Kiyoshi limps to the nearest standing house, not even trying to kill those sons of bitches, only push them out of the way to buy himself some time and space. Whereas they're not exactly fast, they're quickly closing up on him from behind, with his knee in such a desperate state; he stands no chance in the open.

Sometimes he tends to think bitterly that perhaps, if they had to do the apocalypse thing for real, they could have at least waited a few more weeks, give him enough time to recover from the surgery. But the world came up in flames way too early, leaving him weak, unable to run, and without anyone he could trust at his side. He met some people, of course, but none of them were his friends, and in times like those, it would be more than wise to think twice before letting someone close.

He grasps the doorknob and turns. Nothing happens, and he tries again, panic settling in when he realizes the door is probably locked or barricaded from the inside. A string of profanities leaves his mouth as he hurries to the back, hoping to find another, open entrance. But even that one is closed to him, and Kiyoshi is suddenly out of ideas, a couple of undead is dragging from behind the corner. Just when he prepares to give up, lifting up the axe (because if he is supposed to prematurely leave the world, he will do it on a pile of corpses of his enemies), the door swings open and he is roughly pulled in, stumbling and gracelessly landing on his ass.

He manages to catch his breath that has been somehow knocked out of him before, only to choke slightly when he catches a glimpse of his savior's face. He almost laughs at the irony of the situation, honestly, he would, weren't he still gasping for air, it's almost unbelievably absurd, and sick. And very, very unexpected to be saved by the person responsible for his injury and his inability to run.

Makoto Hanamiya swiftly locks the door and pushes a dresser in front of it, just in case the wood gave in under their scratching, tearing nails. He doesn't look at Kiyoshi at first, and when he finally turns, he still avoids Teppei's look as if it were poison. They stay in silence for a few heavy seconds, before Kiyoshi drags himself up to his feat, unblocking the hallway, and Hanamiya quickly makes his way past him, gaze stubbornly digging into the floor.

„Wait." It takes Kiyoshi a moment to realize it was him who said the word, a little taken aback by himself. Hanamiya stops in his tracks and turns slowly, eyes glittering in the darkness of the hallway. He looks like a predator, tense and ready to attack in any second, and Kiyoshi doesn't fail to notice Hanamiya's fingers slowly wrapping around the gun handle at his hip.

„What is it." He's still not looking Kiyoshi in the eye, and maybe it's just an illusion but the pale digits tremble before securely tightening the hold on the weapon. Kiyoshi realizes, surprised and unable to understand, that Hanamiya is scared of him. Of course, Teppei isn't feeling safe and secure either, but somehow it seems to him that he does have the upper hand in the situation after all, despite being injured and terribly exhausted.

He wonders whether it is that Hanamiya's consciousness finally awakened, forcing the guilt into his mind, or that Hanamiya merely recognizes a danger when he sees one (and of course he knows Kiyoshi may wear the facade of a peaceful, quiet friendly man, but there is a monster dwelling underneath the fake skin).

„It's not like you to help people, at all. So how comes I'm here?" Teppei inquires, adjusting his grip on the axe. His fingers are slippery, covered in dirt, sweat, and blood and gore, and the weapon keeps sliding from his hold. He hopes Hanamiya doesn't notice.

It takes Hanamiya a few seconds to gather himself and speak. „That's none of your business, be glad you're alive." He tries to sound menacing, but somehow, his voice sounds hoarse, strained, as if he hasn't used it for a long time. Kiyoshi can't help it and wonders how many days have passed since Hanamiya talked to anyone, or even saw a living human being.

„I don't particularly intend to thank you, since it's you who got me here," Kiyoshi begins, almost smirking when he sees Hanamiya's eyes dart from the axe in his hands to his knee, „but I suppose there's no reason to stand against each other now, right?" Hanamiya's shoulders sag a little with relief, and Kiyoshi somehow understands. He still doesn't trust the man in front of him, but his fingers hurt from how tightly he's gripping the axe, and he's tired and sore, and if there is an opportunity to rest he will take it.

„Whatever you say." Hanamiya grumbles and finally lets go of the gun. „There's a barrel with rainwater on the terrace up there, if you want to wash. There's a bed upstairs, too, and some spare clothes. Do use them, you smell." He turns on his heel then and disappears into another room, shutting the door behind him. Kiyoshi is left in the hallway, slightly puzzled and still clutching the axe, wondering what other twists of fate await him in the new, rotten world.

The water smells a little, but not as badly as he does, and he gladly washes the grime away, furiously scrubbing at the skin that soon turns angry red with faint traces of his nails. The clothes he finds in the house are mostly intended for someone much smaller, but the looser pieces fit somehow. And although he doesn't mean to (still reluctant to let his guard down even for a minute), he falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow in the (too small) unmade double bed.

When he wakes up, it's dark outside, and he is unable to estimate what time it is. For the first time in ages he feels well rested, despite his body aching slightly and still physically tired. Apparently weeks of running and sleeping in the trees or on cold grounds can't be undone with one day in bed. He yawns, wipes his eyes and looks around, still a little dazed. He freezes when he catches a sight of another figure on the bed, stirring slightly under the covers. His brain immediately wakes up fully, senses on high alert, as if he plunged into ice-cold water. He doesn't move right away, observing and waiting for any sign of hostility. But Hanamiya seems to be asleep, tossing around a little, but completely harmless. Kiyoshi sighs with relief and lets his head drop back to the pillow. The adrenaline rush completely erases the after sleep haze, and he settles on watching Hanamiya, just in case.

Five minutes later, Kiyoshi rolls his eyes and shakes the other awake. Dark eyes shoot open, wide with fear, and Hanamiya immediately scrambles for a gun. Teppei somehow catches him in time and pins him to the bed, one hand resting on the rapidly rising chest, the other keeping Hanamiya's arms above his head.

„Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." Kiyoshi murmurs. Hanamiya's panicked stare doesn't waver, his struggles only grow more frantic. „It's okay you were having a nightmare, I just woke you up." he adds and leans back a little, but doesn't let go. His knee is killing him, swollen and burning with fever, but he still isn't sure whether Hanamiya is back to his senses or not. He can still feel the rapidly beating heart under the thin layer of sweat soaked t-shirt the man is wearing.

„Let me go!" Hanamiya rasps, and his struggles cease a little. He's still scared though, Kiyoshi can see. He probably would be, too, if their roles were reversed. „I'm fine, let go." It's a little calmer and Kyioshi finally loosens his grip enough for Hanamiya to jerk free.

„Better?" Kiyoshi inquires right after he lies back, drawing his knee to a little more comfortable and a lot less painful position. Somehow, Hanamiya notices, eyes still wide with panic, but also surprise and realization.

„Good enough." Hanamiya finally grumbles, hesitantly avoiding Kiyoshi's gaze. His breathing is still a little heavier, but when Kiyoshi attempts to say that aloud, Hanamiya quickly looks away. „You should probably do something with your knee. It looks bad."

„Uh, right. You have any bandages here?" It's a little awkward, and Hanamiya is quick to realize, and probably still a little put off by his dream, he even offers to get it. Teppei, unsure whether he would be able to walk at all in his current state, merely nods and reclaims the blanket that slipped away during the struggle. Hanamiya is back in no time, carrying a bunch of slightly dirty bandages and some sort of ointment which, judging from the bottle design, must be well past it's expiration date. Never mind that, Kiyoshi smirks and swiftly sits up, outstretching his leg into Hanamiya's general direction. It hurts like shit to keep it in the air and straight, but it's worth the look on the other's face.

„Not in a million years." Hanamiya growls and throws the stuff at Kiyoshi, quickly crawling on his side of the bed and stealing the covers for himself. Kiyoshi laughs quietly (to which Hanamiya reacts with drawing the blanket over his head) and then turns his attention to his leg, wincing slightly when his fingers, rough and covered in cold smelly cream, touch the burning skin.

Hanamiya is asleep when Kiyoshi finishes, and Teppei laughs again when he realizes the other looks almost innocent with his hair slightly tousled, face serene and fingers clutching onto the sheets tightly. It makes him regret he doesn't have a permanent marker with him, but the thought is soon forgotten, when Hanamiya turns a bit and the covers slide aside, exposing one creamy thigh.

Kiyoshi shakes his head a little and quickly turns away. After so much time spent alone, the sight of his rival excites him in all the wrong ways, and that's probably the last thing he needs now. Embarassment and possible awkward situations aside, there is still no time for this, they have to fight for their lives and rest when they can, and inappropriate boners don't help either. Somehow, he calms down then, and the soft sounds of Hanamiya's breathing lull him to sleep.

Hanamiya proves to be extremely hard to deal with. Although he can be reasonable and sometimes even pleasant to hang with, he still tends to cling to his old image of a basketball asshole (which annoys Kiyoshi for many apparent reasons). Teppei first brushes it off, then ignores it, and then fights back with annoying flirting and bad pick-up lines that seem to set Hanamiya off every single time it happens.

It's funny, really, how after some time, Hanamiya stops (and when they sleep in the same bed comes a little closer to Kiyoshi each time)

Kiyoshi doesn't miss it. But the silence sometimes sends chills down his spine, and he finds himself speaking to himself ever so often, and on those occasions (that grow more frequent with time), Hanamiya never forgets to make it clear he isn't listening at all.

„You're a tease." Hanamiya tells him one day, when they somehow decide to stay at abandoned hot springs, and Kiyoshi is indecent enough to walk around naked and dripping wet. It takes him a moment to understand, but when he turns to Hanamiya, the other merely lowers his head back on the futon and with a dark „Don't even try" rolls over to face the wall.

Kiyoshi lies down beside him regardless, one wet arm sneaking around Hanamiya's waist, drawing him closer. „You were saying?"

„You're horrible and I hate you." Hanamiya grumbles and definitely does not push himself closer just to feel Kiyoshi's growing erection against his ass. „Stop doing this. It's weird."

Kiyoshi laughs heartily and nuzzles Hanamiya's neck, grazing it with his teeth lightly. Hanamiya squeaks, but doesn't even try to push Teppei away, only tilts his head to the side to allow him better access. „Don't give me that, I know you watch me when I sleep."

Hanamiya sighs and sharply turns around and pushes Kiyoshi onto his back, straddling his waist in one fluid movement. „That's only because I still don't trust you."

„Shouldn't that be my line?" Kiyoshi wonders, slightly amused. Somehow it seems to him that Hanamiya is well on his way to forget everything that happened between them before the world was overrun by mosters. Strange, because one would think Hanamiya would stay faithful to the image of a total asshole he cultivated with such care in the past, but well, perhaps now, when there are no people to hurt (or hurt more than they've already been), he thinks it doesn't really matter and doesn't pretend anymore. „Your hair has gotten long."

„What." Hanamiya deadpans, surprised by the sudden change of topic. (Oh has it?). Kiyoshi's fingers gently run through the dark, damp strands, and yes, Hanamiya can't even remember when the last time he cut it was. „Fuck you, at least I can wear a ponytail."

„Oh of course, princess."

„You're impossible."

„My line, again." escapes Kiyoshi's lips, and before Hanamiya can find a snide remark to respond with, Kiyoshi tilts his hips upwards, throwing the other's balance off, and Hanamiya falls forward, landing on Kiyoshi's broad chest. „Now shut up and kiss me."

„In your dreams." Hanamiya mutters, but the resolve in his voice is long gone. After all he's lying atop a moderately attractive (or also absoutely hideous were he to say aloud), nice (insufferable) man (piece of shit), who's noticeably underdressed and very aroused, judging from the pressure Hanamiya feels against his ass.

„Come on, Makoto."
„Don't say my name like that." (Oh yes, please do, it is very arousing).

„Makoto." At this point, Kiyoshi is barely whispering into the side of Hanamiya's neck, since the man is looking to the side in a futile attempt to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. „Look at me."

„No. Leave me alone." Hanamiya's breathing is heavy, tickling the still wet skin on Teppei's shoulder, lips only inches from touching the freckles atop.

„I'm not holding you here, you're free to go." Teppei chuckles. True, his fingers are still toying with Hanamiya's hair, but nothing more, the other arm lies limply at his side, has been the entire time, as if he were trying to prove his point. „But I'd rather have you stay."

Hanamiya can't see his face but he can practically hear the smirk in his voice. He knows the battle is already lost for him, but he is not going to give up just yet, he never would. (it doesn't matter if they are fighting side by side, covered in gore, or against each other with words as their weapons) „Sometimes I wonder why I haven't killed you yet."

„Because I'm too good looking to be murdered in cold blood?" An arm sneaks around Hanamiya's waist (again), broad palm warm and soothing at the small of his back. Kiyoshi's hips move a little, and his erection rubs against Hanamiya's ass more insistently.

„You're so shameless."

„You like it." He does, but he'd rather be torn apart by those walking corpses than admit it aloud.

„In your dreams."

„Want to know what else you like in my dreams?" Kiyoshi is grinning, Hanamiya feels it against the side of his neck, and flushes even deeper red, realizing the thought of Kiyoshi getting off to him makes him grow hard in his pants.

„Oh god whatever just stop this." Hanamiya groans when Kiyoshi's palm slides a little lower and squeezes his ass.

„Oh of course, Makoto." It earns Kiyoshi a harsh bite to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and it's very worth it indeed.