Here, take it, just take it. I don't want to try and edit this anymore, I don't want to look at it anymore, I DON'T WANT TO CRY ANYMORE. I've already been meh about my writing lately anyway, and the more I look at it the more I'll think it's stupid and ARRGH!
So basically, and this sounds really silly, this ficlet was inspired by a Ke$ha song of all things. KE$HA. (It's a guilty pleasure of mine, STFU!) When I downloaded her new half-album type thing from iTunes, I heard one of her songs and instantly it reminded me of Nick and Ellis. ^_^;; But you know, if Nick was a douchebag and broke Ellis' heart. Which I could see him doing because he's kind of a cock like that.
Here's the song:
So yeah, if you listen to the song you'll see where I took some parts of the song and incorporated it into this.Title:
PG for just brief mentions of mansex?Summary:
Ellis is still heartbroken after Nick cruelly and suddenly leaves him. Word Count:
None really, not even any swearing. Just mentions of two men doing it, but no detail.A/N:
THIS IS WHY I DON'T WRITE ANGST. I literally just vomited this out as I was listening to the song on loop and... Well, this is what happened. I didn't really flesh anything out because I wasn't intending this to be a full-on fic anyway, and it might seem a bit overdramatic but... I hope that someone likes it. ^_^;;
Ellis couldn’t sleep. Not uncommon for someone who had survived the zombie apocalypse, someone who had lived through the horrors of mass death, lived with the fear that each day was his last, the sight of people dying in front of his eyes seared in his memory forever. However, it wasn’t those disturbing memories of the past that were causing him to be unable to slumber peacefully. He flipped over to his side, fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when something caught his eye and he frowned as he stared at it momentarily, the cause of his insomnia contained within.
It was a picture on his nightstand, taken when he was in one of the encampments the government had set up during the outbreak, after all the testing and prodding and poking had determined that he and his group of comrades were not infected, were not carriers, and were allowed to live after the ordeal they had all suffered through. Any sort of luxury was rare to come by in those camps, but one of the residents happened to get their hands on a camera, and being that Ellis had done some work for him, he asked if there was anything the young mechanic wanted a picture of. It was a kind gesture, and Ellis jumped on the chance to get a photo taken of him and his friends, so that even when they would eventually separate, he would always have a reminder, a memento of the people who helped him live, helped him survive.
He gazed at the picture in the frame, all four of them wearing the standard issue royal blue scrubs that were assigned to them upon arrival at the camp, but he could only focus on the man with the dark hair and piercing ice blue eyes standing next to him, his arm upon his shoulder as he gave a half-smile to the camera. Nick. Ellis recalled how much he begged Nick to smile at the camera, but he resisted, complaining about how cheesy the whole idea was in the first place. Eventually, Ellis was able to persuade the former conman, saying how much it would mean to him, gazing at him with pleading eyes, and he eventually gave in, although not all the way, as he would see later when he received the glossy photo.
Ellis sighed as he turned the picture over on the small table, the sight of the other man still a bit too painful to behold at that moment. He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, his eyebrows furrowed, recalling the time that he and Nick had spent together previously, how close the two of them had gotten over the course of their acquaintance. It had started sometime midway through the apocalypse, as they fought for their lives and Ellis was somehow able to break through Nick’s icy exterior with his cheerfulness and zeal for life. At first the gambler tried to feign disinterest in the other man, preferring to keep to himself in the saferooms, but eventually he gave in, starting to socialize with not just Ellis, but the others as well. Somehow, despite all the craziness of the whole situation, they became something that resembled a family. A dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless, watching each other’s backs, healing each other when needed, and just being there to support each other during those dark, unsure days.
Eventually, things between Ellis and Nick became more intimate, more akin to a relationship rather than just a familial or brotherly bond. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when it happened, but their friendship segued into intimacy quite naturally. Whenever they got to a saferoom that would allow them some privacy, they often made love through the night, savoring each other’s company until the sunrise, afterwards slumbering in each other’s arms, not knowing if the next day would be the last that they would see each other, if that would be the day they would succumb to the infected. Their relationship continued well into their rescue, as they shared a tent together, cohabiting with each other happily despite the tight restrictions of the camp, but it didn’t stop them from promising the world to each other as they spent many happy nights together. Ellis especially recalled the fierce, passionate kiss that Nick gave him when they were finally rescued, before their time in the camps, when the helicopter lifted them away from that cursed bridge, and the sight of infected disappeared from their view.
But that all changed when the infection started to subside, and people were slowly being allowed to leave the camps.
He remembered the day when Nick told him he was going to leave very clearly. It had been a pleasant, temperate day, and the sun had just about set when he arrived at their tent from work. Nick was sitting at the small table that was in the middle of the room, with an unsettling expression on his face. Once they started talking, he told Ellis that he wanted to go out West, where the infection hadn’t hit as hard. He explained that he knew that he probably didn’t have a home up North anymore, so he figured that he would go out to Las Vegas or at least Reno, where he could get back to his old life as best as he possibly could. Ellis of course told him that he would follow him wherever he wanted to go, as he could probably get work anywhere, but Nick looked away when he insisted that he wanted to go out there alone and under no circumstances would Ellis come after him. He said that having him around would ruin his “image.”
Ellis was devastated, and the words stabbed into the center of his soul. He couldn’t understand why, after all they had been through, after all of the promises they made, after the numerous nights of making passionate love to each other, why the other man wanted to leave him behind. There was yelling, there were tears and there was anger. But Nick was firm in his decision, and he informed the mechanic that he was leaving the next day, on the first bus out in the morning. They didn’t make love that night, but Ellis clung to Nick tightly as they lay in bed, sniffling into his chest as the older man stroked his hair.
The next day when Ellis awoke, Nick was gone, as well as all of his belongings, almost as if he was never there, as if he never existed, and no means of contact left behind. He couldn’t help but wail out his former lover’s name, his body wracked with sobs as he clung to the bedsheets, the smell of the gambler still lingering on them as he dampened them with his tears, his heart feeling like it was going to rip in half.
Ellis couldn’t help but start to tear up at the painful memory, even though he’d always been told his whole life that real men don’t cry, but then again he’d also been told that real men didn’t take it up the ass either and he’d done that several times, willingly, as well. He punched his pillow a few times, imagining that it was the gambler’s smirking face, until he felt somewhat better, despite the tears now escaping his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. He then buried his face in the downy fabric, and wondered why the dull ache in his chest was far more agonizing than the physical pain he had previously endured, when he was fighting for survival, before he drifted off into what would be an emotional, fitful sleep. He would face the next day with a smile upon his face, not revealing the debilitating pain from the wound deep inside him that he wasn’t sure would ever heal.