Stung (Zombie Gentlemen) (13 page)

Crunch snorted. “Right. Asking for cake, telling
me ya’ll see me again. Fuck ya!” He sat down on a simple wooden bench, eyeing
Victor up. How the fuck was he supposed to lash that puddle of jello?

“What could I have said?” Victor sniffed, hugging
his knees. Even in the small cell, he looked delicate and breakable against the
bricks. “You would try to stop me!”

“Hell yeah I would! I told ya to trust me and keep
out of trouble.” Crunch shook his head and hid his face in his hands. “All a
fuckin’ act...”

“It wasn’t an act! And I did what I did,
because... I needed to leave.” Victor’s voice croaked.

Crunch rubbed his temples, trying to think of a
way out of this hopeless situation. “I’m such an idiot,” he muttered to
himself.

“You’re an idiot for even coming here.” Victor
pressed his cheek into his muddy arm, sniffing again. “You should be in London,
fucking some pretty boy right now.”

“Ya know nothing, Victor. If ya just trusted me...
fuck...” Crunch rubbed the bridge of his nose, slumping forward and looking at
the wood beneath his shoes. It stank of rot, just like about everything in
Honeyhill.

“I know,” Victor rasped. “But if I stayed, it
would be trouble for both of us.”

“Stupid boy. This place is getting taken over by
Humanists tomorrow. If ya just fuckin’ waited as I told ya,” Crunch blurted out
in a whisper.

Victor’s eyes became wide as saucers. He was
silent for a few seconds, and Crunch could practically hear his mind digesting
that information. “Is
that
why Sharpe took an interest in you?” the lad
choked out eventually.

“Nah, he’s too dumb. He wanted my position.”
Crunch stared blankly at the wall above Victor.

“He was questioning me about you.”

“What? When?” Crunch furrowed his eyebrows and
finally focused on the other man’s face.

Victor bit his lip. His face twisted into a pained
expression as he cowered into an even tighter ball. “The day before
yesterday...”

Crunch bit his lip, remembering the conversation
he had with Sharpe at breakfast. “Fucker seemed interested in yar ring. Ya told
‘im somethin’?”

“What would I tell him? That I let you fuck me?”
Victor looked plain miserable, clenching and unclenching his bandaged hand. The
cotton bandage was now all muddy and wet. “He didn’t believe any of my lies, so
I had to give him something. I told him you took my ring.”

Crunch shook his head and got up slowly. “Yeah,
don’t ya worry, ya won’t have to
bear
me fuckin’ ya anymore,” he said
with resentment. It was like carrying a rock on his chest.

“Why are you being such an arsehole?” Victor
snapped. “I expected you to use me, but you were good to me, you tried to take
care of me. Why are you doing this now?”

Crunch walked up to a metal pump in the corner of
the room and poured some fresh water into a bucket, pumping ferociously to
unload at least some of the anger mounting up inside. “Cause I’m not gonna let
ya play me again!”

“I am
not
playing you! Do you think me such
an actor?” Victor shook his head. “If I was that good, Sharpe would have just
accepted what I said.”

“Guess I was blinded by yar pretty face.” Crunch
sighed, tugging the bucket to Victor and kneeling beside him to untie his
wrists.

“I wasn’t faking it, you idiot.” Victor shoved at
his chest, but winced at the contact and pulled his hands back as soon as they
were free.

“How do I know?” Crunch shrugged, though his heart
was pounding in anticipation.

“Maybe because I let him cut me so that he doesn’t
have anything on you.” Hurt was evident in Victor’s voice now. The lad looked
away, tensing the muscles of his jaw.

“Boo hoo. Fuckin’ romantic,” Crunch snarled back
at him and plopped his arse down on the wooden floor.

Victor looked at him as if he just jabbed a knife
into his chest. And then, he kicked Crunch’s knee.

“The fuck?” Crunch opened his eyes wide and
grabbed his leg, which now throbbed in pain.

“Fuck you,” mumbled Victor, crawling away like a
worm. He left a dark trail on the floor.

Crunch raised his eyebrows. “Ya can untie yar
ankles ya know.”

Victor’s face flushed, and he yanked at the rope,
backing away into the nearest corner once he was done. He didn’t even look into
Crunch’s direction, keeping his gaze on the wall. It was painful to watch.

“I saved yar life today, remember?”

“What the hell do you want now, huh?” Victor was
hissing through his teeth, watching him with wide eyes. “Can’t make up your
fucking mind?”

“No problem. Let’s get this over with!” Crunch got
to his feet. “Get up.”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head,
hiding his face against the wall.

“Ya not so eager for me to make up my mind now,
are ya?” Crunch hovered over him like one of the undead bees in the Hives. He
still didn’t know what to do about the punishment. He’d take the lashes himself
if that was an option. Not because he was some knight in shining armour, but
because he
was
stronger, more used to pain.

“Stop...” Victor pressed on the wall as if he
hoped it would somehow let him melt into the bricks.

Crunch looked at the human ball of anxiety and
finally slouched, walking back to the bench. What a fucked up situation. He was
looking at Victor from time to time, but the boy remained immobile, as if he
had fallen asleep, though Crunch was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. The lad
was frozen in fear, like a startled rabbit.

It felt like ages before Crunch finally decided to
speak. “Victor... I got ya water in that bucket, yeah?” He took off the helmet
and jacket, feeling completely useless. He couldn’t endanger the operation just
so he wouldn’t have to hurt the boy he fucked a few times.

Victor peeked at him from below his wavy bangs.
“What are you going to do to me?” His voice was raspy and tight. Resigned.

“The punishment is lashing.” Crunch tried to sound
neutral, but he barely managed, especially with the way Victor curled into an
even tighter ball by the cold wall. Like it could protect him from the whip.

“I told ya to keep out of trouble.” Crunch
repeated those words again, like a mantra, but got up, deciding it was high
time to move things forward. He took the bucket and some rags from a pile in
the corner before approaching Victor.

“I wanted to keep out of trouble,” whined the boy,
pressing his cheek into the bricks.

“By disappearing?” Crunch squatted next to him and
reached out to stroke his arm.

“I didn’t know what else he would do,” croaked
Victor, shivering at the touch. “I couldn’t sleep, I...”

“Ah, come on...” Crunch gave in to the urge and
pulled the boy into a hug. Victor did not deserve to be here and have to deal
with the likes of Sharpe. Victor stiffened, but within seconds, his muscles
relaxed, and he was pressing into Crunch’s embrace, shaken by soft tremors.

“Ya’ll be laughin’ at this next year,” Crunch
whispered, embracing Victor and stroking his back.

“You think?” The lad cleared his throat and
reached for the water, getting to his knees. “Is that what you do?”

“I suppose. Ya seen me laugh at my broken nose.”
Crunch forced a smile.

Victor sighed, licking his lips. “I don’t think
it’s that funny.” He stuck his head into the bucket, taking a big swig of water
and turned his head back to rinse his mouth with it.

“I’d rather ya washed a bit, so there’s no risk of
infections.”

Victor spit the water on the floor before taking
another swig. He nodded, taking off the dirty bandage and gathered some water
in his other hand to clear the injury.

Crunch stood up and paced around the room yet
again. This wouldn't be nearly as hard if he were to lash some criminal instead
of a young man sent to the farm because of bad judgement.

“When is it you said?” Victor yanked his shirt over
his head in one abrupt move. The ring on his neck flickered in the weak
lamplight, just inches over an angry, swollen weal. Crunch had seen those many
times since he arrived in Honeyhill. It was exactly why he didn’t want Victor
to work in the Hives. A few more of those, and the lad would become food for
the zombie flowerbeds.

“What?” Crunch looked back at him, yanked out of
his own thoughts.

“When will the camp be taken over?” With all the
clothing shed, Victor was cleaning his body vigorously.

“Tomorrow.” Even now, Crunch couldn’t keep his
eyes off the smooth skin and lean physique.

Victor groaned, letting his head fall in
resignation. “Fuck!”

“What?”

“What do you think? If I knew it was just a day
more...” Victor shook his head, washing his chest in quick moves.

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Crunch burst out in so
much anger that it took even him by surprise. He was was getting edgy just from
looking at the whip on the wall.

“Well, you demanded trust, yet you didn’t give me
any!” Victor snapped right back at him.

Crunch gritted his teeth. “Ya have no idea how
much I put into this mission! Was I supposed to confess to a pretty stranger I
just met?”

Victor’s dark eyes met his. “Was I supposed to
trust a guard in a camp I was held in against my will? Just because he promised
me he’ll take me back home sometime?”

“Yes, fuckin’ yes. And even if ya didn’t, I
thought you’d wait a fuckin’
week
!”

“Sharpe would feed me to the fucking zombies the
next time he fancied questioning me! I wouldn’t last a ‘fucking week’!” Victor
punctuated his anger with a loud splash of water. Some of the droplets fell
close to Crunch’s boots, leaving wet spots on the floor.

Crunch sighed. It
was
his fault. He
shouldn’t have gotten involved with Victor in the first place. Could have kept
his cock in his trousers. He watched the lad finish his quick bath and,
finally, their eyes met again. Victor bit his lip.

“I need... a bandage or some clean cotton.”

“Yeah, I’ll sort ya out after...” Crunch looked to
the floor. How was he supposed to go through with this punishment?

“For the hand. It opened because... of all that.”
He moved his feet in the puddle of water he was now standing in.

Crunch got another glance of Victor’s delicious,
wet form, before he turned to the old cabinet by the door. “I’ll take care of
ya tomorrow, don’t worry,” he muttered, looking through the mess on the shelves
to find some cloth.

The floor creaked behind him and as he rummaged
through the boxes of supplies, Victor’s wet body pressed into his. For a split
second, Crunch could barely breathe, too overwhelmed by something he had never
felt before and couldn’t pinpoint at all.

“I’m sorry... Crunch, I had to go. I got this
feeling you would do something unreasonable if I told you what happened. I had
to go anyway, and I didn’t want to get you in trouble.” Victor snuggled his
face between Crunch’s shoulder blades. A rush of air over Crunch’s nape told
him Victor was sniffing him.

“Ya really like me,” he whispered and slowly
grabbed Victor’s uninjured hand, howling inside. How the fuck was he supposed
to lash him
now
?

“I already told you I do.” Victor pulled Crunch
closer with his hurt hand, careful to only use its outer side. “I was thinking
you could make it easy for me, but after we spent some time in that watchtower,
I knew you were a good man.”

“Me? A good man? ‘ow?” Crunch uttered a quiet
laugh. In his heart, he knew he was just prolonging the time before he would
have to execute the punishment.

Victor sighed, slowly pulling on Crunch’s arm so
that they would face one another. “You are very gentle. And you fed me honey
even when I refused you.” Victor smiled, keeping his eyes at Crunch’s
collarbones as if he didn’t dare to look up.

Crunch sighed and stroked his wet hair. “I
promised.”

The gaze Victor gave him when he finally looked
up, made Crunch’s stomach flutter. Those eyes, so dark and yet so clear, had a
million words for Crunch, but all Victor said was, "I know."

Crunch hugged him close again, overwhelmed by how
strange it was to be responsible for someone. “It’ll all be over tomorrow.
Everything will change soon.”

Victor nodded, glancing at him with hesitation,
but then got to his toes and pressed his mouth to Crunch’s. “It’s scary,” he
whispered, lips tickling Crunch’s as they moved. “But I’m going to miss this.”

“No, ya won’t.” Crunch laughed nervously into the
kiss and hugged him tighter, sliding his hands under Victor’s arms, which were
icy from the wash, all tender and covered with goosebumps.

“Will that be the one thing that won’t change?”
Victor pressed his nose against Crunch’s, without ever breaking the kiss.

“I... what’d ya mean?”

Victor blinked and quickly buried his face in
Crunch’s arm. His naked body felt warm and achingly familiar. “That maybe... we
don’t have to miss each other?”

Crunch’s heart started thumping in his chest like
mad. Victor would want to see him back in London? “I-- I would wish for
that...” He leaned in for another kiss. “But I will surely have another
mission. This is just the beginning.”

Victor sighed, stroking the sides of Crunch’s face
with his fingertips. “We haven’t known each other for long. We’ll work
something out, right?”

“Yes... If ya still want to see me after this, I
will try to visit.” He took a deep breath, running his fingers along Victor’s
back. The young man arched into him with a soft sound.

“Do you have a family back in London?”

“No... They’re all dead.” Crunch kissed his ear,
smelling the streaks of hair. “They didn’t make it through the first years of
the Plague.”

Victor leaned into the caress with so much trust
Crunch almost forgot they were in a torture cell. “I live with my father, but
our house is large enough for more people. Would you like to stay with me after
this is all over? I owe you.”