Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 5: Help

**(Note that this chapter contains mild sexual themes, underaged drinking, and mentions of death)**

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Peter
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We didn't speak while we walked, taking our sweet time strolling down the uneven path of broken pavement. The roads that had carried the steady rumble of motors and horns of traffic just a few days before now remained silent, the strange stillness permeating the air. An uncomfortable toiling settled in my gut at the quiet soaking us since I had always preferred the bustle of life even as a boy. Squashing down the instinct to hit something or scream, I instead immersed myself in the same mindset as Lauren.

First, find food and water, then medicine. Occasionally, we would stop at a house to see if anyone was home. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed that they were all empty. We helped ourselves to whatever we could find. I knew that was considered looting, but to be fair, we were in the middle of a worldwide crisis.

At one of the particularly fancier houses, Lauren found some antibiotic cream and real bandages in a medicine cabinet. At the same time, I found some expensive-looking whiskey. Lucky me. Items in hand, we both sat down at the wooden table in the kitchen. Cracking open the amber beverage, I took a swig, the liquid burning a trail down my throat. Lauren busied himself with unwrapping the bloody strips from my arm. Wincing, I watched as he uncovered the singed mess. The skin around the burn has tapered to a pale grey color with beads of some sort of clear liquid seeping through where the charred flesh had popped. I grit my teeth, my entire forearm feeling like I was constantly pushing against a hotplate.

After throwing the linens away, Lauren cleaned the gash with a soapy towel and some water from the bottles we had gathered. Sucking a shaky breath through my teeth, I grit my teeth against the intense stinging sensation enveloping my forearm, my eyes squeezing shut against the searing pain. While his hands weren't exactly gentle, Lauren's expression remained calm as he diligent worked without hesitation.

Taking another long gulp of whiskey, I tried my best to ignore the pain as he held my arm, white knuckling my whiskey as fire laced up my forearm when he applied the burn antibiotic to the gruesome gash. What I couldn't figure out was why he was putting in so much effort just to help me. Honestly, I'd been surprised that he'd stuck around at all. With how horrible I had been towards him, I thought he would have taken off the first chance he got.

Instead, he was here. With me. Alone.

A grunt of pain escaped my clenched jaw when he sharply yanked on the bandages. Glancing over at him, I shifted my legs beneath the table and forced a frown. "You're enjoying this."

Lauren opened his mouth as though to deny it before he blinked up at me through long lashes. "A little," he admitted with a small smirk.

Ah, hell. My heart fluttered at the sight and I spent the remainder of the time it took to dress my arm staring at the bottle in my hand.

He soon finished and we resumed the search for more supplies. While scoping out the fancy-looking home office, I was surprised to find a silver barrel Ruger Wrangler hidden in one of the ornate desk draws. It was in pristine condition, appearing as though it had never been fired before. As discreetly as I could, I shoved the revolver into the backpack before Lauren returned.

Walking back into the living room, I saw Lauren attempting to turn on the television to watch the news, but there was no power. There wasn't a radio or a landline either.