WiP | I don't care if you're contagious|KyuTeuk|4815 words

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Jungsu steeled himself and held his his breath as he held the makeshift garden shovel at the ready. He crept forward along the dark alleyway after a suspicious noise, the dank scent of decay marking the ghoul's trail. The scent intensified. A pure stink that heaved his entire body into spasms and made his eyes water; nothing but stomach acid searing his throat. He stopped to drag the cloth around his neck over his mouth and nose and get back his control. Three more steps down the alley brought it even stronger. In the hot airless weather the stink seemed to hang in stagnant pockets.

It was an ugly and hot summer month when the dead came back to life, the July swelter that would soon give way to the August monsoons.

A rattle to his left made him turn gracelessly, panting into a panic. Jungsu looked around him and glasses back up his nose. Precious, distracted seconds but he was blind without them. Then another to his right, a scuttle of cans and Jungsu's eyes went wide as the ghoul slammed into him with a force that tossed him to the ground, the wet mouth split open wide with globs of congealing blood and sharp broken nails reached out for him and with fear running through his veins he wasn't being smart, or careful.

A harsh cry was thrown to echo in the dirty remnants of a city left to the ghouls as he raised his shovel and stabbed it forward.

One dull crack and half of the zombie’s skull fell to the ground, spilling the rot inside, and spun on the wet pavement. With a breathless heave, Jungsu pushed the slumped body away with a smack of his shovel and scrambled back towards the wall.

It had been close. Too close for his liking, too close to those inside the shelter that he tried to protect. Everything, too close and he understood what it meant. He pulled up his sleeves, checked pale arms for bites and scratches but found nothing but dirt stained skin. His heart was in his mouth, beating irregularly against his tongue as he gulped for air and burst into tears before he could stop himself.

“Hyung..?” The sudden voice made him jump, Kyuhyun standing a foot away, another face peering out from behind him. It took two seconds for him to recognise the face as Sungmin, finally giving him cause to relax. He swiped his arm across his face, the rough fabric of his shirt irritating his eyes.

“Okay?”

Kyuhyun fixed Jungsu with a look, wrapping hands around his wrist and yanking him to his feet. Another hard tug dragged Jungsu into Kyuhyun's arms for careful inspection then just to be held.

“Did it get you?”

“No.”

Jungsu wrenched himself from the embrace and stepped back, flashing as much of a smile as he could manage. He bent down to collect the dropped basket, jamming cans and packages back into place and hauling it up with a groan that belied his young age. Kyuhyun could only roll his eyes, picking up the shovel that had been Jungsu's weapon and lead back inside.

A maze of corridors led them to meet in one little underground room, emergency lighting trailing on the floor to guide their way. Jungsu flipped a switch outside the door and the halls were plunged into darkness. He pushed Kyuhyun and Sungmin in front of him and turned to guard their backs as Kyuhyun pushed the heavy steel door open.

Hush came over the room the moment Jungsu stepped in and locked the door behind him. He dropped the basket on the floor just seconds before the explosion of arms around him. Most of them were only one or two, maybe three years younger than himself, much too old for this kind of behaviour, but Jungsu sank into their embrace and held on tight before he could help himself. They were the only family he had.

Jungsu smiled at his small menagerie before he pushed his way easily into the blanketed room. Hundreds of soft, downy quilts and pillows lined the floor to make the hard and cold concrete bearable. It was lit by a strand of light bulbs hanging along one wall that cast shadows every which way, but it was enough. The single pale blue bulb cast shadows on every surface, the cold light haunting.

Disease had wiped them out first, a rolling wave of unexplainable deaths. Before they could treat it, it spread uncontrolled, and mutated within the carriers, no one had an immunity against it. First it killed. Those that died first had the good fortune of remaining dead. It was what came afterwards. The rage, their constant thirst. The disease in the early stages incubated over an average of three days before any physical sign became apparent. First a fever, then hallucinations and thirst. It made bones brittle, their internal organs swell, sending adrenal glands to hyper drive. By that stage it wasn't what someone could call a true death as they started to rot from the inside out. Few were 'alive' to study the effects that came afterwards, but as they'd fled from the city Jungsu noticed that they became slower as time went on, as decomposition wasted skin and muscle, as a true death came and the virus still waged on.

They were the last things Jungsu remembered reading before everything turned into this hell. Maybe, he thinks, if he'd been allowed to, he could have cured this, maybe he could have done something more than survive. He was full of these silly, stupid dreams.

Jungsu folded the newspaper, a month old maybe and the last edition, and set it aside to replacing his hands into Kyuhyun's hair, the boys head resting in his lap.

“We have to move on from here,” he whispered, voice barely a breath as his fingers threaded into the long wavy strands that were beginning to mat together and he distractedly thought about cutting it all off. He didn't want to move. This little hole and the people in it had become his home, another home. “One came. It was right outside the door. There will be more, and they'll come soon,”

Kyuhyun sighed, nodded and rubbed his face against Jungsu's thigh, lips half pressed against the fabric.

“I know. The raiders haven't gotten this far yet, but they're coming right behind them. Sungmin saw from the lookout. We found a van, some gas, do you even remember how to drive? Eh, maybe I should drive..”

That earned him a laugh, a gentle tap to his cheek before fingers drifted across the sallow skin, seeking comfort in the action.

“We'll survive the car ride if you're worried. You just tell me where we have to go. Aren't you the one who played those kinds of games? Tactics, mission organisation. Navigation. I have no idea where we'll go.”

Kyuhyun laughed this time, a slow twitching of his lips as he pressed kisses against Jungsu's thigh.

“Go to sleep, Kyuhyun,” Jungsu murmured as he laid down and stretched out into his little corner of their blanket paradise.

For a long time he'd longed to be this warm, to be comfortable. For a long time he thought that the cold nights on the streets would be all he knew, forever homeless. In the beginning he'd been a loner, yearning for a chance to go back to what he'd known. The ridiculous school terms of his University, his circle of friends, the study, even the parts he hated and the people he hated too. But there was no going back. Warmth in between came in the form of different beds in shady nooks but he wasn't going to complain. It didn't always hurt.

His first little group, a pack of girls with small faces and small bodies who all had similar stories, locked out of home, violence and abuse. The darker side of existence. He wanted to protect them in a way that other people in their lives hadn't been able to, driven by a fierceness at twenty he'd never felt before. He'd stolen for them, protected them from the people who thought they could steal more important things from them than material belongings, just because they were on the streets. And now he wondered where they were, the pretty weeds in the pavement. Months ago he'd have sworn he saw one of them, hurrying down the street in high heels and a flouncing dress..

Perhaps he'd been dreaming.

Kyuhyun slid into place alongside him, with his head tucked into Jungsu's side, sighing against his ribs and an arm swung across his hips. This was the only show of weakness Kyuhyun ever made. Hiding in his side, curling up against him like a puppy. For a long time, as long as they'd known each other, this was how they slept. Comforted by the presence of someone else and the sound regular breathing. Jungsu replaced his hand into Kyuhyun's hair.

“I'll cut your hair tomorrow.”

“Whatever you want, hyung.”


Dawn never reached the insides of their basement haven. Night and day often blurred until someone went outside. If there was no cause to leave, sometimes they remained indoors for days. It was difficult in this little group of seven including Jungsu and Kyuhyun, to keep them entertained, to stop the despair from creeping back in.

Jungsu was the last to wake, and maybe today was a day he wished he didn't have to wake at all, but hands pawed at him and tugged him up and pressed a plate of food into his hands, a mug of something weak and warm and forced him to eat. Then they talked to him, so that their leader wouldn't wallow.

“Pack your bags, pack everything else, blankets, food, make it neat, don't bring anything we don't need,” he told them slowly, as if he was still making the decision. He had a bad feeling, probably for no reason, but he would rather be safe than sorry. “No one goes out, but get everything ready,”

Five heads nodded and spread out to the corners, talking amongst themselves in nothing but a whisper. Where were they going?

Jungsu cut Kyuhyun's hair, short and messy; running his fingers through it to keep his hands occupied as they poured over road maps and picked apart routes so that at the end they'd have something to tell their little group of misfits. Something for them to argue against and discuss. Something to keep their hopes up.

“We can stay here for now,” Jungsu said as they all gathered about after some hours, “But they're coming... and we can't fight them off. The sooner we go, the better chance we have.”


Faces had passed through their camp in numbers never greater than three, survivors they'd met on the streets after scavenging. People from further out, who had been driven into and past the industrial suburbs. They'd brought news with them from the big city sometimes, about gangs and hordes of scavengers hauling serious weaponry, almost as dangerous as the zombies themselves, defeated only by the sheer number of ghouls.

The last of these blow ins left with them in the early morning of the previous day. The night of warmth, safety and real food as far as it went in exchange for the news, medical supplies, a rare box of chocolates, alcohol. The desperation of the man had been palpable and Jungsu couldn't tell why.

Out in the clear light of day -too far away from Kyuhyun, but he’d insisted and Jungsu had a hard time saying no to someone who needed him- the man had shown Jungsu the bites that lined his shoulder. He begged, pleaded with him. Showed him the gun with one last bullet and called himself a coward for not being able to do it himself. For not wanting to go alone.

Kill me, he'd whispered. He couldn't have been much older than Jungsu himself.

The echoed gunshot brought nobody running.


Another day came and went, important things were stored, ready to be moved. Everything else was left behind. They left some cans for whoever might find the hideout next. Blankets. Bottled water.

Kyuhyun drove the van into the back alley, as far as it would come and everyone rushed to pack and secure it. Five minutes and everything was done. Jungsu stood on watch at the other end of the alley, the world sharp behind his cracked glasses.

A feral snarl broke the eerie silence, a chorus rising underneath. They had come quicker than he'd anticipated

“Get everyone in the van, go!” he yelled and signalled with his arms. His feet pounded cracked asphalt to catch up with the van, doors slammed violently on four scared faces as each scrambled into place. Kyuhyun shoved Sungmin into the drivers seat. The alley behind Jungsu filled with swollen running bodies all with gaping mouths, snarls and groans and the stench rolled ahead of the scrambling crowd. The van roared into life, stalling only once before beginning to pull out of the alley with squealing tyres. Kyuhyun opened the passenger door, and reached out his arm. Jungsu stretched his own out, throwing his weapon back into the crowd behind him. He stumbled to grip onto Kyuhyun's arm and with the same hard yank, Kyuhyun dragged, practically threw Jungsu inside the van and slammed the door.

Ghouls battered the side of the van, Sungmin panicked and swerved on the road as the runners reached out with scraping hands, before finally set a true course to the heavy breathing chorus of Jungsu's swearing.

He looked to the faces in the back of the van that stared at him, fear evident in each gaze.

Jungsu could only smile and hope it was enough before the dizzying fade to black.


A faint voice beckoned him, maybe a year and a half ago – it was just a bare month before they were given that hand up - singing old ballads from the dark corner of a dead end at three Am. Jungsu stayed close to the wall as he sought the owner of the sounds. Lovely words for the cold night.

His desire to help had gotten him into trouble before: scrapes, fights. He'd been taken advantage of, all because he just wanted to help. It wasn't naivety, he liked to think. Selfishness, in a way. Wanting someone to depend on him.

He assumed it was his own footsteps that made the beautiful voice falter and halt, stopped between words and a breath. A stop out of fear.

“It's okay,” Jungsu offered into the darkness, “I just heard your voice and I had to stop and find it. It's beautiful. You were singing my favourite song. Can I come closer? I'm Jungsu. I have a spare blanket and some food if you need it,” (add some action)

Silence was all that was offered back for a few minutes, as if the voice was judging whether to trust the stranger in a dead end street.

“Do you have a band aid?”

Jungsu dropped his bag to the ground and knelt down to rummage inside, gloved fingers clumsy, but soon enough he grasped the rolled up kit at the very bottom and carefully tugged it out.

“Got one. I'm coming closer okay. I've got a torch.”

It was a bit more than a band aid that was needed; split lip and cuts, bruises that lit up violet against the pale skin. He'd turned his head away from the light as Jungsu swung it around, letting the little beam settle at the boy's feet. Little more than a boy. He let Jungsu clean him up, hesitant to speak, Jungsu didn't force it from him and talked about himself instead. Tidbits as he tried to coax something similar from him.

“I like singing too, but I'm not as good as you are. I used to dance to trot songs in the labs and tell jokes though, before. I still do it out here sometimes. The jokes mainly. You get looked at, dancing in the middle of the street if you're on your own,” Jungsu had laughed, pressing a bottle of water between palms, an energy bar, and a blanket in his lap once he'd cleaned the boy up. Jungsu started repacking his bag, kit pushed back to the very bottom. He startled when a hand grabbed his sleeve, halting his packing.

“I'm Kyuhyun,”

Jungsu smiled and placed a hand over Kyuhyun's, a reassuring squeeze left around his wrist. He'd just been about to speak before Kyuhyun spoke first.

“Can you.. Will you stay with me?”

Nothing more was offered, but the look on Kyuhyun's face in the torch light was one he couldn't ignore.

“I'll stay. You're not alone any more, alright. You can come with me in the morning. I'll help you,”

At four Am, Kyuhyun pressed his dirty face into the side of Jungsu's white shirt, bony ribs against his cheek and the rise and fall that signified breathing. (may have used this image before?? Link it in)


When Kyuhyun sang, things stopped. Or started again. The trees in a breeze and birds and crickets and breathing. Jungsu came to in the back of the van, his head resting in Kyuhyun's lap. The sense of motion suggested they were still on the road. Faces peered over him, dirty and worried faces. They were stretched out on the back seat. Everyone else had squeezed together on the rest of the seats, in laps, on the floor.

“How long?”

“Not long, fearless leader,” Kyuhyun teased, brushing his fingers through Jungsu's hair. The act of being comforted was not something he was used to but he didn't resist, not for a few moments anyway as a small smile crept across his mouth.

“Alright?”

There was a chorus of relief filled with a babble of words from all of them. Jungsu sat himself up before promptly flopping boneless back against Kyuhyun-his head drooping sideways to rest against a sharp shoulder- who seemed to relish being relied on.

“You're right to drive for a while, Sungmin?” There seemed to be a rush as to who could claim Jungsu's other side and a small pile cuddled up in line. These scared young things.

“I'm fine, hyung. Half way and I'll let you have the wheel,”

Jungsu nodded and smiled as he felt a hand slide into place on top of his. Fingers becoming entangled and a voice too weaved into the darkness and this time rather than unconsciousness, he fell instead into sleep.

(Need to clarify that they met before the outbreak)

It had felt a lot like a new start. A small apartment on the outskirts of the suburbs. A job. Enough to just get by, which is all anyone needed. And someone there to share it with. Kyuhyun moved in with him while he began his study under scholarship. It all moved so fast.

After meeting, neither of them had felt the need to separate from the other, nor the want. At the beginning they didn't quite get along. Jungsu fussed like a mother and Kyuhyun bit back with venom and things weren't really easy. Jungsu held him at arms length at the same time that he tried to get him back on his feet; he was terrified of getting close, because he always got attached and they never stuck around. He was irrevocably affected by the appearances and disappearances from his life.

Jungsu never heard Kyuhyun's story. The teenager never offered it forward when the topic came up, even though Jungsu shared his own, edited for the masses. Threads like that made helping the hopeless easier and that's what Jungsu did. The tale of a youth and the disappointed parents. The secret life that had overlapped one too many times with the real world until he found himself out on the doorstep. Disowned at nineteen and shunned by the people he'd known, even those in his second life shied away from him like he was spoilt. No longer a son. No longer a younger brother. An orphan then, to living parents; with a back pack stuffed full of clothes and little else. Far too proud to seek help.


Kyuhyun shook Jungsu awake. Gentle at first, then a harder shake that elicited a number of cranky grumbles and groans and an attempt to cuddle back down. Exhaustion had crept up on him.

“Jungsu. Wake up, hyung. It's almost morning and your turn to drive,”

“Morning?”

“You've been out for almost eighteen hours. We stopped for the night hours ago, the others are sleeping. Don't worry, I've been on guard the whole time. We needed to stop running for a little while.” There was silence as Jungsu forced himself to keep his eyes open, he blinked away the daze and pressed his face closer into Kyuhyun's neck, slowly and surely, but waking up was hell. In the waking fog he could barely remember his name, let alone anything else important.

“It's nice getting to look after you for once, hyung.” Kyuhyun muttered, head twisting to press into Jungsu's hair, “You can let me do it more often now.”

Jungsu gave the hand still linked to his a squeeze in answer, knowing he should give more but this was the only time words ever failed him, became stoppered on his tongue. Slowly he disentangled himself and crept through the gap to the drivers seat.

“Sleep some, Kyuhyun,” Jungsu said back to him over his shoulder, a small, real smile crowding his lips.


The empty roads made him nervous. Stretches of asphalt both forward and back with no souls but their own on them. He spotted the occasional car. Doors open or blood splattered, torn body parts left to decompose under the hot sun. South Korea had been one of the last countries to succumb. It had happened before they could even realise it. Jungsu forced himself to keep attention on the road. Thinking would do him no good, but the silence underneath snores was too deep. He hoped they were doing the right thing. Was there even somewhere they could really go? Jungsu gripped the steering wheel in an attempt to keep his thoughts level. He wanted to be right with so many lives depending on him.

Hours passed and the drive was like the roads. Empty. The others stirred, just as his watch ticked to 10 am. Hunger rumbled in his stomach, thirst caused his tongue stick to his mouth an the occasional stink of rot that brushed past his nose made him want to vomit. He was struck by a jittery claustrophobia for being cooped up for so long, and the air inside the van was becoming stale. One by one as they woke, a sleepy chorus of good mornings, Jungsu asked if they wanted to stop for the rest of the day. The unanimous answer he received was yes. They were all as itchy as he was, he was sure. For twenty more minutes he drove, until a highway pit stop lurched into sight. The others pointed, urged, suddenly excited for the chance to get out of the metal tomb. The site was two small buildings, joined by a covered passage. From the outside it looked empty. There was one other car pulled up into the far parking space.

As Jungsu pulled the van to a stop, he help up his finger for silence and motioned for one of the stockpiled weapons and his backpack. Kyuhyun lurched out of his seat, pushing the metal bat into Jungsu's hand, “Defence.” and claimed his own machete from the pile to drop the blunt edge of the blade against his shoulder. “I'm offence.” Jungsu stared him down. A wrinkle creased between his eyebrows and his lips thinned into a straight line as a seed of discomfort swelled in his stomach. Kyuhyun merely smirked, jumping out of the van and slamming the door.

“We'll look. Ten minutes. Stay in the van and lock the doors. Start the car the minute you see or hear anything. You don't wait,” Jungsu ordered, and smiled tightly back at his little family. One nod and he pushed open the driver side door, slipping down onto the gravelled ground with a thud and an aching groan. Kyuhyun came to stand beside him, hip to hip. Sungmin took the drivers seat behind him and closed the door. The faces of the others peered through the windows, watching their movement with bated breath.

They progressed forward.

All doors to the main building were open but there was no blood. The place had been ransacked and emptied long ago, there were no supplies left on the shelves. Broken glass lined the floor and caught the sunlight that flooded the building sending shimmering reflections up along the walls. They made their way through the first building, checking every single corner, looking for something of interest. They shared a nod when they found nothing in that first building and walked along the passage towards the second.

Jungsu could feel that seed of anxiety in his stomach curl to a heavy rock, something felt wrong. He'd just been about to tell Kyuhyun to stop. He grabbed at his arm but only caught the fabric of his shirt.

“Wait.” This was a bad idea. Kyuhyun had already tried the door before using his foot to kick it open.

A black cloud rose out of the open door. He could only hear the droning buzz of some kind of insect before their beating wings brought the scent out in thick waves. Death and decay.

The disturbance gave way to groans.


Jungsu had smashed his bat against the skull of one that lumbered forward as Kyuhyun shoved the machete through a soft eye socket and yanked hard to the left of a second; black glutinous blood spilling between them. It's the third, snarling from the darkness. Faster than the others with red blood staining it's mouth as it charged at them, nails and teeth, lunging for Jungsu in the seconds between.

Kyuhyun sidestepped in front of him, just as Jungsu raised his bat above his head, ready to strike.

Then it's over.

Both Kyuhyun and the ghoul crumpled, ghoul on top with a snapping, snarling jaw and force too great for close quaters. The sound of something torn, Jungsu threw his bat to the side with force, a clatter of thunder to catch Kyuhyun before he hit the floor or severed something with the drooping machete; arms sliding around his chest and dragging him back a few feet from the pool of blackened blood.

“Offence, reme-?” Kyuhyun breathed, his words sharply interrupted.

“Kyu?” Jungsu could barely keep his voice steady as the boy shook in his arms, a violent shuddering fit lasting bare seconds that terrified Jungsu more than the ghouls, because he'd seen it happen before.

“Idiot. Shit. Breathe. Kyuhyun, let me see,”

Mangled skin and jagged scratches, small patches of flesh pulled up from muscle on his shoulder. The gore made it look worse, but even the smallest cut would breed the disease.

“Don't leave me,” Kyuhyun clamped his hand back on top of reddened skin. Not just blood, but infection.

“I'll be back. Kyuhyun. I have to send the others away. I'll be back. I'm not leaving you. I promise.” Jungsu whispered to the still quivering body after the worst had passed. He, as carefully as he could, pulled Kyuhyun towards the wall and let him rest there. He leant back, brushing the hair from Kyuhyun's forehead before getting up. “I promise,” and ran.

“Sungmin!” Jungsu pounded on the drivers side window, startling Sungmin out of his single minded reverie with a jolt, “Sungmin, open the door,” Sungmin pushed the door open, his eyes widening at the black blood splattered head to toe, he arched back out of habit. Jungsu didn't notice. “Give me our bags and some of the med kit. Then you go. It's not safe here.” He only had to say it once before he was given what he wanted. He looked Sungmin dead in the eyes, reached to touch his hand and give his fingers a squeeze.

“Kyuhyun was bitten.” There was no promise of catching up later or meeting again, as much as he wanted to offer that simple lie, his silver tongue wouldn't let the words free.

The words sank in quickly, Sungmin's eyes brimmed with tears before being blinked away. He understood. “Be safe.”