Zombie Plans and Other Things
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
6,621
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
6,621
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Once upon a time, long, long ago (say about a year) they had been too busy for any kind of ‘couple time’. Shawn had his family in town, and Jesse had a list of friends a mile long. They were so busy running around like lunatics that Jesse locking himself in the bathroom and screaming about how the madness had to stop was quite the surprise. It took a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and a half hour of pleading to get him out.
“Do you know my middle name?” The red head demanded.
“No?”
“We live together! Don’t you think you should?”
“Possibly, have you ever told me your middle name?”
“No. I don’t have one, but that’s not the point. It’s something you should know!”
“Well, how can I know what doesn’t exist?!”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Orange.”
“The name of my first pet?”
“Tobias.”
“What was he?”
“She was a guinea pig and you were a strange child.”
“Ha! Well, you don’t know what my middle name *would* have been if I had one.”
“You realize that in order to win an argument you *have to make sense*!”
“I want Friday nights!”
“What?”
“I *want* Friday nights.”
“For what, world domination?”
“No, for me.”
Shawn raised his hands to forestall the pout he knew was coming. “I’m not saying you can’t have them. I just want to know what you want Friday nights for.”
“Us Night.”
“You want a date night?”
“No, I want an Us Night.”
“What exactly is ‘Us’ night?”
“You and me, together. Duh.”
“Assume I have no idea what you’re talking about (because I don’t), and explain it to me.”
A quick, reckless grin flashed his way, “You know what happens when you assume.”
“Yes, in this house it makes “U” my ass.”
~o)0*0(o~
Date night, Friday night, normally the night of disturbing noises coming from the bedroom and a discarded bottle of wine. This would be what he would live for if his *ahem* pregnant partner could get over his delusions. He loved him, there was no way in nine hells you could be around Jesse for five minutes and not love him, but the love involved accepting some unusual quirks.
Like when his partner ordered an untested, non-FDA approved blue serum over the internet, jumped his unsuspecting partner, tried to convince same partner that he had gone to a doctor under a fake name when he had really just peed on a stick and claimed to be the first legitimate pregnant male in the history of mankind.
Oh, and a list of how to survive a zombie attack.
Now here they were, completely dressed and waiting for the two complete strangers to knock on the door and confirm his precious red-head’s insanity. He couldn’t wait.
Shawn considered himself a logical person. He thought that Jesse should be driven to the nearest hospital and checked for poison, after he’d been gagged so he wouldn’t end up in the nearest insane asylum of course. Apparently this meant he was an unsupportive partner hell bent on destroying the best thing to happen to gay mankind instead.
Logic should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.
Since the hospital thing was shot he was now sitting in his living room waiting for the two lunatics who supposedly invented this scientific marvel to show up instead of the private night he deserved. There had to be some kind of cosmic pay off for keeping his lover away from the rest of the world. There were list multiplying like rabbits on hormone drugs all over the house. The one he found taped to the bathroom mirror had been titled “How to Zombie-proof the Baby’s Room.”
“There are no such things as zombies,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’ll be glad for that missile silo when they start showing up on the news.”
He was going with the theory that a fake pregnancy gave you supersonic hearing.
“Wait, are you saying you’re actually buying a missile silo?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Thank God.”
“*We* own a missile silo. I bought the thing years ago and added your name when we moved in together. I have enough supplies to last us for ten years, although I have to make some adjustments to my calculations now that the little one is on the way.” Jesse patted his stomach.”Don’t worry, hon, whether it’s zombies or mutants from nuclear fallout we’re prepared. How much do you think you ate in high school?”
Shawn made an immediate mental note to call Jesse’s mother in the morning and find out exactly how many times he’d been dropped on his head. There was just no way that it had only been once.
When the doorbell finally rang he leaped for it with a semi-controlled lunge. The last few hours had not lead him to believe that he’d be so desperate for two strangers to make sense of his life. Throwing the door open he froze. Peepholes, he reminded himself, you should always check the peephole. Door makers put them there for a reason.
The guy with the blue monk’s robe (and glowing red eyes) walked right in. “Hi, you’re Shawn, right? Please say you are because this is the third place we’ve stopped.” (Red eyes, all red, with no pupils and glowing)
“Well, if you’d printed the email out instead of writing it down maybe there would have been a chance of reading it.”
There was a woman in leather in his gay, and he didn’t mean happy, apartment.
She turned flipping her long hair over her shoulder, and winked. “Oh, you betcha, sweetheart, and I’m straight too. The horror never ends, does it?”
Shawn started to laugh helplessly. He wasn’t sure if this was a prank or the future state of his life, but either way it was worth the ride. Besides, Jesse loved to tell him that his sense of humor defined the word ludicrous. Speak of the devil, his lover was off the couch and taking over host duties.
“Can I offer you anything? We have water, juice, pop, coffee, tea…”
“I’d like a nice pair of underwear, please,” said Mr. Red Eyes.
The Amazon cuffed the back of his head, “Wrong story line! We’ll have tea, Long Island if you got it.”
Jesse didn’t even blink. “No, just regular tea, alcohol’s not good for the baby.”
“So, you’re already pregnant? Wonderful! How far along would you say you are?” The man in blue pulled a bottle of doctor’s grade gel and some other thing out of some pockets. “Lie down and pull up your shirt and unzip your pants, please.”
Jesse follows directions leading Shawn to tease, “Look at you! Half-naked in front of another man and I don’t even know his name.”
One hand waved the introduction to the second home invader while the other hand squirted the blue goop, which makes the warmth-loving red-head gasp and flail. Medical gel of any kind maintained the temperature of a snowball in the Arctic. Someone had better give him some names soon or his mind was going to spin its self into oblivion thinking up new descriptive terms for the people in his house.
“The near medical personage over there is Sidious…”
“Inventor, I’m an inventor!” He protested.
“And I’m Epona, known to few but loved by all.” She finished by striking a pose.
Shawn was stunned into immobility again. He’d rather have a bunch of trannys with stubble and prominent adam apples singing Cher than the two hippie fringe lunatics that had just invaded his house. There was something that looked like a holographic projection over his boyfriend’s stomach. Was he the only one with a problem with this?
“Jess,” He squeaked.
“Just go get them tea, baby.”
Screw that, he had an uncorked bottle of wine with his name on it. He could drink it really fast, and when he woke up in the morning this would all be a drunken cosplay nightmare? Maybe he could sneak out to the pet store and buy a mouse and let him loose in the living room so they leave? No, Jesse would probably want to keep it as a pet even if it worked, besides he hated rodents. They gave him the heebie jeebies and Jesse laughed his ass off every time Shawn screamed.
“Ha! I knew I could do it!” He heard Mr. Star Wars say as he left the room. “You owe me ten bucks and protection the next time I grope someone. He’s pregnant.”
Oh look, that second bottle was going to come in handy. He was so glad he had thought to pick up two, and vodka. He couldn’t wait to find out what kind of havoc vodka shots with wine chasers was going to give him.
TBC~
Once upon a time, long, long ago (say about a year) they had been too busy for any kind of ‘couple time’. Shawn had his family in town, and Jesse had a list of friends a mile long. They were so busy running around like lunatics that Jesse locking himself in the bathroom and screaming about how the madness had to stop was quite the surprise. It took a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and a half hour of pleading to get him out.
“Do you know my middle name?” The red head demanded.
“No?”
“We live together! Don’t you think you should?”
“Possibly, have you ever told me your middle name?”
“No. I don’t have one, but that’s not the point. It’s something you should know!”
“Well, how can I know what doesn’t exist?!”
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Orange.”
“The name of my first pet?”
“Tobias.”
“What was he?”
“She was a guinea pig and you were a strange child.”
“Ha! Well, you don’t know what my middle name *would* have been if I had one.”
“You realize that in order to win an argument you *have to make sense*!”
“I want Friday nights!”
“What?”
“I *want* Friday nights.”
“For what, world domination?”
“No, for me.”
Shawn raised his hands to forestall the pout he knew was coming. “I’m not saying you can’t have them. I just want to know what you want Friday nights for.”
“Us Night.”
“You want a date night?”
“No, I want an Us Night.”
“What exactly is ‘Us’ night?”
“You and me, together. Duh.”
“Assume I have no idea what you’re talking about (because I don’t), and explain it to me.”
A quick, reckless grin flashed his way, “You know what happens when you assume.”
“Yes, in this house it makes “U” my ass.”
~o)0*0(o~
Date night, Friday night, normally the night of disturbing noises coming from the bedroom and a discarded bottle of wine. This would be what he would live for if his *ahem* pregnant partner could get over his delusions. He loved him, there was no way in nine hells you could be around Jesse for five minutes and not love him, but the love involved accepting some unusual quirks.
Like when his partner ordered an untested, non-FDA approved blue serum over the internet, jumped his unsuspecting partner, tried to convince same partner that he had gone to a doctor under a fake name when he had really just peed on a stick and claimed to be the first legitimate pregnant male in the history of mankind.
Oh, and a list of how to survive a zombie attack.
Now here they were, completely dressed and waiting for the two complete strangers to knock on the door and confirm his precious red-head’s insanity. He couldn’t wait.
Shawn considered himself a logical person. He thought that Jesse should be driven to the nearest hospital and checked for poison, after he’d been gagged so he wouldn’t end up in the nearest insane asylum of course. Apparently this meant he was an unsupportive partner hell bent on destroying the best thing to happen to gay mankind instead.
Logic should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.
Since the hospital thing was shot he was now sitting in his living room waiting for the two lunatics who supposedly invented this scientific marvel to show up instead of the private night he deserved. There had to be some kind of cosmic pay off for keeping his lover away from the rest of the world. There were list multiplying like rabbits on hormone drugs all over the house. The one he found taped to the bathroom mirror had been titled “How to Zombie-proof the Baby’s Room.”
“There are no such things as zombies,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’ll be glad for that missile silo when they start showing up on the news.”
He was going with the theory that a fake pregnancy gave you supersonic hearing.
“Wait, are you saying you’re actually buying a missile silo?”
“Don’t be silly.”
“Thank God.”
“*We* own a missile silo. I bought the thing years ago and added your name when we moved in together. I have enough supplies to last us for ten years, although I have to make some adjustments to my calculations now that the little one is on the way.” Jesse patted his stomach.”Don’t worry, hon, whether it’s zombies or mutants from nuclear fallout we’re prepared. How much do you think you ate in high school?”
Shawn made an immediate mental note to call Jesse’s mother in the morning and find out exactly how many times he’d been dropped on his head. There was just no way that it had only been once.
When the doorbell finally rang he leaped for it with a semi-controlled lunge. The last few hours had not lead him to believe that he’d be so desperate for two strangers to make sense of his life. Throwing the door open he froze. Peepholes, he reminded himself, you should always check the peephole. Door makers put them there for a reason.
The guy with the blue monk’s robe (and glowing red eyes) walked right in. “Hi, you’re Shawn, right? Please say you are because this is the third place we’ve stopped.” (Red eyes, all red, with no pupils and glowing)
“Well, if you’d printed the email out instead of writing it down maybe there would have been a chance of reading it.”
There was a woman in leather in his gay, and he didn’t mean happy, apartment.
She turned flipping her long hair over her shoulder, and winked. “Oh, you betcha, sweetheart, and I’m straight too. The horror never ends, does it?”
Shawn started to laugh helplessly. He wasn’t sure if this was a prank or the future state of his life, but either way it was worth the ride. Besides, Jesse loved to tell him that his sense of humor defined the word ludicrous. Speak of the devil, his lover was off the couch and taking over host duties.
“Can I offer you anything? We have water, juice, pop, coffee, tea…”
“I’d like a nice pair of underwear, please,” said Mr. Red Eyes.
The Amazon cuffed the back of his head, “Wrong story line! We’ll have tea, Long Island if you got it.”
Jesse didn’t even blink. “No, just regular tea, alcohol’s not good for the baby.”
“So, you’re already pregnant? Wonderful! How far along would you say you are?” The man in blue pulled a bottle of doctor’s grade gel and some other thing out of some pockets. “Lie down and pull up your shirt and unzip your pants, please.”
Jesse follows directions leading Shawn to tease, “Look at you! Half-naked in front of another man and I don’t even know his name.”
One hand waved the introduction to the second home invader while the other hand squirted the blue goop, which makes the warmth-loving red-head gasp and flail. Medical gel of any kind maintained the temperature of a snowball in the Arctic. Someone had better give him some names soon or his mind was going to spin its self into oblivion thinking up new descriptive terms for the people in his house.
“The near medical personage over there is Sidious…”
“Inventor, I’m an inventor!” He protested.
“And I’m Epona, known to few but loved by all.” She finished by striking a pose.
Shawn was stunned into immobility again. He’d rather have a bunch of trannys with stubble and prominent adam apples singing Cher than the two hippie fringe lunatics that had just invaded his house. There was something that looked like a holographic projection over his boyfriend’s stomach. Was he the only one with a problem with this?
“Jess,” He squeaked.
“Just go get them tea, baby.”
Screw that, he had an uncorked bottle of wine with his name on it. He could drink it really fast, and when he woke up in the morning this would all be a drunken cosplay nightmare? Maybe he could sneak out to the pet store and buy a mouse and let him loose in the living room so they leave? No, Jesse would probably want to keep it as a pet even if it worked, besides he hated rodents. They gave him the heebie jeebies and Jesse laughed his ass off every time Shawn screamed.
“Ha! I knew I could do it!” He heard Mr. Star Wars say as he left the room. “You owe me ten bucks and protection the next time I grope someone. He’s pregnant.”
Oh look, that second bottle was going to come in handy. He was so glad he had thought to pick up two, and vodka. He couldn’t wait to find out what kind of havoc vodka shots with wine chasers was going to give him.
TBC~