, leaning against the wall as his own legs gave out beneath him.

“You’re alive,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from Mark’s face. “You’re alive, and we’re going to make it.”

For now, they were safe.

Haechan stumbled through the quiet streets once he regained a bit of strength, Mark’s weight heavy against his shoulder. Every step felt like it might be his last, exhaustion weighing him down, but he refused to stop. He scanned the area desperately until his eyes landed on an old, run-down building—a convenience store with a small apartment above it.

“This’ll have to do,” he muttered to himself, forcing his legs to move.

He kicked the front door open and dragged Mark inside, carefully navigating past overturned shelves and scattered debris. At the back, he found a narrow staircase leading up to the second floor. With Mark barely conscious in his arms, it was a struggle to climb, but eventually, he made it to the top.

The apartment was dusty, the air stale, but it was intact. He found a small bedroom with a battered twin bed and gently laid Mark down, his chest still rising and falling faintly.

Haechan crouched beside him, brushing the sweat-drenched hair from Mark’s forehead. “You’re okay,” he whispered, though his voice shook. “We’re going to be okay.”

He pulled a chair up beside the bed, collapsing into it with a sigh. His hands were trembling as he cleaned Mark’s wound with the supplies he’d salvaged earlier. Though the infection had stopped spreading, the wound was angry and swollen. It would definitely need stitches, but they had used those materials when stitching their wrists. He would need a new med kit, which he didn’t have right now. Instead, he just cleaned and wrapped the wound.

Haechan sat back after tending to it, his head resting in his hands. The adrenaline was wearing off now, and the gravity of what had just happened hit him like a freight train. Mark had almost died—his heart had stopped. He literally died for a moment.

“Don’t you scare me like that again,” he whispered, his voice breaking. But of course Mark could not hear him.

Haechan had managed to calm himself down a little bit. His crazed and desperate state had dimmed down, but he was still nervous and concerned.

The hours passed slowly. Haechan stayed by Mark’s side, refusing to sleep despite the weight of his exhaustion. His eyes were fixed on Mark’s face, watching for any sign that he might wake up, his hands were tightly holding the older males.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mark stirred. His fingers twitched, and a soft groan escaped his lips.

“Mark?” Haechan sat up straight, leaning closer.

Mark’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before they slowly found Haechan. His lips parted, his voice hoarse and barely audible. “…Haechan?”

Haechan let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding through him. “You’re awake,” he said, his eyes shining. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” Haechan wanted to hit the man but thought better of it.

Mark blinked, his brow furrowing as he tried to sit up, but Haechan gently pushed him back down.

“Easy,” Haechan said softly. “You need to rest. You almost didn’t make it.”

Mark’s gaze flickered with confusion, then realization as fragmented memories returned. “The… zombie bit me. I… I thought I was done for.”

“You were,” Haechan admitted, his voice tight. “Your heart stopped, Mark. I had to—” He stopped, his throat tightening. “I had to bring you back.”

Mark’s eyes widened slightly, and he reached out weakly, his fingers brushing against Haechan’s hand. “You saved me. Again.”

“Of course I did,” Haechan said, gripping Mark’s hand tightly. “I wasn’t going to let you go.”

Mark’s lips curled into a faint smile, though his exhaustion was evident. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up,” Haechan said, his voice trembling as he tried to keep it light. “You’re stuck with me whether you deserve it or not.”

Mark’s smile lingered as his eyes drifted shut again, his breathing evening out. Haechan let out a sigh, his hand still clutching Mark’s.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, Mark was safe. That was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

When Mark woke again, it was early morning, faint sunlight seeping through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. He shifted slightly, wincing as the pain in his arm flared up.

“Easy,” Haechan said from across the room. He was rummaging through an old supply cabinet, his back turned to Mark. “You’re not fully out of the woods yet.”

Mark blinked at him, his voice scratchy as he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Looking for something to patch you up properly,” Haechan replied, tossing aside a broken tin of food. “Ah, finally.” He pulled out a small med kit, its plastic casing coated in dust.

Haechan brought it over to the bed and set it on the nightstand. Opening it, he inspected the contents with a frown. “It’s not much, but there’s enough here to clean the wound and stitch it up.”

“Stitches?” Mark grimaced, glancing at his arm. The makeshift bandage Haechan had wrapped around it was stained with blood. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” He joked.

Haechan shot him a look, rolling his eyes. “Do you have a better idea? Because unless you’ve got a secret doctor friend hiding somewhere, I’m your best shot.” He had recently done some small stitches for Mark and he thought he did well. It was now fully healed and barely noticeable.

Mark huffed a quiet laugh, though it quickly turned into a wince. “Fine. Go for it.”

Haechan cleaned his hands as best he could with the alcohol wipes from the kit, then grabbed the thread and needle. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over Mark’s arm.

“This is going to hurt,” Haechan warned, his voice softer now. Of course there were no actual meds left in any of their kits. So… Mark would be conscious and feel every pierce and thread. Haechan went through the same thing so he could relate to the pain.

Mark smirked faintly, though his face was pale. “Not my first time. Just do it.” Before meeting Haechan, he had to do a few of his own stitches.

Haechan nodded and got to work. He cleaned the wound again first, pouring antiseptic over it. Mark hissed in pain, his fingers curling into fists, but he didn’t complain.

“Sorry,” Haechan murmured, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“It’s fine,” Mark ground out through gritted teeth.

The stitching process was slow and meticulous. Haechan’s hands were steady despite the weight of the moment, each movement precise. Mark stayed silent, though the occasional twitch of his jaw betrayed the pain he was in.

When Haechan finally tied off the last stitch, he let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He bandaged the wound carefully before sitting back.

“All done,” he said, his voice tinged with relief.

Mark glanced at his arm, the neatly stitched wound now covered with clean bandages. “Not bad,” he said, his tone teasing despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Not bad?” Haechan scoffed, giving him a playful shove on the uninjured shoulder. “That’s professional-level work, and you know it.” He had his bit of training at the base, so he was at a pretty good level.

Mark chuckled weakly, his head resting back against the pillow. “Thanks, Haechan. I mean it.”

Haechan looked at him, his expression softening. “Don’t mention it. Just… try not to scare me like that again, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Mark replied, his smile faint but genuine.

Haechan cleaned up the supplies and moved the med kit to the side. “We’ll rest here for another day or so. You need time to recover before we keep moving, don’t do anything stupid with that arm.”

Mark nodded, his eyes already beginning to drift closed. “Sounds good,” he mumbled, his voice fading.

Haechan sat back in the chair, watching as Mark’s breathing evened out. He glanced at the stitches on Mark’s arm, a small sense of pride swelling in his chest. They had made it this far together, and no matter what lay ahead, he was determined to keep Mark safe.

–

As the day stretched on and Mark slept soundly, Haechan sat at the small, rickety table near the window. The med kit and other supplies were scattered across its surface, but his focus was on a small notebook he’d salvaged earlier. He tapped the pen against the page thoughtfully, glancing back at Mark every so often to check on him.

He’d decided to document what he’d noticed about the cure so far. It wasn’t just about Mark—it was about understanding what they were dealing with.

Observations on Cure Side Effects:
• Heart stops temporarily: Immediate after-effect. Requires CPR to restart. Reviving subject is possible within a short timeframe.
• Prolonged sleepiness: Mark has been asleep for hours. Likely recovery-related. Could last 1-2 days.
• Weakness: Body appears fatigued after revival. Temporary—estimated 1-2 days.
• Wound healing rate: Infection halted entirely, but no accelerated healing. Stitches still required.

Haechan paused, biting his lip as he looked over the notes. He knew these weren’t life-threatening side effects, but the fact that Mark’s heart had stopped still chilled him. If he’d been even a few seconds slower, things could’ve gone very differently.

He sighed, closing the notebook and setting it aside. Standing, he moved back to the bed, sitting down on the edge carefully. Mark stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his breathing steady and calm.

Haechan leaned forward, brushing his hand against Mark’s forehead. His skin was warm, but not feverish. “At least you’re okay now,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.

As if sensing his presence, Mark’s eyes fluttered open slightly. He blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Haechan.

“Hey,” Mark rasped, his voice rough from sleep.

“Hey,” Haechan replied softly, offering him a small smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Mark muttered, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Well, that’s better than feeling like you’re dying,” Haechan teased, though his voice wavered slightly. He looked away, his hand retreating from Mark’s forehead.

Mark noticed the shift immediately. “Haechan?” he asked, his tone more serious now. “What’s wrong?”

Haechan hesitated, his hands clenching in his lap. “You scared me, Mark. When your heart stopped…” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. “I thought I lost you. For real this time.”

Mark reached out weakly, his hand brushing against Haechan’s. “But you didn’t,” he said gently. “You brought me back. You always do.”

Haechan looked at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he admitted quietly.

Mark’s hand tightened around his. “You’re not going to lose me, okay? Not now. Not ever.”

Haechan let out a shaky laugh, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You better keep that promise,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I will,” Mark replied, his gaze unwavering.

For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in their shared space. Haechan leaned forward, resting his forehead against Mark’s.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Haechan whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I won’t,” Mark murmured, his voice just as soft. “I promise.”

The closeness between them lingered, a quiet intimacy that didn’t need words. They stayed like that for a while, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

The soft tension between them hung in the air as they lingered close, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Haechan’s forehead still rested against Mark’s, his eyes closed as he tried to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Mark shifted slightly, his hand still holding Haechan’s. He brought his other hand up, brushing his fingertips lightly against Haechan’s cheek. The touch was featherlight but enough to make Haechan open his eyes, startled by the gentle gesture.

“Haechan,” Mark said, his voice low and raw. “I meant what I said. You’re the reason I’m still here. I don’t take that lightly.”

Haechan’s lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he leaned into Mark’s touch, his cheek pressing against the calloused palm.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Mark continued, his thumb brushing along Haechan’s jawline. “Just… let me show you how much you mean to me.”

Before Haechan could fully process the words, Mark leaned in. The kiss was slow and soft at first, a question rather than a demand. Haechan’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as he melted into it, his hands instinctively reaching for Mark’s shoulders.

Mark’s fingers tightened on Haechan’s waist, his grip firm but not painful. The kiss had already softened into something more tender, their lips moving together with a slow, deliberate rhythm that spoke of comfort and solace in a world gone mad. Haechan’s hands moved up to cup Mark’s face.

“You really should be resting,” Haechan murmured against Mark’s lips, his voice a gentle chide. The teasing quality was still there, laced with warmth and affection.

Mark chuckled softly, his eyes still closed as he leaned into the touch. “Kissing you feels like it's helping,” he replied, his tone equally light. There was a hint of a smile in his voice, a playful challenge.

Haechan’s eyes flickered open, meeting Mark’s gaze directly. The intensity of it made Mark’s heart skip a beat. “Is that so?” Haechan asked, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. The shift in tone sent a shiver down Mark’s spine, and he felt a familiar heat pooling in his belly.

Mark nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Haechan’s. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like… everything else fades away when I’m with you.”

Haechan’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing against Mark’s. Their breaths mingled, warm and steady, creating an intimate bubble of safety around them. “I know what you mean,” Haechan whispered, his hands sliding down to Mark’s shoulders. He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth, then another, each one lingering just a little longer than the last.

Mark’s hands slid up Haechan’s back, fingers splaying wide as they traced slow, soothing circles along his spine. The sensation sent a wave of relaxation through Haechan, and he sighed deeply, his body sagging slightly into Mark’s embrace. “You feel so good,” Mark murmured, his voice thick with a mix of exhaustion and desire.

Haechan pulled back just enough to look Mark in the eye again, his own eyes darkening with emotion. “You need to take care of yourself, though,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I can’t lose you.”

Mark’s grin was faint but genuine. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his fingers tightening on Haechan’s hips. “Not without you.”

Haechan’s breath hitched at the words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to Mark’s lips. This time, the kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if Haechan was trying to convey all the unspoken feelings that lingered between them. Mark’s hands moved to Haechan’s waist, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

The urgency of their movements was tempered by the tenderness in their touches. Mark’s fingers brushed over Haechan’s side, tracing the curve of his hip before dipping lower, his touch both exploratory and possessive. Haechan let out a soft moan, his hands gripping Mark’s shoulders tightly as he leaned into the touch.

“Mark,” Haechan breathed, his voice strained. The single word held a world of need and longing, making Mark’s pulse quicken. His fingers continued their slow exploration, skimming over Haechan’s lower back before dipping beneath the hem of his shirt.

The skin beneath his fingers was warm and smooth, and Mark’s touch became more confident, his thumb brushing over the small of Haechan’s back in a lazy arc. Haechan shivered, his grip on Mark’s shoulders tightening even more as he shifted closer, seeking more contact.

Mark’s other hand moved to the front of Haechan’s shirt, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons one by one. Haechan’s breath hitched with each button undone, his eyes locked onto Mark’s with an intensity that made Mark’s heart race. When the last button was undone, Mark pushed the fabric aside, revealing Haechan’s chest.

The sight of Haechan’s bare skin under the dim light sent a jolt of arousal through Mark. His fingers moved over Haechan’s chest, tracing the line of his collarbone before moving down to circle a nipple. Haechan let out a soft gasp, his body arching into the touch.

“Like this?” Mark asked, his voice low and rough. His fingers continued to tease Haechan’s nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until Haechan’s breath came in short, shallow pants.

Haechan nodded, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

Mark smirked, the corners of his mouth lifting in a predatory smile. “Your wish is my command,” he teased, using the term affectionately. His fingers moved to Haechan’s other nipple, mirroring the actions from before.

Haechan’s head fell back, his eyes closing as he moaned softly. The sound went straight to Mark’s groin, and he felt his own arousal growing stronger. His hands moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of Haechan’s pants, nudging them down just enough to get better access.

Haechan’s hips twitched involuntarily as Mark’s fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. “Mark,” he groaned, his voice breaking. “Please…”

Mark’s eyes darkened with lust, and he leaned in to capture Haechan’s lips in a bruising kiss. His fingers moved higher, skirting the edge of Haechan’s boxers before dipping beneath the fabric to find the hard length of him.

Haechan let out a strangled cry as Mark wrapped his hand around his erection, stroking him with slow, deliberate movements. His hips bucked into the touch, seeking more friction. “Harder,” he begged, his voice hoarse.

Mark obliged, picking up the pace as he pumped Haechan’s shaft. His free hand moved to Haechan’s hip, holding him steady as he worked him with increasing speed. Haechan’s moans grew louder, his body tensing with the effort to hold back.

“Almost there,” Mark said, his voice harsh with effort. He could feel the tension in Haechan’s muscles, the way his breaths were coming faster, more desperate. He redoubled his efforts, knowing Haechan was close.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Haechan came, his body arching off the bed as he spilled into Mark’s hand. The sight made Mark’s own cock throb painfully in his pants, the delay only heightening his own need.

As Haechan’s breathing slowed, he opened his eyes to find Mark watching him, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “You’re insatiable,” Haechan accused, his voice weak from exertion. Haechan swallowed hard, his body still humming with residual pleasure. “What are you planning, hyung?” he asked, his voice laced with both anticipation and trepidation.

Mark’s hands tightened around Haechan’s waist as he gently guided him onto his lap. Their bodies aligned perfectly, the warmth of their skin meeting in a seamless embrace. Haechan let out a soft gasp as he settled against Mark, feeling the hardness of Mark’s arousal pressing against his own. The sensation was both thrilling and grounding, drawing him deeper into the moment.

Their kiss deepened immediately, a slow burn that communicated more than words ever could. Mark’s lips were firm yet tender, exploring every curve and contour of Haechan’s mouth with a reverence that sent shivers down his spine. Haechan moaned softly into the kiss, his fingers tangling in Mark’s hair, pulling him closer. The scent of their mingled sweat and the faint undercurrent of earthy musk filled the air, creating an intoxicating blend that made Haechan’s head swim.

Mark’s hands moved to cup Haechan’s ass, squeezing gently as he lifted him slightly, adjusting their position for better alignment. Haechan felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through him as he wrapped his legs around Mark’s waist, locking them together in a secure embrace. He could feel the heat radiating from Mark’s body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his fingertips. It was a comfort and a promise all at once.

“Haechan,” Mark murmured against his lips, his voice husky with desire. “You feel so good.”

Haechan’s breath hitched at the endearment, his heart swelling with affection for the man beneath him. He looked into Mark’s piercing eyes, seeing the intensity of his desire mixed with the tenderness that always seemed to accompany their intimate moments. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that made Haechan feel cherished and understood in a way that nothing else ever had.

“Mark,” Haechan whispered back, his voice trembling with emotion. “I want you. All of you.”

Mark’s gaze darkened with pleasure, and he pressed a series of quick, teasing kisses along Haechan’s jawline, down to his neck where he nipped at the sensitive skin. Haechan arched against him, a whimper escaping his lips as Mark’s teeth grazed over the spot that always drove him wild. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core.

“Tell me what you need,” Mark growled, his tone commanding yet gentle. “I want to give you everything, Haechan.”

Haechan whimpered, his resolve wavering as Mark’s words sank in. He needed this connection, craved it like a drug. He reached down between them, guiding Mark’s erection to his entrance. The friction caused a sharp intake of breath, but it was exactly what he needed.

“Please, Mark,” Haechan panted, his voice breaking with urgency. “Fuck me.”

Mark’s grip on his hips tightened, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered Haechan inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, but not painful, a delicious pressure that built slowly until they were fully joined. Haechan cried out, his nails digging into Mark’s shoulders as he adjusted to the fullness inside him. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure that left him dizzy with need.

Mark held still for a moment, letting Haechan get used to the feeling before slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. Each movement was controlled, almost languorous, designed to draw out the pleasure and deepen their bond. Haechan closed his eyes, savoring the rhythm of Mark’s thrusts, the way his cock rubbed against his prostate with each push. It was heaven, pure and simple.

“Look at me, Haechan,” Mark commanded, his voice rough with exertion. “Keep your eyes open. I need to see you.”

Haechan obeyed, meeting Mark’s gaze with a mixture of awe and raw desire. The intensity of Mark’s stare made his insides quiver, adding another layer of intimacy to the act. They moved together in perfect unison, their bodies speaking a language that only they understood.

Mark’s thrusts grew faster, harder. Haechan matched his pace, lifting his hips to meet each plunge, the sound of their flesh slapping together filling the room. The noise was accompanied by their ragged breaths and soft moans, creating a symphony of passion that echoed in the small space.

“Yes, yes, Mark...” Haechan gasped, his voice breaking with each word. “God, you feel so good. So big.”

Mark’s thrusts became more erratic, his control slipping as he neared his peak. His thumb found Haechan’s nipple, rubbing it in quick, firm circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing over him. Haechan cried out, his orgasm building rapidly, threatening to consume him.

“Almost there, baby,” Mark grunted, his hips moving faster, his hand working in tandem with his thrusts. “Come for me, Haechan. Let go.”

The command was enough to tip Haechan over the edge. With a strangled cry, he came hard, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The contractions of his inner walls milked Mark relentlessly, driving him to his own climax. With a final, powerful thrust, Mark buried himself deep inside Haechan and spilled his seed, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

They stayed locked together, their breaths ragged and their bodies trembling with aftershocks. Mark pressed a tender kiss to Haechan’s forehead, his voice thick with emotion.

With everything that had happened in the past couple of days, this was exactly what they needed. A break, a moment to themselves. A little bit of fun. Anything to get their minds off of the events that just occurred.

Chapter Text

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. Mark woke to find Haechan sitting at the table again, the notebook from the day before open in front of him. His pen moved quickly over the paper, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Morning,” Mark croaked, sitting up slowly.

Haechan looked up and smiled softly. “Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Mark replied, rolling his shoulder cautiously. “Arm still hurts, but I think I’ll live.”

“Good,” Haechan said, closing the notebook and walking over to him. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Mark teased, earning a playful smack on the arm—thankfully, the uninjured one.

“Very funny,” Haechan said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We need a plan. This cure—whatever it is—it worked on you. But we can’t just stop there. If we can figure out how to replicate it, we might actually have a shot at ending this thing for good.”

Mark’s smile faded as he considered the weight of Haechan’s words. “You mean finding a way to cure the infected?”

Haechan nodded. “And making sure no one else turns. But the problem is, we don’t have the resources here. That hospital was a lucky find, but we’ll need proper equipment to study what’s left of the samples and figure out how to recreate it.”

Mark leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair. “So, we’re looking for another base?”

“Not just any base,” Haechan clarified. “We need somewhere with an advanced lab. The kind of setup that could still be functional, even after all this time.”

Mark sighed, his gaze distant. “There was a research facility a few towns over, back when things were still normal. I don’t know if it’s still standing, but it might be worth checking out.”

Haechan’s eyes lit up with hope. “If we can find that place and it’s intact, it could be exactly what we need.”

“But it’s not just about making the cure,” Mark said, his tone growing serious. “Once we figure it out, how do we get it to everyone? Most people are scattered, hiding in small groups like we were. And the infected… there are still so many of them.”

Haechan chewed his lip, his mind racing. “If we could find a way to deliver it on a large scale—like in aerosol form—we might be able to neutralize the infected without needing direct contact.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about airborne distribution.”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, warming to the idea. “It wouldn’t work for people who’ve already turned, but it could protect the uninfected and make sure no one else gets bitten. And if we can inject the cure into anyone who’s just been bitten, like you…”

“We could stop this for good,” Mark finished, his voice filled with determination.

Haechan nodded. “But first, we need to get to that facility. And we need to figure out how to get there without drawing too much attention.”

Mark sat up straighter, his expression thoughtful. “We’ll need supplies. Food, water, and maybe better weapons. If we run into another group, we’ll have to stay under the radar until we know we can trust them.”

Haechan leaned forward, his hand brushing against Mark’s. “We’ve made it this far. We can do this.”

Mark’s lips curled into a small smile as he covered Haechan’s hand with his. “Yeah.”

For the rest of the day, they worked on their plan. They gathered what supplies they could from the house—mostly canned goods and a few bottles of water—and inventoried their remaining weapons. Mark cleaned the handgun they’d salvaged, while Haechan carefully packed the remaining medical supplies.

By evening, they had a rough outline of their route: they would stick to the outskirts of towns whenever possible, avoiding major roads and keeping close to natural cover. The research facility Mark remembered was roughly a 2 week journey on foot, depending on what obstacles they encountered.

That night, as they sat together by the small fireplace, Haechan glanced at Mark. “Do you think we’ll really be able to do it? End all this?”

Mark wrapped an arm around Haechan’s shoulders, pulling him close. “If anyone can figure it out, it’s you,” he said, his voice steady. “I believe in you, Haechan. Always.”

Haechan leaned into him, his eyes closing as he allowed himself a moment of peace. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t seem entirely hopeless. Together, they had a chance—not just to survive, but to truly make a difference.

—

The next morning, Mark and Haechan packed their belongings carefully, ensuring they carried only what they truly needed. Each can of food, bottle of water, and spare piece of cloth was scrutinized before being added to their packs. Their weapons, limited but reliable, were cleaned and strapped securely to their bodies.

Standing in the doorway of the small house that had given them temporary refuge, Mark took a deep breath, his gaze scanning the horizon. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady despite the weight of their mission.

Haechan adjusted the straps of his bag, nodding. “Ready.”

With that, they stepped out, leaving behind the safety of the house and venturing once again into the unknown.

The first day passed uneventfully. They stuck to backstreets and wooded trails, avoiding open spaces where they could be seen. The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated by the occasional exchange of observations or jokes to lighten the mood.

By evening, they found a small clearing in the forest to camp. Mark set up a rudimentary perimeter of noise traps using empty cans they’d collected, while Haechan prepared a modest dinner from their supplies. They created a tiny fire that they’d put out quickly. It wasn’t fully dark out yet.

Sitting by the small fire, they went over their route again. “If we keep up this pace,” Mark said, tracing their path on the tattered map they’d found, “we’ll reach the edge of the next major town in about three days. After that, it’s a straight shot to the facility.”

“Assuming we don’t run into trouble,” Haechan added, his tone wry.

Mark chuckled softly. “When do we not run into trouble?”

Haechan smirked, leaning back against his pack. “Fair point.”

The second day brought a stroke of luck. As they made their way through an abandoned stretch of road, they stumbled upon a vehicle parked on the shoulder. It was a rugged pickup truck, dusty and battered but otherwise intact.

“Think it works?” Haechan asked, peering through the cracked window. He was honestly a bit tired of walking everywhere. And running away from things.

Mark checked the gas tank, then slid into the driver’s seat, rummaging under the dashboard. “Only one way to find out,” he said, his tone laced with determination.

After a few moments of tinkering and a bit of wire-splicing, the engine roared to life.

Haechan’s eyes widened. “You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Mark grinned, stepping out of the truck. “You didn’t survive this long without learning a few things. It’s got half a tank—should get us a decent way there.”

They quickly loaded their supplies into the back and climbed inside. The truck offered a sense of security they hadn’t felt in weeks, its metal frame a barrier against the world outside.

The truck cut their journey time significantly. Over the next few days, they made steady progress, stopping only to scavenge for fuel or food when necessary. The landscape shifted from open fields to derelict suburbs, each new stretch of road bringing its own challenges.

One afternoon, as they drove through the outskirts of a small town, Haechan spotted a group of zombies blocking the road ahead. Mark slowed the truck, gripping the wheel tightly.

“Think we can go around?” Haechan asked, his eyes scanning for alternate routes.

Mark shook his head. “Not without drawing attention. We’ll have to clear them.”

The fight was swift but intense. Mark handled the majority of the zombies with his handgun and machete, while Haechan covered him with their crowbar. Mark’s arm was healing steadily and he seemed to be able to fight perfectly well, although Haechan still didn’t want him fighting too much.

By the time the road was clear, they were both panting and streaked with sweat, but alive.

“Still think we’re lucky to have found this truck?” Mark teased as he climbed back inside.

Haechan snorted, his lips curling into a small smile. “It’s better than walking. Barely.”

—

On the fourteenth day, the research facility finally came into view. The massive structure loomed on the horizon, its once-pristine exterior now weathered and cracked. Overgrown vines crept up its sides, and the surrounding area was eerily silent.

Mark parked the truck a safe distance away, cutting the engine. “We’re here,” he said, his voice laced with both relief and apprehension.

Haechan stared at the facility, his mind racing with possibilities. “Do you think it’s still intact inside?”

“Only one way to find out,” Mark replied, his hand resting briefly on Haechan’s shoulder.

They gathered their gear and approached the building cautiously, their weapons drawn. The facility, though ominous, represented hope—a chance to not just survive, but to rebuild a future worth living in.

Mark and Haechan stood at the entrance of the research facility, the air thick with tension. The once-glass doors were shattered, leaving jagged edges around the frame. Vines crept through the gaps, nature reclaiming the structure after years of neglect.

Haechan glanced back at the truck parked in the distance. “If things go south, at least we have a way out.”

Mark tightened his grip on the machete in his hand. “Let’s make sure we don’t need it.”

They stepped inside cautiously, their footsteps crunching on debris scattered across the floor. The lobby was vast and eerily quiet, illuminated by slivers of sunlight filtering through broken windows. Papers were strewn everywhere, desks overturned, and faint smears of dried blood hinted at the chaos that had unfolded here.

“This place must’ve been hit early,” Haechan whispered, his voice barely audible.

Mark nodded. “Looks like they evacuated in a rush… or didn’t have the chance.”

They made their way deeper into the building, following faded signs that pointed toward “Research Labs” and “Storage.” Mark led the way, his machete ready, while Haechan kept an eye on their surroundings.

The first few rooms they entered were ransacked, with equipment either destroyed or missing entirely. Haechan sifted through scattered documents, occasionally pausing to skim over technical jargon that only he seemed to understand.

“We might get lucky and find something intact,” he murmured, pushing a broken monitor off a desk to uncover a binder beneath it.

Mark glanced back at him. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”

“Samples, data, anything that could help us recreate the cure,” Haechan replied. “This place was a cutting-edge research center. If they were working on something before the outbreak, it might still be here.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “And if it’s not?”

“Then we keep looking,” Haechan said firmly, determination lighting up his features.

After an hour of searching, they stumbled upon a set of heavy, reinforced doors marked “Quarantine Area – Authorized Personnel Only.” The keypad next to the doors was smashed, but Mark managed to pry the doors open using a crowbar they’d found earlier.

Inside, the air was stale and heavy, and the room was surprisingly intact. Rows of lab benches lined the space, covered in vials, microscopes, and other equipment. A few computers sat dormant, their screens cracked but not entirely destroyed.

“This is it,” Haechan said, his voice filled with awe. “This is where it all happened.”

He immediately set to work, sifting through the vials and inspecting the equipment. Mark kept watch near the entrance, his eyes scanning the dim hallway beyond.
After a few minutes, Haechan let out a soft exclamation. “Mark, look at this.”

Mark turned, walking over to where Haechan was holding up a vial filled with a faintly glowing liquid. “What is it?”

“It looks like a prototype of the vaccine,” Haechan said, his excitement palpable. “And these notes…” He pointed to a nearby binder. “They detail the process for mass-producing it.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

Haechan nodded. “This could be it, Mark. If we can recreate this formula, we might actually have a shot at ending all of this.”

As Haechan packed the vials and documents into his bag, Mark spoke. “We’ve got what we need, but how do we get it out there? We can’t do this alone.”

Haechan hesitated, his fingers tightening around the straps of his bag. “We’ll need to find a safe place to work—a lab we can control. And eventually, we’ll have to reach out to other survivors, maybe even the base.”

Mark frowned. “The same base we don’t trust?”

“If they’re willing to help distribute the vaccine, we might not have a choice,” Haechan admitted. “But we have to be careful. If they try to exploit it…”

“Then we keep it out of their hands,” Mark finished. “No one’s turning this into a weapon.”

Haechan nodded, his resolve hardening. “Exactly. We’ll figure out who we can trust when the time comes. For now, let’s focus on getting this back to safety.”

As they prepared to leave, a faint noise echoed through the facility. Both of them froze, their eyes darting to the hallway.

“Zombies?” Haechan whispered.

Mark shook his head, listening intently. The sound grew louder—a shuffling, accompanied by low, guttural growls.

“They’re coming,” Mark said grimly, gripping his machete.

“Too many to fight,” Haechan said, already pulling his rifle off his shoulder.

“Then we run.”

With their packs secured, they bolted from the lab, weaving through the hallways as the sound of the approaching horde grew louder. Mark led the way, his machete slicing through the occasional zombie that stumbled into their path.

Haechan fired off a few shots to cover their escape, his aim steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

Bursting out of the facility, they sprinted toward the truck. Mark jumped into the driver’s seat while Haechan climbed into the passenger side, firing at the zombies that had followed them outside.

“Go!” Haechan shouted as the first of the infected reached the truck.

Mark didn’t hesitate, slamming his foot on the gas. The truck roared to life, tearing down the overgrown road and leaving the horde behind.

As the facility disappeared in the rearview mirror, both of them sat in silence, their breathing heavy.

“We did it,” Haechan finally said, clutching the bag on his lap. “We have what we need.”

Mark glanced at him, his expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. “Now we just have to make it count.”

The road stretched ahead of them, filled with uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, they carried hope with them.

Chapter Text

The truck rumbled down the cracked, overgrown highway, the tension inside thick despite the faint hum of the engine. Haechan occasionally glanced down at the bag on his lap, clutching the vials and notes they had risked everything to retrieve. Mark kept his eyes on the road, his grip tight on the wheel.

“We’ll need to find somewhere safe to stop,” Mark said after a long silence.

Haechan nodded. “Someplace quiet. No zombies, no surprises.”

As if fate had other plans, they rounded a bend in the road and slammed on the brakes.

Standing in the middle of the road was a young man, his arms raised in a non-threatening gesture. He was tall and lean, wearing a tattered black jacket and a backpack slung over one shoulder. His dark hair was messy, his face smudged with dirt, but his sharp eyes were alive with intelligence and caution.

Mark exchanged a look with Haechan, then leaned out the driver’s window. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Jaemin,” the man said, his voice calm but carrying a hint of urgency. “I’m not here to fight. I need to talk to you.”

Haechan’s hand hovered near his knife, his eyes narrowing. “Why? What do you want?”

Jaemin pointed to the truck. “I’ve been watching the roads. You look like you know what you’re doing—and you’re well-supplied. My group could use people like you.”

After a tense moment, Mark sighed and gestured for Jaemin to move off the road. “Fine. Get in the back, and no sudden moves.” It was a risky move, but they couldn’t exactly stop and talk in the middle of the road where zombies could attack at any moment. It’d be safer to drive to a more secure location.

Jaemin climbed into the truck bed without argument, keeping his hands visible as they drove a short distance before pulling off into an abandoned gas station.

Inside the station, Mark and Haechan kept their weapons at the ready as they sat across from Jaemin at one of the dusty counters.

“So you’re recruiting?” Mark said, his tone skeptical. “Why us?”

Jaemin leaned forward, his gaze steady. “Because I’ve been watching for people who can survive out here. Most of the others I’ve seen don’t last long. You two, though—you’re capable. My group is small, but we’re working toward something bigger. We need people like you to help." He said. "You're also the only people I can stop and talk to since no one makes it long enough for me to get to.”

Haechan frowned. “What is it you’re working on?”

Jaemin hesitated, then pulled out a folded map from his jacket. “We’re trying to create a vaccine. We have scientists, medics, and engineers, but we’re missing critical resources. Our goal is to produce a cure and spread it to survivors, not hoard it for power like most bases would.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to make your own vaccine? How do you even have the resources for that?”

“We’ve scavenged labs, hospitals, anywhere we could find anything useful. It’s slow progress, but we’re getting there,” Jaemin said. “We just need more hands to speed things up. That’s where you two come in.”

Haechan’s expression darkened as he tightened his grip on the bag in his hands. He and Mark exchanged a look before Haechan spoke.

“What if we told you,” Haechan began carefully, “that we already have the vaccine?”

Jaemin blinked, leaning back slightly in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

Haechan opened the bag, revealing the vials of glowing liquid and the binder of notes. Jaemin’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

“It’s the real thing,” Haechan said. “We just retrieved it from a research facility. We were trying to figure out how to mass-produce it when you showed up.”

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of astonishment and awe. “You’re telling me you’ve already done what we’ve been working toward for such a long time?”

Mark nodded slowly. “We were planning to find a secure lab to work in and people we can trust to help distribute it. But we’ve had… issues with trusting others.”

Jaemin gave them a faint, humourless smile. “I don’t blame you. It’s a dangerous world. But I’m telling you—if you join us, we can make this happen. We’ve got the infrastructure, the manpower, and a network of survivors. You’ve got the cure. Together, we could actually end this thing.”

Haechan and Mark sat in silence for a moment, processing Jaemin’s words.

“How do we know we can trust your group?” Mark finally asked.

Jaemin met his gaze evenly. “You don’t. Not yet. But let me take you to meet Jeno—one of our leaders. He’s nearby, and we’re heading back to our base soon. You can judge for yourselves.”

Haechan glanced at Mark, his fingers drumming lightly against the bag. “It might be worth checking out,” he said quietly. “If they’re legit, this could save us months of work.”

Mark frowned but eventually nodded. “We’ll meet your teammate. But if anything feels off, we’re gone.”

Jaemin smirked faintly. “Fair enough. You won’t regret it.”

As they loaded back into the truck, Mark started the engine and glanced at Jaemin in the rearview mirror. “Just so we’re clear—you step out of line, and this deal’s over.” It was better to be safe than sorry.

Jaemin leaned back in the truck bed, unbothered by the warning. “Understood.”

The truck rolled down the road once more, carrying them toward an uncertain future—and the possibility of a powerful alliance.

—

The truck rolled into a clearing where several buildings stood, fortified with scrap metal, barbed wire, and makeshift barricades. People moved purposefully within the perimeter—some armed with rifles, others unloading supplies or patrolling the edges. The base was modest but clearly well-organized.

Jaemin gestured for Mark and Haechan to stop just before the gates. “Wait here. I’ll let them know you’re with me.”

Mark cut the engine, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel. Haechan sat beside him, gripping the bag tightly.

“You think this is a good idea?” Mark asked, his voice low.

Haechan glanced out at the base, watching as Jaemin exchanged a few words with a guard before waving them through. “It’s worth a shot,” he said softly. “If this place is as organized as it looks, it might be exactly what we need.”

Mark sighed but nodded, restarting the truck and driving inside.

They were led to a central building where Jaemin introduced them to Jeno, the second-in-command of the resistance. Jeno was calm and focused, with a firm handshake and an air of quiet authority.

“We don’t normally let outsiders in so quickly,” Jeno said, his tone neutral. “But Jaemin speaks highly of you two. And if what you’re saying about having the cure is true, this changes everything.”

“It’s true,” Haechan said, placing the bag on the table and opening it to reveal the vials and notes.

The room fell silent as Jeno and Jaemin leaned in to inspect the contents. Jeno’s expression remained composed, but his voice carried a hint of awe. “You actually have it.”

“It works,” Haechan said firmly. “We’ve tested it. But… it wasn’t easy.”

Jeno’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Mark and Haechan exchanged a look before Haechan took a deep breath. “You should tell them,” he said softly. It'd probably be better if Mark said it anyway, but Haechan also didn’t think he’d be able to relive everything and say it all at the same time.

Mark hesitated, his fingers brushing over the faint scar on his arm. “Fine.”

Mark leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “We were at an abandoned hospital getting the vaccine when it happened. There were zombies everywhere, mutated and regular ones. In the chaos, I got bitten.”

Jeno’s expression tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought it was the end,” Mark continued. “I could feel it—the infection spreading. It hurt like hell. My heart stopped right after Haechan gave me the cure. I was gone. Dead.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows shot up, and Jeno’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Haechan picked up where Mark left off. “I didn’t think it worked at first. His heart stopped, his body went limp. But I refused to give up. I performed CPR, and after a few minutes… he came back.” The relief in Haechan's voice even now was very obvious.

Mark nodded. “When I woke up, I was weak, but I wasn’t… turned. I was alive, and the infection was gone. Dealt with.”

The room was silent for a long moment before Jaemin let out a low whistle. “That’s… intense.”

"I'm sorry you two had to go through that." Jeno said softly.

Haechan gave a bitter smile. “It wasn’t just intense—it was terrifying. But it proved that the cure works.”

Jeno leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “If what you’re saying is true, then this cure isn’t just a possibility—it’s a necessity. But mass-producing it won’t be easy.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Haechan said. “We already have the blueprint for making the vaccine, but we need help—resources, manpower, a secure lab. We thought maybe your group could provide that.”

Jeno exchanged a glance with Jaemin before nodding. “If you’re willing to work with us, we’ll do everything we can to make this happen. This is bigger than just us.”

—

Over the next few days, Mark and Haechan integrated into the resistance. They were given a small room to share and spent hours going over their findings with Jeno and Jaemin.

Haechan worked with the group’s medics and scientists, explaining the process of creating the cure while Mark trained with the resistance fighters, helping to strengthen their defenses.

One evening, after a long day of planning, Mark and Haechan sat together on the cot in their room. The bag with the vials rested between them, a constant reminder of the weight they carried.

Mark leaned back, resting his head against the wall. “You think we can trust them?”

Haechan shrugged, his gaze distant. “I think they’re trying to do the right thing. For now, that’s enough.”

Mark reached out, brushing his fingers against Haechan’s. “You saved my life, you know. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.”

Haechan looked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to keep saying that. We’re a team, remember?”

Mark chuckled softly. “Yeah. A team.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Haechan spoke again. “If we pull this off… we could actually end this. No more zombies. No more fear. Just… life.”

Mark squeezed his hand. “Then let’s make it happen.”

--

The soft glow of a lantern lit the small room Mark and Haechan shared, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was quiet except for the faint murmurs of resistance members outside and the occasional rustle of papers as Haechan reviewed some notes from their day’s work.

Mark sat cross-legged on the cot, leaning against the wall as he watched Haechan, his brows furrowed in concentration. He looked exhausted, his hair slightly disheveled and his lips pressed together as he worked.

“You’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep at it,” Mark finally said, his voice gentle but firm.

Haechan glanced up, his lips curving into a small, tired smile. “You sound like me.”

Mark shrugged. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

Haechan set the notes down, rubbing his eyes before turning to face Mark. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up. We’ve come so far, and now we have people depending on us.”

Mark reached out, lightly tugging on Haechan’s wrist. “Hey, we’ve got this. You’ve got this. We’re a team, remember?”

Haechan let out a soft laugh, sitting back on the cot beside Mark. “Yeah, a team. Funny how that word feels so… natural now. I mean, considering how we started.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You mean me being a grumpy loner and you being the talkative, borderline-annoying genius?”

Haechan nudged him with his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Borderline-annoying? I was keeping us alive with my ideas, thank you very much.”

Mark laughed, the sound soft and warm. “I guess you were.” He paused, his gaze turning thoughtful. “I know I always say this, but… I don’t know if I would’ve made it this far without you. Not just because of the cure—because of everything.”

Haechan’s expression softened, and he turned to look at Mark fully. “You don't have to. I know.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them before Haechan spoke again, his voice quieter now. “You know, I used to think surviving was just about making it through the day. But then I met you, and… it started to feel like surviving meant something more. Like it wasn’t just about staying alive—it was about living. With you.”

Mark’s breath hitched slightly, his heart thudding in his chest. He swallowed, his voice low and careful when he finally spoke. “Haechan… I feel the same way. I just… I wasn’t sure if I should say anything.”

Haechan’s lips curved into a small smile, his gaze searching Mark’s. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose what we already had,” Mark admitted. “You’re the person I trust most in this world. And if I screwed things up—”

“You wouldn’t,” Haechan interrupted, his voice steady. “You couldn’t.”

Mark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

Haechan grinned. “Pretty much.”

Mark leaned closer, his forehead lightly resting against Haechan’s. “Good, because I don’t think I can imagine this—any of this—without you.”

Haechan tilted his head slightly, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, the world outside fading away as they finally allowed themselves to give in to the feelings they had both been holding back on letting out.

When they pulled apart, Haechan rested his head on Mark’s shoulder, a content sigh escaping his lips. “So… I guess this means we’re officially more than just a team now, huh?”

Mark wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Yeah. More than a team.”

The quiet settled around them like a comforting blanket. Mark and Haechan sat close on the cot, their hands loosely intertwined, the warmth between them cutting through the chill of the room. Haechan leaned against Mark’s shoulder, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of Mark’s hand.

For a while, they didn’t speak, letting the calm moment stretch. The weight of the world outside felt distant, like it couldn’t touch them here.

Haechan broke the silence first, his voice soft. “You know, I’ve thought about this moment before. What it’d be like to just… stop running and feel safe. To have someone to share that with.” He tilted his head to look at Mark. “I didn’t think I’d ever find it. But then there was you.”

Mark glanced down at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I never thought I’d find it either. I mean, I wasn’t exactly the most open person when all this started.”

Haechan snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Mark laughed quietly, squeezing Haechan’s hand. “Yeah, I deserved that. But you? You broke through all of that. You didn’t give up on me, even when I gave you every reason to.”

Haechan shifted, sitting up slightly so he could face Mark fully. His expression was earnest, his eyes searching Mark’s. “Of course I didn’t give up. You’re… you’re my everything, Mark. You’ve been my constant through all of this chaos, and… I—”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat.

Mark reached up, brushing a strand of hair from Haechan’s face. His voice was quiet, steady. “It’s okay. You can say it.”

Haechan took a breath, his heart pounding. “I love you.” The words came out softly, but they hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Not a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Mark’s eyes widened for a moment before his expression softened, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn’t felt in so long. He cupped Haechan’s cheek, his thumb brushing against his skin.

“I love you too,” Mark said, his voice steady and full of conviction.

Haechan’s eyes shimmered, and a smile broke across his face—small at first, but it quickly grew, lighting up his features. Mark leaned in, kissing him gently, as if to seal the words between them.

When they pulled back, Haechan rested his forehead against Mark’s, their breaths mingling. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a while,” Haechan admitted, a soft laugh escaping him.

“Me too,” Mark replied, his hand still cradling Haechan’s cheek. “Guess we were both just waiting for the right moment.”

Haechan smirked. “Well, we’ve got plenty of time to make up for it now.”

Mark chuckled, pulling him closer until Haechan was practically in his lap. “Yeah, we do.”

Haechan’s hands slid to the back of Mark’s neck, his fingers tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss. Mark responded in kind, his arms tightening around Haechan’s waist, grounding them both in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads still pressed together. Haechan’s cheeks were flushed, and Mark couldn’t help but smile at how radiant he looked, even in the faint light.

“You’re really bad for my focus,” Haechan said, his voice breathless but teasing.

Mark chuckled, his hands resting on Haechan’s hips. “Good thing we’re not working right now.”

Chapter Text

“You’re really bad for my focus,” Haechan said, his voice breathless but teasing.

Mark chuckled, his hands resting on Haechan’s hips. “Good thing we’re not working right now.”

Haechan smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, so you think you can handle me?”

Mark’s grip on Haechan’s hips tightened, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin above his beltline. “Try me.”

Haechan’s breath hitched, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Mark’s ear as he whispered, “What are you going to do about it?”

Mark’s response was immediate. He pushed Haechan gently but insistently onto the cot, following him down with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Haechan’s back met the mattress, and he let out a small gasp as Mark pinned him there, one knee between his legs.

“This is what I’m going to do,” Mark growled, his voice rough with urgency. He captured Haechan’s lips again, this time with more force, his tongue thrusting into Haechan’s mouth with a demanding hunger.

Haechan moaned into the kiss, his hands clutching at Mark’s shoulders. Mark’s weight felt good, solid and reassuring, pressing him into the mattress. He could feel the heat of Mark’s body seeping into his own, melting away any lingering doubts.

Mark’s hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. One hand moved up to cup Haechan’s cheek, the other drifting lower, slipping under the hem of his shirt to press flat against his stomach. Haechan pushed into the touch, his breath coming faster as Mark’s fingertips danced higher, tracing the line of his ribs.

“Like that?” Mark murmured against Haechan’s lips, his voice dripping with sultry satisfaction.

Haechan could only nod, too overwhelmed by sensation to form words. Mark took that as an invitation, his hand sliding further up until it found Haechan’s chest. He hesitated for just a moment, his thumb brushing over the skin.

Haechan’s breath caught as Mark’s fingers brushed against his nipple, circling it teasingly. He whimpered, his hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure surged through him.

“So responsive,” Mark whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Haechan’s chest. “Tell me, are you this eager for everything?”

Haechan bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan. “Only for you,” he managed to say, his voice trembling with need.

Mark’s eyes darkened. “Good answer.”

With that, he shifted slightly, his hand moving to palm Haechan’s chest more firmly. His thumb flicked over the nipple, rolling it between his fingers, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Haechan. He continued the slow, torturous pressure, watching intently as Haechan’s face contorted with pleasure.

“Look at me,” Mark commanded, his voice firm.

Haechan’s eyes snapped open, meeting Mark’s gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. Mark’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.

“That’s it, keep looking at me,” he praised, his voice a velvety caress. “Show me how much you want this.”

Haechan did as he was told, his eyes never leaving Mark’s as he twisted his fingers into the sheets, fighting the urge to writhe beneath him. Mark’s thumb continued its relentless dance, the friction building until Haechan was whimpering uncontrollably.

“You’re doing so well,” Mark cooed, his voice impossibly smooth. “I love seeing you like this. So pretty, so desperate...”

Haechan’s vision blurred with tears of pleasure, his body trembling with the effort of holding still. He could feel the pressure building in his core, the waves of ecstasy crashing over him with increasing intensity. He couldn't believe that had had many other instances like this one together already. Every time felt new and different.

“Please,” Haechan gasped, his voice breaking. “Please, Mark...”

Mark’s fingers lingered on Haechan’s waistband, his touch both gentle and unyielding. The soft fabric of Haechan’s pants brushed against his skin, a tantalizing reminder of what was to come. Haechan’s breath hitched, his anticipation mounting with each passing second.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Mark murmured, his eyes locked onto Haechan’s. “So eager, so desperate for me.”

Haechan’s cheeks flushed deeper, the intensity of Mark’s gaze making him feel exposed in the most positive way. He swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he replied, “Only for you, Mark. Only ever for you.”

Mark’s lips curled into a knowing smile, his fingers deftly working the button of Haechan’s pants. Mark liked to know he was the only one to ever see Haechan this way. No one else would have the pleasure.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the zipper down, revealing the thin fabric of Haechan’s boxers beneath. Haechan’s heart pounded in his ears, his body thrumming with need.

Mark’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing across the sensitive skin above Haechan’s erection. Haechan gasped, his hips arching instinctively against Mark’s touch. “So responsive,” Mark praised. “I love how you react to me.”

Haechan’s eyes fluttered closed, the sensation of Mark’s touch too overwhelming to bear. He could feel the heat radiating from Mark’s body, the intensity of their connection palpable in the air between them. “Please, Mark,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Mark’s lips brushed against Haechan’s ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Patience, love,” he whispered. “I want to savour every moment with you.”

With that, Mark’s hand dipped lower, slipping beneath the waistband of Haechan’s underwear. His fingers encircled Haechan’s erection, stroking him with firm, deliberate strokes. Haechan moaned, his head falling back against the pillow as waves of pleasure coursed through his body.

“That’s it,” Mark encouraged, his thumb brushing over the tip of Haechan’s cock. “Let me hear you. Let me feel how much you want this.”

Haechan’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body shaking with the force of his desire. “More,” he pleaded, his fingers clutching at the sheets beneath him. “Please, Mark, more...” He was still being quiet since they didn't know how thin the walls of this new facility really were. It was literally their first day there.

Mark’s other hand trailed up Haechan’s side, his fingers dancing across the sensitive skin of his ribs. He paused at Haechan’s nipple, circling it teasingly before giving it a sharp pinch. Haechan cried out, his body arching off the bed as the sensation shot straight to his core.

“So eager for my touch,” Mark praised, his voice low and husky. “You deserve to be rewarded.”

With that, Mark shifted his position, his mouth descending upon Haechan’s nipple. He swirled his tongue around the peak. Haechan’s hips bucked, his body trembling with the effort of holding still.

“Yes, Mark,” Haechan gasped, his voice thick with arousal. “Please, I need you...”

Mark’s hand tightened around Haechan’s dick, his strokes becoming rougher, more insistent. Haechan’s vision blurred with tears of pleasure, his body consumed by the sheer intensity of the moment.

“Tell me what you want,” Mark demanded, his voice a growl of authority. “Tell me how bad you need it.”

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. “I need you in me,” he confessed, his voice breaking with vulnerability. “Please, Mark, take me...”

Mark’s lips curved into a satisfied smile, his eyes darkening with lust. “As you wish,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down to Haechan’s entrance.

Haechan’s body tensed in anticipation, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Mark’s fingers probed gently, preparing him with slow, deliberate movements. Haechan bit his lip, his body clenching around the intrusion as he fought to stay still.

“Relax for me, love,” Mark instructed, his voice soothing yet commanding. “Let me in.”

Haechan took a deep breath, his body slowly loosening under Mark’s guidance. Mark’s fingers pressed deeper, spreading him open with practiced ease. Haechan’s hips jerked, his body trembling with the force of his desire.

“Fuck, Mark,” Haechan groaned, his voice raw with need. “I can’t take it anymore...”

Mark’s hand withdrew, leaving Haechan aching for more. He positioned himself between Haechan’s legs, his gaze locking onto Haechan’s as he lined himself up. Haechan’s breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation.

“Ready?” Mark asked, his voice low and seductive.

Haechan nodded, his eyes wide with excitement. “Always for you,” he whispered.

With that, Mark pushed forward, sliding into Haechan with one smooth thrust. Haechan cried out, his body clenching tightly around Mark’s length. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.

Mark paused, giving Haechan a moment to adjust. His hands braced themselves on either side of Haechan’s head, his gaze never wavering from Haechan’s. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice firm yet tender. “Don’t look away.” He ran his hand softly through the younger's hair, relaxing him.

Haechan’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto Mark’s. The connection between them fueled the fire within him, amplifying the sensations coursing through his body. “Mark,” he breathed, his voice filled with reverence.

Mark began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Each stroke of his hips sent ripples of pleasure through Haechan’s body, making him moan and whimper from pleasure. “You feel so good,” Mark praised, his voice rough with emotion. “So tight around me.”

Haechan’s fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, his body arching with each thrust. The pressure building within him was unbearable, a storm of pleasure threatening to consume him entirely. “Mark, please,” he begged, his voice trembling with desperation. “Please, harder...”

Mark’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming deeper, more insistent. Haechan’s body responded with a fervor, his hips meeting Mark’s with increasing urgency. “Fuck, yes,” Haechan cried out, his voice raw with ecstasy. “Don’t stop, Mark, don’t stop...”

Mark’s hands moved to Haechan’s hips, gripping them tightly as he drove into him with relentless precision. Haechan’s mind shattered into a million pieces, the world around him fading away until there was nothing but Mark and the overwhelming pleasure he delivered.

“Come for me, love,” Mark growled, his voice vibrating through Haechan’s body. “Let go for me.”

Haechan’s vision blurred with tears of bliss, his body trembling with the force of his impending release. “Mark,” he gasped, his voice breaking with emotion. “I’m close, so close...”

Mark’s thrusts grew more frantic, his body slamming into Haechan with fierce determination. Haechan’s orgasm ripped through him, his body convulsing with the force of it. “Mark!” he cried out, his voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him.

Mark followed moments later, his own release crashing over him with tidal force. He buried his face in the crook of Haechan’s neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

They lay entwined for several long moments, their bodies slick with sweat and spent passion. Haechan’s fingers traced lazy patterns on Mark’s back, his voice soft and content. “Mark,” he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. “You always know exactly what I need.”

Mark lifted his head, his eyes shining with affection. “Because I know you,” he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. “And I always will.”

—

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the cracked windows of the safe house, casting a golden glow over the room where Mark and Haechan sat, finishing the last of their supplies. Their moment of peace had passed, and it was time to move forward.

Jaemin and Jeno appeared at the door, looking ready to introduce Mark and Haechan to the rest of the resistance group. Jaemin offered a friendly smile, his easygoing nature putting both of them at ease.

“We figured it’s about time you met the rest of our crew,” Jaemin said, stepping aside to let them out. “They’re excited to meet the people who brought the cure.”

Jeno added with a chuckle, “And they’ve been pestering us nonstop since we mentioned you.”

Mark exchanged a look with Haechan, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face, but Haechan reached out to squeeze his hand briefly, grounding him. Together, they followed Jaemin and Jeno down the hall to a larger room that buzzed with activity.

Inside, three more people were working on various tasks. A boy with bright eyes and an easy grin was leaning over a blueprint, making notes with a sharp pencil. Beside him, another was carefully cataloging a box of syringes and medical equipment, his expression focused and precise. Meanwhile, a younger boy, tall and lanky, was unpacking some electronic equipment with surprising efficiency.

Jaemin clapped his hands together to get their attention. “Guys, meet Haechan and Mark. They’re the ones who made this all possible.”

The boy with the blueprint looked up first, his grin widening as he approached. “I’m Chenle,” he said cheerfully, offering his hand. “Welcome to the chaos.”

Mark shook his hand, surprised by the energy radiating off him. Haechan laughed, shaking Chenle’s hand as well.

The one cataloging supplies looked up next, his sharp eyes studying them for a moment before softening. “Renjun,” he introduced himself with a nod. “It’s good to finally meet you. We’ve been working on something like this for months, but you two are way ahead of us.”

“And I’m Jisung,” the youngest said, stepping forward with a shy smile. “I handle most of the tech stuff around here.”

Mark nodded at each of them, impressed by the dynamic energy in the room. “You’ve got a good setup here.”

Chenle laughed. “Good might be a stretch, but we’re surviving.”

Jaemin stepped in, gesturing toward the workstations. “With you two here, we’re hoping we can turn ‘surviving’ into ‘thriving.’ The plan is for us five—” he gestured to himself, Jeno, Chenle, Renjun, and Jisung—“to work on producing the vaccine on a larger scale. You’ve already done the hardest part, creating the cure. Now we just have to figure out how to replicate it efficiently and safely, then distribute it.”

Haechan nodded, stepping forward with a determined look. “I’ll work with you to get everything set up. I’ve got notes on the process, and we can start refining it.”

“Perfect,” Renjun said, already pulling over a notebook. “The sooner we get started, the better.”

Mark leaned back slightly, watching as Haechan seamlessly integrated with the group. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he saw how energized Haechan looked, already diving into the details of their work.

Jaemin nudged Mark’s shoulder lightly. “Looks like he’s in his element.”

Mark chuckled. “Yeah, he is. This is what he was meant to do.”

“And you?” Jaemin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mark shrugged. “I’m here to help however I can. Protect him, protect all of you. That’s my job.”

Jaemin nodded approvingly. “Well, you’ll have your hands full. Once we figure out how to scale this vaccine, we’ll need to start testing it and eventually distributing it. It’s going to take all of us working together.”

Haechan glanced back at Mark, catching his eye. He gave him a small, reassuring smile before turning back to the group, already diving into a discussion with Renjun and Chenle.

Mark felt a swell of pride and affection. He knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but seeing Haechan in his element, surrounded by capable people who shared their mission, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Together, they had a real chance to change everything.

Chapter Text

The brainstorming session began as soon as Haechan and the resistance team gathered around the large table, which was cluttered with notebooks, diagrams, and scattered tools. The energy in the room was palpable as everyone threw out ideas about how to scale the production of the vaccine.

“What if we break the process into parts?” Renjun suggested, flipping through a notebook. “We could assign different components to different stations, like an assembly line.”

Chenle frowned, shaking his head. “It sounds efficient, but we don’t have enough equipment to make that work right now. The refining process needs specialized tools.”

“What about combining resources with another group?” Jeno asked. “There are rumours of another base not far from here. If we pooled our tech, we might be able to get what we need.”

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “That’s risky. If they don’t trust us, we could lose everything we’ve worked for. We don’t know how other groups operate.”

Haechan tapped a pen against his notebook, deep in thought. “We need something mobile,” he said suddenly, looking up. “Not just a static lab. If we’re going to produce enough to distribute, we have to think about portability. A setup that can move with us if needed.”

Mark, leaning against the wall, chimed in. “Like a traveling lab? That could work. We’d avoid being stationary for too long, which would keep us safer from zombies or other hostile groups.”

Jisung perked up. “I’ve been working on some portable tech designs. They’re rough, but with the right materials, we could build something small enough to transport but efficient enough to process the vaccine in batches.”

Everyone paused, considering the idea.

“It’s ambitious,” Renjun said slowly, “but it might be the best option. If we can rig something portable, we won’t need to rely on a fixed location or other bases.”

Haechan’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. And we could test it as we go. We just need to gather the right supplies.”

“Which means scavenging,” Mark said grimly.

Jaemin nodded. “We’ve got some leads on supply caches. If you’re willing, we could split up into teams—some to gather materials and others to start building a prototype here.”

The group fell into a rhythm, listing out the equipment and ingredients they would need. They would have to find durable, sterilizable containers, energy sources to power the portable equipment, and additional vials for storing doses of the vaccine.

Hours passed as they brainstormed, with ideas tossed around and debated until finally, Jisung stood up with a wide grin, holding up a rough sketch. “This! A collapsible centrifuge powered by a modified generator. It’s small, light, and efficient.”

Renjun leaned over the sketch, nodding. “If we pair that with a compact distillation unit, we could refine the vaccine on the go.”

“And for mixing and preparing the doses, we can adapt a portable med kit,” Chenle added.

Haechan smiled, his confidence growing. “It’s perfect. We’ll need to test each piece as we build it, but this could actually work.”

The group exchanged looks, their earlier tension easing into excitement.

“We have a plan,” Jaemin said, his voice firm. “Tomorrow, we’ll split up to start gathering the parts we need. Once we’ve got everything, we’ll test this setup and get the vaccine rolling.”

Mark caught Haechan’s eye from across the room and gave him a subtle nod. They were one step closer to their goal, and though the road ahead would be challenging, for the first time, it felt like they were truly making progress.

As everyone retired to their respective quarters, Mark and Haechan lingered in their shared space. Haechan sprawled on a makeshift bed, scribbling notes, while Mark leaned against the windowsill, gazing out into the dark streets.

“You’re really something,” Mark said after a while, his voice soft.

Haechan looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“This,” Mark said, gesturing to the notebook in Haechan’s lap. “Your brain. The way you came up with all of this. It’s… incredible.”

Haechan flushed slightly, setting the notebook aside. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’ve kept us alive. And this? It’s a team effort.”

Mark turned to face him, his expression serious. “Maybe, but it wouldn’t work without you. You’re the heart of all this, Haechan.”

Haechan’s gaze softened. “And you’re the one who makes sure that heart keeps beating.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, filled only with the hum of distant conversation and the occasional creak of the old building.

Haechan broke the quiet. “We’re going to change the world, Mark. I know it.”

Mark nodded, his confidence unwavering.

Haechan also nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as they settled in for the night, ready for the challenges to come.

The next morning, the team convened to finalize their supply-gathering mission. Haechan and Mark volunteered to head out with Jaemin and Renjun to search for materials needed for the portable vaccine setup. They divided responsibilities: Jaemin and Renjun would focus on finding mechanical parts and energy sources, while Haechan and Mark would look for medical supplies, sterilizable containers, and anything that could aid in vaccine production.

Before leaving, Haechan approached Jaemin. “I’d like to run some tests on Mark’s blood before we go,” he said. “It’s possible the cure had lingering effects we should be aware of.”

Jaemin nodded. “Good idea. The lab’s all yours.”

Haechan and Mark found themselves back in the small lab, the equipment humming faintly. Mark sat on a stool, rolling up his sleeve as Haechan prepped a syringe.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Haechan asked, glancing up at him.

Mark chuckled softly. “I’ve been through worse. Go ahead.”

With practiced precision, Haechan drew a sample of Mark’s blood and transferred it into a vial. He slid it under the microscope, adjusting the focus as Mark watched him work.

“What are you expecting to find?” Mark asked.

“Hopefully nothing alarming,” Haechan murmured. “But the cure could have caused changes to your system—positive or negative. If there’s something unusual, it’s better to know now.”

As he studied the sample, Haechan’s brows furrowed.

“See something?” Mark asked, leaning closer.

“There’s… a mutation,” Haechan said slowly. “Your blood cells are different now. They’ve adapted to the virus in a way I’ve never seen. It’s like they’ve been fortified—stronger, faster at regenerating. The cure didn’t just neutralize the virus; it enhanced your immune system.”

Mark tilted his head. “So, I’m… healthier than before?”

“More than that,” Haechan replied, his voice tinged with awe. “Your blood might be the key to refining the vaccine. If we can replicate the way your system adapted, we could make it even more effective.”

Mark smirked. “Guess I’m a walking miracle, huh?”

Haechan’s lips quirked into a smile. “You always have been.”

With the test complete and the results recorded, they joined the others, ready to head out.

The group set off, moving cautiously through the streets. The city remained eerily quiet, though the occasional distant groan of zombies reminded them to stay alert.

Jaemin led the way, his sharp eyes scanning for any signs of danger. “There’s a mechanical shop a few blocks from here,” he said. “Renjun and I will start there. You two should head toward the pharmacy down the street.”

“Got it,” Mark replied.

The group split up, Haechan and Mark navigating toward the pharmacy. The streets were littered with debris, overturned cars, and the remnants of what had once been bustling life.

“Feels weird being back out here,” Mark said, his hand resting on the hilt of his machete.

Haechan nodded, gripping his bat tightly. “After spending so much time in relative safety, it’s easy to forget how dangerous it is out here.”

When they reached the pharmacy, the door was slightly ajar. Mark pushed it open cautiously, his weapon raised. Inside, the shelves were ransacked, but a few items remained: boxes of gauze, alcohol wipes, and a couple of sterilizable containers.

“Great,” Haechan whispered, grabbing a box of syringes.

As they gathered supplies, a noise from the back of the store made them freeze.

“Did you hear that?” Mark whispered.

Haechan nodded, his grip tightening on the bat. “Stay close.”

They moved toward the sound, their steps silent. When they turned the corner, they found a lone zombie stumbling through a pile of broken glass.
Mark moved quickly, dispatching it with a swift blow to the head.

“Still got it,” he said, wiping his blade.

Haechan smirked. “Show-off.”

After clearing the pharmacy, they regrouped with Jaemin and Renjun. The two had managed to find a small generator and some tools at the mechanical shop.

“We also spotted a truck that might still work,” Jaemin said, pointing to a nearby alley.

The group approached the vehicle, a sturdy-looking pickup truck. Renjun popped the hood, inspecting the engine.

“Looks like it’s in decent shape,” he said. “We’ll need to siphon some gas, but it should get us where we need to go.”

Haechan glanced at Mark, his eyes lighting up. “If we can get this running, it’ll cut our travel time in half.”

Mark grinned. “Let’s make it happen.”

As Jaemin and Renjun worked on the truck, Mark and Haechan kept watch, their weapons ready.

Haechan glanced over at Mark, a playful glint in his eyes. “So, Mr. Miracle, ready for a road trip?”

Mark chuckled. “As long as you’re riding shotgun, I’m good to go.”

Their banter eased the tension, a reminder that even in the face of uncertainty, they had each other.

By the end of the day, the truck was ready to go. Supplies loaded and spirits cautiously high, they prepared to set off, their journey back on track with renewed determination.

The rumble of the truck echoed as they drove through the forest and toward the resistance base. The journey was quiet, each of them exhausted from the day’s events but relieved to have made it back safely. When they pulled up to the secure gates, Chenle and Jisung were already there, waving them in.

“You made it!” Jisung exclaimed as the truck came to a stop.

“Of course we did,” Jaemin replied with a grin, hopping out. “We’re professionals.”

Renjun rolled his eyes, stretching as he got out of the passenger seat. “More like lucky.”

Mark and Haechan climbed out of the truck as well, carrying some of the lighter supplies while Jaemin and Renjun called for the others to unload the rest. Inside the base, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. After times of tension, it felt good to be back.

Jaemin clapped his hands once the supplies were stored. “Alright, let’s save the actual work for tomorrow. Tonight, let’s unwind a bit.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “What’s Jaemin up to? He’s never this generous.”

“Hey!” Jaemin protested. “I can be fun!”

“Sure, and I can do a hundred pushups,” Chenle shot back, earning laughter from the group.

Later that night, they gathered around a makeshift table in the common room, plates of reheated canned food in hand. The mood was light, the air filled with the warmth of camaraderie.

“So,” Jisung began, looking at Mark and Haechan, “how’d you two end up together during all this?”

Haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You want the short version or the long version?”

“Long,” Renjun said, taking a sip from his mug.

Mark chuckled. “It all started with my apartment,” he said. “I saved him from a swarm of zombies at the beginning of the apocalypse and sheltered him in my apartment. He was injured too so I had to care for him.”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “You’re going to hold that against me forever, huh? For the record, I’m sure I could have stitched myself up.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you decided to stay,” Mark teased. They both knew Haechan would not have been able to care for his own wound that well at that time.

“Well,” Haechan said, his tone softening, “I figured out pretty quickly that you were the one person I wanted to stick with. I mean, look at us now. We survived together, didn’t we?”

The group smiled at their banter.

“What about you guys?” Mark asked, shifting the spotlight. “How’d you all come together?”

Jaemin leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Renjun and I were neighbors before all this. When the outbreak started, we stuck together. We had to fight our way out of our apartment complex—it was chaos. We barely made it.”

Renjun nodded. “After that, we kept moving, scavenging where we could. Eventually, we ran into Chenle and Jisung.”

Chenle took over, gesturing toward Jisung. “We were both living on the outskirts of the city. When the outbreak reached us, we barricaded ourselves in a community center with a few others. It worked for a while, but eventually, the zombies got in. Jisung and I were the only ones who made it out.”

Jisung’s voice was quieter as he added, “That’s when Jaemin and Renjun found us. We were lucky they did.”

“And the base?” Haechan asked.

Jaemin shrugged. “Pure chance. We stumbled on this place while trying to escape a horde. The people here took us in, and over time, we started building what we have now. It’s not perfect, but it’s home.”

“What about you, Jeno?” Mark asked.

Jeno leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “My story’s not as exciting,” he said with a small shrug. “I was part of a military group early on, helping to set up evacuation zones. But things went south fast—too many infected, not enough resources. I barely made it out alive when the zone got overrun.”

He paused, glancing at Jaemin. “I ran into this guy a few weeks later while scavenging. He convinced me to come back to the base, and, well… here I am.”

Jaemin grinned. “I’m very convincing.”

“More like stubborn,” Jeno teased, earning chuckles from the group.

When it was Mark and Haechan’s turn to share more details, they recounted their journey together—starting in Mark’s apartment, fighting their way through cities, and eventually making their way to the first base they’d stayed at.

“We didn’t trust the first base,” Haechan said. “Something about the way they operated didn’t sit right with us. They treated people like assets, not survivors.”

Mark added, “So when we found out about this resistance through Jaemin, it felt like our best chance.”

The group listened intently, nodding as the pieces of their individual stories began to weave together into a collective one.

As the night stretched on, the stories gave way to lighter conversation and laughter. Haechan nudged Mark as they cleared the table. “Feels good to be part of a real team, doesn’t it?”

Mark smiled. “Yeah. It does.”

They caught Jaemin’s eye, and he gave them a knowing grin. “Welcome to the family,” he said, raising his mug in a mock toast.

Mark and Haechan exchanged a glance, silently agreeing: they’d made the right choice joining this group.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the group gathered in the main workspace, a large room repurposed from what used to be a cafeteria. Tables were lined with equipment scavenged from labs, hospitals, and even junkyards. The faint hum of makeshift generators powered the lights and equipment.

Jaemin stood at the front, a whiteboard behind him covered in notes and diagrams they’d brainstormed the night before. “Alright, team,” he began, tapping the board with a marker. “This is it. We’ve got the materials, we’ve got the formula, and now it’s time to see if we can actually replicate this vaccine on a larger scale.”

Haechan stepped forward, holding up a vial of Mark’s synthesized blood. “This is our starting point. If we’re right, this sample contains the key properties we need to create more doses. It’s a long shot, but it’s the best one we’ve got.”

Mark stood next to him, offering a supportive nod. “No pressure, though,” he joked, lightening the mood.

The team broke into their roles. Haechan and Renjun took the lead in processing the blood sample and isolating the active components. Jeno and Jaemin handled the equipment, ensuring the machines were calibrated and functional. Chenle and Jisung worked on inventory, organizing the materials to ensure nothing critical was missing.

Hours passed as the group worked tirelessly. The room buzzed with quiet conversation, the occasional clink of glass, and the hum of centrifuges.

Renjun peered into a microscope, adjusting the focus. “I think we’ve got something,” he said, motioning for Haechan.

Haechan joined him, eyes lighting up as he confirmed Renjun’s observation. “The formula is stabilizing,” he said excitedly. “We’re one step closer.”

Jeno looked up from his station. “Does this mean we’re ready to test it?”

“Not yet,” Haechan replied. “We need to replicate it first and ensure it holds up under different conditions. But this is a good sign.”

Jaemin clapped his hands together. “Then let’s keep at it. If we can pull this off, we’re going to change everything.”

By the end of the day, the team had managed to produce a small batch of the vaccine. It wasn’t much—just a few vials—but it was enough to prove that the process worked.

Haechan held up one of the vials, turning it in his hand as the others gathered around. “We did it,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “We actually did it.”

Mark placed a hand on his shoulder, a proud smile on his face. “Told you we would.”

Jaemin grinned. “This is just the beginning. Now we scale up.”

Chenle, ever the optimist, added, “And then we save the world.”

The group laughed, the weight of their accomplishment sinking in. For the first time in a long while, they felt hope—not just for themselves, but for everyone still out there.

That evening, they reconvened to discuss the next phase.

“We have to figure out distribution,” Jaemin said, pacing as he spoke. “It’s not enough to make the vaccine. We need to get it to people who need it.”

Jeno nodded. “We’ll also need to gather more supplies if we’re going to scale up production. Hospitals, pharmacies, even abandoned labs—wherever we can find what we need.”

Haechan added, “And we’ll have to test the vaccine further to ensure it’s safe for mass use. We can’t afford mistakes.”

Mark leaned forward. “We’ll need a plan to deal with the infected, too. If we’re going to distribute this, we’ll have to clear paths and secure safe zones.”

The group agreed, their determination unwavering. The journey ahead would be long and dangerous, but they were ready to face it together. For the first time in years, they had a purpose beyond survival.

And for the first time, they believed they could win.

The next morning, the team gathered again, energy renewed by their success the previous day. A map of the region was spread out on the table, marked with potential supply locations and infected zones.

Jisung pointed to a spot on the map near the edge of the city. “There’s a hospital here that might still have some of the equipment we need. It’s risky, but it’s our best shot at restocking.”

Chenle leaned over the map. “We should also hit this old warehouse. There were rumours it stored medical supplies before everything went to hell.”

Renjun nodded. “If we split into two teams, we could cover more ground and save time. But we’d need to be careful. These areas are likely crawling with infected.”

Mark chimed in, “Haechan and I can take the hospital. We’ve already been through worse. Plus, Haechan knows what equipment to look for.” Compared to the others in the group, Haechan and Mark had definitely had the most and worst experiences with zombies.

Jaemin considered it, then nodded. “Alright. Jeno and I will take the warehouse with Chenle and Jisung. Renjun, you’ll stay back to keep working on refining the process and securing the vaccine we’ve already made.”

“Let’s not waste time, then,” Jeno said, already grabbing his gear.

Mark and Haechan set out later that morning, the weight of their task heavy but familiar. The streets were quieter than expected, though the occasional growl of a nearby infected kept them on edge.

As they approached the hospital, Mark glanced at Haechan. “You ready for this?”

Haechan gave a small smirk. “I’d say no, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Mark chuckled, pulling his machete from its sheath. “Stick close.”

The hospital loomed ahead, its windows broken and doors ajar. Inside, the air was stale, and every step echoed through the abandoned halls. The eerie quiet was broken only by the occasional creak of settling debris.

Haechan held a flashlight steady as they navigated through the building, scanning every corner for movement. “We need centrifuge tubes, syringes, anything that could help us process and distribute the vaccine.” Although he was acting as though nothing was wrong, he was still pretty shaken from the last time they were in a hospital.

Mark nodded, keeping an eye out for threats. “Let’s check the lab on the second floor. If it’s intact, it might have what we need.” He also kept his eyes on Haechan, making sure he was alright.

The lab was partially ransacked but still held some useful equipment. Haechan quickly got to work, carefully packing items into a sturdy bag while Mark kept watch.

“Almost done,” Haechan whispered, his voice tense.

But as he spoke, a low growl echoed from the hallway. Mark’s grip tightened on his machete as a mutated zombie shambled into view. Its grotesque form moved with unnerving speed, its clawed hands scraping the walls as it lunged.

“Move!” Mark shouted, stepping in front of Haechan who had basically frozen in place.

The fight was quick but brutal. Mark swung his blade with precision, dodging the creature’s attacks while Haechan frantically searched for something to defend himself. Finally, with a well-aimed swing, Mark decapitated the zombie, its body collapsing with a sickening thud.

Haechan let out a shaky breath. “That… was too close.”

Mark turned to him, concern etched on his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Haechan replied, his voice steadier now. “Thanks to you.”

Mark gave him a small smile. “Always.” He placed his hand comfortably onto Haechan’s shoulder in reassurance.

By the time they returned to the base, the sun was beginning to set. The others were already back, unloading their own haul of supplies.

Jaemin greeted them with a relieved smile. “You made it. How’d it go?” Their crew had not run into any zombies surprisingly. Haechan and Mark seemed to have bad luck and attracted all the zombies.

“Eventful,” Mark said, glancing at Haechan. “But we got what we needed.”

Haechan held up the bag. “This should keep us going for a while. There’s enough here to produce a larger batch of the vaccine.”

Chenle let out a cheer. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Renjun stepped forward, inspecting the supplies. “Great work. We’ll start processing this tomorrow.”

Later that evening, after the supplies had been stored and the group had eaten, Mark and Haechan sat together in a quiet corner of the base.

“You were amazing today,” Mark said, his voice soft.

Haechan chuckled. “You mean amazing at almost getting us killed?”

“No,” Mark said firmly. “You stayed calm, you got the supplies, and you trusted me to handle the rest. That’s what makes us a good team.”

Haechan smiled, leaning his head against Mark’s shoulder. “I’m just glad we made it back. Every step forward feels like we’re actually getting closer to fixing all of this.”

Mark wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. “We’ll get there.”

The two sat in silence for a while, the weight of the day melting away as they found comfort in each other. For now, they allowed themselves to rest, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges—and new hope.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. With the supplies Mark and Haechan brought back, and the equipment from the warehouse, the group finally had everything they needed to produce the vaccine on a larger scale.

Renjun worked tirelessly, ensuring the formula was stable and could be mass-produced. Chenle and Jaemin handled sterilizing the workspace and packaging the doses, while Jisung and Jeno helped with any heavy lifting or logistics.

Haechan and Mark spent their time in the lab, working closely with Renjun. Haechan’s meticulous notes and understanding of the vaccine process were instrumental in ensuring nothing was missed. Mark’s steady presence and quick thinking made him invaluable when it came to troubleshooting unexpected problems.

By the end of the week, the first full batch of vaccines was complete. Forty doses sat in neatly packed vials, glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Jaemin let out a triumphant laugh. “We did it!”

Jeno clapped him on the back. “Now we just have to figure out how to get these out there.”

The group decided to test the vaccine on themselves first. If it worked, their blood would carry the same immunity Mark’s did. It was both a symbolic and practical step, showing their trust in the process and ensuring they were protected.

One by one, they vaccinated themselves. Haechan was the first, sitting calmly as Renjun administered the injection. Jeno followed shortly after, giving Haechan a reassuring nod as the needle pierced his skin.

Jisung shivered as he rolled up his sleeve. “Here’s hoping this doesn’t hurt too much.”

“It’s a small price to pay,” Chenle quipped, though his grin faltered when it was his turn.

Afterward, they monitored themselves closely, taking blood samples every few hours. By the next day, the results were clear: their blood now carried the same immunity markers as Mark’s, meaning they couldn’t be infected.

Mark looked at the results with a grin. “We’re all immune. It worked.”

Haechan smiled, the weight of weeks of uncertainty lifting from his shoulders. “This is it. We’re the proof the vaccine works.”

Over the next few days, the group focused on how to distribute the vaccine. The challenge was immense: the world was still overrun with zombies, and survivors were scattered.

Chenle suggested finding nearby survivor camps and starting small. “If we vaccinate groups close to us, word will spread. People will come to us.”

Jeno countered, “But we’ll need to set up a proper safe zone for that. Otherwise, we’ll just attract trouble.”

Jaemin tapped the map on the table, pointing to an old broadcasting station in the next city. “If we can get this place operational, we can send out messages to survivors. Let them know about the vaccine and where to find us.”

Renjun frowned. “We’ll also need more supplies. The batch we have now is a good start, but if we’re serious about vaccinating survivors, we’ll need to scale up production.”

Mark leaned back in his chair. “And what about the zombies? If we vaccinate enough people, we can prevent further infections, but the ones already turned will still be out there.”

Haechan spoke up, his tone firm. “One step at a time. Right now, we focus on protecting the living. Once we have enough people vaccinated, we can organize efforts to eliminate the remaining zombies.”

Jaemin nodded. “Agreed. First, we secure the broadcasting station. Then we focus on expanding production and building a safe zone.”

That evening, after everyone had gone to their rooms to rest, Mark and Haechan lingered in the common area. The weight of their accomplishments and the road ahead settled heavily in the quiet room.

Mark broke the silence. “We’re actually doing it, Haechan. We’re making a difference.”

Haechan smiled softly, leaning against him. “For the first time since all of this started, it feels like there’s hope again. Real hope.”

Mark wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “We’re going to change everything.”

As they sat there, the sounds of their friends laughing faintly in the background, the future didn’t feel so bleak anymore. It wasn’t just about survival now—it was about rebuilding.

And for the first time in months, the thought of tomorrow wasn’t terrifying. It was exciting.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the group gathered in the main room, the map spread across the table. The plan was clear: they would travel together to the broadcasting station Jaemin had pointed out. From there, they could use the equipment to send out messages to other survivors.

Mark took charge, his voice calm but firm. “It’ll be a two-day journey, mostly through the outskirts of the city. We’ll avoid the main roads to minimize zombie encounters, but it’ll slow us down. Once we get there, we’ll need to clear out the building before we can even think about setting up.”

Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And what if the equipment doesn’t work?”

“We’ll make it work,” Jeno said confidently. “We’ve gotten this far.”

Jaemin nodded. “If we stick together, we’ll be fine. This group’s already faced worse.”

Haechan added, “And once we’re set up, we can organize supply runs to ramp up vaccine production. This is the best shot we’ve got.”

After double-checking their supplies, they set off.

The streets were eerily quiet as the group moved cautiously through the city. Buildings loomed on either side, their windows shattered and walls stained with time and blood. The occasional distant groan of a zombie kept them on edge, but they moved quickly and quietly, avoiding unnecessary conflict.

Mark and Jeno led the group, their weapons ready, while Jaemin , Jisung, and Renjun kept to the middle, carrying the most sensitive supplies. Haechan and Chenle brought up the rear, their eyes scanning for any signs of danger.

By midday, they stopped to rest in an abandoned shop. Haechan handed out water and rations while Jaemin reviewed the map again.

“We’re making good progress,” Jaemin said, tracing their route. “If we keep this pace, we should reach the station by tomorrow evening.”

Chenle leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs. “Assuming nothing decides to try and eat us along the way.”

Mark smirked. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

Haechan gave him a look. “Let’s not jinx it, hero.”

The sun was beginning to set when they heard it—a faint shuffling sound coming from a nearby alley. Everyone froze, their weapons at the ready.

Mark motioned for silence and crept forward, peering around the corner. A group of zombies, about five in total, was wandering aimlessly near a collapsed fence.

“We can take them,” Jeno whispered, gripping his bat.

Jaemin nodded. “Quick and quiet.”

The group moved with practiced precision. Mark took the lead, driving his blade into the skull of the nearest zombie. Jeno and Haechan followed, dispatching two more with swift blows. Renjun and Jaemin finished off the last two before they could react.

As the final body hit the ground, Jisung let out a relieved breath. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Haechan said, scanning the area. “I don’t want to be out here when it gets dark.”

They found shelter in an old office building, barricading the doors and setting up camp in a room on the second floor. The space was cramped, but it was secure.

As the group settled in, Mark and Haechan sat together near the window, their eyes on the darkened streets below.

“This feels…different,” Haechan said quietly.

Mark glanced at him. “How so?”

“Before, it was always about surviving. Just getting through the day. Now we’re working toward something bigger. Something that could change everything.” It was also strange to travel with a bigger group than just the two of them.

Mark nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s still dangerous, but it feels…worth it. Like we’re finally taking control.”

Haechan leaned his head against Mark’s shoulder, his voice soft. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Mark wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to. We’re in this together, remember?”

For a moment, the chaos of the world outside faded, replaced by the quiet warmth of their connection.

The group stayed the night there.

By sunrise, the group was back on the move. The outskirts of the broadcasting station were visible in the distance, its tall antenna a stark silhouette against the horizon.

Jaemin grinned, pointing it out. “There it is. Almost there.”

Chenle groaned. “Finally. My feet are killing me.”

Mark chuckled. “Don’t get too comfortable. We still have to clear it out once we’re inside.”

As they approached, the group grew more cautious, their weapons ready. The building looked intact, but the darkened windows and overgrown surroundings suggested it hadn’t been touched in years.

Haechan glanced at Mark, his grip tightening on his weapon. “Ready?”

Mark gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course.”

With that, they pushed forward, ready to face whatever awaited them inside.

The group approached the broadcasting station cautiously, their movements silent and deliberate.
The main entrance was locked, but Jeno managed to force it open with a crowbar. The door creaked loudly, and everyone tensed, their weapons drawn.

Mark stepped inside first, sweeping his flashlight across the room. The lobby was eerily empty, dust floating in the beams of light. Broken chairs and desks were scattered around, but there were no immediate signs of zombies.

“Looks clear,” he whispered, motioning for the others to follow.

Jaemin consulted the map he’d found in an old tourist guide. “The main broadcasting room should be on the top floor. We’ll need to check each level on the way up.”

They moved as a unit, clearing rooms one by one. The first two floors were uneventful—empty offices and storage rooms filled with outdated equipment.

When they reached the third floor, however, they heard it: the unmistakable groan of a zombie.
Mark held up a hand to stop the group. “Stay back. I’ll handle it.”

Haechan stepped forward, his voice low but firm. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

Mark gave him a small smile, and they moved in tandem, their weapons at the ready.

The zombies on the third floor were fewer than expected—just a handful trapped in what appeared to be a break room. They moved sluggishly, their decayed forms barely functional.

Mark and Haechan worked seamlessly, dispatching them quickly and efficiently. The rest of the group joined in to help clear the remaining rooms.

Renjun examined the floor once they were done, wrinkling his nose at the stench. “That could’ve been worse.”

Chenle leaned against the wall, catching his breath. “Can we just agree that zombies are never going to smell any better?”

Jaemin ignored the comment, pointing toward the staircase. “Let’s keep moving. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can start working.”

By the time they reached the top floor, everyone was on edge. The group gathered outside the broadcasting room, their weapons ready.

“Let’s hope there’s not an army waiting for us in there,” Jisung muttered.

Mark pushed the door open slowly, revealing a room filled with old broadcasting equipment. A few monitors flickered weakly, and cables snaked across the floor.

“Clear,” he announced, stepping inside.

Jaemin let out a breath of relief, walking over to inspect the equipment. “It’s old, but it might still work. We’ll need to power it up and run some tests.”

Renjun frowned. “And what if it doesn’t work?”

Jaemin looked at him, determination in his eyes. “Then we’ll fix it. No matter what it takes.”

The group decided to stay in the station for the night. They barricaded the lower floors and set up their sleeping bags in the broadcasting room, using the space as a makeshift base.

By morning, Jaemin had managed to get some of the equipment running. The group gathered around as he explained the plan.

“We’ll start with a simple message,” Jaemin said. “Something short and clear. We’ll tell people about the vaccine, how it works, and where to find us. Once we’ve established contact, we can figure out distribution.”

Chenle raised a hand. “And what if someone…less friendly hears the broadcast?”

Jeno shrugged. “We’ll deal with it if it happens. Right now, we need to focus on reaching as many people as possible.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “We’ll take shifts monitoring the equipment. If we get any responses, we’ll be ready.”

Haechan glanced at the cables running across the floor. “How long until we can start broadcasting?”

Jaemin grinned. “Give me a few hours. This thing is older than any of us, but I’ll make it work.”

As Jaemin and Jeno continued working, Mark and Haechan slipped away to check the perimeter of the station. They walked side by side, their weapons slung over their shoulders.

“You know,” Haechan said, breaking the silence, “I’m proud of us.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “For surviving?”

“For more than that,” Haechan replied. “For not giving up. For finding each other. For…this.”

Mark stopped walking, turning to face him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Haechan. You keep me grounded. You give me hope.”

Haechan smiled, leaning closer. “You’re my hope too.”

—

The moment had finally arrived. Jeno’s voice crackled through the ancient microphone as he read the prepared message:

“This is a message of hope. We have developed a vaccine that provides immunity to the infection. If you’re hearing this, we want to help. Our current location is a broadcasting station near the edge of WayV city. If you’re in need of the vaccine or can help us distribute it, please respond. Together, we can rebuild.”

Everyone waited in tense silence after Jeno ended the broadcast. The equipment hummed faintly, the only sound in the room.

Haechan sat near the corner with Mark, who was squeezing his hand reassuringly. “It’s a waiting game now,” Mark whispered.

Jisung leaned against the console, nervously tapping his fingers. “What if nobody responds? Or worse…what if the wrong people hear it?”

Renjun glanced at him. “We’ve talked about this, Jisung. We’ll deal with it if it comes to that. But we can’t afford to sit here and do nothing.”

Hours passed before the first reply came through. A burst of static interrupted their quiet vigil, followed by a shaky voice.

“Hello? Is…is anyone there? My name is Mia. I heard your message. I’m with a small group about two hours away. We—we’ve been surviving, but people are getting sick. Please, can you help us?”

Jaemin leaned into the microphone, his tone steady and comforting. “Mia, we hear you. We’ll do what we can. Do you have a safe location we can meet at?”

“Yes,” the voice replied, relief clear even through the static. “We’re staying at an old supermarket. It’s fortified, but supplies are running low.”

“Stay there,” Jaemin instructed. “We’ll contact you again soon to arrange a meeting.”

Before anyone could process the first message, another voice cut through the airwaves. This one was firmer, more composed.

“This is Dr. Ellen Hayes. I was part of a medical research team before everything fell apart. I have access to a lab and equipment, but I need samples and a way to mass-produce any cure. I can meet you at a secure location.”

Haechan’s eyes widened. “A lab? That could speed things up significantly.”

Jaemin nodded, scribbling notes. “We’ll reach out to her once we finalize the next steps. Anyone with resources like that is invaluable.”

As more replies trickled in, the mood in the room shifted. What had once been a daunting mission now felt possible.

“We’re actually doing this,” Chenle said, a smile breaking across his face. “People are out there, and they’re listening.”

“Let’s not celebrate just yet,” Jeno cautioned, though his voice carried a hint of optimism. “This is only the beginning.”

Mark and Haechan exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They’d come this far together, and they’d see it through to the end.

After hours of coordinating responses, the group finally settled down for a break. Jisung sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through a pile of maps. “So we have a few options for where to go next, but…we can’t do everything at once. How do we decide?”

“We prioritize,” Jaemin said. “The sick group Mia mentioned sounds urgent, but the lab Dr. Hayes has could change everything. We’ll need to split up eventually.”

Mark shook his head. “Splitting up is too dangerous. We stick together for now.”

Renjun nodded. “Agreed. Let’s focus on securing supplies and planning our next moves. We’ll decide tomorrow who to help first.”

Later that night, Mark and Haechan slipped away to the rooftop of the station. The city stretched out before them, quiet and dark.

“Today felt…different,” Haechan said, leaning on the edge of the railing. “Like we’re actually making a difference.”

Mark smiled, standing beside him. “Because we are.”

Haechan turned to him, his expression soft. “You know, I never imagined I’d get this far. That I’d meet someone like you. Someone who makes all this chaos worth it.”

Mark reached out, brushing his fingers against Haechan’s cheek. “You make it worth it for me too.”

They stood there for a moment, the weight of the world forgotten.

Now their only issue was deciding which group to prioritize and how to proceed with their current situation.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the group gathered around the worn wooden table in the center of the broadcasting station, maps spread out and papers covered with notes. Jaemin’s voice was steady as he spoke, a determined edge to it.

“Alright, everyone, we need to decide how we’re going to handle this. Mia and her group need help now, but Dr. Hayes’ lab could be the game changer. We can’t afford to lose the chance to work with her, but we also can’t ignore the people who are already struggling.”

Renjun, always practical, nodded. “Mia’s group is our priority. If we can get them the vaccine quickly, it’ll strengthen our position and help build trust with others who need it. But we also need to move fast to contact Dr. Hayes and set up a plan.”

Jeno crossed his arms, his brow furrowed as he thought. “What if we send a smaller team to Mia’s group while the rest of us contact Dr. Hayes and secure the lab? That way, we’re working on both fronts and don’t lose momentum.”

Haechan looked at Mark, who nodded in agreement. Their eyes met for a brief moment, an unspoken understanding passing between them. They’d been through so much together already; splitting up now would be hard, but it was necessary.

“I’ll go with Renjun and Jisung to help Mia’s group,” Haechan said. “Mark, Chenle, you and Jaemin can handle setting up the meeting with Dr. Hayes.”

Although they had spoken about not wanting to split up their forces, they realized it was necessary.

Jaemin smiled, a small spark of hope lighting his eyes. “We’ll coordinate with everyone and keep in touch. Once we’ve secured both sides, we can come together again.”

“Alright,” Renjun said, standing up. “Let’s move out before we lose any more time.”

The journey to Mia’s group was tense but quiet. Renjun, Haechan, and Jisung traveled quickly, keeping an eye out for any signs of zombies or hostile groups. They navigated the maze of crumbling buildings and overgrown streets, moving with purpose. The sun was already high when they arrived at the old supermarket, its walls pockmarked with bullet holes and boarded-up windows.

Mia’s group was waiting inside, and relief washed over their faces when they saw the three arrive. “You made it!” Mia exclaimed, stepping forward. “We were starting to lose hope.”

Haechan stepped in, pulling out a small case of vials. “We have the vaccine. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s enough to keep you safe for now.”

The group crowded around, eyes wide with hope and disbelief. Renjun began explaining how it worked while Jisung distributed the vials.

As Haechan watched them, he felt a weight lift off his chest. They were saving lives, one person at a time.

Meanwhile, Mark and Jaemin were on their way to meet Dr. Hayes. The journey was quicker, the roads a little clearer. Mark’s hands fidgeted, his mind racing with thoughts of what would come next. What would they find at the lab? Would they be able to work with Dr. Hayes, or would she turn them away? Chenle and Jeno stayed back at the radio station to monitor for more connections.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, breaking the silence. “We’re doing something important. If we can get this lab going, we might have a chance to spread this to every survivor left.”

Mark’s expression softened, and he looked at Jaemin. “I know. We’ve come too far to stop now.”

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement, the two men approached the building that had once been a research facility. It was dark, eerily quiet, but there were signs of recent activity—fresh footprints in the dust, a faint glow from an interior window.

“Dr. Hayes?” Mark called as he stepped inside, his voice low but firm.

A figure emerged from the shadows, and a woman with sharp eyes and a cautious expression stepped forward. “Who are you?” she asked, glancing at Jaemin before her gaze landed on Mark.

“Mark. Jaemin. We came for your help,” Mark said, feeling the weight of the future pressing down on him.

Dr. Hayes nodded slowly. “Then let’s get to work.”

Back at the supermarket, Renjun, Haechan, and Jisung prepared to make their way back. With the initial distribution of the vaccine underway, their mission was far from over. But they were no longer just survivors; they were part of something larger now. The fight was only beginning, but hope had found its way back into their hearts.

—

Dr. Hayes’ lab was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow across the workbenches covered in beakers, vials, and stacks of research papers. Mark shifted from foot to foot, nerves buzzing as Dr. Hayes examined the vials they’d brought. Jaemin stood off to the side, arms folded and eyes alert, as if expecting a sudden interruption.

“So, you two managed to create a working prototype,” Dr. Hayes said, her voice calm, but sharp. She picked up one of the vials, tilting it so the pale liquid caught the light. “We’ll need to refine this, make sure it’s stable for mass production, but it’s a start. Mark, can you tell me exactly how this works?”

Mark nodded, clearing his throat. “It was born from a mix of desperation and a bit of luck. Haechan, my partner, found the research from an old hospital near our first base. We were able to synthesize the cure, but the side effects—”

“Are manageable,” Jaemin added. “It takes a toll on the body, but it can save lives.”

Dr. Hayes looked at both of them, assessing, calculating. “We can refine the serum. But I’ll need help. The original lab files from this facility were partially destroyed in the initial outbreak, so we need to start from scratch.”

Mark explained how they had clear instructions for the production with Haechan and Renjun and that they would he on their way now.

A quiet determination settled in the room. The fate of thousands now rested on the research and the people willing to fight for it.

Meanwhile, on the road back to the city, Haechan and Renjun moved quickly through the thinning woods, their breaths coming in heavy puffs as they navigated around fallen logs and twisted roots. The cityscape loomed in the distance, its skyline a jagged line against the soft orange of the setting sun. They had dropped Jisung off at the radio station and were on their way to the Dr.

“Do you think they’ll be able to do it?” Renjun’s voice was laced with hope and worry. He glanced at Haechan, whose face was set in a line of determination.

“They have to,” Haechan said, pushing his hair back. “We’ve come too far to let this fail. We need to make sure Dr. Hayes has everything she needs.”

Renjun nodded, silent for a moment as the wind rustled the trees around them. “You think Mark and Jaemin are okay?”

Haechan’s eyes flickered with worry. “They’re strong, Renjun. They wouldn’t give up. We’ll find them, and we’ll make this work.”

Back at the radio station, Chenle, Jisung and Jeno sat at the console, their eyes darting between the radio’s crackling static and the monitoring screens. The station was buzzing with muted activity, the only sound the rhythmic tapping of Jeno’s fingers against the desk.

“Do you think they made it?” Chenle asked, trying to mask the worry in his voice.

Jeno sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They have to. We need this to work, not just for us, but for everyone out there waiting for a chance.”

The radio crackled to life, a faint voice on the other end breaking the silence.

“Survivor team, come in. This is Mark. We’re close to the base. We have news.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed the mic. “Mark? Is that really you?”

“Yes,” came Mark’s reply, the strain in his voice palpable. “We have Dr. Hayes on our side. Haechan and Renjun are on their way back. The plan is falling into place. We’ll be ready soon.”

Jeno exhaled, relief washing over him. They were one step closer. The fight wasn’t over, but the hope that had been buried under layers of fear and loss was beginning to rise once more.

Dr. Hayes worked quickly, her team of scientists and researchers gathering around her as she examined the results of the first test batch. The lab was filled with the low hum of machines and the soft clinking of metal tools. Her eyes sparkled with determination as she looked up at Mark, Jaemin, and the rest of the group who had come to help.

“We can do this,” she said, her voice resolute. “This is exactly what we need. With the right resources, we can have enough to immunize hundreds, maybe thousands within the next couple of weeks. We’re on track to produce at a mass level.”

Mark’s eyes met Jaemin’s, and they shared a look of quiet triumph. Haechan, who had just arrived with Renjun, smiled, relief evident in his eyes as he approached them.

“I knew you could do it,” Haechan said, squeezing Mark’s arm. The simple gesture spoke volumes—every fight, every struggle, had brought them here, and now, they were about to change everything.

Dr. Hayes continued, turning to her team as she started delegating tasks. “Let’s move. We need to get this vaccine ready and packaged for distribution. Time is of the essence.”

With the lab in capable hands, Haechan, Mark, Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Jisung, and Renjun loaded up their truck with boxes of vials and supplies. The old, beat-up vehicle, once used to transport basic supplies across the city, was now a lifeline that could carry hope from one place to another.

Haechan looked around at their group, a sense of unity radiating between them. “We’re really doing this,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

Mark smiled back at him, eyes bright and determined. “We have to. It’s not just about surviving anymore; it’s about saving everyone who’s still out there.”

Jaemin leaned against the truck, crossing his arms as he surveyed the map spread out on the hood. “Our first stop is the outskirts of the city where another group is. We’ll start there and move outward. We can cover more ground this way.”

“Let’s get moving,” Renjun said, his voice firm, and they piled into the truck, the engine roaring to life. As the truck rumbled down the road, the city that had once been full of chaos faded in the rearview mirror, and ahead of them lay the unknown—an uncertain future, but one that carried a promise of hope.

They arrived at the outskirts by early evening, the orange glow of the setting sun painting the ruins with a bittersweet light. The group was waiting, their faces a mixture of weariness and anticipation. The moment they saw the truck, their expressions shifted to relief and disbelief. The group had gotten more replies to their message and were now going around and distributing the vaccine.

Haechan stepped out first, meeting Evan’s gaze, the man who contacted them recently. “We’ve got the vaccine,” he said, pulling one of the boxes from the truck bed.

Evan’s eyes filled with tears. “You did it. You really did it.”

As the vials were distributed and administered, Mark watched, a profound sense of purpose settling over him. They were doing it. They were giving people a chance to live without fear, without the shadow of infection hovering over them.

They had basically started an organization that drove around distributing the vaccine to those who contacted them and anyone they could find basically. Their goal was to get it to as many survivors as possible, then once no one else could be infected anymore… they could focus on eliminating any remaining zombies.

Chapter Text

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a soft orange glow through the blinds of Mark and Haechan's room at the base. They had just returned from a month spent driving around and distributing the vaccine. They were tired and pent up.

Of course they weren’t done spreading the vaccine everywhere, but they were damn close. Jeno had estimated that maybe another couple of weeks and they’d be able to spread the vaccine to the rest of the living people in the infected area. This was an incredible feat.

No news or communication had been made with the base that Mark and Haechan stayed at for a few months either.

Now, they just needed some time to themselves.

The room was filled with the lingering scent of their recent showers, mingling with the faint aroma of the candles they had lit to set the mood. Both men were exhausted from weeks of relentless work, but now, finally alone together, they could unwind in each other's arms.

Mark lounged on the bed, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the toned chest that Haechan loved to trace his fingers over. His eyes were closed, but he could feel Haechan's gaze on him. The younger man was perched on the edge of the bed, his own shirt discarded carelessly on the floor. Haechan's eyes never left Mark's face, their intensity drawing him out of his relaxed state.

"Hyung," Haechan murmured, his voice low and raspy, "look at me."

Mark's eyes fluttered open, meeting Haechan's dark gaze. The intensity in those eyes made his heart skip a beat. There was something about the way Haechan looked at him, as if he wanted Mark devouring every inch of him. It sent a jolt of desire straight to Mark's core.

"What do you want, Haechan?" Mark asked, his voice deep and husky. He knew exactly what Haechan wanted, but he enjoyed playing this game, drawing out the anticipation.

Haechan leaned in closer, his breath hot against Mark's skin as he whispered, "I want you to take me, hyung."

Mark felt the weight of Haechan's words sink into him, igniting a fire within. He reached out, his hand cupping Haechan's cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath his palm. "I already have you," he said softly, his thumb brushing across Haechan's lips.
Haechan closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

"Then prove it," he challenged, opening his eyes to meet Mark's again.

Without another word, Mark pulled Haechan onto the bed, his hands moving with purpose. He captured Haechan's lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up desire into it. Their tongues tangled, exploring each other with a fervor that left them both gasping for air when they finally broke apart.

"Spread your legs for me," Mark commanded, his voice gruff with barely contained need.

Haechan obeyed instantly, his legs parting to give Mark access. Mark's eyes darkened as he took in the sight before him, his cock twitching in response. He positioned himself between Haechan's legs, his fingers ghosting over the soft skin of his inner thighs.

"So beautiful," Mark murmured, his fingers dipping lower, teasing the entrance to Haechan's body. "You're so ready for me, aren't you?"

Haechan nodded, his eyes closing in pleasure as Mark's fingers brushed against his sensitive flesh. "Yes, hyung. Please, I need you."

Haechan had in fact prepared himself while he showered since he knew what was soon to come.

Mark's fingers delved inside, finding Haechan's prostate and pressing against it firmly. Haechan cried out, his back arching off the bed. "Fuck, Mark! Just like that."

Mark grinned, pleased by Haechan's reaction, his fingers working relentlessly. "You love it when I touch you like this, don't you?"

"God, yes," Haechan breathed, his body trembling with need. "Don't stop, please."

Mark didn't plan to stop. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. Haechan's sharp intake of breath spurred him on, his tongue darting inside, tasting Haechan's essence. He licked and sucked, driving Haechan wild with each stroke.

"Mark... ah... hyung," Haechan moaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Please, I can't take much more."

Mark pulled back, his eyes locking with Haechan's once more. "Beg me," he demanded, his voice commanding but with a bit of playfulness.

Haechan swallowed hard, his pride warring with his desperate need. "Please, hyung, fuck me. Make me yours, fully."

Mark's control snapped. He positioned himself at Haechan's entrance, guiding his aching cock inside. Haechan whimpered as Mark thrust forward, filling him completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pain and pleasure.

"You feel so good, Haechan," Mark growled, his hips beginning to move. "So tight around me."

Haechan clung to Mark, his nails digging into his back. "Hyung, harder," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Please, harder."

Mark complied, picking up the pace. Each thrust was deeper, rougher, claiming Haechan in the best way. Their bodies moved as one, the bed creaking under the force of their passion.

"That's it, hyung," Haechan gasped, his eyes half-lidded with ecstasy. "Take me, use me."

Mark's thrusts grew erratic, his control slipping. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "Always mine."

Haechan's answer was a strangled cry as he came undone, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. Mark followed shortly after, spilling inside Haechan with a grunt of satisfaction.

They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies still joined. Mark tightened his hold on Haechan, kissing his temple tenderly. "I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Haechan turned his head, capturing Mark's lips in a sweet, tender kiss. "I love you too, hyung," he murmured against his lips.

They hadn’t done that in so long that it went a lot faster than both of them expected.

The soft glow of the candles cast a warm, intimate light over the room as Mark and Haechan lay entangled in each other's arms. The air was thick with the lingering scent of their recent passion, and the quiet hum of the base outside provided a soothing backdrop to their post-coital bliss.

Mark slowly untangled himself from Haechan, his eyes never leaving his lover's face. He reached over to the nightstand, his fingers brushing against the cool glass surface as he retrieved a silky blindfold. Haechan watched him with curious, half-lidded eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Close your eyes," Mark commanded softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down Haechan's spine.

Haechan obeyed without hesitation, his trust in Mark absolute. The blindfold slipped over his eyes, its softness caressing his skin before it tightened just enough to obscure his vision. The world around him dimmed to a haze of shadows and shapes, leaving him disoriented and vulnerable.

Mark's fingers trailed down Haechan's arm, sending a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath hot against Haechan's ear.

"Always," Haechan replied, his voice steady despite the wild beating of his heart.

The feelings now felt much more amplified to Haechan. Having one of his senses obstructed really made his others work harder.

Mark rewarded him with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so good," he murmured, the praise sending a thrill through Haechan's body. He loved when Mark said that, especially in moments like this when he felt so utterly under his control.

Mark's hands moved lower, exploring Haechan's torso with deliberate slowness. His fingertips traced the ridges of Haechan's abs, dipping into the hollows and valleys of his toned frame. Haechan shivered at the sensation, his body thrumming with anticipation.

"You're so beautiful," Mark whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect."

Haechan's breath caught in his throat at the words, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. He could feel Mark's gaze on him, intense and unwavering, even though he couldn't see it. It made him feel cherished, wanted, and utterly desired.

Mark's hands continued their slow journey, moving lower still until they cupped Haechan's erection. Haechan groaned, his hips arching off the bed in response. Mark's touch was firm but gentle, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head of Haechan's cock in a teasing rhythm.

"You like that, don't you?" Mark teased, his voice a seductive sound.

"Yes," Haechan breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, hyung..." it felt so weird not being able to see Mark.

Mark chuckled softly, leaning in to nip at Haechan's earlobe. "Patience, my love. I want to savour every inch of you."

With that, Mark's hands left Haechan's erection, much to his disappointment. But before he could protest, he felt Mark's mouth replace his hands, his tongue lapping at the precum that had already beaded at the tip. Haechan gasped, his legs spreading wider in invitation.

Mark took his time, lavishing attention on every inch of Haechan's length. His tongue flicked out to taste the pre-cum, then he swallowed Haechan down, taking him deep into his throat. Haechan cried out, his hands fisting in the sheets as he struggled to stay still.

"Hyung, please..." Haechan begged, his voice trembling with need.

Mark pulled back, looking up at Haechan with hooded eyes. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with dangerous intent.

"I want you," Haechan admitted, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "Inside me. Please." They had just done it but he couldn’t help wanting more.

Mark's eyes darkened with satisfaction, and he rose to his feet. He moved to the nightstand again, retrieving a bottle of lube. Haechan heard the slick sound of the cap being twisted off, and his breath hitched in anticipation. They had scavenged a bit of it while out delivering vaccines. None of the other’s had noticed though.

Mark returned to the bed, positioning himself between Haechan's legs. He coated his fingers with the cool liquid, then pressed one inside Haechan without preamble. Haechan gasped, his body clenching around the intrusion.

"Relax," Mark soothed, kissing his way up Haechan's thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Haechan did his best to comply, trying to relax his body as Mark added another finger. The stretch was tight, but not uncomfortable, and Haechan found himself arching into the touch, eager for more. He was already pretty loose from earlier though, so it wasn’t too painful.

Mark's fingers scissored slowly, opening Haechan up with meticulous care. He added a third finger, stretching Haechan further. Haechan bit his lip, trying to stifle his moans, but it was impossible.

Mark's touch was insidious, driving him wild with desire.

"Look at how beautifully you take my fingers," Mark praised, his voice a low growl. "You're do so well for me."

Haechan's eyes rolled back in his head at the words, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. Mark withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his cock. The head pressed against Haechan's entrance, and Haechan whimpered at the pressure.

"Ready?" Mark asked, his voice soft but firm.

Haechan nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Mark pushed in slowly, giving Haechan time to adjust. The stretch wasn’t too intense nor painful, and Haechan found himself falling into the sensation, his body accepting Mark's cock eagerly.

When Mark was fully seated inside him, he paused, giving Haechan a moment to catch his breath. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "So perfect."

Haechan let out a shuddering breath, his hands gripping Mark's shoulders for support. "Please, Mark," he begged. "Keep going."

Mark obliged, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. The motion was slow and deliberate, each thrust hitting Haechan's sweet spot with unerring accuracy. Haechan cried out, his body convulsing with pleasure.

"That's it," Mark encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "Take it, baby. Take all of me."

Haechan did as he was told, his body rocking with Mark's thrusts. The blindfold heightened his other senses, making every touch, every sound, every smell more intense. He could feel Mark's muscles tensing beneath his hands, the heat of his skin searing into his own.

Mark's pace began to quicken, his thrusts growing more urgent. He wrapped one hand around Haechan's neck, pulling him closer for a fierce kiss. Their tongues tangled together, slick and hungry, as Mark's hips pistoned into Haechan with relentless force.

"You feel so good," Mark growled against Haechan's lips. "So tight and perfect around me."

"Hyung," Haechan gasped, his voice breaking with emotion. "I love you."

Mark's thrusts faltered for a moment, his eyes darkening with intensity. "I love you too," he whispered, his voice raw with feeling. "More than anything."

With that, Mark's movements became even more frantic, his body aligning perfectly with Haechan's. They moved as one, their breaths syncing in a primal rhythm as they chased the edge of ecstasy.

Haechan could feel the coil in his stomach tightening, ready to snap. "Hyung, I'm close," he warned, his voice trembling with need.

Mark's response was immediate, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he pushed Haechan towards the precipice. "Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice a rough whisper. "Come hard for me."

Haechan couldn't hold back any longer, his orgasm crashing over him in waves. He came with a strangled cry, his body trembling violently as he spilled over Mark's hand.

Mark followed shortly after, his release triggered by Haechan's climax. He buried his face in Haechan's neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he emptied himself inside his lover.

They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies still joined once more. Mark tightened his hold on Haechan, kissing his temple tenderly as he removed the blindfold.

Haechan turned his head, capturing Mark's lips in a sweet, tender kiss.

They definitely needed some time to unwind.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp and carried a newfound sense of hope. Mark stood at the edge of the lab, his hand on the truck as he looked out at the city that had become their base. It was no longer a place of fear and isolation but a place where the first signs of a new world were beginning to sprout.

Haechan stepped up next to him, eyes bright and filled with determination. “Ready for one last trip?” he asked, the question more of a promise than anything.

Mark looked at him, the same sense of resolve echoing in his own eyes. “Always.”

The group was gathered, loading up the truck with boxes of the vaccine, water, food, and supplies. Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, Chenle, and Jisung were all ready for the journey. This time, it wasn’t about sheer survival. They were going out to bring hope to the last areas of the city that were still cut off and vulnerable. The route would take them through some of the less-traveled areas, past old abandoned buildings and quiet towns that were barely holding on. It would be a two-week journey, a final push to make sure no one was left behind.

Dr. Hayes came out to see them off, a smile on her face. “Be careful,” she said, her voice soft with concern. “And bring back stories, not just supplies.”

Jaemin grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Will do, Doc.”

They started the engine and drove out of the city, leaving behind the hum of progress and the safety of their newfound home. The road ahead was bumpy, winding through cracked asphalt and fields that had been left to grow wild. It was a landscape caught between decay and renewal, much like their own journey.

Mark glanced at Haechan, who was sitting next to him, and found himself hoping that this wasn’t just about distributing the vaccine. It was about creating a world where they could live freely, without looking over their shoulders. Without the fear that had once consumed them.

The first few days were filled with little moments: stopping at small outposts to help survivors, sharing meals in the back of the truck, and even a moment of laughter when Renjun told a story about getting lost in the woods as a kid. Mark didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of Haechan’s smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed.

But the journey wasn’t without its challenges. There were areas that were overrun with zombies, places that had been abandoned for too long and left too vulnerable. They fought their way through, moving as a tight-knit team, each one watching the back of the others, knowing that they had to trust each other more than ever.

After one particularly harrowing day, when a surprise ambush left them breathless and shaken, they set up camp for the night. The forest around them was alive with the sounds of crickets and distant howls. They sat close, the fire between them casting flickering shadows across their faces.

“Mark,” Haechan said, breaking the silence, his voice low. “Do you ever think about what comes after this? After we finish this journey?”

Mark stared into the fire, the flames dancing with a life of their own. “Yeah,” he said, finally meeting Haechan’s eyes. “I think about it all the time. I think about what we’ll do once this is over. Maybe… maybe we’ll settle down somewhere. Build something that’s ours.”

Haechan’s smile was soft but hopeful. “That sounds perfect.”

They stayed that way for a while, the crackling of the fire filling the space between them. It was a rare moment of peace, and Mark wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could. He reached out, brushing his fingers against Haechan’s hand.

“Mark,” Haechan whispered, his eyes serious. “We’ve come so far. And no matter what happens, I want you to know—I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

Mark squeezed his hand, a smile breaking through the exhaustion. “I wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

They sat by the fire until the night was deep and the stars above them were endless. They knew that the road ahead would be tough and that their journey wasn’t over yet, but in that moment, as they stared into the fire and held on to each other, they had everything they needed to face whatever came next.

The days that followed were a blur of movement, the rhythmic clatter of boots on pavement, the low hum of the truck’s engine, and the ever-present feeling of purpose in the air. The group moved through towns and outposts, bringing the vaccine to those who needed it most. Mark watched Haechan work with a focused determination that left him in awe, marvelling at how his partner had become more than just a survivor but a beacon of hope.

One afternoon, the group reached a small town at the edge of an overgrown field, its homes and streets crumbling under years of neglect. Survivors emerged from their hiding places, wary eyes filled with a mix of fear and curiosity. Jaemin stepped forward, waving them over with a practiced smile.

“We’re here to help,” he said, his voice loud and reassuring. “We have a vaccine, and we’re giving it out to anyone who needs it.”

Haechan stood by the truck, holding a box filled with vials and syringes. He caught Mark’s eye and smiled, a small gesture that spoke of relief and shared victory. The group set up a small distribution station, Renjun and Chenle assisting with the vaccine preparation while Jeno and Jisung helped organize the crowd, making sure everyone was accounted for.

Mark stood beside Haechan, helping where he could, his own heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. They were so close now. The last of the vaccines were about to be given, and the end of this chapter was almost here. But that wasn’t all—this was also the beginning of a new world, a world they were fighting to create together.

“Hey,” Haechan said, tilting his head toward Mark as he finished with the next syringe. “We’re actually doing it, you know.”

Mark nodded, a proud grin tugging at his lips. “We are. And it’s all because of us. Because we believed in each other.”

The townspeople approached, hesitant at first but with growing hope as they realized what was happening. One older woman, her eyes weathered and kind, reached out to Haechan with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “I never thought I’d see this day.”

Haechan met her gaze and smiled. “We’re just getting started,” he said. His voice was gentle but filled with an unshakable confidence.

As the last of the vials were administered, the group exchanged glances that said everything. This wasn’t just a victory for them; it was a victory for everyone who had fought and survived. A promise that a future beyond the apocalypse was possible.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, Mark sat by the truck with Haechan. The streets were alive with whispers and laughter as people embraced one another and spoke about what they would do when the world returned to something they could recognize. It was a sound Mark had forgotten—the sound of hope.

“You know,” Mark said, leaning back against the truck and turning to Haechan, “there’s a part of me that can’t believe we actually made it. I thought I’d lost that hope, that any kind of future was impossible.”

Haechan reached out and took Mark’s hand, their fingers entwining effortlessly. “We found it again, Mark. We found each other and what really matters. That’s all that counts.”

Mark’s heart ached with a tender feeling he didn’t quite have a name for. He brought Haechan’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, letting the sensation ground him in the moment. “And we’re just getting started,” he whispered.

The two of them watched as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, the world around them alive with the promise of a new beginning.

The drive back to the original base was filled with a quiet, electric anticipation. The truck rumbled over the rough road, its tires kicking up dust that settled over the world like a protective shroud. The sky above was a canvas of deep blue, the stars twinkling as if they were celebrating the dawn of a new era. The group sat in the truck, exhausted but elated, their minds spinning with what they had just accomplished.

Mark glanced at Haechan, who had taken the wheel, and felt a sense of peace wash over him. They were going back home, back to the place that had once been nothing more than a shelter, a cage, but had now become a symbol of hope and survival. They had brought the cure, but more than that, they had brought a future.

When they finally reached the base, they were met with a flurry of activity. People flooded the gates, their faces a mix of exhaustion and joy, eyes wide as they recognized the truck and the familiar faces that had been missing for weeks. The team had done it—they’d brought back the vaccine and enough supplies to start the next chapter of humanity.

Jaemin leaped out of the driver’s seat, a wide grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of the crowd. “We made it!” he shouted, and the cheers that followed felt like the first real sound of triumph in what felt like a lifetime.

Renjun and Chenle stepped out, taking a moment to soak in the energy before joining the others in unloading the truck. People swarmed around, eager to hear about their journey, their stories, and, most importantly, their plan to wipe out the zombies once and for all.

Dr. Hayes approached them, her eyes filled with a fierce pride. “You did it,” she said, barely able to contain the smile that broke across her face. “You brought back what we needed.”

Mark nodded, squeezing Haechan’s hand before they separated to help distribute the vaccine to those gathered. The plan was simple but ambitious. With the vaccine ready, they would start moving in waves, sending out groups to target and eradicate the remaining zombie hordes. The hope was to reclaim cities and towns, clear them out, and make them livable again. It was going to take time, but with the base fortified and people now protected by the vaccine, it was possible.

That night, the base was buzzing with the kind of energy that hadn’t been felt in years. The scent of roasted food and laughter filled the air as people celebrated, shared stories, and caught up with loved ones. Mark and Haechan stood on the edge of the camp, watching the stars and listening to the sounds of new beginnings.

“Are you ready for this?” Mark asked, breaking the silence and turning to Haechan. The question was simple but heavy, a reminder that there was still a long road ahead.

Haechan nodded, his eyes determined. “More than ever. We’re not just fighting for survival anymore. We’re fighting for life. For what comes after.”

Mark felt his heart swell at the thought. They had made it through the impossible, and now, standing here with the promise of a future before them, he knew they were ready for whatever came next.

A few steps away, Jaemin and Jeno were discussing plans with some of the others, the lantern light casting shadows across their faces. Chenle and Renjun were checking equipment with Jisung, their laughter a reprieve from the tension that had been so familiar in the past.

And Mark, with Haechan by his side, knew that they were more than just survivors. They were the start of something bigger, something that would change the world. And together, they would see it through.

Chapter Text

The days turned into weeks as the teams worked tirelessly to clear out the infected zones. The plan was meticulous: small squads would split up and cover different areas, making sure to work in pairs and provide backup. The remaining zombies were fewer and weaker than before, thanks to the spread of the vaccine that had made most survivors immune.

Mark and Haechan were not on the front lines this time; they were coordinating from the base, helping to direct the teams and ensure supplies were distributed efficiently. The tension was palpable, but so was the hope. The plan was working, and they could see it with their own eyes—the streets that had once been crawling with the undead were now mostly quiet, with only the sound of wind and the crunch of boots on snow as the teams moved through the city.

One day, as Mark sat at the makeshift operations center with Jaemin and Renjun, watching reports come in over the radio, a cheer erupted from outside. Mark looked up, eyes meeting Jaemin’s as a smile broke out on his face.

“It’s done,” Jaemin said, disbelief and relief mixing in his voice.

Mark stood up, his heart pounding. He could hardly believe it. They had finally pushed the last of the zombies back. The teams would finish clearing the remaining areas, but there were no more major threats left. They had taken back the city, and with it, the hope of a new beginning.

The sun was setting as Mark found Haechan on the rooftop, looking out over the quiet streets below. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, and the wind tugged at Haechan’s hair as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey,” Mark said, coming up beside him. The relief of the past few weeks was only now starting to sink in, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Haechan looked at him, a small smile breaking across his face. “We did it, didn’t we?” he said, the exhaustion in his voice offset by the spark of triumph.

“We did,” Mark said, his voice rough with emotion. He stepped closer, reaching out to take Haechan’s hand. “I’m so proud of you, of all of us.”

Haechan’s smile grew, his eyes glistening as he looked down at their joined hands. “We’re not done yet. But we’re almost there.”

Mark leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Haechan’s temple. “It is. And no matter what comes next, we’ll face it together.”

A cheer echoed up from the streets below, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they both knew the world was theirs to rebuild.

—

Months had passed since the last remnants of the zombies were eradicated. The once-desolate city had started to come alive again. The streets that had been filled with destruction and silence were now bustling with activity as people worked together to rebuild their lives. The sound of hammering and the hum of conversations filled the air, mixed with the laughter of children playing in the distance.

Haechan and Mark stood on the steps of the main building, surveying the progress. The cold winter had given way to the gentle warmth of spring, and the first signs of new life were everywhere. It felt surreal to Mark that just a few months ago, the idea of this moment was impossible.

“Look at this,” Haechan said, nodding toward a group of people who were planting flowers in a garden that had once been a rundown parking lot. “We’re making it happen.”

Mark smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “It’s incredible. I never thought we’d get to see this.”

Haechan leaned his shoulder against Mark’s, looking at him with a small, fond smile. “I knew we would,” he said softly. “It was just a matter of when.”

They had come so far, but the work wasn’t over. The base had become a hub for the refugees who had found safety, and now that the vaccine had been distributed and was fully effective, the focus was on building communities, creating jobs, and making the city a place people wanted to call home.

Mark turned to face Haechan, his expression more serious. “How are you holding up with everything? The lab, the research, the planning… It’s a lot.”

Haechan’s eyes softened, and he reached for Mark’s hand. “I’m good. Better than I’ve been in a long time. I’m just glad we did it together. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

Mark’s fingers intertwined with Haechan’s, and he squeezed gently. “We make a good team.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the sun dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the base. A small voice called out, and Mark turned to see Jisung running up to them with a grin on his face, Chenle not far behind.

“Hey! We found some old books in one of the buildings,” Jisung said, holding a dusty, cracked book in his hands. “Thought you’d want to take a look. We’re going to start a library.”

Mark and Haechan shared a look, both of their faces lighting up with joy. The idea of a library, a place for people to come together and learn, felt like the final touch to this new beginning.

“That’s amazing,” Mark said, taking the book from Jisung’s hands. “Thank you, Jisung.”

The young man beamed, his eyes glistening with excitement. “No problem! We’re all in this together, right?”

Haechan chuckled, nudging Mark with his shoulder. “We definitely are.”

The city was no longer just a place of survival; it was a place of hope, and a future being rebuilt from the ground up. It was a future Mark and Haechan would help shape, side by side.

—

The days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The world hummed with life, city streets filled with laughter, the clatter of tools, and the murmur of hopeful conversations. Mark and Haechan worked tirelessly, not just helping with distribution and research, but now training and mentoring others, sharing the skills and knowledge they’d gained through the long, dark months.

Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Renjun, and Jisung had each found their roles within the new society, working to create a system that thrived. Jaemin and Renjun led community projects, Jeno helped coordinate transportation for those needing to travel, Chenle was in charge of organizing the growing medical supplies, and Jisung had started teaching children how to read and write. It was as though the city itself was breathing, rising from its long silence.

One evening, as the sun set and painted the sky in a brilliant wash of red and orange, Mark and Haechan stood by the riverbank. They watched the water ripple, catching the light like tiny diamonds scattered across its surface.

“You know,” Mark said, his voice gentle, “we should think about building a house of our own soon. Somewhere that’s just ours.” They’d talked about it before, but now that was actually a possibility.

Haechan looked at him, eyes bright with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. “I’d like that,” he whispered, squeezing Mark’s hand. “A real home, not just a base.”

Mark’s heart thumped in his chest. A real home. It was something he’d never thought he’d have again, and now it felt like a promise, not just a dream. They had both been through so much, pushed through unimaginable pain and loss, but now they were building something new—together.

“I think it’s time we start planning for our future, Mark. A future that’s not just about surviving, but living,” Haechan said, his voice strong with conviction.

Mark nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m ready.”

As the night deepened and the first stars appeared in the sky, they stood together, feeling the weight of everything they had overcome and the endless possibilities that lay ahead. The distant sounds of laughter from the city carried to them on the wind, a song of hope and promise.

They’d made it through darkest days, with only a bright future ahead of them.