#i want kieran to fuck my throat while paul pounds me from behind

[harcourtholmesii]

In This Here, Beautiful World... (Part 1)

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Pairings: Medic X Heavy / Scout X Miss Pauling / Scout’s Ma X Spy / Soldier X Zhanna / Engineer X Original Character / Saxton Hale X Maggie

Warnings: - Swearing - Physical Abuse and Violence - Verbal Abuse - Minor Gore - Implied Death

Words: 1913

Summary: When the world goes to shit, in order to survive, you need to be ruthless, and you need to be prepared to do whatever it takes. When nine strangers and their families come together to fight back the zombie plague, tensions will rise between them all, threatening to pull them apart and kill them from the inside-out. It’s a shitty summary, I know. ^^

Enjoy!

‘Hey! Yo! I got a delivery here for a Mister Brookes!’

 Jeremy hammered his fist against the door, louder than the first time. He had been standing out here for a good twenty minutes, waiting for this douchebag to open the door. The boss would kill him if he returned with cold pizza or if he got a call from the tenant saying he never received the order.

 Jeremy shifted from foot to foot, his sneakers squeaking lightly against the cracked linoleum floor. He couldn’t just wait here forever! He was already running behind schedule and he needed the money!

 He pounded his fist against the door again; a neighbour poked her careworn face out her door to peer at the disturbance.

 ‘D-Do you mind keeping it down, young man?’

 ‘I wouldn’t have to be loud if this guy would just open the door!’ He continued to pound his fist, hearing how the hinges whined under his abuse.

 The old lady shut her door when it became obvious he wouldn’t stop. For a moment, the thought came to Jeremy’s mind that she might be calling the cops. He wouldn’t stay here anymore if that was the case, and he sure as shit wasn’t leaving a perfectly good pizza on this ungrateful dick’s doorstep.

 He stomped down the hall, passing by the old lady’s door. He could hear her speaking to someone on the inside, but he didn’t stop to wait for the sound of sirens. It wasn’t like he was trying to disturb the peace; he just wanted some fucking tips!

 He leapt onto the railing of the stairwell, letting his weight skirt him down the metal of the banister. He whipped down one flight, and then another, until his feet planted themselves firmly on the first floor. He pushed the glass doors out of his way, the frame cracking loudly against the brick of the building.

 He trotted down the stairs, looking about left and right for some dumpster. Instead, the sight of an older man pushing a small trolley of garbage bags and raggedy clothes caught his eye. Jeremy felt the anger lessen, if only a little. He hated seeing people roaming the streets like this, without a home or place to go to. Filthy rich dickheads and politicians wouldn’t spare a single coin to them and it made him sick.

 He approached and simply cleared his throat to get the scraggly man’s attention. He couldn’t see his eyes beneath the unwashed hair, but as he offered the pizza pie to him, those hands shook excitedly, reaching out and taking it with hesitance. Those tanned hands opened up the box, the smell of melted cheese and cooked meat wafting into the air.

 ‘T-Thank you…’ Jeremy just nodded, offering him a lazy wave of ‘don’t worry about it’. He took off at full sprint down the street, leaving behind the apartment and the man in his dust. He had to be quick back to the restaurant, so his manager wouldn’t get pissy.

 He ran at great speed down the bustling city streets, dodging about those that got in his path. Families, businessmen and construction workers had little time to part ways for him. He compensated for their lack of awareness by leaping over the guard railings, jumping the hoods of stationary traffic and racing through the wavering legs of scaffolding. He got the odd call from some of the workers, but it had become a common enough practice, Jeremy was almost ignored by bystanders.

 The wind whipped his hair and face, threatening to throw the delivery cap off his head. Finally, he rounded a corner and into the shop, in time to see his boss glowering from across the counter.

 ‘You’re late.’

 ‘Yeah.’ He muttered, replacing the empty pack onto the shelf. He threw himself into compiling the list of orders and strangling his waist with a rubber apron. ‘I know. I know. Guy wasn’t home or was ignorin’ me. I tried!’

 ‘So what happened to the order?’

 He hated the shakedown. This was not the first time that Jeremy had arrived back to the store, hands empty of payment.

 ‘I just left it on the doorstep.’

 ‘Are you kidding me, Jeremy?’ The boy rolled his eyes, roughly taking the pizza cutter and beginning his work on dividing the pie apart. A fly buzzed in his ear, which he swatted away in disgust. ‘You know to wait for the customer to open the door!’

 ‘I woulda been there the whole fuckin’ afternoon!’ He barked back, cutting into the pizza harder than he meant to. The box splintered beneath the pressure and the blade near sliced his fingers. He slammed the lid down, and started upon the next one.

 ‘Did you call them?’

 ‘The phone’s been broke’ for a while now! I can’t call them with that garbage!’ He was lucky that this place had been so lax with language. He and the manager often shared bouts of abuse, but it made it easier to adapt. Instead of shutting his lips, he could hurl curses back at the useless prick behind the counter. He knew it tested the man’s patience, and certainly didn’t encourage the man to keep him around, but he put in the effort. And the man couldn’t deny that he was the best delivery boy he had, not to mention the only one.

 ‘You keep this shit up, Jeremy, and you’ll be outta here faster than your mother can pump out another brat!’

 Oh, now that was too far!

 Jeremy could take this shit when it was aimed at him, but at his family, at his ma specifically, he wouldn’t stand for it. He didn’t even want to work at this shitty pizza place anyway!

 He threw off the smock, tossing the prepared pizzas across the steel table and at his ex-manager. He leapt over it, and with hands clenched, hit him once across the nose. There was the spatter of blood and the satisfying crack of cartilage, as the man was sent reeling back and into the tubs of sauce.

 Barbecue, crème fraiche and tomato sauce went flying all about, coating the man head to toe in the expired spreads. Jeremy tore his shirt as he ripped his nametag off and tossed it into the dickhead’s shocked face. Guess he hadn’t been expecting someone like Jeremy to fight back.

 Jeremy may have been scrawnier than his brothers, but he was fast, and more than a little anger fuelled his strength. He leaned down on the tile, gripping the man’s collar tight and lifting up the mess just enough that they nearly met nose-to-nose.

 ‘Don’t you ever talk about my ma again! You even look in her direction, even get one whiff of her perfume, and you’ll lose those nuts of yours, you got that?!’ He dropped the shaking mess of a manager back into the sea of red, white and brown.

 Then Jeremy stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

 He didn’t run off like he had done to get to the restaurant. He took his time, instead, to simmer down. He didn’t want his ma to see him like this. He knew she’d be disappointed that he lost another job, and he couldn’t just tell her what that dickhead had said. He just hoped she would forgive him for being so brash.

 He passed by a number of stores, all at various points of shutting down for the afternoon or for good. Graffiti created a continuous line for him to follow along; signatures, doodles and even grand pieces of street art provided a guide as to his location, wherever he was in the city. An electronics store was still playing the local news as he passed it by, detailing some local flu hotspots, and an old music shop had been packed up into several wooden boxes.

 The townhouse he lived in with his ma was at the end of a long street, between two apartment buildings that crammed it tightly between them. It appeared as if squashed by the neighbouring buildings; three storeys tall, with a pair of windows to each floor. It was an icky cream colour, with a small rooftop garden that had two lines of wet clothes waving about in the breeze.

 Jeremy plucked a key from beneath the mat and entered inside. The lights were on, and he could hear in the room to his left their old, junk box playing some fitness program. He sighed, feeling his shoulders sag as he attempted to release his fuming breath and calm himself before he met his ma.

 She spoke first when he entered the living room.

 ‘You’re home early.’

 She pulled herself back up from a stretch, turning to offer him the warmest smile he ever did see. He stuttered with apologies, attempting to tell her what happened without mentioning what that asshole had said. She just fluttered her hand, as if shooing away his discomfort and his excuses, rounding the old couch and bringing him into a hug.

 He relaxed immediately, returning the affection with a tight squeeze.

 ‘I’m sorry.’

 ‘Don’t be. You can always find another job; one much more suitable for the fine, young man you are.’ She said. His ma always knew exactly what to say. ‘I couldn’t be more proud of my boy. You held out for six months, Jeremy. You blew your last record right out of the water!’

 He huffed a breath of laughter, the only sound he could manage with all this praise. He knew, through the smile and the gentle words, that his ma was a little bit upset. He needed a job; just so he could support her as his brothers did, if not just himself. Her work as a pre-school teacher had been able to keep them all above water, but the old townhouse was falling apart without the necessary care.

 His two eldest brothers, Mark and Kieran, had left about a year ago; both of them attempting to pursue some apprenticeships in engineering and hospitality. The third oldest, his brother Blake, had been talking with their ma recently about moving in with his girlfriend out of state.

 Lucas, Julien and Oliver had stayed in school, but hadn’t gotten the grades to gain any kind of scholarship. They were still at work, no doubt, doing more than Jeremy ever could. They could put up with the bullshit demands of customers, and the abuse from their managers. But this was the third job that Jeremy had left behind this year alone.

 ‘Why don’t you come sit down, and you can tell me what really happened?’ She kissed his cheek and guided him to the lounge. The fitness program was switched to the news, but turned down until the broadcast was a mere mutter.

 Jeremy felt embarrassed to say much to her, but he knew that his ma wanted to hear what he had to say. As he spoke, detailing the list of demands he had suffered through that day, the news station switched headlines. Unbeknownst to Jeremy or his ma, a fast-acting viral infection was rapidly spreading through several different hotspots across the city. If they had been paying any mind, they would have seen the havoc being caused from the crappy cellphone footage.

 They only noticed when a scream radiated from the television, the one recording the chaos suddenly on the ground.

 Another, sickly man, had his face buried deep into his intestines.