(for justangel) children of the bad revolution
For: justangel
Title: children of the bad revolution
Pairing: Jongin/Taemin/Baekhyun
Word Count: ~4,000 words
Rating: NC-17
Warnings:: typical zombie-related violence, mentions of smoking, offscreen minor character death, swearing
Summary: How To Win Friends and Influence People in the Zombie Apocalypse, by Kim Jongin
Author's Note: darling i’m a nightmare dressed like a gay meme
Rule #1: Tie your fucking shoes
The sky is the same ashy gray it always is, shrouded with cloud and dust and debris. Jongin can’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun in the blue sky; maybe a few weeks before everything had gone to shit, but even that’s too far back for him to remember. Even though he’s lived most of his life in a normal, functioning society, it seems like that’s a world of the past. It feels like it’s been like this forever--day and day out of struggling to scavenge for resources, occasionally running for his life, occasionally feeling like he’s gonna shit his pants from fear.
He guesses he doesn’t have it too bad. He could be one of those people he’s heard about trapped in the subway, stuck under the city where it’s like some kind of infested sea of the infected. At least he gets to breath fresh air, though “fresh” these days comes with a healthy lungful of dust and other probably cancerous shit.
Jongin supposes he should start coming up with some kind of method as to how he’s kept alive on his own for so long. Maybe he can publish a book or sell the rights to a movie or something once this is all over. Not that he can picture the world getting over this, honestly. If anything, at this point it’s more likely that either humanity is going to die out and maybe the zombies will begin the evolution process again or something, but whatever, he’s probably going to die before any of that happens, which he’s strangely okay with.
Just in case, though, he begins forming a mental list. It’ll be great, he thinks. He’ll call it Kim Jongin’s Guide to Zombie Apocalypse Survival, or some other redundant, self-explanatory shit like that. People like that kind of stuff, right?
Turns out, he might not be as smart about this whole thing as he’d originally thought, because as Jongin stands there in the middle of the street like a fucking imbecile pondering his relative success in the post-apocalypse, a snapper catches onto him and comes charging straight at him. Jongin turns just in time to see it and, honestly, he thinks he pees himself a little. God, he can never get over how generally disgusting they are. Not even all that scary, just like...genuinely repulsive. He’s honestly willing to die before he becomes one of those things, so long as he still has his token good looks.
It’s a good thing, though, that he’s fast. He decides to put that as the number one rule: be fast. If somehow you expect to live in this world by being slow as fuck, Jongin thinks, you’re living in the wrong world, buddy. Jongin’s fucking great at running, he’s like goddamn lightning. Gotta go fast, and all that shit. He’s the quickest hedgehog around. It’s probably the number one reason why he’s alive, and even though that’s sort of a thing that not all people can help or control, there’s not really much he can do. Be fast, or get eaten by zombies and die. Yeah, that’s about it.
He starts running and falls flat on his face, because his shoelaces are untied.
Jongin tries to scramble upwards, trips again, and curses himself for getting such intricately-laced shoes back in his hypebeast, pre-apocalypse days. He should have just gone with velcro. He’d look like a fucking nerd and probably lose all his swag and never get laid, but at then at least Future Jongin would be alive.
He quickly amends the list in his head. Tying your shoes is definitely number one, now. Or better yet, just wear laceless shoes, who cares if it cramps your style.
Rule #2: Gotta go fast
See above for explanation. The shoes and their tied status are definitely most important, but Jongin isn’t risking a lawsuit from Sega in his potential book-slash-movie just to make a pointless joke. Be fast, motherfucker.
Rule #3: Partner up
Jongin closes his eyes and braces for impact. This is it. This is how he’s gonna leave this world--eaten by a zombie because he forgot to tie his shoelaces.
Oh well. All in all, it was pretty good, he supposes. He’s not a virgin, he’s good looking as heck, he’s done the cinnamon challenge and survived, so pretty much all the bases have been covered. And you know what, fuck what everyone else thinks, at least he’s dying with his kicks fly as hell. And he respects himself for that.
The bite never comes; instead, a single shot rings through the air and the distinct sound of a body collapsing reaches Jongin’s ears. He opens his eyes slowly, looking up from the ground at his savior.
It’s another guy, and he’s holding a revolver up, pointed at where the snapper had been. He lowers it down to his side and steps forward as Jongin finally rights himself, getting to his feet and dusting off his jeans. He makes sure to tie his shoes before he rises. Double knots--no way those babies are coming undone.
“Hey,” he begins to say to the stranger, “thanks, man.” But the guy is looking at him strangely, like Jongin himself is a zombie--Jongin frowns because, uh, no, he’s already established that he’d rather die with his own face than become one of those things.
“Holy shit,” the guy says, “Jongin. Kim Jongin? Holy shit, that has to be you.”
“Uh, who’s asking?”
“Dude. Dude. Hello? It’s Taemin? Lee Taemin? We went to elementary and middle school together?”
Lee Taemin. Oh shit, it’s Lee Taemin.
“Oh, fuck dude! What the fuck!” Jongin exclaims, immediately moving forward to go in for their ultra secret super cool friendshake. They execute it perfectly, even the hip-bump at the end, and Jongin can’t believe he remembers it. He can’t believe Taemin remembers it. “Oh my god,” Jongin says. “I can’t believe it’s you, man, you look so different!”
Taemin’s hair is dyed bleach blond, strands falling like cornsilk over his eyes, save for the black that is beginning to show lightly at the roots, and he has a piercing in one ear. He looks…good, despite how ratty his clothes are and how generally dirty he looks (Jongin can let this slide, given the circumstances). He has that dark, vampy aesthetic going on, and Jongin can appreciate that.
“Yeah, well,” Taemin preens, running a hand through his hair. “So, what’ve you been up to these days?”
“Uh, well, before...everything, I was just in school. How about you?”
“Oh, haha, uh,” Taemin shrugs nonchalantly, “I’ve just been doing some stuff, here and there. It’s a good thing this apocalypse thing happened, though, or I might have never gotten out of jail.”
“Uh.” Jongin has no idea whether he’s joking or not, and Taemin smiles innocently. “I really didn’t expect to see you out here,” he says instead, deciding that, fuck it, the issue isn’t worth visiting. “And thanks for saving my ass back there, by the way.”
Taemin spins the revolver around his index finger proudly before blowing off the tip. “It’s no problem. That was my last bullet, though, so you owe me, probably.”
“You saved my life, man, you can have whatever you need.”
Taemin gives a wicked grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Rule #4: Get to know your partner
“Didn’t know this is what you had in mind for what you wanted from me,” Jongin pants as Taemin grinds their cocks together.
“Don’t tell me you hadn’t thought about it,” Taemin says, grin evident in his voice. Jongin can’t see for himself--he’s leaning heavily on Taemin’s bare shoulder, forehead pressed to the sweaty skin there as Taemin licks his hand and slicks it up their cocks. Jongin honestly hadn’t, but whatever, he can roll with this. Taemin is hot in his own way, even if Jongin has technically only been reunited with him for like a day, even if his upper lip kind of looks like the Batman logo.
“Also you looked like the fuckboy type. You were wearing Jordans,” Taemin laughs into his neck. He presses his thumb against the tip of Jongin’s dick, spreading precum around to make the glide easier.
“Rude,” Jongin mutters.
“Am I wrong?”
Jongin doesn’t reply, but not for lack of witty response. Taemin shifts his hips upwards, his cock sliding smoothly against Jongin’s in the circle of his fist, and it feels amazing, despite how bony Taemin’s hands are. Maybe it’s because it’s Taemin, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t had any in a while. Yeah, that’s probably the answer, because objectively, Jongin can’t rule this as the best handjob he’s ever gotten, not when he’s dated Byun “Hand Models Hate Him” Baekhyun. But everything down to the electricity shooting up his spine and the rush of arousal through his blood tells him otherwise.
“Fuck,” Taemin breathes between strokes. “I’ve always kind of had a thing for you, you know. Ever since middle school. Your stupid gym shorts were really short.”
Jongin hadn’t known, but he guesses that makes sense. He is extremely loveable, after all. The shorts thing is kind of uncomfortable, though. “It’s kind of weird that you’re bringing up middle school while we’re in the middle of doing this,” he says. “You’re kind of fucked up, aren’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up.” There’s amusement in his voice, and then Taemin is leaning his head upwards and catching Jongin by the back of his neck to pull him in for a sloppy, wet kiss with too much tongue and teeth.
Jongin comes like that, spending himself all over Taemin’s fist. Yeah, he thinks, looking down at the digits covered in his own and Taemin’s come, he’s no Byun Baekhyun, but Taemin’s hands are pretty nice.
He doesn’t expect Taemin to bring his hand up to his lips and dart his tongue out to lick his hand clean, lapping at it like some kind of cat would a bowl of cream.
“Dude,” Jongin says, furrowing his brows and wincing slightly. “That’s kinda gross.” Jongin hasn’t been eating or bathing himself properly for the past few weeks, and the same likely goes for Taemin, so he can’t imagine that tastes anything other than fucking vile.
“I crave that mineral,” Taemin says, expression dead serious as he wipes the corners of his mouth primly.
Jesus Christ, he’s one of those people, Jongin thinks. Whatever. He’s stuck with this now, he’ll just have to make the best of it.
“Whatever, Taememe,” Jongin says scathingly.
Taemin cackles. “Delete yourself, bitch,” he says afterwards, still snickering.
Rule #5: DO NOT APPROACH THE CRAZIES
Jongin had discovered this one very early on, maybe like three weeks into the whole thing. At the time, he’d been following Rule #3 with some random guy that he’d happened to bump into. Do Kyungsoo was his name. He had wide, round eyes and a heart shaped mouth and Jongin kind of thought he looked like one of those furbies that might suddenly animate in its sleep and kill you and your entire family. But also in a kind of hot way, it was very much one of those Confused Boner situations for Jongin.
Anyway, Do Kyungsoo had seemed like the docile lamb type, pretty quiet and unassuming except for when Jongin sometimes forgot to wash his underwear, which was when he’d get all passive-aggressive about Jongin’s B.O. Which, seriously? Soap was pretty hard to come by these days, Jongin thought he could have lightened up a bit. But, apparently, underneath that had been a quiet rage that had been strewing and brewing until one day, it had exploded and Jongin knew--Do Kyungsoo was a Certified Crazy.
What is a crazy, exactly?
They aren’t those slow-turning zombies that act like humans before they suddenly realize that hey, humans are pretty tasty looking so we should probably eat them, nor are they already-zombies that are just particularly enthusiastic about their meals.
No, crazies are people. People who suddenly decide, “fuck everything, I’m gonna go kill as many snappers as I can and I don’t fucking care if I endanger myself or everyone around me while doing it.” Crazies are those people with grudges, or anger, or maybe they just literally have no shits left to give, so they resolve to thinking that they are capable of destroying the entire zombie race singlehandedly.
Jongin thinks they should be avoided one hundred percent, because they’re spontaneous and unpredictable and dangerous, like ticking time bombs just waiting to explode in your face. Do Kyungsoo had been one, and that’s how he’d gotten himself killed. R.I.P. in pieces, literally. Jongin doesn’t plan to partner up with another one, not anytime soon.
(It’s good that Taemin appears to be rather rational when it comes to it though, even though he’s into some freaky shit in bed. Jongin’s toes are still cramping up from their prior night’s activities.)
But that? That person over there? The kid in the middle of a crowd of at least, like, ten zombies swinging an axe and yelling wildly?
Yeah, that dude’s definitely a crazy.
Jongin can tell, because his yell isn’t one of terror or determination. It’s manic, cackling, and laughing.
“Come on, you ugly fuckers! Is that all you got?” Jongin can hear from a distance, and he winces. The guy’s done for, really, and Jongin is surprised he’s still alive at all.
“Holy shit!” Taemin exclaims when he sees the guy. “We have to go help him!”
Apparently Taemin has never heard of Rule #5.
“Fuck no!” Jongin says, pulling Taemin back by the wrist. “He’s a goner, man, we can’t do anything.”
“I don’t wanna just watch as he gets himself killed, dude, that’s kinda fucked up!”
“We’re just gonna get ourselves killed in the process!”
But Taemin doesn’t listen. He wrenches himself out of Jongin’s grasp and runs forward, metal baseball bat they’d found a few days ago in position to swing.
Jongin heaves a huge, gigantic sigh. He takes back what he said about Taemin being rational; maybe Taemin is a crazy too.
There’s nothing he can really do. It’s a good thing Rule #2 works in his favor--he hopes that it does the same for Taemin and this random guy though, because Jongin is charging forward at top speed, pushing himself into the violent throng, and grabbing the two human wrists as fast as he can. He thinks Taemin bashes some skulls on their way out, but he’s not paying attention, even when the disgusting spray of wet...blood? Is it zombie blood? goes across his chest and back.
And then they’re off, running and running and running, way faster than those zombie fuckheads can keep up with. Ha, Jongin thinks. Losers.
When they’re finally in a deserted alleyway, panting with their hands braced on their knees, does Jongin care to address the stranger.
But he gets a good look at the guy, who’s wiping the sweat off his face with one, long-fingered, perfect-looking hand, and oh shit..
“Oh, shit. Baekhyun?!”
Baekhyun’s head snaps up, recognition lighting in his eyes. Yeah, that’s definitely Baekhyun alright.
“...Jongin?”
“Uh,” Taemin interrupts, “do you two know each other?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Jongin fidgets, “we were, uh, we--”
“This motherfucker,” Baekhyun says, looping an arm up around Jongin’s shoulders, “dumped me right before finals week. Why’d you do that, Jongin? Why didn’t you call me back, huh?” He digs his fingers into Jongin’s side, like he used to do when he was angry that Jongin had finished all the banana milk without saving him any.
“Ow! Sorry!” Jongin yelps, skittering. Taemin looks on, eyebrows raised in amusement. “It was a long time ago, man, can’t you just drop it?” he mumbles.
“Ugh,” Baekhyun scoffs. “Whatever. You turned out to be a hypebeast douchebag anyway. Not surprised, since you were cheating on me with Park Chanyeol of all people.” Baekhyun says the name like it’s venomous, spitting it out bitterly.
Ah, yes. Park Chanyeol and his beautiful, hung self. Jongin goes dreamy for a moment.
To the side, Taemin is snickering. “Really, Jongin?” he titters. “This guy?”
“What’s it to you, blondie?” Baekhyun says menacingly. Taemin straightens up, lips still twitching.
“Woah there kid, I just saved your life, how about some thanks?”
“I’m probably older than you?! And, uh, I was doing just fine, actually!” Baekhyun bites. He’s got that look in his eye, the same one he used to get when Jongin would do shit like bet he couldn’t fit a handful of sharpies in his butt. Jongin still isn’t sure which one he’s sorrier for, the sharpies or Baekhyun’s asshole.
“You obviously weren’t,” Taemin retorts. Oh, right, Jongin remembers. Taemin had that huge competitive streak too, even in middle school. This can’t be a good combination.
He kind of just covers his eyes and lets them bicker, trying to gradually inch away from them before they notice and call him out, telling him to “get the fuck back here, nerd,” (Taemin) and “where the fuck do you think you’re going, asshole?!” (Baekhyun).
So, yeah, he’s stuck with one crazy and one potential crazy. This can’t be good.
Rule #6: Don’t fuck your ex
Jongin thinks this is a good rule to live by in general, not just during the apocalypse. But it is especially relevant during the apocalypse, due to...uh, high chances of dying, germs, whatever, all that. You know, angsty, the-world-is-ending-what-the-fuck-is-going-on reasons.
So why exactly, then, are Jongin’s pants around his ankles and Baekhyun’s lips wrapped around his dick?
Earlier, Taemin had stumbled across an unfinished pack of cigarettes and said, tears honestly brimming in his eyes, that he was going to go outside to smoke them in peace “away from you two dweebs in peace and if you disturb me I’ll rip your balls off.”
It hadn’t taken ten minutes before Baekhyun had pounced on him, tackling Jongin onto the ratty, dusty warehouse floor and pulling his pants down.
It had been weird at first, and maybe Jongin hadn’t been exactly keeping the cleanest (not like Do Kyungsoo is around to nag at him about that anyway and Taemin honestly doesn’t seem to give a fuck), but he gets into it easily enough. It’s kind of familiar, the way Baekhyun sinks himself down with his mouth onto Jongin’s cock.
He threads his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair as Baekhyun tongues at his slit before going back down again. “Haven’t lost your touch, I see,” Jongin murmurs.
Baekhyun lets up then, cock popping from his lips wetly to glare up at Jongin. “Shut the fuck up,” he says viciously. “I know you’ve been fucking Taemin, by the way. I bet he’s not as good as me,” voice haughty and eyes blazing. “I look way better as a blond than he does, by the way. I’d show you, if Facebook were still around.”
“Uh,” Jongin says, not really sure what to say. It’s all very nice and good that Baekhyun seems to be jealous of Taemin and all--shows that hey, he’s still got it. But his dick is kind of getting cold and floor is really not that comfortable and he doesn’t even want to think about all the bugs that are probably around. “...I believe you?” he appeases, hoping that it will somehow spur Baekhyun back into motion.
Baekhyun narrows his eyes as if he’s aware of what Jongin is trying to do. But he wordlessly lowers his head again anyway, and Jongin closes his eyes.
Right, the rules. This is definitely, certainly, without a doubt breaking the rules, but, really, he’s just making those up as he goes along anyway.
Rule #7: Uh, disregard Rule #6. Definitely fuck your ex, and your childhood best friend, too. At the same time, if possible.
Whatever weird competition is going on between Taemin and Baekhyun (over Jongin? because of Jongin? Damn, he really does still got it) melts predictably after a few days. Namely, Jongin catches them making out against the dirty window of the abandoned office complex they’re taken up residence in after he comes back from taking a dump.
Things get easier after that, and maybe it’s not so bad, this whole world-ending, humanity-dying thing. Well, not for Jongin at least, considering he’s back to getting laid on the regular. Not even the zombie apocalypse can stop his flow. He really ought to pat himself on the back.
But, like Taemin, Baekhyun apparently has developed a taste for things on the wilder side since he’d last been with Jongin.
“Shit,” Jongin hisses one day, while he’s buried balls-deep in Baekhyun’s ass, “I think we forgot to bar the door last night, fuck. Lemme go real quick.”
He beings to draw himself out before Baekhyun pushes back violently, sliding his ass over Jongin’s cock with purpose.
“I swear to god, Kim Jongin, if you stop fucking me,” he says, removing his mouth from where it had been wrapped around Taemin’s dick. “The world could literally end right now, a hundred zombies could literally burst in through those doors right now and I still wouldn’t fucking care so,” he pushes back again, and Jongin forces down a groan, “don’t fucking stop.” He lowers his head back to Taemin’s cock without another word.
From across Baekhyun’s pale back, Taemin looks at him, shrugging slightly.
Jongin’s actually lost some of his vibe a little, particularly at the mention of a hundred zombies bursting through the door, but Baekhyun clenches around him and he gets it back within seconds.
What can he do, really. He guesses if those unbarricaded doors really are busted open, at least he’ll die the way he lived--with his dick in a guy’s butt. Not such a bad way to go.
Rule #8: Screw the rules, I have guns
Two weeks later, they stumble across an abandoned Jeep in a parking lot outside a strip mall. There’s a dead body inside that Taemin disposes of with a scary quickness that tells Jongin that yeah, he’s definitely done that before.
When they pop the trunk, inside are approximately a metric fuckton of guns, firearms, and other weapons.
“...Hell ya,” Taemin breathes reverently.
“Fuckin right,” Jongin completes, before Baekhyun finally finds his voice and proceeds to screech with joy at the literal top of his lungs.
Now that he’s partnering with people like Baekhyun and Taemin, who put together definitely add up to at least 1.5 Crazies, he figures, fuck it. There’s not much more that Jongin can do with his life, and his list can posthumously be renamed How To Die During the Zombie Apocalypse While Having Fun, or something. That’s still pretty good, right? People nowadays have that whole YOLO frame of mind anyways, right?
“I’m so ready,” Baekhyun whispers, bouncing in his seat as they drive to the most populated place they can think of--the mall. (Actually, Jongin thinks about the subway, but he thinks he values his life a little more than that, no matter how many guns they have in the back.) “I’m so ready, I’m so ready, this is gonna be so sick.”
“Yeah, fuck,” Taemin agrees, one hand on the wheel. There’s at least a quarter tank of gas left, more than enough to get them where they need to go. “I wish I still had my phone, this shit would get so many loops on Vine,” he laments. He looks over at Jongin, who is quiet in the backseat. “You still sure you’re up for this, Jongin? I know you’re kind of a pussy.”
“Nah,” Jongin says, waving it off, even though he is a little nervous inside. But it’s okay, they have literally a gajillion guns. “I love to die. It’s cool.”
It’s way crazier than Jongin had predicted. They’re fucking everywhere, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen his many regular people at the mall before, back when things were normal. To his side, Baekhyun is laughing wildly as he mows zombies down left and right with a machine gun while Taemin is in the corner--what is he doing, anyway?
“Holy shit, Taemin,” Jongin yells, “are you planting a fucking bomb?!”
“You fucking bet I am,” he yells back. How does Taemin even know how to do that? Jongin’s willing to bet it has something to do with how quickly he can dispose of dead bodies.
“What?!” Baekhyun protests, looking over for a split second before shooting a zombie’s head clean off. “That’s no fun!”
“It is too,” Taemin insists. “And besides, I’m not as crazy as you, there’s no way we can kill all these motherfuckers by ourselves.”
“Just one day. I just want one day of fun, and you always have to go and ruin it.”
“Uh, whatever, can we just get out of here? Especially if that thing’s gonna blow,” Jongin says urgently, clutching his M1A4 tightly. He hasn’t actually shot anything yet.
“Yeah, we’re gonna wanna get out now,” Taemin rises, eyeing the ticking numbers red numbers on the face of the bomb.
“You two ruin everything,” Baekhyun sighs dramatically, but he complies, and they hightail it out of there.
Out in the parking lot, Taemin alerts them that it should blow any minute. “I swear to god, if any of you fucking look back, I’m going to kill you. I’ve waited my entire life for this moment.”
And then, it blows with a deafening boom, and the three of them are sent forward with the force of the explosion, dust and debris and smoke billowing through the air as the mall goes up in flames. It takes a while before Jongin is ready to open his eyes after he’d squeezed them shut with his hands over his face, but when he does, Taemin is beside him, laughing wildly. Even Baekhyun is looking rather impressed.
“I have to admit,” he says as they stare at the flaming wreckage, “that was pretty cool.”
“I told you!” Taemin says excitedly, helping the two of them to their feet. Jongin kind of feels like he’s going to cry, and he’d fucked up his elbow a little bit after falling.
“Alright, but next time, we’re doing it my way.”
Next time? Jesus Christ, Jongin wonders if he isn’t better just ditching them and going off on his own again. He’s made it this far most by himself, right?
But as he watches Taemin playfully shove Baekhyun and affectionately call him a fuckface, he realizes that this is probably it. He’s probably stuck with these two for the rest of however long this lasts. He might even die with them and, as Jongin wipes his face off and joins them in the car, he guesses that’s not such a bad way to go.
Title: children of the bad revolution
Pairing: Jongin/Taemin/Baekhyun
Word Count: ~4,000 words
Rating: NC-17
Warnings:: typical zombie-related violence, mentions of smoking, offscreen minor character death, swearing
Summary: How To Win Friends and Influence People in the Zombie Apocalypse, by Kim Jongin
Author's Note: darling i’m a nightmare dressed like a gay meme
Rule #1: Tie your fucking shoes
The sky is the same ashy gray it always is, shrouded with cloud and dust and debris. Jongin can’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun in the blue sky; maybe a few weeks before everything had gone to shit, but even that’s too far back for him to remember. Even though he’s lived most of his life in a normal, functioning society, it seems like that’s a world of the past. It feels like it’s been like this forever--day and day out of struggling to scavenge for resources, occasionally running for his life, occasionally feeling like he’s gonna shit his pants from fear.
He guesses he doesn’t have it too bad. He could be one of those people he’s heard about trapped in the subway, stuck under the city where it’s like some kind of infested sea of the infected. At least he gets to breath fresh air, though “fresh” these days comes with a healthy lungful of dust and other probably cancerous shit.
Jongin supposes he should start coming up with some kind of method as to how he’s kept alive on his own for so long. Maybe he can publish a book or sell the rights to a movie or something once this is all over. Not that he can picture the world getting over this, honestly. If anything, at this point it’s more likely that either humanity is going to die out and maybe the zombies will begin the evolution process again or something, but whatever, he’s probably going to die before any of that happens, which he’s strangely okay with.
Just in case, though, he begins forming a mental list. It’ll be great, he thinks. He’ll call it Kim Jongin’s Guide to Zombie Apocalypse Survival, or some other redundant, self-explanatory shit like that. People like that kind of stuff, right?
Turns out, he might not be as smart about this whole thing as he’d originally thought, because as Jongin stands there in the middle of the street like a fucking imbecile pondering his relative success in the post-apocalypse, a snapper catches onto him and comes charging straight at him. Jongin turns just in time to see it and, honestly, he thinks he pees himself a little. God, he can never get over how generally disgusting they are. Not even all that scary, just like...genuinely repulsive. He’s honestly willing to die before he becomes one of those things, so long as he still has his token good looks.
It’s a good thing, though, that he’s fast. He decides to put that as the number one rule: be fast. If somehow you expect to live in this world by being slow as fuck, Jongin thinks, you’re living in the wrong world, buddy. Jongin’s fucking great at running, he’s like goddamn lightning. Gotta go fast, and all that shit. He’s the quickest hedgehog around. It’s probably the number one reason why he’s alive, and even though that’s sort of a thing that not all people can help or control, there’s not really much he can do. Be fast, or get eaten by zombies and die. Yeah, that’s about it.
He starts running and falls flat on his face, because his shoelaces are untied.
Jongin tries to scramble upwards, trips again, and curses himself for getting such intricately-laced shoes back in his hypebeast, pre-apocalypse days. He should have just gone with velcro. He’d look like a fucking nerd and probably lose all his swag and never get laid, but at then at least Future Jongin would be alive.
He quickly amends the list in his head. Tying your shoes is definitely number one, now. Or better yet, just wear laceless shoes, who cares if it cramps your style.
Rule #2: Gotta go fast
See above for explanation. The shoes and their tied status are definitely most important, but Jongin isn’t risking a lawsuit from Sega in his potential book-slash-movie just to make a pointless joke. Be fast, motherfucker.
Rule #3: Partner up
Jongin closes his eyes and braces for impact. This is it. This is how he’s gonna leave this world--eaten by a zombie because he forgot to tie his shoelaces.
Oh well. All in all, it was pretty good, he supposes. He’s not a virgin, he’s good looking as heck, he’s done the cinnamon challenge and survived, so pretty much all the bases have been covered. And you know what, fuck what everyone else thinks, at least he’s dying with his kicks fly as hell. And he respects himself for that.
The bite never comes; instead, a single shot rings through the air and the distinct sound of a body collapsing reaches Jongin’s ears. He opens his eyes slowly, looking up from the ground at his savior.
It’s another guy, and he’s holding a revolver up, pointed at where the snapper had been. He lowers it down to his side and steps forward as Jongin finally rights himself, getting to his feet and dusting off his jeans. He makes sure to tie his shoes before he rises. Double knots--no way those babies are coming undone.
“Hey,” he begins to say to the stranger, “thanks, man.” But the guy is looking at him strangely, like Jongin himself is a zombie--Jongin frowns because, uh, no, he’s already established that he’d rather die with his own face than become one of those things.
“Holy shit,” the guy says, “Jongin. Kim Jongin? Holy shit, that has to be you.”
“Uh, who’s asking?”
“Dude. Dude. Hello? It’s Taemin? Lee Taemin? We went to elementary and middle school together?”
Lee Taemin. Oh shit, it’s Lee Taemin.
“Oh, fuck dude! What the fuck!” Jongin exclaims, immediately moving forward to go in for their ultra secret super cool friendshake. They execute it perfectly, even the hip-bump at the end, and Jongin can’t believe he remembers it. He can’t believe Taemin remembers it. “Oh my god,” Jongin says. “I can’t believe it’s you, man, you look so different!”
Taemin’s hair is dyed bleach blond, strands falling like cornsilk over his eyes, save for the black that is beginning to show lightly at the roots, and he has a piercing in one ear. He looks…good, despite how ratty his clothes are and how generally dirty he looks (Jongin can let this slide, given the circumstances). He has that dark, vampy aesthetic going on, and Jongin can appreciate that.
“Yeah, well,” Taemin preens, running a hand through his hair. “So, what’ve you been up to these days?”
“Uh, well, before...everything, I was just in school. How about you?”
“Oh, haha, uh,” Taemin shrugs nonchalantly, “I’ve just been doing some stuff, here and there. It’s a good thing this apocalypse thing happened, though, or I might have never gotten out of jail.”
“Uh.” Jongin has no idea whether he’s joking or not, and Taemin smiles innocently. “I really didn’t expect to see you out here,” he says instead, deciding that, fuck it, the issue isn’t worth visiting. “And thanks for saving my ass back there, by the way.”
Taemin spins the revolver around his index finger proudly before blowing off the tip. “It’s no problem. That was my last bullet, though, so you owe me, probably.”
“You saved my life, man, you can have whatever you need.”
Taemin gives a wicked grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Rule #4: Get to know your partner
“Didn’t know this is what you had in mind for what you wanted from me,” Jongin pants as Taemin grinds their cocks together.
“Don’t tell me you hadn’t thought about it,” Taemin says, grin evident in his voice. Jongin can’t see for himself--he’s leaning heavily on Taemin’s bare shoulder, forehead pressed to the sweaty skin there as Taemin licks his hand and slicks it up their cocks. Jongin honestly hadn’t, but whatever, he can roll with this. Taemin is hot in his own way, even if Jongin has technically only been reunited with him for like a day, even if his upper lip kind of looks like the Batman logo.
“Also you looked like the fuckboy type. You were wearing Jordans,” Taemin laughs into his neck. He presses his thumb against the tip of Jongin’s dick, spreading precum around to make the glide easier.
“Rude,” Jongin mutters.
“Am I wrong?”
Jongin doesn’t reply, but not for lack of witty response. Taemin shifts his hips upwards, his cock sliding smoothly against Jongin’s in the circle of his fist, and it feels amazing, despite how bony Taemin’s hands are. Maybe it’s because it’s Taemin, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t had any in a while. Yeah, that’s probably the answer, because objectively, Jongin can’t rule this as the best handjob he’s ever gotten, not when he’s dated Byun “Hand Models Hate Him” Baekhyun. But everything down to the electricity shooting up his spine and the rush of arousal through his blood tells him otherwise.
“Fuck,” Taemin breathes between strokes. “I’ve always kind of had a thing for you, you know. Ever since middle school. Your stupid gym shorts were really short.”
Jongin hadn’t known, but he guesses that makes sense. He is extremely loveable, after all. The shorts thing is kind of uncomfortable, though. “It’s kind of weird that you’re bringing up middle school while we’re in the middle of doing this,” he says. “You’re kind of fucked up, aren’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up.” There’s amusement in his voice, and then Taemin is leaning his head upwards and catching Jongin by the back of his neck to pull him in for a sloppy, wet kiss with too much tongue and teeth.
Jongin comes like that, spending himself all over Taemin’s fist. Yeah, he thinks, looking down at the digits covered in his own and Taemin’s come, he’s no Byun Baekhyun, but Taemin’s hands are pretty nice.
He doesn’t expect Taemin to bring his hand up to his lips and dart his tongue out to lick his hand clean, lapping at it like some kind of cat would a bowl of cream.
“Dude,” Jongin says, furrowing his brows and wincing slightly. “That’s kinda gross.” Jongin hasn’t been eating or bathing himself properly for the past few weeks, and the same likely goes for Taemin, so he can’t imagine that tastes anything other than fucking vile.
“I crave that mineral,” Taemin says, expression dead serious as he wipes the corners of his mouth primly.
Jesus Christ, he’s one of those people, Jongin thinks. Whatever. He’s stuck with this now, he’ll just have to make the best of it.
“Whatever, Taememe,” Jongin says scathingly.
Taemin cackles. “Delete yourself, bitch,” he says afterwards, still snickering.
Rule #5: DO NOT APPROACH THE CRAZIES
Jongin had discovered this one very early on, maybe like three weeks into the whole thing. At the time, he’d been following Rule #3 with some random guy that he’d happened to bump into. Do Kyungsoo was his name. He had wide, round eyes and a heart shaped mouth and Jongin kind of thought he looked like one of those furbies that might suddenly animate in its sleep and kill you and your entire family. But also in a kind of hot way, it was very much one of those Confused Boner situations for Jongin.
Anyway, Do Kyungsoo had seemed like the docile lamb type, pretty quiet and unassuming except for when Jongin sometimes forgot to wash his underwear, which was when he’d get all passive-aggressive about Jongin’s B.O. Which, seriously? Soap was pretty hard to come by these days, Jongin thought he could have lightened up a bit. But, apparently, underneath that had been a quiet rage that had been strewing and brewing until one day, it had exploded and Jongin knew--Do Kyungsoo was a Certified Crazy.
What is a crazy, exactly?
They aren’t those slow-turning zombies that act like humans before they suddenly realize that hey, humans are pretty tasty looking so we should probably eat them, nor are they already-zombies that are just particularly enthusiastic about their meals.
No, crazies are people. People who suddenly decide, “fuck everything, I’m gonna go kill as many snappers as I can and I don’t fucking care if I endanger myself or everyone around me while doing it.” Crazies are those people with grudges, or anger, or maybe they just literally have no shits left to give, so they resolve to thinking that they are capable of destroying the entire zombie race singlehandedly.
Jongin thinks they should be avoided one hundred percent, because they’re spontaneous and unpredictable and dangerous, like ticking time bombs just waiting to explode in your face. Do Kyungsoo had been one, and that’s how he’d gotten himself killed. R.I.P. in pieces, literally. Jongin doesn’t plan to partner up with another one, not anytime soon.
(It’s good that Taemin appears to be rather rational when it comes to it though, even though he’s into some freaky shit in bed. Jongin’s toes are still cramping up from their prior night’s activities.)
But that? That person over there? The kid in the middle of a crowd of at least, like, ten zombies swinging an axe and yelling wildly?
Yeah, that dude’s definitely a crazy.
Jongin can tell, because his yell isn’t one of terror or determination. It’s manic, cackling, and laughing.
“Come on, you ugly fuckers! Is that all you got?” Jongin can hear from a distance, and he winces. The guy’s done for, really, and Jongin is surprised he’s still alive at all.
“Holy shit!” Taemin exclaims when he sees the guy. “We have to go help him!”
Apparently Taemin has never heard of Rule #5.
“Fuck no!” Jongin says, pulling Taemin back by the wrist. “He’s a goner, man, we can’t do anything.”
“I don’t wanna just watch as he gets himself killed, dude, that’s kinda fucked up!”
“We’re just gonna get ourselves killed in the process!”
But Taemin doesn’t listen. He wrenches himself out of Jongin’s grasp and runs forward, metal baseball bat they’d found a few days ago in position to swing.
Jongin heaves a huge, gigantic sigh. He takes back what he said about Taemin being rational; maybe Taemin is a crazy too.
There’s nothing he can really do. It’s a good thing Rule #2 works in his favor--he hopes that it does the same for Taemin and this random guy though, because Jongin is charging forward at top speed, pushing himself into the violent throng, and grabbing the two human wrists as fast as he can. He thinks Taemin bashes some skulls on their way out, but he’s not paying attention, even when the disgusting spray of wet...blood? Is it zombie blood? goes across his chest and back.
And then they’re off, running and running and running, way faster than those zombie fuckheads can keep up with. Ha, Jongin thinks. Losers.
When they’re finally in a deserted alleyway, panting with their hands braced on their knees, does Jongin care to address the stranger.
But he gets a good look at the guy, who’s wiping the sweat off his face with one, long-fingered, perfect-looking hand, and oh shit..
“Oh, shit. Baekhyun?!”
Baekhyun’s head snaps up, recognition lighting in his eyes. Yeah, that’s definitely Baekhyun alright.
“...Jongin?”
“Uh,” Taemin interrupts, “do you two know each other?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Jongin fidgets, “we were, uh, we--”
“This motherfucker,” Baekhyun says, looping an arm up around Jongin’s shoulders, “dumped me right before finals week. Why’d you do that, Jongin? Why didn’t you call me back, huh?” He digs his fingers into Jongin’s side, like he used to do when he was angry that Jongin had finished all the banana milk without saving him any.
“Ow! Sorry!” Jongin yelps, skittering. Taemin looks on, eyebrows raised in amusement. “It was a long time ago, man, can’t you just drop it?” he mumbles.
“Ugh,” Baekhyun scoffs. “Whatever. You turned out to be a hypebeast douchebag anyway. Not surprised, since you were cheating on me with Park Chanyeol of all people.” Baekhyun says the name like it’s venomous, spitting it out bitterly.
Ah, yes. Park Chanyeol and his beautiful, hung self. Jongin goes dreamy for a moment.
To the side, Taemin is snickering. “Really, Jongin?” he titters. “This guy?”
“What’s it to you, blondie?” Baekhyun says menacingly. Taemin straightens up, lips still twitching.
“Woah there kid, I just saved your life, how about some thanks?”
“I’m probably older than you?! And, uh, I was doing just fine, actually!” Baekhyun bites. He’s got that look in his eye, the same one he used to get when Jongin would do shit like bet he couldn’t fit a handful of sharpies in his butt. Jongin still isn’t sure which one he’s sorrier for, the sharpies or Baekhyun’s asshole.
“You obviously weren’t,” Taemin retorts. Oh, right, Jongin remembers. Taemin had that huge competitive streak too, even in middle school. This can’t be a good combination.
He kind of just covers his eyes and lets them bicker, trying to gradually inch away from them before they notice and call him out, telling him to “get the fuck back here, nerd,” (Taemin) and “where the fuck do you think you’re going, asshole?!” (Baekhyun).
So, yeah, he’s stuck with one crazy and one potential crazy. This can’t be good.
Rule #6: Don’t fuck your ex
Jongin thinks this is a good rule to live by in general, not just during the apocalypse. But it is especially relevant during the apocalypse, due to...uh, high chances of dying, germs, whatever, all that. You know, angsty, the-world-is-ending-what-the-fuck-is-going-on reasons.
So why exactly, then, are Jongin’s pants around his ankles and Baekhyun’s lips wrapped around his dick?
Earlier, Taemin had stumbled across an unfinished pack of cigarettes and said, tears honestly brimming in his eyes, that he was going to go outside to smoke them in peace “away from you two dweebs in peace and if you disturb me I’ll rip your balls off.”
It hadn’t taken ten minutes before Baekhyun had pounced on him, tackling Jongin onto the ratty, dusty warehouse floor and pulling his pants down.
It had been weird at first, and maybe Jongin hadn’t been exactly keeping the cleanest (not like Do Kyungsoo is around to nag at him about that anyway and Taemin honestly doesn’t seem to give a fuck), but he gets into it easily enough. It’s kind of familiar, the way Baekhyun sinks himself down with his mouth onto Jongin’s cock.
He threads his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair as Baekhyun tongues at his slit before going back down again. “Haven’t lost your touch, I see,” Jongin murmurs.
Baekhyun lets up then, cock popping from his lips wetly to glare up at Jongin. “Shut the fuck up,” he says viciously. “I know you’ve been fucking Taemin, by the way. I bet he’s not as good as me,” voice haughty and eyes blazing. “I look way better as a blond than he does, by the way. I’d show you, if Facebook were still around.”
“Uh,” Jongin says, not really sure what to say. It’s all very nice and good that Baekhyun seems to be jealous of Taemin and all--shows that hey, he’s still got it. But his dick is kind of getting cold and floor is really not that comfortable and he doesn’t even want to think about all the bugs that are probably around. “...I believe you?” he appeases, hoping that it will somehow spur Baekhyun back into motion.
Baekhyun narrows his eyes as if he’s aware of what Jongin is trying to do. But he wordlessly lowers his head again anyway, and Jongin closes his eyes.
Right, the rules. This is definitely, certainly, without a doubt breaking the rules, but, really, he’s just making those up as he goes along anyway.
Rule #7: Uh, disregard Rule #6. Definitely fuck your ex, and your childhood best friend, too. At the same time, if possible.
Whatever weird competition is going on between Taemin and Baekhyun (over Jongin? because of Jongin? Damn, he really does still got it) melts predictably after a few days. Namely, Jongin catches them making out against the dirty window of the abandoned office complex they’re taken up residence in after he comes back from taking a dump.
Things get easier after that, and maybe it’s not so bad, this whole world-ending, humanity-dying thing. Well, not for Jongin at least, considering he’s back to getting laid on the regular. Not even the zombie apocalypse can stop his flow. He really ought to pat himself on the back.
But, like Taemin, Baekhyun apparently has developed a taste for things on the wilder side since he’d last been with Jongin.
“Shit,” Jongin hisses one day, while he’s buried balls-deep in Baekhyun’s ass, “I think we forgot to bar the door last night, fuck. Lemme go real quick.”
He beings to draw himself out before Baekhyun pushes back violently, sliding his ass over Jongin’s cock with purpose.
“I swear to god, Kim Jongin, if you stop fucking me,” he says, removing his mouth from where it had been wrapped around Taemin’s dick. “The world could literally end right now, a hundred zombies could literally burst in through those doors right now and I still wouldn’t fucking care so,” he pushes back again, and Jongin forces down a groan, “don’t fucking stop.” He lowers his head back to Taemin’s cock without another word.
From across Baekhyun’s pale back, Taemin looks at him, shrugging slightly.
Jongin’s actually lost some of his vibe a little, particularly at the mention of a hundred zombies bursting through the door, but Baekhyun clenches around him and he gets it back within seconds.
What can he do, really. He guesses if those unbarricaded doors really are busted open, at least he’ll die the way he lived--with his dick in a guy’s butt. Not such a bad way to go.
Rule #8: Screw the rules, I have guns
Two weeks later, they stumble across an abandoned Jeep in a parking lot outside a strip mall. There’s a dead body inside that Taemin disposes of with a scary quickness that tells Jongin that yeah, he’s definitely done that before.
When they pop the trunk, inside are approximately a metric fuckton of guns, firearms, and other weapons.
“...Hell ya,” Taemin breathes reverently.
“Fuckin right,” Jongin completes, before Baekhyun finally finds his voice and proceeds to screech with joy at the literal top of his lungs.
Now that he’s partnering with people like Baekhyun and Taemin, who put together definitely add up to at least 1.5 Crazies, he figures, fuck it. There’s not much more that Jongin can do with his life, and his list can posthumously be renamed How To Die During the Zombie Apocalypse While Having Fun, or something. That’s still pretty good, right? People nowadays have that whole YOLO frame of mind anyways, right?
“I’m so ready,” Baekhyun whispers, bouncing in his seat as they drive to the most populated place they can think of--the mall. (Actually, Jongin thinks about the subway, but he thinks he values his life a little more than that, no matter how many guns they have in the back.) “I’m so ready, I’m so ready, this is gonna be so sick.”
“Yeah, fuck,” Taemin agrees, one hand on the wheel. There’s at least a quarter tank of gas left, more than enough to get them where they need to go. “I wish I still had my phone, this shit would get so many loops on Vine,” he laments. He looks over at Jongin, who is quiet in the backseat. “You still sure you’re up for this, Jongin? I know you’re kind of a pussy.”
“Nah,” Jongin says, waving it off, even though he is a little nervous inside. But it’s okay, they have literally a gajillion guns. “I love to die. It’s cool.”
It’s way crazier than Jongin had predicted. They’re fucking everywhere, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen his many regular people at the mall before, back when things were normal. To his side, Baekhyun is laughing wildly as he mows zombies down left and right with a machine gun while Taemin is in the corner--what is he doing, anyway?
“Holy shit, Taemin,” Jongin yells, “are you planting a fucking bomb?!”
“You fucking bet I am,” he yells back. How does Taemin even know how to do that? Jongin’s willing to bet it has something to do with how quickly he can dispose of dead bodies.
“What?!” Baekhyun protests, looking over for a split second before shooting a zombie’s head clean off. “That’s no fun!”
“It is too,” Taemin insists. “And besides, I’m not as crazy as you, there’s no way we can kill all these motherfuckers by ourselves.”
“Just one day. I just want one day of fun, and you always have to go and ruin it.”
“Uh, whatever, can we just get out of here? Especially if that thing’s gonna blow,” Jongin says urgently, clutching his M1A4 tightly. He hasn’t actually shot anything yet.
“Yeah, we’re gonna wanna get out now,” Taemin rises, eyeing the ticking numbers red numbers on the face of the bomb.
“You two ruin everything,” Baekhyun sighs dramatically, but he complies, and they hightail it out of there.
Out in the parking lot, Taemin alerts them that it should blow any minute. “I swear to god, if any of you fucking look back, I’m going to kill you. I’ve waited my entire life for this moment.”
And then, it blows with a deafening boom, and the three of them are sent forward with the force of the explosion, dust and debris and smoke billowing through the air as the mall goes up in flames. It takes a while before Jongin is ready to open his eyes after he’d squeezed them shut with his hands over his face, but when he does, Taemin is beside him, laughing wildly. Even Baekhyun is looking rather impressed.
“I have to admit,” he says as they stare at the flaming wreckage, “that was pretty cool.”
“I told you!” Taemin says excitedly, helping the two of them to their feet. Jongin kind of feels like he’s going to cry, and he’d fucked up his elbow a little bit after falling.
“Alright, but next time, we’re doing it my way.”
Next time? Jesus Christ, Jongin wonders if he isn’t better just ditching them and going off on his own again. He’s made it this far most by himself, right?
But as he watches Taemin playfully shove Baekhyun and affectionately call him a fuckface, he realizes that this is probably it. He’s probably stuck with these two for the rest of however long this lasts. He might even die with them and, as Jongin wipes his face off and joins them in the car, he guesses that’s not such a bad way to go.