Never Forget You / Never Let You Go
Title: Never Forget You / Never Let You Go
Pairing: Channing Tatum/Jamie Bell
Rating: R (violence/sex)
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Zombie/apocalypse AU. Not beta'd, etc.
---
Channing never thought about the future until he met Jamie. On the surface, they had only two things in common: riding motorcycles and killing zombies. But the longer he spent around -- with -- Jamie, the more obvious it became how many similarities they truly had. It took Channing two weeks to realize that they'd both had to kill the person they loved.
He didn't know if it was a lover, as it had been for him, or if it was someone else, a parent or a best friend. And no matter how badly he wanted to know, he wouldn't ask. In the four years since the outbreak, since he'd had to kill the woman he was going to marry, Channing had learned a lot about secrets. Both keeping and revealing them. He'd only told one other person, Jamie being second, and that first person had tried to kill him.
He didn't really know why he trusted Jamie. It could be that he's a sucker for his accent, or the way Jamie looks, at times, both older and younger than his 25 years. Whatever it was, Channing found that he not only enjoyed being around Jamie, but that he wanted him around. Which is why when Jamie announced he was leaving, Channing nearly lost it.
They had a fight. A real one, with fists and black eyes. Only, after all that, Jamie had still up and left. As he watched Jamie leave, Channing realized he'd gone a long time without caring about anyone, even himself. And to watch Jamie leave was killing him, maybe not literally, but Channing imagined that wouldn't take long.
Part of him wondered why he cared, because obviously Jamie didn't. But another part -- a bigger part -- thought that Jamie did care, but he just didn't know how to express it. Sometimes when Channing looked at Jamie, he saw himself. The way he acted when anyone tried to get close. Especially after what happened with Jeremy.
It was easier to let Jeremy go because he'd wanted the guns more than Channing did, and if he was honest with himself, probably more than Jeremey had wanted Channing. That friendship -- relationship, Channing corrected -- because they were fucking after all, had only been about Jeremy using him. Of course, Channing didn't realize it until Jeremy had the gun to his head. He could've killed Channing, but he didn't. And sometimes, before he found Jamie, he wished that Jeremy had pulled that trigger. Just killed him and been done with it.
Maybe he should've told Jamie about Jeremy, but he didn't. He couldn't even explain why he was still living in the same half-destroyed bunker a year and a half later. Not that Jamie had asked. But still, Channing thought, he probably should've said something. But those were his secrets and maybe he could talk about killing Jenna, who wasn't Jenna anymore, but Jeremy was the secret that hurt far too much.
So instead of being honest, Channing chooses instead to remain always the coward. Unable to leave in case Jeremy comes back, even though Canning knows he never will. And that was how he let the best thing that had happened to him in four years just walk out the door.
Upon further reflection, Channing realized three things. The first, that Jamie had asked why Channing couldn't leave and of course, Channing couldn't answer. The second, that Jamie had all but asked him to leave, with him. And the third, that Channing was the biggest idiot in the entire known universe, or at least what was left of it.
---
It wasn't that Jamie didn't know how to show he cared, it was that Channing was a fucking idiot. He knew, of course, that Channing cared, that it was killing Channing to see him leave. But he'd given Channing every chance to go with him. They'd even fought about it and yet Channing refused to go. Jamie thought it was pretty fucking selfish of Channing, to just stay.
But what did he know, right? Except that it hurt him, too. He hadn't wanted to leave, but Jamie was smart enough to see the writing on the wall. The food wouldn't last the year out and Jamie sure as hell wasn't going to die in that stupid bunker because Channing was too stubborn to leave.
Which is why he left, even though he hadn't wanted to. Because what other choice did he have? Staying meant dying a slow, painful death and what did it matter if you cared about the person you were with. Starving together was still starving, even if you weren't suffering alone. But leaving, that meant action. It meant fighting to live. It meant not giving up and Jamie isn't one to give up easily.
Jamie could've left two months earlier, should've, really. But he didn't want to leave Channing. He liked Channing, his sharp edges and wicked sense of humor. He liked the way Channing cared, so much. His emotions just washed over him and Jamie was insanely jealous, or he would've been, if not for the fact that all (or almost all) of Channing's emotions had been directed at him.
They hadn't fucked, which kind of confused Jamie, because he knew Channing wanted to. Fuck, he'd wanted to. But they hadn't, like sex was some sacred line they weren't going to cross. Which was pretty fucking stupid, now that Jamie thought about it, because they lived in this post-apocalyptic world where sex was a luxury most couldn't afford. And they could've, Jamie thought bitterly. They should've, because he'd like to be able to study the scars on Channing's chest. The bullet hole in his shoulder. The long scar along his leg.
He kind of hoped that maybe Channing would've done the same. They both had scars and stories behind the scars. Secrets waiting to be told. And Jamie was aching to tell them. To tell them to Channing, who seemed to understand most everything, especially Jamie. And that was something new, something different. Jamie's history is full of misunderstandings. It's full of hurt and a long, winding trail of death and destruction. Starting with his first and only serious boyfriend and his parents. All at once.
Jamie didn't know that the gas stove would explode like that, but it doesn't matter because they weren't the people he loved anymore. He almost wasn't himself, either. He'd come so close to death. So fucking close that sometimes he wished he'd been turned so he wouldn't have to deal with all these aches deep in his heart, the nightmares that never seem to cease.
Then he met Channing and everything slotted together again. He found a reason to stay, a reason to not just leave after five minutes. He'd stayed with Channing for a long time, longer than anywhere else. He hadn't wanted to leave and yet he had, anyway. What choice did he have, after all?
---
Channing makes his decision at one in the morning. He hadn't seen a single zombie for two weeks since Jamie left. Two weeks. He kept hoping Jamie would come back, but nothing. Every day he'd sit on the front steps with his shotgun in his hands, waiting. Two weeks before he realized Jamie wasn't coming back. Two weeks when all he did was feel sorry for himself.
And then he changed his mind. He looked at his mess of a bunker. At the dwindling food supplies. At the running water turning red with rust and nearly undrinkable, even after boiling. He looked around and thought, why the fuck am I still here? There wasn't an answer that didn't start with Jeremy and that's when Channing woke up.
It was like a mist lifted and it was time to go. About five minutes later, Channing found the map. It was tacked to wall of the bed where Jamie used to sleep, in the room Channing hadn't been in since he left. It was a map of where Jamie was planning to go. Channing thought, I could do this. Then, I can do this, I have to do this.
Once he made the decision, everything else fell into place. The only problem was catching up to Jamie. He knew the ultimate goal. Supposedly there was a town, like in all those fucking ridiculous zombie movies that didn't actually prepare you for real zombies, that wasn't infected. A place where those who were immune (were there any?) or clean (like him, like Jamie) could go and be safe.
Channing didn't know what safe was like, anymore. Just like he couldn't remember what his life had been like before. Sometimes it was there, that taste of normal, but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. But he'd finally reached a point where he's accepted that things will never be the same again and it's okay. He can live like this, if he works at it. And when Jamie was around, it was bearable.
But now that he's gone, Channing gets stuck dwelling in the past. Until those two weeks pass and Jamie's not coming back and Channing cannot stand it any longer. He packs up everything that matters, leaving most of the food that won't go bad, in case someone else comes along. He marks the building, saying that it's safe despite outward appearances.
It takes him twenty four hours to get everything together. It's raining when he finally leaves, washing the dust and grime from the streets, but not the blood that seems to have permanently stained the pavement under his bike. In his nightmares, the streets run with blood. In real life, it's just water.
---
Jamie doesn't have enough fingers to count the people he's left. Not killed, but left. People who weren't ready to move on, people who couldn't move on. People who wanted to kill him, rather than let him leave. There are too many, but the only person Jamie cares to remember is Channing.
When he stops, chaining his bike to a tree, then climbing high up into the branches to sleep, all he can think about is Channing. His smile, his laugh. Everything. Jamie knows he's being stupid. Real life doesn't work like the movies. There's no love story waiting for him. Channing had his chance and he blew it. And yet Jamie finds that he doesn't want to let go of Channing.
He's been gone for two weeks. Two excruciatingly long weeks. He barely sleeps, he doesn't eat, and he's done a lot of killing. But what he really wants to do is go back. Which is really fucking stupid because he has a rule and that rule is you don't go back. Okay, that's one of a lot of rules, but it's an important one. Really important because sometimes people don't want you back. Or sometimes they're not there anymore and it's just zombies.
But there's something about Channing that's drawing Jamie back. He finally gives in. He packs whatever he's got left, fills the gas tank of his bike from an abandoned car and then he's off. Back where he came from, breaking all his rules. He wasn't supposed to get attached, he wasn't supposed to fall in love. Because love doesn't exist anymore. But he understands now that he was wrong.
It wasn't that not having sex was the problem. It was that they actually, physically, weren't having sex. It was a conscious thing. It was, we can't do this because what if we fall in love. Which somehow changed into actual love and if Jamie hadn't been too selfish to see it (and who was he to call Channing selfish), maybe he wouldn't've stayed. Maybe Channing would've left with him.
Which is why Jamie's going back. Because he realizes that he fucked up. That he could've, should've, tried harder. That he wasn't fair to Channing. It takes him four days to get back to Channing's bunker. Four days because he doesn't stop, he doesn't sleep. He's been gone two weeks and it takes him only four days. And when he finally reaches the bunker, his heart drops into his stomach.
The bunker is deserted.
His first thought is, something's happened to Channing. He runs in, guns in both hands, but it's empty. Of everything. He realizes that Channing's left. He finally left. Jamie goes to the room he slept it and that's when he sees that the map, the copy of his, is gone. Fuck, he thinks. Fuck fuck and he's shouting it, loud and his heart hurts and he wants to cry.
Perhaps he should stay, sleep, but he can't. Channing is out there, looking for him. And he's here, looking for Channing. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He would ride back and Channing would be there, waiting for him. It would be perfect and then Jamie remembers, this world is not perfect. There is no perfect left. And so he gets on his bike and starts to retrace his steps. Channing is waiting for him, somewhere.
---
He's lost. Completely and utterly. He curses the satellites that probably still work, but are no use because even if he had a GPS (which he doesn't), there's no power to charge it. He followed the map, but it turns out he's pretty fucking hopeless at it. Especially when all he's doing is looking around for zombies and for Jamie. Mostly for Jamie.
He's getting close to the desert, which is wrong because he should be heading toward the water. At least that's the route that's marked on the map. But Channing is completely not near any river at all. Which is freaking him out a bit. He used to not care, but he'd never spent time looking for someone. He found Jeremy by accident and Jamie had come to him, looking for a place to crash.
But now it's his turn to look for someone and it's wearing down on him. He finally understands how some of the people who've passed through his life have felt. They were looking for people too, people who were probably dead. Not that Jamie is, he's too smart for that. But Channing understands the panic, the breakdowns. He'd like to have one.
He keeps second guessing himself. He's been riding for two days straight and he's starting to see things. He just needs a place to stop, to sleep. He doesn't want to get sloppy or killed, not before he finds Jamie. He doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't find Jamie. The last time he had this feeling, the world nearly ended. He'd heard the news and he'd driven halfway across the country with Jenna, only to find his parents dead. And then he had to kill her.
The way he felt with Jeremy was different. It was as if the consequences of all his past actions had finally caught up with him. Jeremy was going to do what should've been done all those years earlier. Jeremy was going to punish Channing for what he did. Except that Jeremy hadn't. He'd looked Channing in the eyes and he couldn't do.
And now Channing's chasing after some kid because of what? Because of looks they exchanged? Because of the fire Channing felt, that he hadn't felt since, well, since Jeremy, but not even then, not really. Since Jenna. Jeremy made him want to fight, Jamie made Channing want to live.
He sees an abandoned house. This will do, he thinks. He kills two zombies, kids, but that's it. He sees the bodies of the parents in the bathroom. He dumps the bodies in a pit in the front yard, giving them all extra shots to the head, even though he's pretty sure they won't come back again. He buries the bodies and then hauls his bike inside. He locks the door and collapses onto the bed in what must've been the guest bedroom on the first floor. He's asleep before his head hits the pillow, his shotgun under his arm.
---
Jamie does not get lost. But he soon realizes that Channing must've. He doesn't stop, just keeps riding. And riding. It starts to pour and he curses because any tracks that Channing made will wash away with the rain. He rides through three small towns and past the house before nearly crashing his bike. It's early morning, far too early for anyone to be up, even in these end of the world times. He sees the freshly dug graves and he knows.
Looking back, he's not sure how he ended up at that house. He doesn't even know what possessed him to take this particular road, when there were four others that Channing could've taken. But he doesn't care. It's long since stopped raining, but he can still make out tire tracks in the dirt. He recognizes them. He memorized what the treads on Channing's bike looked like, if only to give him something to do in that stupid bunker.
He hauls his bike up onto the porch, parking it. Then he tries the door, locked. Of course it is, Channing isn't some new kid on the block. He knows what he's doing. Jamie wants to break the windows, but he doesn't. Instead, he knocks on the door, loudly. No answer. He starts to panic, maybe something's happened. Maybe Channing's hurt.
He's calling out Channing's name. It could be someone else. The tires on Channing's bike aren't unique. But Jamie knows it's not. He pounds harder on the door, wondering why now, of all times, he decides to panic. But then he hears the locks opening on the door and then there's Channing. It's really him. He looks tired and miserable and for a moment they both freeze.
Then Channing does something Jamie will always be grateful for. He grabs the front of Jamie's shirt, fingers curled, and pulls at him. Tugging him so hard that Jamie stumbles into the house, into Channing's arms. He kisses him hard, fierce and hot. Jamie claws at him, fingers in Channing's shirt and he's sobbing.
Channing's arms around him, Jamie's face against Channing's chest. They don't say anything. The only sound their harsh breathing. And then it starts to rain again. Channing pushes Jamie furhter into the house before waling out onto the porch and wheeling Jamie's bike inside. They still don't talk. Channing parks Jamie's bike next to his own as Jamie locks the door up again.
They can't stay here, they won't stay here, at least not longer than a day, maybe two. When they've finished, they both turn, facing each other. Jamie wants to say something, I missed you. I love you. I thought I'd lost you. But he doesn't say anything. He's gasping for air, all of a sudden, everything falling out from under him.
Channing seems to understand, because he's there. Suddenly right there. He's pushing Jamie into the bedroom, onto the bed. Jamie's gasping, shaking and clutching at Channing. They fall onto the bed and Jamie can feel Channing shaking too. Then Channing's mouth on his and they're kissing, twisting around on the bed.
Jamie doesn't remmeber how they got undressed, but he doesn't really care. All that matters is that he's flat on his back, with Channing over him. With Channing's cock in his ass, Channing's mouth on his. They're fucking, proper fucking and Jamie can't get enough. Even in the depths of panic, all he cares about is Channing. Right here, inside him, around him.
He kisses Channing hard, wraps his legs around him, pulling him close. Then closer. Impossibly closer. Channing's mouth on his, then his jaw, along his neck. Neither of them last long. Jamie first, with Channing's hand around his cock and then Channing, buried deep inside him. Belatedly, Jamie thinks they should've used protection, but then he thinks, that's stupid. The zombies'll kill them both quicker than any STD.
There's a thunderstorm outside by the time they finish. Channing slides off of Jamie, onto his back and Jamie curls up next to him, head on Channing's chest. He's never been much for cuddling, but he idea of not being next to Channing freaks him out. Channing shifts, pulling Jamie closer, arm wrapped tight around him. Jamie doesn't want to let go, want to let this go. Not now, not tomorrow and not, much to his dismay and fear, ever.
---
They don't talk the next morning, either. Channing's not sure why, but he feels like if he says something, anything, Jamie'll leave. Their silence is fragile, delicate. They find canned fruit and vegetables in a pantry and eat, in silence. they clean up, attempting to leave the house as though no one had been there. As though they hadn't just fucked on someone else's bed, in someone else's house. They don't speak as they gather their gear together, as they wheel their bikes outside, then down onto the road.
Channing props his bike up and then crosses to Jamie. He grabs him by the front of his shirt, pressing his mouth roughly against Jamie's. They kiss, hard and fast, before pulling apart. And still, they don't talk. Channing decides that's okay, he's not ready to. But what he does is get on his bike and wait for Jamie. The sun's just above the edge of the horizon when they start riding. And then, their bikes are too loud to talk, which suits Channing just fine.
A glance at his compass, strapped to his wrist where a watch used to be, Channing notices they're traveling North. He keeps his eyes on Jamie's bike, though periodically turning his head to keep watch of zombies. They don't see any, not even when they stop for lunch. Canned beans, some barely fresh vegetables Channing had purchased from a traveling farmer, finally pushed out by zombies. Then it's back on the bike, riding into twilight. And that's when the zombies converge.
Jamie sees them first, he's shouting at Channing, screaming his name over and over. Channing stops, nearly hitting Jamie, turns and then he's firing. He has pistols in his holster, shotgun over his back and more guns strapped to the sides of his bike. He doesn't stop shoot, even as they're riding through the mass of writhing bodies. It makes him think of a rave he went to, with Jenna, right before the outbreak. Bodies all around him, squashed together and sweaty. It was amazing, Channing remembers.
But this, this isn't amazing. He shots a zombie in the head, then another and then Jamie's cleared a path, somehow and they're riding as fast as they can. Three hours later, they stop, no zombies in sight. Perhaps that group could chase them, but zombie packs are that fast, at least not usually. They sit on their bikes for almost 30 minutes, but the only sound is running water and birds. Channing can't remember the last time he heard birds.
They wheel their bikes into the shade and then Jamie walks to the edge of the water. He strips and then instructs Channing to do the same. It takes Channing a moment, but he realizes that they need to check each other, for bites. His throat catches as he runs his hands along Jamie's body, but there's nothing, not even a scratch. Jamies does the same to him, then holds his gaze. Clean, Jamie's eyes say.
Channing takes a step, then another, and their kissing. Pressing up against each other, sliding their bodies together. It's Jamie who pulls back first, but only to tug Channing into the water. They could die, because of this. They're not paying attention, they're not vigilant, which is always import. But Channing doesn't give a flying fuck because he's in cool, fresh water and Jamie's mouth is on his. He slides his hand down, around Jamie's cock, stroking him roughly and Jamie returns the favor. Again, it doesn't last long, but again it doesn't matter.
They stay in the water too long, darkness is upon them. They linger by their bikes for too long. They need to sleep, find someplace safe, but they don't. Instead they sit, leaning against the tree, pretending everything is normal. They don't talk, but Jamie settles in Channing's arms. He doesn't know he's fallen asleep until he feels Jamie shaking him awake. He blinks groggily, trying to wake up.
The first thing he does is reach for his gun, but Jamie's hand is there first. He shakes his head and then kisses Channing. There's nothing but the sounds of running water, birds and their kissing. Eventually they pull back and, without speaking, get on their bikes again. Channing thinks, as they ride, that they may never need to speak again and he'd be fine with that, as long as he got to keep Jamie.
---
Jamie can hear Channing screaming his name, louder than anything else. Louder than the thunder overhead, louder than the zombies that never seem to stop coming. Jamie thinks, if it was any other time, he'd like to hear Chaninng screaming his name. But right now he just wants to run away and hide. Every day is like a nightmare, every night is restless sleep until Channing touches him, holds him.
They can't go on like this, Jamie knows, but he's beginning to lose hope that they'll ever find some place safe. Jamie keeps pushing, though, because he has to, because he suddenly wants a future, he wants to live. He wants to be able to tell Channing how he really feels. Not just with looks or touches, but with actual words. He wants them not to be fragile and so easily broken. Which is why, he thinks, neither of them talk.
Of course, they don't need to. Whatever they have, it works without speaking, just as well as if they were talking. Jamie leads, Channing follows. He no longer has to look back, to make sure Channing's there. It's been almost three months and Channing has made no move to leave. Jamie thinks he'll never be able to explain how grateful he is. Except for one thing, now that he has Channing, he has something to lose.
Which is why he's fighting so hard he's afraid he's going to die. Channing's beyond the cars, where the bikes are parked, but the zombies are on Jamie's tale. They were so close to getting more food, in fact they'd gone back for another load, when the zombies had attacked. Neither of them had noticed them, it was if the zombies were purposefully quiet. Jamie tries not to think about that as he's battling his way through.
He watches, filled with love and horror, as Channing scrambles over the cars to him. To help him. It works, somehow. Channing barges in, shooting, slamming zombies out of the way, until he gets to Jamie. Then they're running, fast and hard. They get to the bikes, get on, and don't look back. They put miles, almost a hundred, between them and the zombies, before they stop. They're getting closer to the Canadian border now. Three months has turned into six months. It's close to winter.
"I can't lose you." Channing's voice is rough, raw.
Jamie turns after climbing off his bike. "I …" He says, but can't finish.
"I know." Channing says. "Fuck, I know." His voice breaks with emotion.
Jamie crosses to him and Channing's arms around him, holding onto him, rough and tight. They are both crying, it no longer matters. It's the end of the world and they only have each other. Jamie's gasping for breath, like the moment he found Channing alive.
"It'll never end." He says, voice choked full of tears.
Channing dips his head, licking the tears and then kissing Jamie hard. "I know."
"What if we …" Jamie can't finish.
Channing squeezes Jamie tightly. "Where you go, I go. If you … So do I."
The sentence is incomplete, but Jamie knows. If Channing dies, there's no reason to go on. Which stands to reason that if he, Jamie, dies, Channing will too. He thinks he should argue, but he doesn't. Because they both know Channings right.
"I love you." He says, the words spilling out of him.
Channing kisses him again, it's a different sort of kiss, one that reminds Jamie of things that should have been, that still could be. He returns the kiss with such fierceness that he feels like he's going to break them both.
Channing's mouth moves against Jamie's as he speaks. "I love you."
Then they pull apart. Jamie gets back on his bike, waiting for Channing to do the same. And then they're riding. North. Until there's nowhere else left to go. At least, Jamie thinks, glancing over at Channing, at least they're together.
Pairing: Channing Tatum/Jamie Bell
Rating: R (violence/sex)
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Zombie/apocalypse AU. Not beta'd, etc.
---
Channing never thought about the future until he met Jamie. On the surface, they had only two things in common: riding motorcycles and killing zombies. But the longer he spent around -- with -- Jamie, the more obvious it became how many similarities they truly had. It took Channing two weeks to realize that they'd both had to kill the person they loved.
He didn't know if it was a lover, as it had been for him, or if it was someone else, a parent or a best friend. And no matter how badly he wanted to know, he wouldn't ask. In the four years since the outbreak, since he'd had to kill the woman he was going to marry, Channing had learned a lot about secrets. Both keeping and revealing them. He'd only told one other person, Jamie being second, and that first person had tried to kill him.
He didn't really know why he trusted Jamie. It could be that he's a sucker for his accent, or the way Jamie looks, at times, both older and younger than his 25 years. Whatever it was, Channing found that he not only enjoyed being around Jamie, but that he wanted him around. Which is why when Jamie announced he was leaving, Channing nearly lost it.
They had a fight. A real one, with fists and black eyes. Only, after all that, Jamie had still up and left. As he watched Jamie leave, Channing realized he'd gone a long time without caring about anyone, even himself. And to watch Jamie leave was killing him, maybe not literally, but Channing imagined that wouldn't take long.
Part of him wondered why he cared, because obviously Jamie didn't. But another part -- a bigger part -- thought that Jamie did care, but he just didn't know how to express it. Sometimes when Channing looked at Jamie, he saw himself. The way he acted when anyone tried to get close. Especially after what happened with Jeremy.
It was easier to let Jeremy go because he'd wanted the guns more than Channing did, and if he was honest with himself, probably more than Jeremey had wanted Channing. That friendship -- relationship, Channing corrected -- because they were fucking after all, had only been about Jeremy using him. Of course, Channing didn't realize it until Jeremy had the gun to his head. He could've killed Channing, but he didn't. And sometimes, before he found Jamie, he wished that Jeremy had pulled that trigger. Just killed him and been done with it.
Maybe he should've told Jamie about Jeremy, but he didn't. He couldn't even explain why he was still living in the same half-destroyed bunker a year and a half later. Not that Jamie had asked. But still, Channing thought, he probably should've said something. But those were his secrets and maybe he could talk about killing Jenna, who wasn't Jenna anymore, but Jeremy was the secret that hurt far too much.
So instead of being honest, Channing chooses instead to remain always the coward. Unable to leave in case Jeremy comes back, even though Canning knows he never will. And that was how he let the best thing that had happened to him in four years just walk out the door.
Upon further reflection, Channing realized three things. The first, that Jamie had asked why Channing couldn't leave and of course, Channing couldn't answer. The second, that Jamie had all but asked him to leave, with him. And the third, that Channing was the biggest idiot in the entire known universe, or at least what was left of it.
---
It wasn't that Jamie didn't know how to show he cared, it was that Channing was a fucking idiot. He knew, of course, that Channing cared, that it was killing Channing to see him leave. But he'd given Channing every chance to go with him. They'd even fought about it and yet Channing refused to go. Jamie thought it was pretty fucking selfish of Channing, to just stay.
But what did he know, right? Except that it hurt him, too. He hadn't wanted to leave, but Jamie was smart enough to see the writing on the wall. The food wouldn't last the year out and Jamie sure as hell wasn't going to die in that stupid bunker because Channing was too stubborn to leave.
Which is why he left, even though he hadn't wanted to. Because what other choice did he have? Staying meant dying a slow, painful death and what did it matter if you cared about the person you were with. Starving together was still starving, even if you weren't suffering alone. But leaving, that meant action. It meant fighting to live. It meant not giving up and Jamie isn't one to give up easily.
Jamie could've left two months earlier, should've, really. But he didn't want to leave Channing. He liked Channing, his sharp edges and wicked sense of humor. He liked the way Channing cared, so much. His emotions just washed over him and Jamie was insanely jealous, or he would've been, if not for the fact that all (or almost all) of Channing's emotions had been directed at him.
They hadn't fucked, which kind of confused Jamie, because he knew Channing wanted to. Fuck, he'd wanted to. But they hadn't, like sex was some sacred line they weren't going to cross. Which was pretty fucking stupid, now that Jamie thought about it, because they lived in this post-apocalyptic world where sex was a luxury most couldn't afford. And they could've, Jamie thought bitterly. They should've, because he'd like to be able to study the scars on Channing's chest. The bullet hole in his shoulder. The long scar along his leg.
He kind of hoped that maybe Channing would've done the same. They both had scars and stories behind the scars. Secrets waiting to be told. And Jamie was aching to tell them. To tell them to Channing, who seemed to understand most everything, especially Jamie. And that was something new, something different. Jamie's history is full of misunderstandings. It's full of hurt and a long, winding trail of death and destruction. Starting with his first and only serious boyfriend and his parents. All at once.
Jamie didn't know that the gas stove would explode like that, but it doesn't matter because they weren't the people he loved anymore. He almost wasn't himself, either. He'd come so close to death. So fucking close that sometimes he wished he'd been turned so he wouldn't have to deal with all these aches deep in his heart, the nightmares that never seem to cease.
Then he met Channing and everything slotted together again. He found a reason to stay, a reason to not just leave after five minutes. He'd stayed with Channing for a long time, longer than anywhere else. He hadn't wanted to leave and yet he had, anyway. What choice did he have, after all?
---
Channing makes his decision at one in the morning. He hadn't seen a single zombie for two weeks since Jamie left. Two weeks. He kept hoping Jamie would come back, but nothing. Every day he'd sit on the front steps with his shotgun in his hands, waiting. Two weeks before he realized Jamie wasn't coming back. Two weeks when all he did was feel sorry for himself.
And then he changed his mind. He looked at his mess of a bunker. At the dwindling food supplies. At the running water turning red with rust and nearly undrinkable, even after boiling. He looked around and thought, why the fuck am I still here? There wasn't an answer that didn't start with Jeremy and that's when Channing woke up.
It was like a mist lifted and it was time to go. About five minutes later, Channing found the map. It was tacked to wall of the bed where Jamie used to sleep, in the room Channing hadn't been in since he left. It was a map of where Jamie was planning to go. Channing thought, I could do this. Then, I can do this, I have to do this.
Once he made the decision, everything else fell into place. The only problem was catching up to Jamie. He knew the ultimate goal. Supposedly there was a town, like in all those fucking ridiculous zombie movies that didn't actually prepare you for real zombies, that wasn't infected. A place where those who were immune (were there any?) or clean (like him, like Jamie) could go and be safe.
Channing didn't know what safe was like, anymore. Just like he couldn't remember what his life had been like before. Sometimes it was there, that taste of normal, but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared. But he'd finally reached a point where he's accepted that things will never be the same again and it's okay. He can live like this, if he works at it. And when Jamie was around, it was bearable.
But now that he's gone, Channing gets stuck dwelling in the past. Until those two weeks pass and Jamie's not coming back and Channing cannot stand it any longer. He packs up everything that matters, leaving most of the food that won't go bad, in case someone else comes along. He marks the building, saying that it's safe despite outward appearances.
It takes him twenty four hours to get everything together. It's raining when he finally leaves, washing the dust and grime from the streets, but not the blood that seems to have permanently stained the pavement under his bike. In his nightmares, the streets run with blood. In real life, it's just water.
---
Jamie doesn't have enough fingers to count the people he's left. Not killed, but left. People who weren't ready to move on, people who couldn't move on. People who wanted to kill him, rather than let him leave. There are too many, but the only person Jamie cares to remember is Channing.
When he stops, chaining his bike to a tree, then climbing high up into the branches to sleep, all he can think about is Channing. His smile, his laugh. Everything. Jamie knows he's being stupid. Real life doesn't work like the movies. There's no love story waiting for him. Channing had his chance and he blew it. And yet Jamie finds that he doesn't want to let go of Channing.
He's been gone for two weeks. Two excruciatingly long weeks. He barely sleeps, he doesn't eat, and he's done a lot of killing. But what he really wants to do is go back. Which is really fucking stupid because he has a rule and that rule is you don't go back. Okay, that's one of a lot of rules, but it's an important one. Really important because sometimes people don't want you back. Or sometimes they're not there anymore and it's just zombies.
But there's something about Channing that's drawing Jamie back. He finally gives in. He packs whatever he's got left, fills the gas tank of his bike from an abandoned car and then he's off. Back where he came from, breaking all his rules. He wasn't supposed to get attached, he wasn't supposed to fall in love. Because love doesn't exist anymore. But he understands now that he was wrong.
It wasn't that not having sex was the problem. It was that they actually, physically, weren't having sex. It was a conscious thing. It was, we can't do this because what if we fall in love. Which somehow changed into actual love and if Jamie hadn't been too selfish to see it (and who was he to call Channing selfish), maybe he wouldn't've stayed. Maybe Channing would've left with him.
Which is why Jamie's going back. Because he realizes that he fucked up. That he could've, should've, tried harder. That he wasn't fair to Channing. It takes him four days to get back to Channing's bunker. Four days because he doesn't stop, he doesn't sleep. He's been gone two weeks and it takes him only four days. And when he finally reaches the bunker, his heart drops into his stomach.
The bunker is deserted.
His first thought is, something's happened to Channing. He runs in, guns in both hands, but it's empty. Of everything. He realizes that Channing's left. He finally left. Jamie goes to the room he slept it and that's when he sees that the map, the copy of his, is gone. Fuck, he thinks. Fuck fuck and he's shouting it, loud and his heart hurts and he wants to cry.
Perhaps he should stay, sleep, but he can't. Channing is out there, looking for him. And he's here, looking for Channing. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He would ride back and Channing would be there, waiting for him. It would be perfect and then Jamie remembers, this world is not perfect. There is no perfect left. And so he gets on his bike and starts to retrace his steps. Channing is waiting for him, somewhere.
---
He's lost. Completely and utterly. He curses the satellites that probably still work, but are no use because even if he had a GPS (which he doesn't), there's no power to charge it. He followed the map, but it turns out he's pretty fucking hopeless at it. Especially when all he's doing is looking around for zombies and for Jamie. Mostly for Jamie.
He's getting close to the desert, which is wrong because he should be heading toward the water. At least that's the route that's marked on the map. But Channing is completely not near any river at all. Which is freaking him out a bit. He used to not care, but he'd never spent time looking for someone. He found Jeremy by accident and Jamie had come to him, looking for a place to crash.
But now it's his turn to look for someone and it's wearing down on him. He finally understands how some of the people who've passed through his life have felt. They were looking for people too, people who were probably dead. Not that Jamie is, he's too smart for that. But Channing understands the panic, the breakdowns. He'd like to have one.
He keeps second guessing himself. He's been riding for two days straight and he's starting to see things. He just needs a place to stop, to sleep. He doesn't want to get sloppy or killed, not before he finds Jamie. He doesn't know what he'll do if he doesn't find Jamie. The last time he had this feeling, the world nearly ended. He'd heard the news and he'd driven halfway across the country with Jenna, only to find his parents dead. And then he had to kill her.
The way he felt with Jeremy was different. It was as if the consequences of all his past actions had finally caught up with him. Jeremy was going to do what should've been done all those years earlier. Jeremy was going to punish Channing for what he did. Except that Jeremy hadn't. He'd looked Channing in the eyes and he couldn't do.
And now Channing's chasing after some kid because of what? Because of looks they exchanged? Because of the fire Channing felt, that he hadn't felt since, well, since Jeremy, but not even then, not really. Since Jenna. Jeremy made him want to fight, Jamie made Channing want to live.
He sees an abandoned house. This will do, he thinks. He kills two zombies, kids, but that's it. He sees the bodies of the parents in the bathroom. He dumps the bodies in a pit in the front yard, giving them all extra shots to the head, even though he's pretty sure they won't come back again. He buries the bodies and then hauls his bike inside. He locks the door and collapses onto the bed in what must've been the guest bedroom on the first floor. He's asleep before his head hits the pillow, his shotgun under his arm.
---
Jamie does not get lost. But he soon realizes that Channing must've. He doesn't stop, just keeps riding. And riding. It starts to pour and he curses because any tracks that Channing made will wash away with the rain. He rides through three small towns and past the house before nearly crashing his bike. It's early morning, far too early for anyone to be up, even in these end of the world times. He sees the freshly dug graves and he knows.
Looking back, he's not sure how he ended up at that house. He doesn't even know what possessed him to take this particular road, when there were four others that Channing could've taken. But he doesn't care. It's long since stopped raining, but he can still make out tire tracks in the dirt. He recognizes them. He memorized what the treads on Channing's bike looked like, if only to give him something to do in that stupid bunker.
He hauls his bike up onto the porch, parking it. Then he tries the door, locked. Of course it is, Channing isn't some new kid on the block. He knows what he's doing. Jamie wants to break the windows, but he doesn't. Instead, he knocks on the door, loudly. No answer. He starts to panic, maybe something's happened. Maybe Channing's hurt.
He's calling out Channing's name. It could be someone else. The tires on Channing's bike aren't unique. But Jamie knows it's not. He pounds harder on the door, wondering why now, of all times, he decides to panic. But then he hears the locks opening on the door and then there's Channing. It's really him. He looks tired and miserable and for a moment they both freeze.
Then Channing does something Jamie will always be grateful for. He grabs the front of Jamie's shirt, fingers curled, and pulls at him. Tugging him so hard that Jamie stumbles into the house, into Channing's arms. He kisses him hard, fierce and hot. Jamie claws at him, fingers in Channing's shirt and he's sobbing.
Channing's arms around him, Jamie's face against Channing's chest. They don't say anything. The only sound their harsh breathing. And then it starts to rain again. Channing pushes Jamie furhter into the house before waling out onto the porch and wheeling Jamie's bike inside. They still don't talk. Channing parks Jamie's bike next to his own as Jamie locks the door up again.
They can't stay here, they won't stay here, at least not longer than a day, maybe two. When they've finished, they both turn, facing each other. Jamie wants to say something, I missed you. I love you. I thought I'd lost you. But he doesn't say anything. He's gasping for air, all of a sudden, everything falling out from under him.
Channing seems to understand, because he's there. Suddenly right there. He's pushing Jamie into the bedroom, onto the bed. Jamie's gasping, shaking and clutching at Channing. They fall onto the bed and Jamie can feel Channing shaking too. Then Channing's mouth on his and they're kissing, twisting around on the bed.
Jamie doesn't remmeber how they got undressed, but he doesn't really care. All that matters is that he's flat on his back, with Channing over him. With Channing's cock in his ass, Channing's mouth on his. They're fucking, proper fucking and Jamie can't get enough. Even in the depths of panic, all he cares about is Channing. Right here, inside him, around him.
He kisses Channing hard, wraps his legs around him, pulling him close. Then closer. Impossibly closer. Channing's mouth on his, then his jaw, along his neck. Neither of them last long. Jamie first, with Channing's hand around his cock and then Channing, buried deep inside him. Belatedly, Jamie thinks they should've used protection, but then he thinks, that's stupid. The zombies'll kill them both quicker than any STD.
There's a thunderstorm outside by the time they finish. Channing slides off of Jamie, onto his back and Jamie curls up next to him, head on Channing's chest. He's never been much for cuddling, but he idea of not being next to Channing freaks him out. Channing shifts, pulling Jamie closer, arm wrapped tight around him. Jamie doesn't want to let go, want to let this go. Not now, not tomorrow and not, much to his dismay and fear, ever.
---
They don't talk the next morning, either. Channing's not sure why, but he feels like if he says something, anything, Jamie'll leave. Their silence is fragile, delicate. They find canned fruit and vegetables in a pantry and eat, in silence. they clean up, attempting to leave the house as though no one had been there. As though they hadn't just fucked on someone else's bed, in someone else's house. They don't speak as they gather their gear together, as they wheel their bikes outside, then down onto the road.
Channing props his bike up and then crosses to Jamie. He grabs him by the front of his shirt, pressing his mouth roughly against Jamie's. They kiss, hard and fast, before pulling apart. And still, they don't talk. Channing decides that's okay, he's not ready to. But what he does is get on his bike and wait for Jamie. The sun's just above the edge of the horizon when they start riding. And then, their bikes are too loud to talk, which suits Channing just fine.
A glance at his compass, strapped to his wrist where a watch used to be, Channing notices they're traveling North. He keeps his eyes on Jamie's bike, though periodically turning his head to keep watch of zombies. They don't see any, not even when they stop for lunch. Canned beans, some barely fresh vegetables Channing had purchased from a traveling farmer, finally pushed out by zombies. Then it's back on the bike, riding into twilight. And that's when the zombies converge.
Jamie sees them first, he's shouting at Channing, screaming his name over and over. Channing stops, nearly hitting Jamie, turns and then he's firing. He has pistols in his holster, shotgun over his back and more guns strapped to the sides of his bike. He doesn't stop shoot, even as they're riding through the mass of writhing bodies. It makes him think of a rave he went to, with Jenna, right before the outbreak. Bodies all around him, squashed together and sweaty. It was amazing, Channing remembers.
But this, this isn't amazing. He shots a zombie in the head, then another and then Jamie's cleared a path, somehow and they're riding as fast as they can. Three hours later, they stop, no zombies in sight. Perhaps that group could chase them, but zombie packs are that fast, at least not usually. They sit on their bikes for almost 30 minutes, but the only sound is running water and birds. Channing can't remember the last time he heard birds.
They wheel their bikes into the shade and then Jamie walks to the edge of the water. He strips and then instructs Channing to do the same. It takes Channing a moment, but he realizes that they need to check each other, for bites. His throat catches as he runs his hands along Jamie's body, but there's nothing, not even a scratch. Jamies does the same to him, then holds his gaze. Clean, Jamie's eyes say.
Channing takes a step, then another, and their kissing. Pressing up against each other, sliding their bodies together. It's Jamie who pulls back first, but only to tug Channing into the water. They could die, because of this. They're not paying attention, they're not vigilant, which is always import. But Channing doesn't give a flying fuck because he's in cool, fresh water and Jamie's mouth is on his. He slides his hand down, around Jamie's cock, stroking him roughly and Jamie returns the favor. Again, it doesn't last long, but again it doesn't matter.
They stay in the water too long, darkness is upon them. They linger by their bikes for too long. They need to sleep, find someplace safe, but they don't. Instead they sit, leaning against the tree, pretending everything is normal. They don't talk, but Jamie settles in Channing's arms. He doesn't know he's fallen asleep until he feels Jamie shaking him awake. He blinks groggily, trying to wake up.
The first thing he does is reach for his gun, but Jamie's hand is there first. He shakes his head and then kisses Channing. There's nothing but the sounds of running water, birds and their kissing. Eventually they pull back and, without speaking, get on their bikes again. Channing thinks, as they ride, that they may never need to speak again and he'd be fine with that, as long as he got to keep Jamie.
---
Jamie can hear Channing screaming his name, louder than anything else. Louder than the thunder overhead, louder than the zombies that never seem to stop coming. Jamie thinks, if it was any other time, he'd like to hear Chaninng screaming his name. But right now he just wants to run away and hide. Every day is like a nightmare, every night is restless sleep until Channing touches him, holds him.
They can't go on like this, Jamie knows, but he's beginning to lose hope that they'll ever find some place safe. Jamie keeps pushing, though, because he has to, because he suddenly wants a future, he wants to live. He wants to be able to tell Channing how he really feels. Not just with looks or touches, but with actual words. He wants them not to be fragile and so easily broken. Which is why, he thinks, neither of them talk.
Of course, they don't need to. Whatever they have, it works without speaking, just as well as if they were talking. Jamie leads, Channing follows. He no longer has to look back, to make sure Channing's there. It's been almost three months and Channing has made no move to leave. Jamie thinks he'll never be able to explain how grateful he is. Except for one thing, now that he has Channing, he has something to lose.
Which is why he's fighting so hard he's afraid he's going to die. Channing's beyond the cars, where the bikes are parked, but the zombies are on Jamie's tale. They were so close to getting more food, in fact they'd gone back for another load, when the zombies had attacked. Neither of them had noticed them, it was if the zombies were purposefully quiet. Jamie tries not to think about that as he's battling his way through.
He watches, filled with love and horror, as Channing scrambles over the cars to him. To help him. It works, somehow. Channing barges in, shooting, slamming zombies out of the way, until he gets to Jamie. Then they're running, fast and hard. They get to the bikes, get on, and don't look back. They put miles, almost a hundred, between them and the zombies, before they stop. They're getting closer to the Canadian border now. Three months has turned into six months. It's close to winter.
"I can't lose you." Channing's voice is rough, raw.
Jamie turns after climbing off his bike. "I …" He says, but can't finish.
"I know." Channing says. "Fuck, I know." His voice breaks with emotion.
Jamie crosses to him and Channing's arms around him, holding onto him, rough and tight. They are both crying, it no longer matters. It's the end of the world and they only have each other. Jamie's gasping for breath, like the moment he found Channing alive.
"It'll never end." He says, voice choked full of tears.
Channing dips his head, licking the tears and then kissing Jamie hard. "I know."
"What if we …" Jamie can't finish.
Channing squeezes Jamie tightly. "Where you go, I go. If you … So do I."
The sentence is incomplete, but Jamie knows. If Channing dies, there's no reason to go on. Which stands to reason that if he, Jamie, dies, Channing will too. He thinks he should argue, but he doesn't. Because they both know Channings right.
"I love you." He says, the words spilling out of him.
Channing kisses him again, it's a different sort of kiss, one that reminds Jamie of things that should have been, that still could be. He returns the kiss with such fierceness that he feels like he's going to break them both.
Channing's mouth moves against Jamie's as he speaks. "I love you."
Then they pull apart. Jamie gets back on his bike, waiting for Channing to do the same. And then they're riding. North. Until there's nowhere else left to go. At least, Jamie thinks, glancing over at Channing, at least they're together.