CATEGORY: Angst, dystopian fiction, zombies
FEATURING: zombie!Tyler and boyfriend!Josh
TRIGGER WARNINGS: ZOMBIES, BLOOD, VOMIT, DISEASE, and CHARACTER DEATH! NOT FOR THE EASILY NAUSEOUS OR FAINT OF HEART!
PROMPT: Josh loved Tyler, but Tyler was a zombie. (semi-based on the game I Saw Her Standing There)
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1,620
THIS HURT TO WRITE.

Josh loved Tyler, but Tyler was a zombie.

That's what they called them, the victims of the terrible disease that had started in Africa, moved through Europe, and eventually made its way into North America. The victims weren't undead, however; they always died at the end of their terrible fight.

On the first day you got the disease, you slept through it. A whole twenty-four hours, completely unconscious. When you finally woke, you had changed. Your skin was pale, and it became increasingly difficult to eat. You knew the end was near when you vomited black bile, and your tears were red with blood.

It only took a month to do you in, and there was no cure.

When it had started to spread across the US, the President had warned everyone to stay indoors and avoid contact with other people as much as possible. (A/N: Probably the only reasonable thing Trump has ever done) If you had the disease, you had to go to special hospitals set up around the country, where doctors would care for you until you died. They were still working on finding a cure, but so far everything they had done to the test subjects only killed them faster.

The disease was spread by touch--if you touched anyone who had it, you would get sick. Some people, however, like Josh, were found to be immune.

Josh knew he was immune because his boyfriend was a zombie.

They had moved in together about a year ago, into a small apartment in Columbus. They were great together: all their friends commented on what a cute couple they made. Whenever this happened, Tyler and Josh would just smile at each other, because they already knew.

The day Josh's world started to crumble was like any other day in the new, disease-ruled world. He and Tyler had been holed up in their apartment for four days, trying to avoid going out and catching the disease.

Josh woke early. He was worried. He and Tyler had enough food in their apartment to last them a while, at least a month. LIke many others, they'd started stocking up. Still, he worried that they would run out of food and have to risk going to the store and battling other people for supplies.

He just wanted to forget about everything. Josh rolled over in bed and nestled close to his boyfriend.

Tyler's body was ice cold.

Josh sat up immediately, leaning over him. "Tyler?"

Nothing.

He shook his boyfriend's shoulder. Tyler couldn't be sick. He was so optimistic about the whole situation, so sure that everything was going to be alright in the end. "Tyler!"

Still no response. He was out.

Josh started breathing hard. No, no, this couldn't be happening.

He didn't think about himself catching the disease even once. He couldn't, wouldn't think about anything but Tyler.

Josh spent almost the whole twenty-four hours with Tyler. He made his meals in the kitchen and brought them into the room so he could be with Tyler. He read aloud to Tyler, in the hopes that he could still hear him. He layered Tyler with blankets to keep him warm. He fell asleep next to him, still clinging to hope.

Josh woke the next morning to the sound of Tyler's moans. The poor boy was still coming out of it, and clearly he was in pain somewhere.

"Tyler? You're awake?"

Already, the boy was paler than he had been yesterday. "J-Joshie, I'm thirsty, can I have a drink?"

"Of course, baby." Josh hurried out of the room and returned with a glass of water from the sink.

Shakily, Tyler sat up and managed to take small sips. After the water was gone, he carefully set the glass down on the bedside table.

"Josh...you didn't touch me, did you?"

Josh didn't say anything.

"Joshie..." Tyler teared up. "Please say you didn't touch me."

Josh finally spoke. "I'm so sorry, petal."

Only then did Tyler start to cry.

Josh took care of Tyler as best he could that first day, keeping him covered under blankets, bringing him into the dining room to eat, and helping him brush his teeth and hair. Josh touched Tyler like he normally did; the both of them figured that if Josh was going to get sick, it didn't matter if he touched Tyler now.

The next day, though, Josh woke up with Tyler and he still wasn't sick.

"You must be one of the immunes," Tyler had said. He had looked happy, then. Happier than he had been since he'd gotten sick. "You'll make it."

"Hey." Josh took Tyler's hands. "So will you, love."

"It's not very likely."

"Don't say that." Josh hugged Tyler tightly. "We'll both make it. Together. Okay?"

Tyler didn't have the heart to argue any more with him about it. "Okay."

On the morning of the third day, Tyler woke before Josh did. Josh found him sitting on the couch in the living room, watching the news broadcasts.

"I'm supposed to go to a shelter now, aren't I." The way Tyler said it, it didn't sound like a question.

Josh hugged him close. "Not on my watch."

"I don't want to risk it. I know you haven't been sick yet, but what if you do get sick later? What if I infect someone else?"

"I'm not letting you go there. We'd never see each other again."

"But--"

"No! I'm not letting you go, Tyler. I wouldn't have any reason to keep going. You're staying here, and that's that."

Every morning, Josh and Tyler woke up together. Josh would shower, then help Tyler do the same. If Tyler was feeling particularly bad, Josh would just wash the other boy's hair in the sink.

After that, Josh would make breakfast for the both of them. He'd coax Tyler into eating at least some of his meal, and then Josh would eat his own.

They would spend the rest of the morning doing something together. Josh would read a book out loud for both of them, or they would just talk. Once or twice, they played a board game or puzzle, until Tyler got too tired or confused and they would have to stop. There wasn't any WifFi or internet anymore, so that was barred from them.

At noon, Josh would eat again, but it was harder to convince Tyler to eat lunch. He could usually worm in a few bites of something, but after that Tyler would refuse food. He said it hurt his stomach to eat, and while Josh knew his boyfriend needed food, he hated to see him in pain.

Afternoons were the worst. The television broadcast news from noon until four, and none of it was good. Countries in turmoil, revolutions, spreading illnesses, the few people who had amiable knowledge about the disease dropping dead from it. It was depressing, but Tyler wanted to watch it; he had a need to know what was going on in the rest of the world. Josh hated to see what was happening to everyone, but he kept the television on, for Tyler's sake.

In the evening, Josh would eat, and help Tyler eat as well. They'd go to bed together, falling asleep in each other's arms. It was the same routine, same occurrences every day.

Until, one morning, Josh woke to Tyler throwing up in the bathroom.

Josh put his head in his hands. He knew what it meant, that Tyler was vomiting now. He knew what was coming. He'd prepared himself for this every day for weeks. He'd been so sure he could handle it.

He cried anyway.

He let himself cry as much as he wanted for about ten minutes, but he tried to keep it quiet, for Tyler's sake. It was unlikely that he could hear Josh, as the poor sick boy was still retching, but Josh didn't want to risk upsetting him more.

When the ten minutes had passed, Josh got up. He wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve, and went into the bathroom.

It was much worse than Josh had thought. There was black vomit on the floor and toilet, a startling and nauseating sight. Tyler was hunched in the corner of the bathroom, by the tub. Josh could hear his muffle sobs.

Quickly, he swooped in, avoiding the vomit, and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "Tyler..."

Tyler just cried.

And before long, Josh did too.

Josh cleaned Tyler up, but ignored the mess in the bathroom for now. He carefully scooped up Tyler and carried him into the bedroom, helping him change into his favorite pajamas and settling him into bed.

Josh kept a bucket by the side of the bed in case Tyler needed to throw up again, but the worst seemed to be over, in the vomiting sense.

Unfortunately, that meant the end was drawing to a close.

"Joshie?"

Josh didn't want to look at Tyler. He didn't want to see what he knew was already there. He felt like if he didn't look, it wouldn't be true.

He looked.

Tyler's tears were red.

Josh went to him, and held Tyler close. He gave his boyfriend a final kiss.

"I love you, Joshie."

"I love you too, Tyler."