You and Me and the End of the World [Teachers, Kurt/Brian, PG13]
Title: You and Me and the End of the World
Author: lakester
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Kinda apocalyptic themes, I guess?
Summary: The world might end, but at least that means no going to work at Summerdown in the morning. Upsides to the apocalypse.
Prompt: Teachers, Kurt&Brian (or Kurt/Brian): zombie apocalypse - they want our brains
“We’re late.” The corridors this close to the staff room are empty. Clare instituted a fifty yard restraining order on pupils getting anywhere near it after someone took a lucky shot with an elastic band through the open doors.
“We’re not late,” argued Kurt.
“How can you think that?” Brian did his best not to loom, a habit picked up from being several inches - “Only three.” “Come on, even you cannot possibly be that delusional can you?” “Oh he can. And not only about his height.” - taller than his friend.
“I set your alarm clock an hour earlier.” Kurt smugly grinned up at Brian. “And your watch. And the singing daffodil radio.”
“What was the point of that?” Brian shouldered his way into the -for obvious reasons- empty room, door swinging back behind him.
“So you’d wake up earlier,” Kurt turned two cups resting in the sink the right way up and switched the kettle on. “You should have seen your face.”
“But you woke up as well,” Thinking his way through the sentence Brian picked up a couple of teabags from the tin Penny kept on top of her locker and threw them across the room. He dropped down on a soft chair, shifting as one of the legs perched through the dying padding.
“You’re right,” A cup of tea hovered in front of Brian’s eyes, and he took it. Kurt slumped down next to him. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Brian looked at him.
“What?”
~~~
“Oh that’s so cute,” Penny tilted her head and her ponytail swung away from her, showing off her neck.
“I don’t know that I’d call it cute exactly,” said Matt as he looked over her shoulder. “More like slightly disturbing.”
“And me without my camera,” agreed Lindsey. She flicked a conker at Kurt. It overshot - sailing over his head. Reaching into her pocket she found another one.
Matt leaned in and smiled. “Let me.” With trailing fingers he plucked the horse chestnut from her hand.
Across the room their target - the sleeping figures of Brian and Kurt - were still slumped against each other, Kurt snoring against Brian’s shoulder. There may have been drooling, frankly there were lengths Matt wasn’t prepared to go in order to humiliate a colleague. Well, that wasn’t exactly true - he hadn’t found any yet; but Matt imagined this might be one. The tossed conker arced away falling to strike Brian on the side of his face.
“Huh?” Brian startled up.
“What?” Kurt tipped down, caught his watch in the zip of Brian’s fleece and they struggled briefly. Disentanglement was eventually achieved, but not before Matt managed to retrieve the impromptu projectile.
“I believe these are yours.”
“Not exactly.” Lindsey pulled out a rolled up magazine, two cans of lager, two-thirds of a packet of cigarettes. “Confiscated from my class this morning.”
“Well,” said Matt, twisting the chestnuts between his fingers, “It’s our responsibility as teachers to destroy contraband materials.”
“Of course it is,” Lindsey managed to keep a straight face.
“In fact we really ought to do that now,” Matt offered her his arm with an exaggerated grin.
Lindsey nodded as she and Matt headed for the door, “If they’re too fucking stupid to hide it properly...” The door closed, cutting her off.
“I suppose I’ll just stand here,” said Penny, loudly, folding her arms in front of her.
“You could try teaching your class, Miss Neville.” Clare’s voice cut a trail of iced glass as she passed through. “You too, Mr McKenna, Mr Steadman. I’m not sure what it is you’re doing.”
“We’re…” “You see,”
“And I don’t care. You’re here to teach, not to enjoy yourselves.” Clare dropped a pile of leaflets on a table and swept out.
~~~
Brian was standing in front of a chalk drawing that was meant to be a representation of volcanic activity. Normally someone would mouth off about his drawing skills, but today the class had kept their heads down, stayed quiet, except for a low mutter he couldn’t quite hear.
“Can anyone tell me the three main reasons for earthquakes?” He glanced down at a textbook, just to check the answers.
The classroom door burst open, propelled by several stones of English teacher. “I need to talk to you, Brian.”
“Okay,” Brian looked at Simon, who kept picking at his shirt cuffs and looking round the room.
“Not here,” Simon hissed, jerking his head at the corridor.
“Fine.” Brian shrugged. He looked at the class. “Hang on a minute.”
A minute later Simon was hustling Brian down a corridor, words spilling out of his mouth. “I know, it might seem a little… odd, but you have to get out. Now. I always thought the Maths department was in league with the devil, although it was less thought they were summoning the undead and more that Sanders broke into my locker one time, but you’ve got to believe me.”
“Zombies.” Brian hadn’t exactly accepted the story yet. “You mean, brains and voodoo and…”
“I’m not sure of their religious affiliation,” interrupted Simon, exasperated. “I didn’t stop to ask.” He sighed. “Look. It’s not as if you usually need an excuse to leave early, even if I’m wrong. Which I’m not.”
Simon looked up at the clock hanging over the gym doors. “I’ve got to run.” Clapping Brian on the arm, with a “Good luck,” he turned round a corner and out of sight.
~~~
It was only five -ten minutes until the end of the lesson Brian had walked out of, so he found himself heading over to the computer lab.
Kurt was kneeling in the corridor outside his classroom. The door was shut, the noise beyond it ample indication of its occupancy. There was something on the floor by the door.
“There you are,” Kurt looked up hopefully. “Have you got a hammer?”
“Why would I have a hammer?”
“You might.” There was a reason he would too, but just now Kurt couldn’t think of one. Instead, he pointed at the wedge by the door. “Shove that in for me, mate.”
Brian kicked the piece of wood, wedging it under the door, and Kurt nodded. “And now, pub.”
~~~
“So did Simon tell you about the zombies, too?” Brian asked a few minutes later.
“Zombies?” Kurt shook his head. “Nah.”
“So that,” and Brian jerked a thumb behind them.
“I couldn’t stand it any more.” Kurt led the way out to the car park. “They kept asking questions. Honestly, is it my job to know when their exams are?”
“I guess not,” Brian shoved his hands in his pockets, rummaging for the car keys.
Bob stalked by, “I hope the rotting flesh falls off her, the cow. Up all night with the…”
Kurt and Brian watched him go past.
“Has his wife left him again?”
“Maybe,” said Kurt. “I’m wouldn’t be surprised, he certainly smells like it.”
Brian flicked on the car radio as Kurt fastened his seatbelt. Static, static, the Archers, static, Radio 4. He switched it off, and pulled out of the school gates. The donkey tied to the gate turned to gaze mournfully at the passing car. The left side of the blanket was embroiders with black letters ‘is nigh’.
“What did you say about zombies?”
~~~
Eight pints later everything looked better. Not the landlady, but then that much alcohol would be enough to blind a man. Eight pints just made cars disappear.
“Where did we leave the car?” Kurt looked around the almost empty pub car park.
The car stubbornly refused to show itself. So did Brian. The flare of a match led to the familiar smell of smoke and Kurt followed.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Matt’s voice was low, his face lit by the cigarette and shadowed by the nearby streetlamp.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare,” asked Kurt. “Only I’m all out.”
“That depends,” Kurt heard Matt’s smile.
“On what?”
“On whether you have something I want.” Matt seemed taller, and closer. “You’re not using them are you?” He leant in closer. Kurt could see stone-dead eyes, feel the lack of warmth of Matt’s breath, but the thing that leaped out was that Matt was missing a third of his head, as he whispered. “Your brains.”
A screech of brakes. Bright lights. A northern voice shouting, “Get in,” and a squelch as bumper impacted dead meat.
“Hurry up!” Wheels spun as Brian put the car in reverse, scraped along a nearby wall and accelerated into the distance.
Matt began to lever himself up, tugging at his legs. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Look on the bright side,” said Lindsey as she walked towards him, mallet in hand. “Now they’ll bend both ways.”
~~~
Brian reached for his hockey stick as his bedroom door opened.
“Oh it’s you,” and he shoved the stick back over his shoulder. Brian rolled over as Kurt, pushed the door to and shoved Margery back in front of the door. Kurt pulled the covers up over himself and looked at the ceiling.
“He wanted my brains,” Kurt’s words hung in the air.
Brian lay silently, trying to go back to sleep. A nudge to the ribs put paid to that.
“I’m sure it was nothing personal,” he offered.
“My brains,” said Kurt, self-congratulation dawning on him. “I suppose he couldn’t help it.” He reached up and ran his hand through his hair.
“Sleep.” Brian was almost there himself.
~~~
“Shit. I hope he really was a zombie.” The damage to Brian’s car looked a lot worse in daylight. Kurt plucked at a something caught in the radiator grille. “Otherwise you are just fucked.”
“Give us a hand with this.” Brian pushed a plastic bag full of tin cans into Kurt’s arms.
Loading the car with anything they thought they might need took most of the morning, a morning which held nothing but static on the radio or the TV. Which they eventually decided wouldn’t fit in the car, opting to take Kurt’s laptop instead.
“Where next?” Kurt looked at Brian who, now the packing was done, looked tired as he fiddled with the key in the ignition.
“I don’t know,” Brian stared out of the window.
“Just. Drive.” said Kurt. “We can figure the rest out.”
Several hours of driving later.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“Tin opener.”
~~~
Manchester was disappearing behind them, leaving lurching figures in their wake.
“If it stays like this,” Brian took his hand off the steering wheel to make a gesture that encompassed the last few days. He glanced at Kurt, his arm still in a sling, and then fixed his eyes on the road and shifted in his seat as he tried to take the weight off his back. “I wouldn’t mind shagging you. Sometimes. Or, you know, not.”
Silence from the seat beside him.
“And not just because we might be the last humans alive and eventually we’ll run out of tissue paper.”
“Stop the car.”
“Why?” That didn’t sound good.
“Brian.” Kurt’s voice still low.
Brian automatically signalled as he pulled the car into a nearby lay-by, leaving the engine running.
Kurt looked at Brian. He used his good hand to pull Brian into a kiss that was more a mash of lips interrupted by a gear-stick.
“Okay.”
Author: lakester
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Kinda apocalyptic themes, I guess?
Summary: The world might end, but at least that means no going to work at Summerdown in the morning. Upsides to the apocalypse.
Prompt: Teachers, Kurt&Brian (or Kurt/Brian): zombie apocalypse - they want our brains
“We’re late.” The corridors this close to the staff room are empty. Clare instituted a fifty yard restraining order on pupils getting anywhere near it after someone took a lucky shot with an elastic band through the open doors.
“We’re not late,” argued Kurt.
“How can you think that?” Brian did his best not to loom, a habit picked up from being several inches - “Only three.” “Come on, even you cannot possibly be that delusional can you?” “Oh he can. And not only about his height.” - taller than his friend.
“I set your alarm clock an hour earlier.” Kurt smugly grinned up at Brian. “And your watch. And the singing daffodil radio.”
“What was the point of that?” Brian shouldered his way into the -for obvious reasons- empty room, door swinging back behind him.
“So you’d wake up earlier,” Kurt turned two cups resting in the sink the right way up and switched the kettle on. “You should have seen your face.”
“But you woke up as well,” Thinking his way through the sentence Brian picked up a couple of teabags from the tin Penny kept on top of her locker and threw them across the room. He dropped down on a soft chair, shifting as one of the legs perched through the dying padding.
“You’re right,” A cup of tea hovered in front of Brian’s eyes, and he took it. Kurt slumped down next to him. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Brian looked at him.
“What?”
~~~
“Oh that’s so cute,” Penny tilted her head and her ponytail swung away from her, showing off her neck.
“I don’t know that I’d call it cute exactly,” said Matt as he looked over her shoulder. “More like slightly disturbing.”
“And me without my camera,” agreed Lindsey. She flicked a conker at Kurt. It overshot - sailing over his head. Reaching into her pocket she found another one.
Matt leaned in and smiled. “Let me.” With trailing fingers he plucked the horse chestnut from her hand.
Across the room their target - the sleeping figures of Brian and Kurt - were still slumped against each other, Kurt snoring against Brian’s shoulder. There may have been drooling, frankly there were lengths Matt wasn’t prepared to go in order to humiliate a colleague. Well, that wasn’t exactly true - he hadn’t found any yet; but Matt imagined this might be one. The tossed conker arced away falling to strike Brian on the side of his face.
“Huh?” Brian startled up.
“What?” Kurt tipped down, caught his watch in the zip of Brian’s fleece and they struggled briefly. Disentanglement was eventually achieved, but not before Matt managed to retrieve the impromptu projectile.
“I believe these are yours.”
“Not exactly.” Lindsey pulled out a rolled up magazine, two cans of lager, two-thirds of a packet of cigarettes. “Confiscated from my class this morning.”
“Well,” said Matt, twisting the chestnuts between his fingers, “It’s our responsibility as teachers to destroy contraband materials.”
“Of course it is,” Lindsey managed to keep a straight face.
“In fact we really ought to do that now,” Matt offered her his arm with an exaggerated grin.
Lindsey nodded as she and Matt headed for the door, “If they’re too fucking stupid to hide it properly...” The door closed, cutting her off.
“I suppose I’ll just stand here,” said Penny, loudly, folding her arms in front of her.
“You could try teaching your class, Miss Neville.” Clare’s voice cut a trail of iced glass as she passed through. “You too, Mr McKenna, Mr Steadman. I’m not sure what it is you’re doing.”
“We’re…” “You see,”
“And I don’t care. You’re here to teach, not to enjoy yourselves.” Clare dropped a pile of leaflets on a table and swept out.
~~~
Brian was standing in front of a chalk drawing that was meant to be a representation of volcanic activity. Normally someone would mouth off about his drawing skills, but today the class had kept their heads down, stayed quiet, except for a low mutter he couldn’t quite hear.
“Can anyone tell me the three main reasons for earthquakes?” He glanced down at a textbook, just to check the answers.
The classroom door burst open, propelled by several stones of English teacher. “I need to talk to you, Brian.”
“Okay,” Brian looked at Simon, who kept picking at his shirt cuffs and looking round the room.
“Not here,” Simon hissed, jerking his head at the corridor.
“Fine.” Brian shrugged. He looked at the class. “Hang on a minute.”
A minute later Simon was hustling Brian down a corridor, words spilling out of his mouth. “I know, it might seem a little… odd, but you have to get out. Now. I always thought the Maths department was in league with the devil, although it was less thought they were summoning the undead and more that Sanders broke into my locker one time, but you’ve got to believe me.”
“Zombies.” Brian hadn’t exactly accepted the story yet. “You mean, brains and voodoo and…”
“I’m not sure of their religious affiliation,” interrupted Simon, exasperated. “I didn’t stop to ask.” He sighed. “Look. It’s not as if you usually need an excuse to leave early, even if I’m wrong. Which I’m not.”
Simon looked up at the clock hanging over the gym doors. “I’ve got to run.” Clapping Brian on the arm, with a “Good luck,” he turned round a corner and out of sight.
~~~
It was only five -ten minutes until the end of the lesson Brian had walked out of, so he found himself heading over to the computer lab.
Kurt was kneeling in the corridor outside his classroom. The door was shut, the noise beyond it ample indication of its occupancy. There was something on the floor by the door.
“There you are,” Kurt looked up hopefully. “Have you got a hammer?”
“Why would I have a hammer?”
“You might.” There was a reason he would too, but just now Kurt couldn’t think of one. Instead, he pointed at the wedge by the door. “Shove that in for me, mate.”
Brian kicked the piece of wood, wedging it under the door, and Kurt nodded. “And now, pub.”
~~~
“So did Simon tell you about the zombies, too?” Brian asked a few minutes later.
“Zombies?” Kurt shook his head. “Nah.”
“So that,” and Brian jerked a thumb behind them.
“I couldn’t stand it any more.” Kurt led the way out to the car park. “They kept asking questions. Honestly, is it my job to know when their exams are?”
“I guess not,” Brian shoved his hands in his pockets, rummaging for the car keys.
Bob stalked by, “I hope the rotting flesh falls off her, the cow. Up all night with the…”
Kurt and Brian watched him go past.
“Has his wife left him again?”
“Maybe,” said Kurt. “I’m wouldn’t be surprised, he certainly smells like it.”
Brian flicked on the car radio as Kurt fastened his seatbelt. Static, static, the Archers, static, Radio 4. He switched it off, and pulled out of the school gates. The donkey tied to the gate turned to gaze mournfully at the passing car. The left side of the blanket was embroiders with black letters ‘is nigh’.
“What did you say about zombies?”
~~~
Eight pints later everything looked better. Not the landlady, but then that much alcohol would be enough to blind a man. Eight pints just made cars disappear.
“Where did we leave the car?” Kurt looked around the almost empty pub car park.
The car stubbornly refused to show itself. So did Brian. The flare of a match led to the familiar smell of smoke and Kurt followed.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Matt’s voice was low, his face lit by the cigarette and shadowed by the nearby streetlamp.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare,” asked Kurt. “Only I’m all out.”
“That depends,” Kurt heard Matt’s smile.
“On what?”
“On whether you have something I want.” Matt seemed taller, and closer. “You’re not using them are you?” He leant in closer. Kurt could see stone-dead eyes, feel the lack of warmth of Matt’s breath, but the thing that leaped out was that Matt was missing a third of his head, as he whispered. “Your brains.”
A screech of brakes. Bright lights. A northern voice shouting, “Get in,” and a squelch as bumper impacted dead meat.
“Hurry up!” Wheels spun as Brian put the car in reverse, scraped along a nearby wall and accelerated into the distance.
Matt began to lever himself up, tugging at his legs. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Look on the bright side,” said Lindsey as she walked towards him, mallet in hand. “Now they’ll bend both ways.”
~~~
Brian reached for his hockey stick as his bedroom door opened.
“Oh it’s you,” and he shoved the stick back over his shoulder. Brian rolled over as Kurt, pushed the door to and shoved Margery back in front of the door. Kurt pulled the covers up over himself and looked at the ceiling.
“He wanted my brains,” Kurt’s words hung in the air.
Brian lay silently, trying to go back to sleep. A nudge to the ribs put paid to that.
“I’m sure it was nothing personal,” he offered.
“My brains,” said Kurt, self-congratulation dawning on him. “I suppose he couldn’t help it.” He reached up and ran his hand through his hair.
“Sleep.” Brian was almost there himself.
~~~
“Shit. I hope he really was a zombie.” The damage to Brian’s car looked a lot worse in daylight. Kurt plucked at a something caught in the radiator grille. “Otherwise you are just fucked.”
“Give us a hand with this.” Brian pushed a plastic bag full of tin cans into Kurt’s arms.
Loading the car with anything they thought they might need took most of the morning, a morning which held nothing but static on the radio or the TV. Which they eventually decided wouldn’t fit in the car, opting to take Kurt’s laptop instead.
“Where next?” Kurt looked at Brian who, now the packing was done, looked tired as he fiddled with the key in the ignition.
“I don’t know,” Brian stared out of the window.
“Just. Drive.” said Kurt. “We can figure the rest out.”
Several hours of driving later.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“Tin opener.”
~~~
Manchester was disappearing behind them, leaving lurching figures in their wake.
“If it stays like this,” Brian took his hand off the steering wheel to make a gesture that encompassed the last few days. He glanced at Kurt, his arm still in a sling, and then fixed his eyes on the road and shifted in his seat as he tried to take the weight off his back. “I wouldn’t mind shagging you. Sometimes. Or, you know, not.”
Silence from the seat beside him.
“And not just because we might be the last humans alive and eventually we’ll run out of tissue paper.”
“Stop the car.”
“Why?” That didn’t sound good.
“Brian.” Kurt’s voice still low.
Brian automatically signalled as he pulled the car into a nearby lay-by, leaving the engine running.
Kurt looked at Brian. He used his good hand to pull Brian into a kiss that was more a mash of lips interrupted by a gear-stick.
“Okay.”