Fic: Touch [Nellis]
There were a few things that Nick had learned about the miscreant crew he was forced to be with during the apocalypse. They were small mannerisms, but each one was distinct in their own little way. He was sure that they more than likely knew how he worked by this point as well.
Rochelle was the mother of the group; always asking if they were alright and looking out for not only their physical but also mental health as much as she could. She got twitchy more often when one of her boy’s lives was in danger than her own. He didn’t know if she had children yet or not, but it was obvious that if she did/was going to she had that voice and look down perfectly. He didn’t like admitting that he felt like a guilty 8-year-old when she went after him for not looking after the others… so he made a point not to mention it.
Coach was… well just that, a coach. He tried to motivate the team to move on, as if they needed it. He wasn’t really an optimist, but at least he left the pessimism to Nick. Always staying in that ‘safety first’ phase that comes along with sports, he tried to get everyone off as best he could. Nick could respect that, even if some of his nagging got on his nerves.
Then there was Ellis. Ellis was the resident optimist on acid that seemed to enjoy the apocalypse as if he was in the middle of some video game where he had unlimited lives. He didn’t, and should have known that by now, but there was no talking to him about common sense.
Another interesting thing about the kid was that he liked to touch.
Nick had started to notice it around the same time he had resigned to his fate about being stuck with the pack. If Nick took on a horde without getting hurt, the hick would be right there to slap his back in congratulations. If he did get hurt, El would be there checking his wounds. Touching- always touching.
Now he figured that looking at wounds were alright, someone needed to do it after all, and even the occasional congratulations for killing zombies was alright- they knew the kid got carried away. It was a week later when the other shit started happening that grated on the conman’s nerves.
At night, when they found a place to hunker down that was safe, he would sling an arm around Nick’s shoulder as if they were buddies, only to be shrugged off. Nick never cared about the sudden dejected look that crossed the others face, honest.
He would take longer than necessary on patching Nick up when he needed it, running his fingers over the wounded areas in something akin to a caress. It, of course, never sent a shiver down Nick’s spine and made him wonder what would happen if he ever let the touch continue. He would stop the other and make sure he made his point that Ellis should just focus on the wounds.
There were more incidents, little touches and bumps as they prowled the streets and fought the infected off. He didn’t call the kid on them, didn’t have time, but he felt them all the same. He figured that it didn’t matter, just his paranoia getting the best of him. Plus it wasn’t like he reciprocated or anything. He kept with that premise for another couple of weeks, trying to ignore the touches.
They found a safe house in an old house, deserted of life. Using the furniture and a few wooden slats that were in the garage they barricaded all of the weak points. It was eerie there, mostly due to the normalcy of it all. It looked like the family that had lived there just vanished, leaving behind their whole life. Coach was sitting in a chair facing the front door with a shotgun in hand. Nick was leaning against one of the walls while Rochelle and Ellis were looking around the house for anything of use.
“Guys!” Everyone jumped and looked at a grinning Rochelle who was barreling out of the kitchen. “You’ll never guess what I found! They have a gas stove!” She was stared at blankly for a moment a sighed, “Meaning that it works and there is even soup in here.” That was when the cheering started… at least from Ellis and Coach. Nick just shook his head, even if the prospect of a decent meal for once sounded amazing. “I’ll go get it start-“ she was cut off.
“Wait, Ro, I need to tell ya what I found. House got three rooms, master and then two more. One looks like it was some kinda girl’s and the other got two twins. Figure it was a family with three kids, ya know?” Everyone nodded, relieved that there were enough beds to go around tonight. “So I was thinkin’ that Ro can have the girl’s room and Nick an’ I will take the two twins.”
“Sounds good.” Rochelle said before disappearing into the kitchen. Well she seemed happy to abide by this plan at least.
“Wait, why do I have to share with you Overalls?” Nick ground out.
“’Cause there is no way in hell that Coach is fittin’ on the smaller bed comfortably.” Ellis shrugged, but there was something behind his eyes that Nick couldn’t place. He didn’t like not being able to read people and generally the hick was an open book. Suddenly he couldn’t place his motives. He refused to answer to that, but did resign himself to sharing a room with Ellis.
About ten minutes later Ro called them to dinner, having found enough bowls for them- sadly without spoons. It was a simple minestrone soup, but it was hot and nearly gourmet for them. Everyone slurped it up greedily, and messily, even when they were trying to act decent about the whole thing. When the bowls were finally put down everyone shared in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t a surprise on who had to go and break it.
“Hey Nick ya got somethin’…” he motioned to his own lip. Nick sighed and tried to dislodge the offending piece of food. Ellis shook his head, “Naw, here.” He cupped the older man’s chin as his thumb swiped over his upper lip. Nick almost jerked back, that much contact was completely unnecessary for something like that. “There ya go.”
He got a certain look from both Coach and Rochelle and he was not fond of being the center of that kind of attention. “I’m going to go sleep.” He ground out and got up from the table, moving toward the room he was sharing with Ellis. At least if he fell asleep first he wouldn’t have to deal with the kid.
Stripping himself jacket, shirt, and shoes he sunk into the mattress and thanked whatever deity that was listening that there was an actual blanket to use. The sleeping bags were better than nothing, but a bed was a definite improvement. He closed his eyes, trying to forget about the zombies, and Ellis. A few minutes later he was out.
Warm lips against his, hands running up soft skin. Nice supple curves that give way to defined mussel and short cropped hair. Hand encompassing his hardening flesh, stroking teasingly. “Nick~” his name purred into his ear, that sexy southern drawl as lips suckle kisses onto his neck; warm body looming over his…
“Ellis!” Nick gasped out, eyes finally opening from his dream. He can still feel those kisses on his neck, the warmth and almost almost hear that voice say…
“Hm, took ya long ‘nough Nick.” The words are chuckled as lips continue to work on Nick’s neck, hands running down his exposed chest. Ellis is suddenly looming over him; grin wide as he takes in the older man’s flushed skin and confused expression. “Got tired of waitin’. Plus when I say that you were all hot and bothered over here…” to accentuate his point he pushed his hand down Nick’s pants and caressed his hardened flesh, “…I figured what the hell, he might be thinkin’ ‘bout little ol’ me.”
Nick gasped at the contact, but his brain was still stuck on one little detail in that speech. “Waiting?” He raised a brow of him.
“Really? Thought you were cleverer than that, man! I wouldn’t be grabbin’ at ya as much as I do if I wasn’t interested!”
“You little shit.” Nick growled and rolled them over on the bed so he was on top. “Going to make you wish you hadn’t woken me up.”
Ellis didn’t seem to mind at all.