Rory

Francis was kind of a freak, I came to realize.

One day I just looked up to double check that, yup, I had emptied all of my weed containers and I had nothing left to smoke, chew, drink, having gone through all the supplies that I had built up as well as everything that Francis had brought back from his little ventures out.

And…

Yeah, it had been almost three months.

Three whole fucking months since I had left my apartment.

Three whole fucking months since the end of the world.

And now I was on day one of being completely sober.

And I was realizing that Francis was kind of a major freak.

I frowned as I slowly turned to look out at the living room where he was sitting with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his lips, sharpening his ax with a sharpening block, his hair gelled back, face clean shaven, dressed in all black.

Well dressed in all black. Like slacks and a button down shirt, the sort of thing you’d wear for a nice event.

I mean...he looked great for someone that had been frequently going out into the wild, getting supplies, killing zombies...and I was grateful for that, but, I mean, it didn’t seem to affect him at all, and that was just fucking weird.

Because Francis was sober, had been sober pretty much this entire time, I think – and...while drugs numbed the fuck out of me, you would think someone that was stone cold sober would be a little bit more impacted by the shit going on outside.

I went over to stand between the living room and the kitchen, looking to the sliding glass door and through the open curtains to look at all the decaying zombie heads sitting there on the railing, the sight of it all making my stomach turn.

I think it was easier to just think ‘wow, it’s basically Halloween decoration’ before, but now...they just really looked like fucking human heads.

He even braided the hair of one of them.

“What’s on your mind, Ree-ree?” Francis drawled.

I slowly looked back at him to see he was glancing up at me with a little smile.

“I going through some major withdrawal’s right now, man.” I said lowly, blinking hard. “This is the first time I’ve been...completely coherent in, like, five years -” I squinted at him, “And I’m starting to think that there’s something not entirely right with you.” I gave him a pointed look as he frowned.

“Rude.” He said with a pout, setting aside his sharpening stone as he spit out his unlit cigarette.

“Well-” I motioned to where he had ten zombie heads lined up on the railing of the balcony, then looking back to him with wide eyes. “That’s not right, man! Normal people don’t do that!”

His eyebrows lifted as his jaw went slack. “That’s for science.” He pointed a finger at me. “And you said it was a good idea!”

“I was fucking high off my balls.” I said with a little shake of my head, his jaw going slack. “And now that I’m sober – uh – I’m thinking it’s a little creepy!”

His mouth snapped closed and he suddenly jumped to his feet, sticking his cigarette in his mouth before he took his ax and went to the sliding glass door. He opened it and knocked each of the heads off the railing with the butt of his handle to their foreheads. When he was done he turned around and met my gaze with an expectant look.

“Thank you.” I said then, Francis inclining his head to me as he came back in.

“If something is bothering you, friend, then tell me and I will do what I can to fix it.” He said with wide eyes and a little frown. “I love you man, and I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

“You know what?” I licked my lips and put a hand on my hip, holding his gaze. “That is a really fucking healthy way to communicate, Francis,” I said, totally impressed. Francis nodded with a stern look and I nodded right back. “And I’m sorry that I got kind of bitchy right there- I’m having a really rough time with this whole things. Going through the end of the world sober was not the plan, man. I didn’t want to face a normal day sober, let alone, you know, the violent collapse of society. I’m not looking forward to what’s ahead of me one bit.”

He pointed a hand at me. “Apology accepted – now I think we both can use a nap-” He pointed to the cabinet. “I know it’s not weed, but I bet we got something to help you sleep off the worst of withdrawal.”

I sighed. “I feel like...being drugged during a zombie apocalypse is asking for trouble.” Adding quickly, “And being stoned doesn't count!”

“We had this talk, remember? When the zombies were climbing up the side of the building and we were debating if it was a good time to take some of that LSD I found. I’ll stay sober for the both of us, and that’s what matters.” He said before he went to the cabinet and pulled it open to see our selection of prescription bottles he had been bringing back every trip out. The kitchen drawers were fucking full of them. He hummed as he went through them, “Hey, got a Valium!” He said, turning with it. I sighed but nodded and he got out a pill, putting the bottle back. “You take this, take your little nappy, and when you get up, everything will be better.”

But everything was not fucking better when I got up.

If anything, it was much worse.

“Francis!” I called from where I was tightly tucked into bed, “Francis everything is not much better!” He came in with a frown, standing in the doorway before he quickly crossed the room to stand over me. “Bro, I don’t think I ever told you why I started taking weed – I had really intense, crippling anxiety about my mom dying, and now it’s coming back.” I said hurriedly.

“Bro, you told me the first day we met, and your mom’s been dead for years by now.” He said with a frown.

“Well now I’m having anxiety about everyone else dying!” I started in a panic, Francis looking like he was panicking before he hurried out of the room. I threw off my blankets and suddenly ran to the window to look out at all the dead bodies, the streets and sidewalks packed “OH MY GOD EVERYONE IS DEAD!” I screamed, sucking in a breath and letting out a scream as loud I as could, the cats frantically running in all directions.

Where did all the dead bodies come from!?

And how were they not being reanimated?!

And was my screaming going to draw in the reanimated ones?!

AND WHY COULDN’T I STOP SCREAMING?!

I heard someone running into my apartment and I whipped around, screaming as I saw Francis coming toward me with something in his hand.

“Quick, smoke this!” He said as he held up something small that kind of looked like a joint, only it was in brown paper. He stuck it in his mouth, lighting it before he took it out and held it back up for me.

“What- what is it?” I said as I took it from him and smoke it. I frowned, pulling it back and eyeing it before I took another long, hard drag. “Dude, is this fucking weed?” I said with a cough, “Really, really strong weed?”

He took my hand as I continued to smoke frantically, and holy fuck, it was strong. It had been a long while since I tasted something this good. We went out of my apartment and into his, going to his bedroom-

To see what looked like a weed farm, sitting under indoor lights.

“I wanted to surprise you for Christmas, but, you know. You really ate your way through the cities supply of weed gummies, man. Didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off that fast.” He said, patting my hand. “But kudos to you, man. You set yourself a goal and you really went for it.”

I slowly looked to him, holding my joint by my lips. My eyes welled up and I sucked in a breath, looking to him. “Does this make me your sugar baby?”

He grinned at me, nodding a little. “Yes, yes it does.”

I nodded a little and took another drag. “Okay,” I said as I exhaled, looking to my joint then. “I’d suck dick for this.”

“Sweet, because I’m like an eleven out of ten on the horny scale here.”

I bobbed my head. “Fair. Jus’ let me finish this and- and then -” I coughed, because it was just that strong, “-then we’ll figure something out.”

Figured since I’ve been letting him fuck me while I was high in exchange for shrooms since we’ve met, might as well suck his dick for weed. Now that I think about it, since he’s been doing all the runs for supplies, I probably should have been letting him fuck me sober earlier, but, you know, I figure it was better to make him work for it.

Who knows if I would have gotten him to build a little weed patch if I had put out earlier.

Mama always said I needed to make sure I didn’t settle.

I glanced down at his crotch and leaned back to get a better look at the whole picture, reaching down to grope him briefly through his pants. “Yeah,” I said as I tried to hold my breath, “Yeah I could fit that in my mouth.” He nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder and looking over his weed proudly as I continued to paw at his crotch. “Can you shower first, cuz I have a thing about my mouth.”

“Absolutely I can.” He said easily.

I took a long drag, struggling to hold it in before I said around an exhale “Muchas gracias.”

“De nada, Amigo.” He said with a nod and a smile. “I’m gonna go set up the shower thing in the sun and once that’s warmed up, I’ll clean up and we’ll, uh, figure out how strong your gag reflex.”

“I don’t have one,” I said before I took a long drag off my joint, exchanging a grin with Francis before I wandered back into my apartment to look around and decide where I wanted to blow Francis. It should probably be like, someone good since it was such a landmark in our relationship – I’d gotten it in the ass a few times by him, but this was so much more personal.