IT WAS unexpected. The bugs, the storms, the kiss—all of it. Wade stroked his bottom lip with a thumb, arm propped against the car door, lost in memories as the road and barren countryside blurred by. It wasn’t even a year ago now he’d met Jaxxon at a bar during the height of the superbug outbreak. Not quite a year since everything went to hell, not quite a year since the world shifted, moved past the point where everyone could silently acknowledge there was no turning back.

Jaxxon’s wife, Rose, had just left him, taking their ten-year-old daughter south to live in Florida. Where she had family. Where food could be grown easier, longer, larger. Wade had listened to Jaxxon as he purged his system of it all, and wiped down the bar, brought him another. All the televisions broadcasted sports except the one nearest to Wade, set to the news of the breakdown of society. Deaths the world over. Chaos in Europe. Panic in every large city in the States. But here in the middle of nowhere, Wisconsin, beer flowed on as usual. Wade let Jaxxon stay as long as he could.

“Gotta close up,” said Wade, taking away Jaxxon’s empty glass. He flicked off the news before the updated death tolls could be read, plunging the bar into silence. When he turned back, Jaxxon yanked him halfway across the counter, placed his drunken mouth on Wade’s.

It was a shitty kiss. Wade still went home with him. They made out for a while on Jaxxon’s bed; when he passed out, Wade curled up beside him, tried not to wonder whether this had been Rose’s side of the bed. It was nearly noon when Wade woke and it took him a good fifteen minutes to figure out where the coffee was. He brought steaming mugs back to the bedroom and Jaxxon rolled over, groaning.

“Shit,” he said. “Did we…?”

“Nah,” said Wade. “But I wanna get back home. Think you can drive? We left your car back at the bar.”

“You drove me home.”

“Not like you could,” said Wade.

“How considerate,” said Jaxxon, words a growl. He groaned again as he rolled toward his coffee.

The drive back to the bar passed in utter silence, but when Wade parked, Jaxxon made no move to get out. Wade debated a moment, then turned the car off.

“What?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you beat my ass? I kissed you, right?”

Wade shrugged. Jaxxon shook his head.

“What the hell. The world is ending. I don’t give a fuck.” He opened the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

Wade watched him get in his truck and drive off. He sat for a while as it began to snow, big, wet flakes that would turn to slush on the road. The weather was wild, fluctuating between the deep-cold temperatures normal for January and chilling rain, although mostly winter had been settling on the rain. Still, Wade knew how to handle freezing rain; word in the news was sea levels were up so high around the world people along the coasts were evacuating their homes. He shook his head and started the car.

 

 

“THIS IS as far as I go,” said the white woman, pulling over at the side of the road. Wade hadn’t asked for her name and she hadn’t asked for his. Hitchhikers were so commonplace and brief now that many people didn’t bother. Everyone was trying to get somewhere better. Everyone knew there wasn’t anyplace better.

“Thanks,” said Wade and stepped out into rain. It was always raining in Wisconsin now. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and gave her a friendly wave as she drove off.

He trudged down the muddy road, glaring at the odd police drone that passed him by. Technically it was illegal for him to be on the interstate on foot, but there were so few cars these days that it was hardly dangerous. The drones would scan his face and he’d have a mailbox full of fines when he got back. If he ever got back.

It was nearly five in the evening and getting dark fast in true December fashion, reminding Wade he’d have to find someplace to settle down soon. The moon wasn’t anywhere near full and it was raining. It would be too much to continue in the darkness, but he wanted to push on a little farther. There was bound to be an abandoned farmhouse along the road somewhere.

He laughed to himself. Today was a turning point. He could feel it in his bones. Just like that day he’d gone home with Jaxxon. If he’d left the bar immediately, if he hadn’t sat in the parking lot for a while after Jaxxon drove off, he would have missed the news. He didn’t listen to the radio at home, rarely opened a news site online. But the timing had been right. He’d lingered, turned on the car, and heard about the end of society as he knew it. The Apocalypse, as people took to calling it. January third: the end and beginning of everything.

“The president has been assassinated,” the news reporter had said. “While en route to a safe house, her envoy was attacked. The vice president and speaker of the house are currently ill. More will be updated on this story as it develops. Around the country, survival rates for those contracting superbug infections have gone up from a 30 percent chance of recovery to 40 percent as states are mobilizing emergency procedures.”

Words of the death and assassination echoing in his head, Wade had made a U-turn at the next stop sign and drove into town instead of home. He could visit his apartment later. For now his mind raced. Something big, something bad, was happening. No superbugs had made it yet to this pocket of Wisconsin, but they would, and with no president at the moment, he could only envision chaos erupting.

He went to the store.

There didn’t seem to be many people doing what he was yet: stocking up. Wade went for canned foods, rice and other grains, spices and shelf-durable sauces. He also bought toilet paper, toothpaste, deodorant. Mothers out shopping with their children shot him nasty looks. He completely filled his car, wondering whether he should stop at the bank and pull out cash.

“What are you doing here?” asked Jaxxon when he opened the door. He wore only a bathrobe, his hair damp, and Wade realized Jaxxon had expected to never see him again.

“The president’s dead,” said Wade, as though that explained it.

“Not my problem.” Jaxxon moved to close the door, but Wade stepped inside and set down the multiple plastic bags he’d managed to juggle to the house.

“Things are going to change,” said Wade as Jaxxon glared at him.

“Things have already.”

Wade knew Jaxxon was referring to his wife leaving him, mainly, but also the superbugs. Antibiotics didn’t work on them anymore, and several aggressive strains had been making their way across the country with high mortality rates. Larger cities like New York and Chicago were already well into riots. But with no president, Wade could not see the state of things moving in any direction but worse. And he didn’t particularly care to ride that out on his own.

“I live alone,” said Wade, deciding to be blunt. “I don’t want to.”

“Just because I kissed you and let you drive me home does not mean you can move in with me,” said Jaxxon. “I was drunk.”

Wade smiled, leaned into Jaxxon’s personal space.

“Wanna kiss me again and see how you feel about it sober?”

Jaxxon pushed him away with a hand.

“Do not try to tell me you’re straight,” said Wade.

“I don’t even know you,” said Jaxxon instead, but his glare was gone now. He seemed more curious than anything that he couldn’t get rid of Wade.

“Last night wasn’t enough to earn your trust?”

“What are you, desperate?” asked Jaxxon. He was eyeing the plastic bags now. “What’s in there?”

“Those? Toothpaste and deodorant. Canned and other nonperishable food’s in the car. Wouldn’t mind help unloading.”

“I didn’t say you could move in,” said Jaxxon again, but he was clearly looking Wade up and down now. Debating. He wouldn’t want to be alone either. He’d said as much while drunk off his ass the night before.

“You don’t have to let me move in, but if you did, we could watch each other’s backs as the world goes to hell.”

Jaxxon sighed.

“All right. We can put all your stock-up food in the basement.”

 

 

WADE STAYED out of the area of the abandoned house that had gotten water damage and was growing mold. He used his phone for light to check all the cupboards, but all he found was a small can of mushrooms, and he wasn’t hungry enough to eat those. There was half a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom, and inspection of an old bed in a tiny room revealed there were no bugs. This was a good place to settle in for the night.

He pulled out his charger and plugged the phone into the wall just in case, but he wasn’t optimistic. Everything came in waves now due to so few people working the energy plants and the abrupt need to cease all carbon fuels. There just wasn’t enough solar and wind to go around, even with so many deaths. And even if he was lucky enough to catch a pocket of electricity, it was likely the connection to this house had been turned off.

Still, he wouldn’t entirely discount it until it happened. He took his shoes off, leaned back on the bed, and thought of Jaxxon. How pissed he would be. Wade doubted Jaxxon would even miss his presence next to him in bed later tonight. But he’d definitely be eating better. Wade debated whether to have his food now or put it off a few hours, ultimately giving in. He pulled a foil packet of tuna out of his bag and tore it open.

His phone buzzed, startling him. His carrier was providing service at the moment and a text had come through. Wade leaned over and grabbed his phone, unsurprised to see the message was from Jaxxon.

Knew you’d leave, it read. Don’t bother coming back.

Wade didn’t bother texting either. He knew he should, to explain himself, apologize, try to make up for the ridiculous argument they’d had, but he knew it would only piss Jaxxon off more. He would have wanted to go with Wade, even though it would mean losing their house. And most importantly Wade didn’t want to get Jaxxon’s hopes up. So he sat back on the bed, sucked at a disgusting packet of tuna, and tried not to think about fighting about Christmas after the Apocalypse.

It seemed half of what they did was argue. The very first thing they’d done was fight, Jaxxon pissed about Wade having chosen plastic bags rather than paper. Jaxxon had carried in no less than eight bags of rice and spice packets at once, only to have several of them rip and spill into the cold slush outside.

“Why don’t you stay inside?” asked Wade when Jaxxon stomped in, swearing. “You can take everything downstairs.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“It was a suggestion,” said Wade. Clearly Jaxxon was still feeling shitty from the night before.

“Don’t make those,” said Jaxxon, following Wade out into the slush as he went to pick up the spilled food. Large, wet flakes fell around them, turning to cold water the moment they landed on exposed faces. “Nice ass.”

Wade held back a comment, instead pulling out the seasoning packets that hadn’t been ruined by the winter slush. Jaxxon could admire his ass all he wanted.

“House rules,” said Jaxxon, crossing his arms against the cold. Wade couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed Wade hadn’t encouraged his ogling, or his ass wasn’t enough to brighten Jaxxon’s mood. Wade tried not to be offended at the second thought.

“Yeah?” he said, passing back the bag of packets and opening another for the rice.

“No shitty plastic bags.”

“Says the guy who doesn’t want me telling him what to do,” said Wade.

Jaxxon flared up.

“You know what? Screw you. I don’t need a roommate.”

“I wasn’t planning on being your roommate,” said Wade, figuring it was best to be upfront about it. The notion shouldn’t have been strange to Jaxxon after everything, but it only seemed to make him angrier.

“I don’t need rebound or pity,” he said, dropping the bag of seasoning packets in the slush. Secretly Wade felt smug he’d picked the plastic. The wetness would have seeped right through paper. Wade couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“Yeah, you’re doing just fine,” he said, picking up the bag Jaxxon had dropped and bringing it inside to get muddy water on the floor. “You told me all about it last night.”

“Fuck you,” said Jaxxon, glaring at Wade’s amusement. “You’re the bartender. That was in confidence.”

“Booze is never in confidence,” said Wade, then thought he should offer something in return. “But I’m willing to drink with you later and give away some of my secrets. Takeout pizza and cheap beer. What d’you think?”

“I think we’re not going to last a year.”

 

 

WADE WOKE drenched in sweat despite the pervasive cold of the abandoned house and shuddered, pulling the blanket he’d found tighter around himself.

“Shit,” he muttered, flicking his eyes around the darkened room. Although it had been moments ago, he couldn’t remember the dream he’d been having. He’d forgotten how terrible he slept without Jaxxon by him, a lump of stability and comfort. And now Wade was alone.

He rolled over, trying to get to sleep again, waking after an hour or so. Not even a year and it was rough to be apart. Hours away, Jaxxon was in bed alone, probably out until midmorning after drinking himself to sleep. Wade knew him well enough to know that.

Jaxxon had been more interested in the fucking at first than any kind of emotional intimacy, which Wade begrudgingly understood. Apart from the night he’d driven Jaxxon home, he was only invited to bed when Jaxxon was horny, and otherwise had to sleep on the couch. The spare bed had been Jaxxon’s daughter Maddy’s and was off-limits.

“Pick up after yourself,” said Jaxxon as he tossed the blanket Wade had been using off the couch to have a seat. They had completely moved Wade out of his apartment a week ago and the new energy restrictions had gone into effect. Globally everything was going to hell so thoroughly nearly every nation had signed on to quit carbon cold turkey, but the lack of appropriate renewables in place resulted in waves of energy being distributed at often enough intervals to keep the house warm and snag some entertainment.

“Yeah, remember we sold my bed for the extra cash?” asked Wade as he brought over a bowl of microwave popcorn. Instead of queuing up a movie, though, Jaxxon started playing porn.

“You said you wouldn’t need it,” said Jaxxon. He pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing an average body Wade always wished he could spend more time on. Wade sighed and set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“I figured we were sharing.”

“I need my space,” said Jaxxon, pulling Wade closer by the hip. Wade kissed him, unzipped his pants. Jaxxon liked starting on oral, and since Wade liked giving, he was always happy to oblige. He trailed a hand down Jaxxon’s chest as he knelt, the porn playing in the background. Jaxxon leaned into him, syncing motions as Wade took him into his mouth.

When Jaxxon was ready, he pulled back. Wade undressed while Jaxxon focused on condom and lube, pushing Wade where he wanted him on the couch.

“Why am I always bottom?” asked Wade.

“It’s been a week, Wade,” said Jaxxon, and eased himself inside. “You said you didn’t care.”

He had. But then, he’d been hoping for something a little more intimate from Jaxxon than this. When he went to touch himself, Jaxxon swatted his hand away and saw to it, something Wade did like about the sex. Jaxxon never made him see to himself. He grabbed up Wade’s discarded boxers and kept them in his hand as he stroked Wade, an action that made the heat rush through Wade’s body. He knew it was to keep him from coming all over the couch, but the idea of soiling his own boxers like this was hot.

Jaxxon came first but didn’t stop riding Wade until he’d also released, and they collapsed on the couch together, the porn suddenly sounding ridiculous now that they were spent. Jaxxon pulled out and switched over to a movie, and they cuddled together while watching it.

Despite times like that, Wade still slept alone on the couch. Until the superbugs arrived.

 

 

“NEVER HEARD of it,” said the old white man behind the wheel.

“It’s sorta in northwestern Wisconsin,” said Wade, not surprised where he was from meant nothing to this man. They had been traveling for hours now, yet it was only recently the old man had gotten bored enough to chat. Stretches of flat Illinois farmland rushed past on either side as they went, overgrown fields and those struggling to grow crops in no discernable pattern.

“Heard it was nicer up there,” said the man. Wade shrugged. No place was nicer, really. Off in the distance, a storm flickered. The air rushing through the open windows smelled charged, dangerous.

“You get much rain?” asked Wade, guessing Jaxxon was hunting in it right now. The old man laughed.

“Lots of lightning, little rain,” he said. “Where you trying to get to?”

“Florida,” said Wade, growing uncomfortable. Most people weren’t so nosy that he’d noticed.

“Isn’t it all ocean now?”

“Not all of it, and I’m not staying,” said Wade. He pulled out his phone, but there were no new texts from Jaxxon. Not that he really expected any.

“Coming back for Christmas, eh?” asked the man, but his face had gotten hard again.

“I don’t think I know anyone celebrating this year,” said Wade, wishing the old man would go back to silence.

“You should. I lost my entire family to the bugs. If you got family left, that’s reason enough to celebrate.”

“We’ll see,” said Wade, the best he could manage. Although the old man thankfully got quiet, it was impossible not to think about the superbugs now. Everything had changed so quickly. The weather out of control, the resistant strains of common illnesses….

The bugs had shown up eventually. Wade had been following the news more closely at work, tracking the government as the presidential position got passed farther and farther down the line, as states began to splinter off and see to their own issues as best as possible. The local news announced the presence of two virulent strains and a checklist of what to do if infected, and Wade poured beer as though nothing was happening.

He’d been living with Jaxxon for over a month at that point and wished Jaxxon would drop by while he was at work. But Jaxxon had lost his job after the president’s assassination and now spent long hours on the few acres of land he owned, hunting. A new system of getting by was growing as more people died and more businesses shut down, leaving behind only the necessities: hospitals, services. Jaxxon got into selling game at the new farmers’ market most days and taking anything extra to the food pantry. Wade wondered what he’d do when the beer ran out.

“Think I’m getting sick,” said Wade one morning when he woke up feeling more like shit than normal. Jaxxon glared at him, but he’d been complaining the day before anyway.

“Great,” said Jaxxon. “I guess I’m driving your ass to the hospital.”

He grabbed his keys but gave Wade a quick kiss that let him know he was at least a little worried.

There was little the doctors could do. Since Wade and Jaxxon had fallen solidly under the category of adults in otherwise good health, they were encouraged to go home, rest, and get plenty of fluids. Jaxxon grumbled about that, about the fact he was halfway through his last tank of gas now and there was nothing more to buy.

“I’ll take care of you. Just leave some canned soup for me,” said Wade.

And he did. Jaxxon’s fever showed up first, leaving Wade to tend to him until he felt too crappy to do much. He started sleeping next to Jaxxon, who didn’t protest, even pulled him closer one morning when they were both feverish. Wade had been about to get up and bring them some water, but instead he relaxed into Jaxxon’s embrace. He’d been hoping for this for too long now.

“Can’t figure out why you haven’t left me yet,” said Jaxxon. He brushed his lips against the back of Wade’s neck.

“You’re all right,” said Wade after a moment, and Jaxxon laughed, really laughed.

“I’ve been a bitter fuck since my wife left, I lost my girl, and the world went to shit.”

“Eh,” said Wade, closing his eyes and focusing on the feel of his skin against Jaxxon’s without the demands of sex. “You give what you don’t need to the food bank. You can’t be that bad.”

Jaxxon chuckled.

“I think my fever’s broken. I guess I’m not going to die after all. I’ll get you some water.”

Wade said nothing as Jaxxon slipped from the bed.

 

 

THE OLD man drove him until it was nearly ten in the evening, dropping him off at a park full of people settling down for the night. Wade thanked him.

“Got nothing else to do with my life,” the old man said. “Everyone else can rebuild, but I’m too old for that now. I try to offer a lift where I can.” He nodded to the park. “Safe enough here.”

Wade dug out a few bills, what he thought he could spare. He had no idea what they would be worth to the old man now that money was fluctuating so wildly in value that no one seemed to think a dollar meant the same thing.

“No really, thanks,” he said. The old man didn’t refuse the money. Wade couldn’t bring himself to tell the man he was trying to build a family again. He didn’t even know whether it was possible, and he was sure putting it to words would somehow sabotage him. He shut the door and walked off to find a spot under an old tree.

Wade had a knife with him but otherwise no other way to defend himself. Jaxxon was the hunter, after all, not him, and while he had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to injure someone intent on doing him harm, he was not a natural when it came to that sort of thing. He was glad the old man had dropped him off someplace relatively safe. Everyone left him alone.

He pulled out his phone and checked again despite not knowing why. Jaxxon wasn’t going to bother to send him another text. Wade scowled. Jaxxon had bothered to call his ex every week, even after he moved on to Wade, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to try to make amends. Of course, Jaxxon would not think the argument was his fault, and Wade was working on something better than an apology.

Still, the second night sleeping apart from Jaxxon was harder than the last, and Wade now hoped Jaxxon was having a hard time of it himself.

They had naturally kept sleeping side-by-side after recovering. Wade had known they both recognized how lucky they were not to die, especially considering their city and county had been hit pretty hard, but neither of them said anything about it.

Jaxxon got more considerate, though, as if weathering the bugs had been the test he needed to accept the new relationship. He smiled more, joked more, let Wade take more of a lead during sex. They tried out a few new positions and chatted more, bonded. Wade stole more kisses. They were approaching real happiness.

“Well, it finally happened,” said Wade one night when he got in from work. Jaxxon rolled over in bed, woke up. He pulled Wade close when he got into bed.

“What?” asked Jaxxon, finishing a yawn before kissing Wade’s neck.

“Laid off. Beer’s too hard to come by now. Owner said he wants to run it himself when he gets some in. I’d wanna do that too if I was him.”

“Oh, I get you to myself more, then,” said Jaxxon. He sounded half-asleep.

“You’re getting romantic.”

“Screw that.”

Jaxxon tugged him closer at night, but Wade heard him talking to the family he’d lost. He would go into Maddy’s old room, sit on her bed, and call Rose every few hours until their waves of coverage overlapped. Sometimes Wade would listen at the door.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Rose. It should be easy to move on after the Apocalypse, right?” A pause, a laugh. “Wouldn’t you want to know.” A pause. “Yeah, I’m obviously happy for you. How is he with Maddy?” Another pause. “I’m not overreacting. Can you put her on?”

Wade tried not to be jealous of the love Jaxxon so clearly had for his daughter when he spoke to her. A child was different than a lover. But still he made sure to never be around when Jaxxon came back out of that room.

 

 

SHITTY FARMLAND seemed to stretch on forever. Wade found himself walking more of it, less people with electric cars out this direction, or at least along the roads he was traveling. None of the fields were fully plowed and few of them looked to be doing well. From everything he knew about this area of the country, periods of drought were often followed by harsh storms.

Police drones zipped by at what he assumed were regular intervals. It was possible that even if he did get Jaxxon to forgive him for everything else, he wouldn’t be able to deal with the sheer number of fines Wade was accumulating traveling. Wade smiled after a moment, laughed to himself.

“Shit,” he’d said when he woke up the morning after losing his job. Jaxxon had made him coffee from their dwindling supply.

“We’ll get through it.”

Wade sat up in bed and took the steaming mug, looked over at Jaxxon. He couldn’t help it. He grinned wryly, searching Jaxxon’s face.

“Promise?” he asked. Jaxxon shrugged.

“Yeah, I promise. Can you hunt?”

“No way,” said Wade.

“It’s going to be difficult to find you something to do, then, isn’t it, softie?” Jaxxon set aside his coffee and leaned closer, warm breath curling over Wade’s neck. The heat began to rise under Wade’s skin. Sex in the morning always led to a good day. He lurched forward and planted his mouth on Jaxxon’s.

This time Jaxxon was tender, slow, as if he knew Wade needed something comforting rather than just release. He clutched Wade to him, sucked him dry, held him as their hearts returned to their normal beats. The coffee had gone cold.

“I guess I could make mead,” said Wade.

“If you can get your hands on honey,” said Jaxxon, rubbing up against Wade’s back like he wanted to go again. “Ever heard of colony collapse?”

“You’re not helping.”

“We’ll find you something. You have a bicycle. Maybe you can be a delivery boy?”

“You really want to go again, don’t you?” asked Wade, wanting to blame his renewed eagerness on Jaxxon.

“I’m being serious,” said Jaxxon, tilting Wade’s head back so that he could speak against the spot under Wade’s ear where jaw met neck. “Come to the farmers’ market with me today. One of the outreach groups is trying to find enough people with electric cars or willing to bike out to homes. Some people are isolated and could use supplies.”

“Do I get paid?” asked Wade, closing his eyes as Jaxxon ran fingers up his neck.

“Everything’s trade. Maybe you can find a beekeeper and get your honey.”

“The real question’s if you can stand me selling the mead once I make it,” said Wade. Jaxxon was pushing his erection up against Wade’s back even more forcefully now, devouring Wade’s neck with his mouth. Wade’s heart danced, his breath came sharp.

“You’re going to have to bargain with me too,” said Jaxxon. “Let me show you how.”

Wade did, telling himself with a perverted sort of pleasure it would come in handy later. Jaxxon rode him harder this time but likewise saw to Wade just as intensely. By the time they were finished the coffee was beyond cold.

Jaxxon drank his in one go and gagged, and Wade decided to pass on his. When he took it back to the kitchen, he saw the light on the microwave was blinking. Power was on, for now at least, and he had a hot cup of coffee after all.

 

 

WADE KNEW he had entered tornado country by the increase of destruction. There seemed to be wider stretches between towns that themselves seemed tinier, rougher. The farmland had for the most part gone to seed, covered in grasses, mullein, and other weeds where it wasn’t rutted and blown away. Debris was everywhere. As he clambered over the twisted remains of several cars on the road, he understood why he’d been unable to hitchhike for hours.

Lightning crackled across the horizon far off and the rumble of thunder rippled toward him. Sometime when he was in Illinois, the rain had completely stopped, and while Wade had first felt relieved, he was now concerned. He had not brought more than a few bottles of water with him, assuming he’d always find a town somewhere when he needed it. As the sky darkened, he was drawn to a nearby smudge of a house.

The place had been hit at least once by a tornado. Wade grimaced as he stepped into the ruined mess, few walls still standing, wood and bits of furniture and other random items scattered everywhere. Everything had been thoroughly picked through from what he could tell, and a pathway had been cleared to the cellar door. He stepped over shards of plates and bowls and yanked open the door to the cellar, nearly blasted back by the smell.

“Damn,” he said, staggering back and gasping. The odor was that of a portable toilet on a hot day, but he moved closer to peer down into the cellar anyway. “Anybody there?”

After receiving no answer, Wade pulled out a flashlight and descended, choking on the air, but the wind had picked up and he feared being caught in a tornado at night. If he had to sleep here, then he would. He just hoped there was a better way back than this. Dragging a kid into all this….

Still, everyone, young and old, had been subjected to some pretty nasty things in recent months, from the superbugs to the collapse of order to disasters like drought and storms. What was a stinky old cellar if it kept a person safe? Wade had grown more comfortable with unpleasant things than he ever expected to. It had been a rough transition, though. At first Jaxxon had laughed at him.

“Washing your hands again?” he asked as Wade scrubbed after pedaling himself home. Wade scowled. He’d gone around with another runner to a few houses, bringing meat and other supplies and trading for eggs and milk. He’d biked through mud and scoured the rest of himself as best he could, but he couldn’t seem to get the grit out from under his fingernails.

“You’re telling me you like getting your hands full of guts,” he said, and Jaxxon only shrugged and grinned. He’d learned to hunt young and apparently had no problem with any aspect of it. Sometimes he teased Wade by threatening to hunt cute rabbits, but he stuck to turkey and deer.

“I like getting my hands full of something,” said Jaxxon, hooking an arm around Wade. When he thrust a towel in Wade’s face, he finally stopped washing. As he dried he wondered how horny Jaxxon was again. “Besides, you’re only going to get muddy again tomorrow.”

“I can’t go to bed filthy.”

Jaxxon’s grin intensified.

“I take that as a challenge.”

Wade rolled his eyes but was excited by the time he followed Jaxxon back to the bedroom.

 

 

“SHIT,” MUTTERED Wade as he stubbed his toe on a hunk of wood. He hadn’t slept well in the cellar and got up early to stumble through the dark to the road. The crumbling asphalt was easy enough to find, but walking it before sunrise was another matter. He moved more slowly after banging up his feet several times.

He’d gotten used to the stale electric smell of the air and wondered why there weren’t more fires in this part of the country. As the sun rose, turning the sky from utter darkness to choppy gray, he began to go through a plan in his mind. He was thirsty and had one full bottle left, so the first stop would be to the nearest town. He could figure out how close he was to Florida from there too. And once in Florida….

Something swirled at the horizon to his left and he turned, his stomach dropping out. Wade knew what the funnel shape meant. He swiveled around, but the nearest shelter was back at the house he’d left. Swallowing back his fear as best he could, he pressed on, keeping the distant tornado in the corner of his eye, turning to look at it now and then. The air felt worse now, but there was nothing Wade could do but keep going.

After about an hour, the thing grew fainter and disappeared, and Wade sat on the least unpleasant-looking chunk of scrap, resting. He had little sips of the water. He wondered about tornadoes, and he wondered about hurricanes. More common now. Deadlier. How did it feel to be caught up in one?

Jaxxon had heard the news first, on the solar-powered radio he kept out in the barn where he strung up the deer. Wade had been washing clothes in the bathtub when Jaxxon burst in, grabbed his phone, and made a call. He paced the hallway with it pressed up against his ear, Wade turning to watch him move back and forth in front of the bathroom door.

“Put me through, dammit,” muttered Jaxxon. “Fuck!” He hung up, dialed again. Repeated this several more times.

“Jaxx,” said Wade. Jaxxon ignored him, swore, dialed again. “Jaxx!” Wade stepped out of the bathroom, grabbed Jaxxon’s shoulders. “Calm down. Who are you calling?”

But Wade had already known. There was only one person Jaxxon called. When their eyes met, Wade’s stomach dropped out.

“There was a hurricane,” said Jaxxon, voice completely flat. “A bad one.”

Wade left him to pace in the hallway and went into the kitchen to pour brandy. They’d stocked up on alcohol not long after Wade moved in but had been rationing it, although if this wasn’t a situation that called for a drink, Wade didn’t know what was. He brought the drinks to the couch and sat.

When Jaxxon stopped pacing, Wade knew the coverage had cut out. The sudden silence was painful, and though he half expected Jaxxon to throw his phone, after a few minutes he appeared at Wade’s side. He accepted the brandy Wade passed him.

“What, no hollow words of hope?” asked Jaxxon after he drained his glass.

“Yeah, ’cause I really wanna promise you that sort of thing,” said Wade. He was glad he’d thought to bring the bottle over with him so he could refill Jaxxon’s glass without having to leave. “I prefer to pour.”

“Rose used to nag me about my feelings on shit like this, when my dad died, at least,” said Jaxxon. He shook his head. “Why the fuck did she go down there?”

Wade didn’t have the answer to that, so he stayed quiet and drank.

“I should have kept Maddy with me,” said Jaxxon. “Her birthday’s next month.”

“There should be a list of names posted on the Internet,” said Wade, knowing stating the obvious was unhelpful but unable to stop himself. “When we get electric back—”

“Screw that,” said Jaxxon, standing and grabbing the bottle of brandy. “They list off the names of the dead on the radio. Come on.”

Wade followed him outside to the barn, taking a seat on an old dirty chair as Jaxxon turned on the radio. He watched, almost unable to believe the world was still going, that he was here with Jaxxon now, carving out some sort of approximation of a life. The Apocalypse had been over half a year ago now, and they were holding on.

Jaxxon sat on the filthy ground right next to the radio as though that would help. Wade wished he had enough brandy to drink for every name the announcer read off, but they were already drunk enough. It took two full hours to get to Rose’s name, and when it was read, Jaxxon groaned.

“Maybe it’s the wrong Rose Matthews,” said Wade, but Jaxxon shook his head.

“The name before hers was her boyfriend. It’s her.”

She was dead. But though they stayed by the radio while the names were read through two more times, Maddy’s name did not come up.

 

 

“IN TOWN for the night?” asked a voice to Wade’s right, and he turned to see an older, brown-skinned woman climbing over a twisted heap of scrap that had to have once been a car of some sort.

“Town?” asked Wade, willing his words to not sound so desperate. He’d finished the last of his water hours ago and was seriously considering the odds he’d be dying somewhere in the middle of nowhere, no one the wiser for it. He hadn’t yet progressed to cursing Jaxxon for his role in it all.

“Yeah, you are,” she said. “Come on. Keep three feet away from me.”

Wade didn’t ask. He didn’t care, really, as long as she knew the way to water. It would be good if the place had food too, since he was running low.

The sky was completely dark when they reached the town, which looked like it hadn’t been all that large before it went to hell. It had seen at least one tornado, and as they walked through it, Wade could make out people, sometimes families, living in various rooms and nooks. The woman led him to a building that somehow still seemed to have a functioning water system and pointed to a jar full of coins and bills.

“How we pay to keep the water running,” she said, and Wade added a couple bills before filling up his bottles.

“Where can I sleep?” he asked. She shrugged.

“Have any food?”

Wade held back a sigh and gave her a packet of peanut butter crackers. She pointed him in the direction of what she claimed was the safer section of the town and went back home with whatever she had salvaged off the debris in the road. Wade found what looked like a secure enough place and settled down, thinking about survival.

He’d had to cut Jaxxon off or he would have drunk the entire bottle of brandy the night they’d heard Rose was dead. Wade half carried him to bed too, Jaxxon stumbling in Wade’s arms into the house and back to the bedroom. Wade stripped off Jaxxon’s wet clothes and rolled him into bed. He stayed up until the pockets of services aligned and he could get on the Internet.

“That wasn’t all a nightmare, was it?” asked Jaxxon when he finally woke the next day. He groaned, hungover, but rolled over in bed to accept the mint tea Wade had made him. Coffee was for special occasions only now, but mint grew like weeds in all the rain.

“Rose is really dead,” said Wade. He slid into bed and wrapped an arm around Jaxxon. “I waited for the Internet and checked. She was at work. I can’t find any information about Maddy. I checked Rose’s relatives—also listed as dead.”

Jaxxon said nothing for a while, then drank his tea completely and set the empty mug aside. Wade assumed he was in shock.

“Maddy’s still down there,” said Jaxxon at last.

“Jaxx….”

“Did you charge my phone?” asked Jaxxon, struggling out of Wade’s embrace and then out of bed. Wade sighed, followed him to the bathroom, and leaned against the doorframe.

“Yes,” he said. “But you should take it easy today.”

“Screw that,” said Jaxxon, finishing up and grabbing a pair of boxers on his way out of the bedroom. He then proceeded to spend the entire day calling around to hospitals, to emergency centers, to Maddy’s daycare, searching for her. Wade let him be.

He let Jaxxon be the next day too, and the day after that, and again, until Wade woke one morning to a knock on the door from a neighbor who also brought products to the farmers’ market, chickens and eggs, mainly, and herbs.

“He’s not dead, is he?” she asked. Wade swallowed. Everyone he knew had grown too comfortable with death. He hesitated.

“No. I—the hurricane cut off contact with his daughter.”

“Hurricane?” asked the neighbor, but she didn’t look remotely interested. Wade sighed.

“I’ll get him back to hunting.”

“Right, well, tell him Jeff down at the food pantry says it’s fine at the moment, harvest is coming in, but if he’s not going to be able to provide long-term, Jeff’s going to have to train one of the kids, and he’d rather start that now.”

“Jeff’s asking about you,” said Wade, returning to bed. He wondered whether there was time for sex before kicking Jaxxon’s ass out of bed and getting him back to work. But Jaxxon rolled over, and when Wade touched him, he was tense.

“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” he asked. No place had indicated they knew anything about Maddy, and yet Wade couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered instead, and Jaxxon pushed Wade’s hand away.

 

 

LIGHTS, NOISE, shouts. Wade woke confused, drones buzzing through the air above him, whirling red-and-blue lights around him. For a moment he thought he’d overslept and it was Christmas, and then his senses came to him.

“Hands up,” voices were saying. Cybernetically enhanced police enforcement swarmed the town, lights flashing on their helmets. They were well armed. People churned around them, running away or seeking cover. Someone stood up and shouted.

“Go away! We don’t need you here!”

“Reports of drugs through here,” said an enhanced cop, voice projector making their words sound gravelly and mechanical. Wade shuddered. When did this become normal? He’d forgotten. It had just happened. And there were far fewer of them back home in Wisconsin.

Wade collected his things, conscious of the drones zipping around, circling the town from above. Logically he knew he couldn’t just run off. They had heat sensors—the cops did too—and the drones could shoot him down. But he didn’t want to stick around for whatever was going to happen here, not when he could see a cybernetically enhanced cop ripping apart what remained of a building to get at a person. Wade’s mind didn’t allow him to use logic. He ran.

He was almost surprised when the drone that followed him peeled off and returned to the town rather than cut him down, but not by much. Fractured government using drones that could scan and identify a person also knew a thing or two about you, and Wade was guilty of walking along the interstate, not anything associated with this town. He only stopped running when the fear passed, and then the guilt took over, but he shook his head. If he had stayed, he couldn’t have done anything anyway.

That feeling of being unable to do anything was a detestable one.

He hadn’t truly felt it until he’d been with Jaxxon, and he’d thought he’d felt it when the superbugs arrived, when what remained of the Wisconsin government passed new laws and cracked down on them. But no. Real helplessness was seeing the man he cared about completely eaten up by the loss of his daughter, by not knowing. Wade hadn’t been able to stand it.

“Think you can get any bills for these?” Jaxxon would ask, bringing him shit he’d pulled out of his car, or old expired pills, or extra spoons and other utensils from the kitchen. Wade tried to be patient.

“Doubt it,” he said. “And I don’t make good bargains anyway, Jaxx, you know that.”

“You know anyone who’ll pay me to help them in the garden or hauling shit?”

“Not for bills,” said Wade, focusing on stirring his mead. He’d gotten his hands on a small supply of honey and was fermenting it the old-fashioned way, water and honey and air, a clean bucket. He had a large glass jug and airlock for later. When he looked up at Jaxxon he saw a man so confused, so broken, that he stopped what he was doing and pulled him closer. “Hey,” he said. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

Jaxxon pulled away, looking angry.

“I’m going to need the money. We’re going to need it.”

Jaxxon didn’t say why and Wade didn’t ask, but he knew. Jaxxon grew distant, kept scrounging for things to trade. He began bringing home more paper money for meat than other items, and Wade had to scrape together eggs for the week or other supplies more often than not.

“Those done?” asked Jaxxon as Wade was pouring his mead into old clean wine bottles. Wade nearly spilled the alcohol all over, startled.

“Yeah,” he said, then, “You need to get laid.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and I’m on edge. We haven’t since the hurricane.”

Jaxxon ignored him, instead picking up a screw cap and twisting it on a full bottle.

“You’re fine figuring it out alone.”

“Yeah, but I like fucking you.” Wade filled four and a half bottles and went to check on his second batch of mead. Jaxxon trailed him, gaze wandering around the basement. “That was almost two months ago.”

“How good is this mead?”

“We’ll share the half bottle tonight,” said Wade, deciding his second batch could stand to ferment a while longer. When he turned back to Jaxxon he saw him frowning at the bottles. “What?”

“Or we could sell it with the rest. Half-price.”

“Well, I wanna try it,” said Wade. “Let me honey wine you and dine you.”

“You could get cash for these. Everyone likes alcohol.”

Wade frowned at Jaxxon, who was pointedly ignoring him. At first Wade had been all right leaving Jaxxon be, allowing him to work through his grief, but after so many weeks he just wanted to get naked with him again and get off, hard.

“You’d sell everything we have,” said Wade. He took the half bottle from Jaxxon and set it aside, pulled Jaxxon to him. Wade’s kiss was not returned. “Jaxx. We have to keep going.”

“With enough money we can get down there,” said Jaxxon. He glanced at the mead, as though that could make them rich. Wade almost laughed in his face.

“You want to move to Florida.”

“They never found her body.”

“They never found her alive either,” said Wade, releasing Jaxxon. He was frustrated. Jaxxon called every week, searching, finding nothing. “You have to let her go.”

“Maddy’s still down there, Wade,” said Jaxxon, words firm. Wade gaped at him. All this time he’d thought Jaxxon had been working through his loss, and instead he’d been plotting.

“You can’t just move all our shit across the country anymore.”

“Why not? Rose did it. We just need the money for—”

“For what, Jaxx? Have you seen a big electric-powered moving van anywhere? Because that’s what we’d need. And we’d have to pray that the roads would be clear and we could buy a charge every time we needed it. Have you researched the laws here or there? Do we have to pay a fee to be allowed to live there? States have been passing weird shit.”

Jaxxon stared at him blankly.

“Rose did it,” he said, as though undoing it would be so simple. Wade wanted to scream at him but forced himself to pull Jaxxon close instead.

“That was ages ago,” he whispered into Jaxxon’s ear. He tried to not feel sick that only nine, ten months ago constituted ages. Jaxxon pulled away.

“She can’t be dead,” he said, but his voice was hollow.

 

 

HE MOSTLY stayed away from little towns after that. If he needed water, if he met someone friendly, Wade would go in and refill, but he slept away from groups of people. It felt safer. He’d heard some people died in that raid. He’d heard no drugs were found. He didn’t want to hear any more tales of woe, not when he dreaded what he’d find when he finally got to Florida.

Some of the roads got clearer. Wade bummed a ride, and another, and another, until he was finally passing the border into Florida in a car with a mother and her two kids. They were black and he couldn’t imagine why they felt safe picking him up, but he gave them his last packet of gummy bears.

“Where are you headed?” the woman asked when he got out.

“Looking for hurricane refugees,” he said, and trudged off in the direction she pointed as she drove away. Pressing on. He’d been doing that from the start. Going through the motions that needed doing for survival, continuing on. He’d been wanting to change that with Jaxxon, turn what they had into something more than just scraping together the will to keep going after the Apocalypse, but after the hurricane, the promise of anything more was just pain to Jaxxon.

They’d had sex again after a while, of course. Wade eventually initiated, starting with kissing long, deep, gently, harshly, until he found what Jaxxon responded to. They’d had the mead after all, after Jaxxon gave the what-the-hell go-ahead. Wade was reminded of the night he’d driven Jaxxon home, so distant now it could have happened generations ago.

The mead tasted good on Jaxxon’s lips, sweet still from the honey, but it had been strong enough to get a buzz. Wade felt calm as he pulled off Jaxxon’s clothes, slowly, then his own. He pushed Jaxxon to the bed and straddled him, kissing still, enjoying the feel of Jaxxon’s hands as he grabbed Wade’s ass, tenderly at first, then greedily. Jaxxon thrust himself up so Wade could feel him pressing against his ass.

“You want it over fast?” asked Wade, interpreting Jaxxon’s motions as impatience.

“I want something normal,” he said, and shifted position. When Jaxxon took Wade into his mouth, tugged and rolled Wade’s balls, he didn’t argue. He didn’t try to draw it out either, letting Jaxxon work his magic until Wade couldn’t hold it in any longer and came, gasping, kneeling on the bed.

Immediately Jaxxon rolled him onto his back and reached for the lube. They’d run out of condoms a while back and, when they hadn’t been able to find any anywhere, gave up. It wasn’t safe, but nothing was safe any longer. Wade had decided he had to simply trust that Jaxxon would have told him if he wasn’t clean.

Jaxxon was surprisingly gentle, running his hands along Wade’s sweaty skin in a caress before pulling him down on his cock. Wade relaxed, allowed himself to enjoy Jaxxon’s motions, the feel of him inside. From his position on his back, he could watch Jaxxon’s expression as he came, and despite everything, the rough time they’d been having, he realized he felt closer to this man than he had with anyone before. They had something more than intimacy. They had survival.

 

 

WADE DIDN’T know which town he started at, but at some point he began asking after Maddy. People shook their heads at him mainly, having heard his sad story over and over again from everyone they’d met. Everyone had lost someone, and who wasn’t looking for hope in someplace like this?

The weather was hot, even in mid-December, and Wade drank all the water he could get his hands on, prayed every time he took a piss behind a building a drone wouldn’t catch him at it. He’d been warned by residents that Florida was very strict on that sort of thing. They would tell him they’d never seen Maddy before, wish him luck, and give him a tip on how to not get himself arrested or shot, and at night Wade found himself trying to remember how life was before all this.

He finally got the courage to ask a cop. With their vast array of data and facial recognition abilities, Wade hoped the picture of Maddy he had would be enough information to go on, even if it was outdated by over a year.

“Hey,” he said, waving one down along a patrol. The cybernetically enhanced police officer moved over, helmet down, and Wade wished he could believe the person inside the suit was still human.

“Yes,” said the voice, gritty, unreal. “Do you have an incident to report?”

“No,” said Wade, pulling out Maddy’s picture. “I’m looking for this girl. Do you have any idea where she—”

He stopped as the cop turned from him and went about normal business. Too many people probably asked for help finding someone. Wade wasn’t surprised he wasn’t going to get help here, but he didn’t have to be pleased about it. He swore under his breath.

The cop turned back.

“Turner, Wade P.,” said the enhanced officer, and Wade froze. His brain screamed he should run. “Thirty-five years. Former bartender. 8801 West Badgertree—”

Wade’s feet caught up with his brain and he bolted. Whatever that was, it wasn’t good. For a terrifying moment he thought the cop would simply shoot him down—he’d been cautioned about that too—but apparently he wasn’t interesting enough because, when he finally stopped running and turned around, he was alone.

Panting, he flopped down in the shade of a building to stop the world from spinning. He could stand to drink more water. He could stand to eat something. He was shaken from the thought the cop had been accessing his information, including Jaxxon’s home address, indicating everything about him was up-to-date. Somewhere locked up in the police force was enough information about Maddy for Wade to find out what happened to her.

Damn, he was hungry.

He rummaged through what was left of his food but didn’t want to eat any of it yet, considering how hard he’d found it to come by. It was easier to buy a meal at a shitty café in a town than to find items he could haul around without them going bad. Getting to his feet, Wade moved off in search of shelter instead, trying not to think about his hunger.

Food. By the time November had come around, everything was harvested and put up, and the people who knew how to can traded with people like Jaxxon who could get meat. Somehow deer still thrived despite everything, and the main worry was keeping it good long enough in a refrigerator that only got jolts of electricity.

Wade had begun selling his mead, for bills as Jaxxon wanted, although when he noticed Jaxxon was also selling them he made it a point to hide a few bottles. He wanted them to have something to drink for Christmas, Thanksgiving.

“Nobody’s having Thanksgiving this year,” said Jaxxon when Wade wondered aloud what they’d cook. “It’s too depressing. There won’t be enough food to last if we eat everything now.”

“Not even a community dinner?” asked Wade, shocked. “Some of our food will go bad if we don’t eat it.”

But everyone he asked seemed to be skipping it this year as well. Too many families had been torn apart. It was so much work and nobody quite knew how long the harvest would last. Being the first since the Apocalypse, people would rather be secure than hungry. Wade had been reluctant about that.

“So we’ll just cook a whole turkey,” he’d said, and watched Jaxxon roll his eyes. “We’ll eat the extra corn that no one knows what to do with, crack a few black walnuts, and have a whole turkey.”

“I’m not shooting a turkey for that,” said Jaxxon. “And you have fun cracking those black walnuts.”

“We’re alive. Isn’t that something to celebrate?”

“Not going into winter, it’s not,” said Jaxxon, checking his phone. Wade knew he still hoped for that one call that would reveal Maddy was alive and well and wanting to come home. But that call never came.

“Look, Jaxx,” said Wade, moving to sit next to him on the couch. He put a hand on Jaxxon’s thigh, gave a little squeeze. “I think it would be good to celebrate a little. For everyone. Appreciate what we have instead of dwell on the past.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” said Jaxxon, shoving Wade’s hand away. “My daughter’s out there somewhere, alone and scared, and you’re telling me I’m dwelling. You bastard.”

Wade winced. Jaxxon stood up and turned a glare on Wade, daring him to continue. Wade sighed, deflated on the couch. Sometimes he wished Jaxxon would just get it over with and cry, let it all out so he could move on.

“Come on,” he said, unable to glare back at Jaxxon. “You don’t think she’s alive or you’d be looking for her now.”

Jaxxon went completely pale, too shaken to even argue, and Wade felt like shit. He swallowed.

“I’m saying we could all use something to get our minds off everything, and a Thanksgiving meal’s good for that. Talk about what we’ve accomplished despite the Apocalypse. Encourage each other. Give ourselves a little hope.”

Wade watched as Jaxxon snapped out of whatever numb state he’d been in.

“Fuck your hope,” he said, and slammed the door behind him when he went out to the barn.

 

 

BY MORNING Wade knew he had to get food. He was weak and shaking, and after having run from the cop he wasn’t entirely sure where he was any longer. He wandered down a few streets, looking for a café where he could buy a sandwich and ask for directions. Everything was water damaged here, some deserted buildings stained or growing things Wade didn’t want to think too much about. He was getting close to the sea, the new shoreline. People were going to start telling him he would run out of Florida.

He took a seat at an outdoor table at a café that looked fairly well kept up, considering the circumstances. An assortment of other people were hanging around, playing cards or eating. A young white man in his early twenties approached him with a wary look and Wade realized he stood out as not a local.

“Hey,” he said. “Got anything to eat?”

“Got cash?”

Wade nodded slightly, unsure how concerned he should be. A few of the card players had stopped and were watching him. He thought of the knife at the bottom of his belongings, at how useless it was to him there.

“You want everything eggs or half-everything eggs?” asked the man. Everything eggs, Wade had learned while traveling, were common as hell and consisted of everything edible a person had cooked up in eggs. He moved to pull out Maddy’s picture.

“Everything. You seen this girl?”

The man squinted at the picture a moment, then turned and walked back into the café. Wade slouched back, disappointed, but then he wasn’t surprised. In the hellscape leftover from the Apocalypse, who really was going to notice an eleven-year-old little girl?

“Let me see,” said one of the card players, and Wade, mildly surprised by their offer, handed the picture over so they could pass it around. Heads were shaken and Wade received the picture back.

“Thanks,” he said, trying to relax a little, trying to not worry. He was running out of Florida. And how thoroughly was he able to look, anyway? He was one man. He’d never even met Maddy before. Wade swallowed, tried not to think about how futile this entire thing was, how he’d thrown away the longest relationship he’d ever had because of a Christmas argument.

It would have blown over. It had to have blown over. But if Jaxxon had been uncomfortable celebrating Thanksgiving, he was pissed at even the mention of doing anything for Christmas. Wade had tried. Sleet falling from the dark sky one early December night, Wade had broached the subject.

“What about a turkey for Christmas?” he asked. Jaxxon was on the couch, reading a book from the library he’d picked up after bringing his deer meat to the farmers’ market. The old librarian still donated her time and spent long hours in the building, trying to make it run as smoothly as possible now that electronic entertainment was harder to come by.

“No,” said Jaxxon, voice so hard and low that Wade should have left it there. Instead he pulled on another sweater and brought Jaxxon a blanket. Waiting for the heat to kick on was never fun.

“Thanksgiving was a minor holiday, yeah, but some cheer in the middle of all this slush and shit would do us some good.” He paused, offered a bitter grin. “We’ll open a bottle of mead and you’ll loosen up enough to have a good fuck with me again.”

“Sold it,” said Jaxxon, turning the page of his book.

“What, all of it?” asked Wade, thinking of his new batch. He’d wanted to save it for a special occasion; he’d come into a few cranberries and had added them to the fermentation. He’d hidden a bottle in case Jaxxon did just this, but he was dismayed nevertheless.

“Yeah. Got a good price for something a little more unusual.”

“I should be pissed at you,” said Wade, shoving Jaxxon’s feet over and sitting down.

“You sound pissed already,” said Jaxxon. “The money’s more use to us anyway.”

“Yeah, except that was your Christmas present.” Wade was now seriously considering withholding the bottle he’d saved. It would serve Jaxxon right. But he only seemed peeved with that. Wade watched him frown behind his book, then stick a piece of paper as a placeholder in it and set it on the floor.

“I’m not getting you anything.”

For some reason, that stung. Wade had the immediate urge to lash out.

“Of course not. You’re the most selfish person I know.” When Jaxxon blinked at that, surprised, Wade kept going. “I’ve been patient with you for months, Jaxx, and time and again you shit on me. I don’t care that you don’t want to celebrate. I do. And that should be good enough for you.”

“What are you, a kid?” asked Jaxxon, glaring now. “How can you care about holidays in this hellscape?”

“What else do we have but each other?” All Wade’s muscles were so tense that he was sure he was about to start shaking. He didn’t understand why he was being so emotional about this. But he wanted to be far closer to Jaxxon than he’d been allowed to get, and it was beginning to wear on him.

Jaxxon snorted.

“You know,” said Wade, “you wanting something has always been enough for me.”

“You’re asking me to pretend everything over the last year never happened,” said Jaxxon, and that stung most of all. Wade stood.

“Me included?” he asked. “I’m not asking you to throw your life away. I’m asking you to be happy to be with me.”

In the silence between them Wade could hear the heat finally kicking on. After what had to be forever, Jaxxon’s face softened slightly and he looked away. Wade knew it was never good when he couldn’t make eye contact.

“That’s not going to happen,” said Jaxxon.

 

 

THE WAITER must have also been the chef. He returned with a plate full of eggs and set them down on the table before wiping his hands with the rag he’d used to hold the warm ceramic. Wade could see bits of bell pepper and onion in the mix and smell fish and garlic. He definitely had been given everything.

“Show me the picture again,” the man said as Wade took a bite. He’d had worse everything eggs before. The waiter stared at the picture again when Wade shoved it at him.

“Well?” he asked.

“Nice girl,” said the waiter, and Wade’s temper flared.

“That’s my daughter,” he said, the first thing that came to his lips. He wondered at what point Maddy had become that—more than just Jaxxon’s kid. The waiter let the photo fall to the table and shrugged.

“Didn’t mean anything by it. I think she’s a neighbor kid. I seen her around, is all. Nice girl.”

Wade stopped midchew, processing.

“You’ve seen Maddy?” he asked.

“Finish your eggs and I’ll take you over,” said the waiter. “It’s only a few blocks away.”

Wade had never eaten so fast in his life, though he suddenly felt on the verge of vomiting. His mind raced so fast it nearly went numb. The waiter left him alone to his thoughts and instead wandered over to the card players, who apparently were regulars, to ask them to keep an eye on the café while he was away.

Maddy could still be alive. Wade hadn’t really believed it, but then had found himself hoping more and more as the days went by that it would be case. Against all logic he wanted it to be the case. And now…. He tried to tell himself to slow down eating or he really would be sick. He told himself to stay calm because nerves wouldn’t help, and it was possible the kid the waiter thought was Maddy wasn’t even. But all too fast he found himself paying the man for the meal, tipping generously, and then following him down the hot, crumbling streets. His mind raced, taking him back to the night he decided to leave.

Jaxxon’s words had stung so deeply that it had been Wade who left, Wade who ran out through the freezing sleet, Wade who took refuge in the barn. He shut the door against the storm and glared around the place, hulking shadows of old machinery, pieces of wood, and strung-up meat looming above and around him. Wade slid, back to the door, to the cold, wet ground, buried his face in his hands, and held back tears.

The words had struck him deep. Jaxxon not being happy with him meant Jaxxon did not love him. And Wade couldn’t remember when he had ever needed love and companionship more than now, when the world was going to hell, in the aftermath of the Apocalypse with no certainty in the coming days. He wanted an equal, a partner, a life love. He wanted Jaxxon.

And Jaxxon didn’t want him.

He was so hung up on what and who he lost that he couldn’t move on. There were times when he could be so loving, so caring to Wade, and yet… Wade wished Jaxxon was inside their now-heated house, feeling guilty, but he’d probably pushed that aside in favor of reading his book. Wade took a breath. Well, he wasn’t going to give Jaxxon the satisfaction of watching him limp inside, wet and glum and freezing, and he wasn’t going to give Jaxxon an apology.

What he was going to do was fix this. Wade knew somewhere inside Jaxxon wanted to be with him—his actions spoke that, hell, his words even did now and then. Wade had to find a way to help Jaxxon grieve and let go, look ahead for a change. And the only way he could think to do that was to find closure about Maddy.

Wade turned it around and around in his head for hours. Calling down to Florida didn’t work. They couldn’t both leave the house—it was in good condition and it would definitely be occupied when they returned. Besides that, Wade didn’t think Jaxxon was in a state of mind to go anywhere in search of his daughter. He’d do something stupid and get himself killed.

No, by the time Jaxxon had shut off all the lights in the house and gone to bed, Wade had made up his mind. He was going to Florida by himself, and he was going to bring back closure for Jaxxon. And so after waiting until he knew Jaxxon would be asleep, Wade returned home, dug out Jaxxon’s stash of bills, packed a bag with portable food, grabbed a few bottles of water, and sneaked into the off-limits room for a picture of Maddy.

And then he was off into the night, alone.

 

 

SHE WAS walking along the street in dirty clothes. Wade recognized her right away, a year older than in the picture, but the same child. Even without the picture he would have known. She had Jaxxon’s eyes, nose. Seeing him in her made his heart lurch. He could do this. He could reunite a family, create a new one. It was what they all needed to move forward.

Maddy looked up and her eyes caught the waiter, whom she obviously knew, and then Wade, whom she stared blankly at. She didn’t recognize him—but why would she? They had never met. Wade would have to hope she could figure out who he was by his name. A little eleven-year-old girl. Since when did they start looking like they had the weight of the world tangled in their hair?

“What?” asked Maddy when she realized they were here for her. The same confrontation as Jaxxon. A little of something else Wade couldn’t place. As much as she reminded him of the man he left behind, Maddy was her own person.

“Your dad’s here,” said the waiter, and Wade tried not to panic. He had to be looking suspicious if presumably his own child didn’t recognize him. He took a few jerky steps forward like he didn’t know how to react after all this time, and decided to drop his name.

“It’s Wade,” he said. “I can’t believe I found you.”

To her credit, Maddy was the coolest child Wade had ever met. She stared at him with her own kind of wide-eyed disbelief, playing along though she clearly had no clue who he was.

“Mom’s dead,” she said. Wade swallowed.

“I know,” he said quietly. The waiter shuffled on his feet as though uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” he said, apparently convinced enough Wade had been telling the truth. That or he didn’t much care what happened to Maddy. Wade had noticed that while a lot of people had really pulled together to look out for each other after the Apocalypse, not everyone had.

Both he and Maddy waited for the man to leave.

“Who are you?” she asked when they were alone. “What do you want?”

She stayed out of reach, her posture tense like she was ready to run if Wade made any sudden movements. A jolt of sadness struck him. Maddy was already hardened in just a few short months. He didn’t want to know everything she’d been through, had to deal with. A hurricane. Having to look out for herself.

Wade sank to the ground, took his bag off, and swung it around in front of him like a barrier. The water bottles tied to the outside clinked together and Maddy’s eyes were drawn to them. Wade hoped he was making her feel comfortable. He kept his hands where she could see them.

“I’m Wade,” he said. “Your dad’s boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t have a boyfriend,” said Maddy immediately, but she was eyeing the water bottles again. “He doesn’t have anyone.”

Wade didn’t know what to say. If Maddy didn’t know who he was, he had no idea how to convince her to come back to Wisconsin with him.

“Nobody told you about me?” he asked. All those hours Jaxxon had spent on the phone and he’d never once mentioned Wade. That was like another knife in Wade’s heart. He hadn’t been important enough to share. Maybe when this was all over he should try to move on after all. Maybe Jaxxon was just not capable of loving him.

Maddy gave a stiff shrug.

“Mom,” she said, then paused, rubbed at her nose, “said he was hiding his new girlfriend from her. Typical Dad, she said.”

“He misses you a lot,” said Wade, then kicked himself. He shouldn’t be trying to emotionally manipulate a child. Maddy’s bottom lip trembled.

“Did you kill him?” she asked, and Wade was so taken aback, so horrified this would be something she’d think, that he gaped at her.

“No,” he said when he got his voice back. “I love him. I want to get you back to Wisconsin, back home. But I don’t know how you can trust me.”

Maddy’s face hardened and something glinted in her eyes. For a second Wade saw Jaxxon in her again.

“Prove it,” she said. “Prove he’s alive.”

Wade was taken aback again. She didn’t doubt who he was, she didn’t doubt he knew who her father was—she doubted he was alive. This seemed strange to him.

“Why… do you even believe who I am?” he asked before he could stop himself. This was probably not the way to deal with a child. But then, Wade hadn’t had much experience with children. Maddy raised a hand and pointed to the water bottles on his bag.

“I gave him the green one. I put the star stickers on it,” she said. “So you killed him, I guess, or are his boyfriend.”

Wade went fumbling in his bag for his phone. At some point he’d stopped checking it; there hadn’t been any point. He pulled it out now only to find it had lost all charge. He couldn’t even try to call Jaxxon. Not that there was a guarantee Jaxxon would even pick up. Wade had left without saying anything and taken all of the money, and he doubted Jaxxon would be very inclined to talk to him after nearly two weeks without contact.

“No charge,” he said, returning it, and looked up. “I’m sorry, Maddy. I guess I don’t have any way of proving I didn’t kill him. It’s up to you if you want to trust me or not.”

He sat there, waiting, as an eleven-year-old decided the entire futures of three people.

 

 

THEY HITCHHIKED out of Florida and through Georgia, Wade barely believing this was happening, that he’d found Maddy alive and mostly well, and they were on their way back. They wouldn’t make Wisconsin by Christmas, he didn’t think, but maybe by New Year’s, if they were lucky.

Maddy had few belongings. She didn’t explain anything about the hurricane or how she’d been living since then, but after she had nodded, decided she wanted to go back to Wisconsin with Wade, she’d led him to where she’d been sleeping in an alley and unearthed her possessions. A recycled half-gallon jug that used to hold milk now full of water. A box of crackers and a packet of salsa seasoning. A kid backpack with a couple of dirty changes of clothes, a couple of books, and a few other odds and ends, nothing particularly useful.

They had walked quietly to the road. Wade was very careful not to get too close, to let Maddy come to him, but she seemed content to keep her distance, and she seemed content to stay quiet as the miles rolled by outside the car. So like Jaxxon in that. He didn’t push her, didn’t try to get her to talk. At night she would read one of her books and then say good night, and Wade would try not to spend hours staring sadly at her. To be a child here, now, after the Apocalypse, seemed the worst.

“He kept your room the way it was,” said Wade while they were walking the road, waiting for a passing car. “I’m guessing you’ll want to sleep in a real bed again.”

Maddy shrugged.

“Why didn’t he come?” she asked, and Wade had no answer for that, at least none he could tell a child.

“He’s waiting for you,” he said instead. “He hunts every day now and lots of people depend on him for food. We’ll cook you a hot meal. How do you feel about venison?”

“Mom never liked hunting,” said Maddy. “You don’t yell at each other about it, right?”

“Of course not,” said Wade, telling himself he wasn’t lying to her. After he reunited father with daughter, he’d take whatever Jaxxon would allow and leave. He wasn’t yet sure where he’d go, but there were a lot of empty homes that needed only a few minor repairs and a call to the electric company to be useable again. Maybe he’d even pick up and move on entirely. He had better odds of finding a relationship in a bigger city anyway, if that’s what he was looking for.

But he wasn’t sure it was. He hadn’t particularly been looking for anything serious before Jaxxon. And he wasn’t sure he could put him from his mind so easily. He hated himself for it, but he was in love. He almost laughed at himself. Of course he was. Who else would travel across the country looking for someone believed dead if not a man in love? He’d put himself in danger too much. Love or not, he couldn’t stand living the rest of his life with Jaxxon unwilling to return the feeling. Wade would rather watch him from a distance.

He doubted it would be all that hard to do.

 

 

WADE STILL refused to sleep in towns, not even if they seemed to hit it off with the people there. Maddy sulked about this but didn’t care to be too far away from him, so she went with him. Wade discovered he was relieved to see she trusted him enough to prefer sleeping near him than huddled up against the wall of an old building.

He was also relieved people became more generous; he was nearly out of money now, and some days he skipped eating so he would know Maddy had a meal, even if it was a shitty one. Many of the towns were kind enough to donate from their stockpiles without expecting anything in return, and Wade was relieved. He was tired and just wanted to be home again.

“Thanks,” he said at a particularly generous town. The people there had given him and Maddy enough food to last both of them two, maybe three days, and expected nothing in return.

“You ought to get where you’re going by the New Year,” said the woman who gave them the packets of Spam and fruit cups.

“We’re going home,” said Maddy when they accepted the communal stew this tiny town cooked in the evening. “Thanks.”

“Good,” said someone else. “You should be home for the holidays.”

“We’re not going to get back to Wisconsin before Christmas,” said Wade. “And I didn’t think anyone was celebrating.”

“Not Christmas. New Year’s.”

“New New Year’s,” said someone, and everyone laughed. Even Maddy cracked a smile.

The idea seemed to come up at more than one place too, Wade noticed. Everywhere they traveled, people seemed keen to finally celebrate. But they weren’t planning on marking any of the usual dates. No, the consensus seemed to be the third of January was the day to relax and eat. The day that marked the beginning of the Apocalypse. The day that meant everyone had survived a year.

“Are we going to do something for New New Year’s?” asked Maddy as they clambered over an old car in the middle of the road.

“Jaxx—your dad and I haven’t discussed it,” said Wade, hoping Jaxxon would have the sense to at least do something with his daughter to mark a year’s worth of survival. Maddy had done a lot of it on her own too; Jaxxon ought to be proud. His kid was tough and resilient, and Wade almost wished he could be part of their family unit despite having thoroughly convinced himself leaving was the right decision after everything.

“Is Trevor still there?”

Wade hesitated. He didn’t know anything about Maddy’s old friends.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“If Dad hunts, what do you do?”

“I run errands on my bicycle and make mead,” said Wade. He answered her questions as best he could. Maddy was definitely more talkative than her father, although much like him she didn’t seem to want to discuss herself. Wade felt a little more relaxed around her, like he wasn’t going to scare her, and she seemed to be growing more comfortable with him too. He hoped she wouldn’t hate him for leaving the moment they got back. She deserved the time with her father anyway.

 

 

“WOW,” SAID Wade, surprised when he plugged his phone into the wall and started getting a charge. They had made it all the way back to southern Wisconsin before they found someplace with one they could use. Another abandoned building, this time an old office, apparently hadn’t had its electric shut off yet.

“Hey, come here, look,” said Maddy, and Wade moved out to the reception area where a very old instant coffeemaker still stood. Maddy was grinning, holding a mostly empty box of single-serve coffee cups. Wade didn’t for a moment question giving an eleven-year-old coffee. It was hot, it was winter, and it was practically a miracle.

While it brewed they scavenged the rest of the office, coming up with a little 100-calorie pack of cookies that seemed ridiculous now, an unopened can of soda, four cups of tapioca pudding, and a whole sleeve of crackers. Wade could barely believe no one had beaten them to this. But then, the office was out of the way and inconvenient to get to. What had seemed to be a good location for staying safe for the night also provided a little something else.

He and Maddy sat down to a feast: hot coffee, the last of the Spam he’d been saving on crackers, a whole pudding each, and the little packet of cookies. Wade figured he’d keep the can of soda for Maddy to have something to drink to celebrate New Year’s, and they could have the rest of the pudding and more coffee when they woke up in the morning. It would be strange to have breakfast again.

“When my phone’s charged, you wanna call your dad?” asked Wade. “I can’t promise he’ll answer, but you can leave him a message.”

“Why won’t he answer?” asked Maddy, making a Spam sandwich out of two crackers and a little square of the stuff. “He knows you.”

Wade drank the rest of his coffee, debating how to answer this. Maddy didn’t need to know how he and Jaxxon argued, didn’t need to know that they weren’t actually speaking. That would probably only upset and confuse her anyway, and Wade didn’t want to have to deal with her trying to get home alone without him if she didn’t want to travel together anymore.

“He doesn’t know I went to look for you,” he said at last.

“So me coming home is a surprise.”

Wade nodded.

“Then no, I don’t want to call him,” said Maddy. “I want to surprise him.”

“Your call will definitely be a surprise,” said Wade, now wondering whether that would be better. Jaxxon might be less pissed at him. No, that was probably not possible. And what did a day or two matter anyway? He gave in.

“All right,” he said. “But when we get to the house, I’m the one knocking.”

“Deal,” said Maddy, and took one of his crackers. Wade let her have it.

 

 

WADE WAS shaking with nerves as they trudged through the snow down the long driveway to the house. He told himself it was the cold. Maddy practically bounced beside him, the happiest he’d ever seen her. She was going home, to her father, to her bed. Home.

Wade wasn’t sure where he was going.

The curtains were all drawn over the windows to help keep in whatever small amount of heat they could, and that meant Jaxxon couldn’t see them coming. Maddy insisted on standing behind Wade, all the better to surprise her father, and Wade was too tired to argue. He knocked hard on the door and waited.

“Go the fuck away” came Jaxxon’s voice from the other side of the door, and Wade heard Maddy stifle a giggle behind him.

“You’re gonna wanna open up,” said Wade in response. He could almost hear Jaxxon swearing under his breath on the other side of the door. He wished Maddy had wanted to stand beside him, the better to get Jaxxon to open up. But it was the second of January and Maddy was convinced she was the best New Year’s present there was. She was right, of course—but it wasn’t Maddy Jaxxon could see through the peephole. It was Wade.

To Wade’s surprise, Jaxxon opened the door. He didn’t look good: thinner definitely, unshaven, dull eyes. His hair was messy and he was wearing a bathrobe that looked like it hadn’t been washed since Wade left.

“Why would I want to open my door to you?” asked Jaxxon. It was a good question. Wade didn’t know why he even opened the door to ask it. He stood there, awkwardly trying to find words, any words, but there was nothing to say.

Maddy shuffled behind him, though Jaxxon didn’t seem to notice. If she was waiting for him to ask, she would wait awhile. But it was cold and starting to sleet again, and she’d had enough of being away from home. She stepped out from behind Wade.

Jaxxon’s gaze fell on her. Wade watched his expression go from irritation to complete blankness, then something like numb hope. He blinked, stared.

“Hi, Dad,” said Maddy. Jaxxon visibly swallowed.

“She’s real,” said Wade, and Maddy moved forward to put her arms around her father, the first time Wade had ever seen her display much affection. Jaxxon moved to wrap his arms around her and Wade could see his dull eyes now shining. He was on the verge of tears.

He really had thought she was dead.

Wade thought he ought to leave them to it. He shrugged off his bag and pulled out the soda, the green water bottle with stars. He set them in the snow on the front step and turned to go, trying to figure out where he could stay for the night. He didn’t want to ask help from neighbors, not when it meant admitting he and Jaxxon were no longer together. He didn’t want to deal with that yet.

“Wade,” said Jaxxon, and when Wade glanced over his shoulder he saw both Maddy and Jaxxon looking back at him. He froze. “Come in. Please.”

It was the please that got Wade more than anything. He paused, considered. One night wouldn’t be too much. He could sleep on the couch, say good-bye in the morning, get a fresh start. And he wouldn’t have to disappoint Maddy yet, who was looking downright betrayed that he’d act like leaving.

“Do you mind?” asked Wade. Jaxxon stepped inside with Maddy, leaving the door open. Wade picked up the soda and bottle and entered.

The house wasn’t in as good a state as when he left it several weeks ago. Jaxxon hadn’t washed all his plates or even most of his clothes, and items were cluttered about, but otherwise it was much as he remembered. As he shut the door Wade could hear the heat kicking on, so it would be warm soon. Better than he’d hoped.

“Hear that?” asked Jaxxon, looking at Maddy at arm’s length. “We’ll have hot water soon. You want a bath?”

“Yes,” said Maddy, sounding relieved. When even a kid wanted a bath, Wade decided, that had to mean they were truly in the Apocalypse. He stripped off his sodden coat as Jaxxon and Maddy disappeared back to her bedroom and then to the bathroom. Wade glanced around, feeling awkward. The place was home and yet not, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He began to tidy.

“You can probably snag a quick shower too,” said Jaxxon, coming out into the living room. Wade couldn’t look at him. He was acting like nothing had happened. “Wade?”

“Thanks,” said Wade, taking a stack of greasy plates to the kitchen. Jaxxon stalked after him.

“Don’t be such a bastard. I’m in a good mood.”

“For once,” said Wade, unable to help himself. “You should take a shower too. Do you have any clean clothes?”

“I moved on to wearing yours,” said Jaxxon. He crossed his arms. “You didn’t seem to be using them.”

Wade took a breath. He didn’t want to fight. He glanced up at Jaxxon, wanting him to take Wade in his arms like he had Maddy. Wanting him to care. He set the plates by the sink and went to the master bathroom to shower as much of the grime of the journey off himself as quickly as possible. When he exited Jaxxon was in bed, one bedside light on.

“Maddy?” asked Wade, thinking he’d snag a blanket from the bed and go to the couch.

“Exhausted. In bed and already asleep.” Jaxxon paused. “Where are you going?”

“Couch,” said Wade. Jaxxon scowled.

“Not the fucking couch. You think Maddy wants to see us fighting? She likes you, you know.”

Wade sighed. He rolled into bed and Jaxxon turned off the light. He didn’t want to think about Maddy liking him; it would only make him hate having to leave all the more. But Wade wasn’t about to allow himself to think about the life he could have, the family he could make, here. It wasn’t possible.

To his surprise Jaxxon rolled closer and put his arm around Wade, rested his lips on the back of Wade’s neck. It was affectionate, tender. Wade closed his eyes and allowed himself to focus on it. Just when Wade thought Jaxxon must have fallen asleep he spoke.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he whispered.

“Then don’t try,” said Wade, and focused on falling asleep without wishing for a thing.

 

 

HE LET Jaxxon convince him to stay for New Year’s too. Wade found it was easy to talk himself into staying an extra day, particularly since he’d been wanting to celebrate something, anything, for so long. Jaxxon took Maddy out hunting in the morning, leaving only after Wade promised he’d still be there when they returned. He busied himself cleaning the place.

It was going to be hard to leave, but Wade thought it best. Jaxxon and Maddy would be happier together without him there constantly causing arguments. And what the hell—maybe this next year would be even better than the last. It would be difficult for everything to get worse. Things would have to break down even further, and Wade figured they’d more likely start sorting themselves out.

He found some cinnamon-scented candles in the closet and brought them out. He had no idea how to decorate for the first New Year’s after the Apocalypse and no idea what to eat, but scented candles sounded like a good call. He dug through cookbooks, looking for simple recipes that were nevertheless decadent. He made cookies with jam that were just coming out as Jaxxon and Maddy were coming in.

“Wow,” said Maddy, dashing into the kitchen and tracking snowy mud everywhere. Wade was too shocked at the mess to be immediately angry. Jaxxon was laughing.

“Since when do you know how to make cookies?” he asked, pointing Maddy in the direction of a bath. The heat was about to turn off; if she could hurry, she’d probably get half a tub’s worth of hot water. Maddy snagged a cookie before leaving and Wade allowed himself to feel surprise that she seemed to be improving so quickly.

“Since I opened a cookbook,” said Wade.

“You know, I don’t think I really appreciated your sarcasm until now,” said Jaxxon. He entered the kitchen and took hold of Wade, kissed him. Wade’s heart pounded, hard. He could feel the stiffness in Jaxxon’s pants and it was turning him on.

Jaxxon pulled back and snagged a cookie too. Wade’s emotions felt as screwed up as the world was now. He loved this man and wanted to stay. He loved this man and thought he should go. He debated how likely it was Jaxxon was in a good mood solely because Wade had brought Maddy back to him. He tried not to grind his teeth.

“Can you make cornbread too?” asked Jaxxon, staring at the cookies like he wanted another. “I’ve got the meat handled. And the vegetables. The candles are a nice touch. By the way”—here he looked Wade directly in the eye—“I found those bottles of mead you hid.”

Wade frowned.

“Sell them?”

“No. I was actually planning on drinking them all today. Personal celebration. But you showed up last night.”

“And you can’t personally celebrate anymore?”

Jaxxon grinned.

“I want to share a bottle with you. A New New Year’s tradition. You, me, and a bottle of your best mead.”

“What about Maddy?”

“Maddy’s got a whole soda to herself.”

Wade held back a sigh. At some point, he realized, he’d resigned himself to staying here another day, even to having a holiday meal with Jaxxon and Maddy. Probably about the time he decided to bake cookies. He had to have known in the back of his mind that it’d take too long and he’d have to put off leaving another day. But he’d have to do it tomorrow—it was only going to get harder and harder to leave, until he and Jaxxon would blow up in front of Maddy, who probably desperately needed stability and security now more than ever.

“This really is a holiday, isn’t it?” asked Wade, and Jaxxon laughed at the dryness in his voice.

“Damn, I l—” He caught himself. “Like where this is going. I guess I forgot how good it could feel to have a family holiday. Didn’t seem possible in all this shit.”

They both did their best to make the day a good one for Maddy, eventually pulling out an old board game and playing. Wade was having a good time, and despite planning on leaving, he began hoping for a little sex later once Maddy had gone to sleep. Just once to tide him over for a while.

Jaxxon had gotten his hands on both bacon and a decent cut of beef, and whipped up bacon cheese mashed potatoes as well as a garlicky, buttery roast. Somehow he’d also gotten his hands on carrots to round it out, and they dug out the honey to slather on the cornbread Wade baked. When they sat down to eat, Maddy with her soda, Wade and Jaxxon with their mead, Wade was shocked. This was probably the best meal he’d seen since the Apocalypse.

It was so delicious they all ate more than they probably should have, chatting and laughing, sharing stories of the past year. Wade talked about the ridiculous situations he’d gotten himself into delivering, including an attack by a very hostile chicken. Jaxxon laughed about a funny occurrence at the farmers’ market, and even Maddy joined in with a tale or two. Wade felt warm despite the intermittent heat, the result of several glasses of good mead and the good company. It felt amazing to relive the good parts of the year with people he cared about. He tried not to think about the likelihood of being alone this time next year.

When Maddy started falling asleep on the couch during a movie, Jaxxon picked her up and took her to bed. Wade was about to shut the film off when the power cut out. He yawned and cleared away the cookie plate. When he made his way back to the bedroom, it was to find Jaxxon undressing, already hard. Wade ached for him.

“I missed you,” said Jaxxon, moving over and pressing his naked body against Wade. He snaked his arms around Wade’s torso and began to unzip his pants. Wade’s breath caught.

“Me too,” he managed, and turned and kissed Jaxxon. It probably wasn’t fair to sleep with him without telling him he was going, but Wade did it anyway.

They made out slowly as Wade let Jaxxon undress him and then maneuver him toward the bed. Their skin was hot, even in the cooling room, and when Jaxxon pushed Wade to the bed he gladly lay back. Instead of climbing on top of him, though, Jaxxon circled around to the other side and pulled Wade to him. Wade took him in like that, head tilted back to receive Jaxxon’s cock, arms stretched up to feel Jaxxon’s ass. He took Jaxxon in until he nearly gagged, again and again, until he could taste the precome in his mouth. Jaxxon pulled back.

“Pick your position,” he said as he lubed up.

Wade turned, slid off the bed. He didn’t think he could look at Jaxxon now. He planted his feet on the floor and leaned onto the bed, presenting, toying with himself a little. Jaxxon turned back to him and rested a slippery hand on his hip. Wade closed his eyes, savoring the feel of being entered. Jaxxon seemed to take his time, making sure to hit Wade just the right way. He used more lube on his hand before grabbing Wade’s aching cock, circling the tip with a thumb, stroking in time to his own thrusts.

Wade came over the sheets as Jaxxon came inside him, gasping against the bed, eyes closed. After Jaxxon pulled out and cleaned up, the cool finally seemed to descend. Wade got in bed with him but still couldn’t look at him. Jaxxon pulled him close, like the night before, and Wade almost groaned.

He hated what he was about to do. But he needed to do it before he lost the nerve.

“Jaxxon,” he said.

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m going in the morning.” Wade paused. “I’m sorry.”

Jaxxon’s breath suddenly deepened, like he was waking up. For a moment Wade expected a raised voice, but it was only Jaxxon’s embrace that stiffened.

“What?”

“I love you,” said Wade, squeezing his eyes shut. “But I realized something when I got Maddy. You’re a family. You need someone you love to help you raise her, not me. We fight all the time, Jaxx. It’s better if I go.”

Wade waited, tense himself, for the reply to that. Knowing Jaxxon, it would be harsh words. It would be a good riddance. It would be that he was fine with Wade sleeping on the couch after all. He swallowed, surprised when he felt Jaxxon rest his forehead against Wade’s back and sigh.

“You’re leaving me. You’re leaving us.”

“You did tell me to not come back,” said Wade.

“I was angry,” said Jaxxon. “You left without apologizing. You took all the money. You know how hard it was to scrape together the electric bill?” He paused but Wade said nothing. “I was going to help you pay back those fines that keep showing up.”

“Don’t try to bribe me to stay. I’ll handle it.”

“Wade,” said Jaxxon, tightening his arm around Wade’s side like a hug. “Don’t be an asshole. Don’t go.” He paused. Wade waited. “I love you, you know.”

Wade held back the snort he wanted to respond with. Jaxxon sighed.

“I did a lot of thinking after you left. I know I haven’t been the best partner. Hell, that’s the main reason Rose left to begin with. But I can’t say I felt the same way when you left as when she did. I realized you were my second chance. I realized I love you. And then when you showed up with Maddy yesterday….”

Wade shut his eyes, waiting, his mind running wild.

“I don’t want to lose either of you again,” said Jaxxon. He pulled Wade even closer, squeezing hard. Wade could feel Jaxxon’s pounding heart up against his chest. “I need you in my family. Stay. Please. I’m begging you.”

Wade didn’t know what to say, but he did know it was his turn to speak. And he wanted to stay, desperately wanted to stay. But he needed to convince himself it was better.

“You going to try harder as a partner?” he asked.

“Haven’t I been?” asked Jaxxon, then quickly, “Yes. I promise.”

Wade exhaled.

“I’m a shitty parent,” he said. “I’ve even given Maddy coffee.”

“That all?” asked Jaxxon. “You’re fine. She likes you. She could stand to have someone other than me influencing her anyway.” A pause. “Wade.”

“I never really wanted to go. I just didn’t think I could stay.”

“Is that a yes?” asked Jaxxon. Wade nodded.

“I’ll stay. But,” he added, “you owe me another round of sex before we go to sleep. We gotta make up for lost time.”

He could almost feel Jaxxon smile against the back of his shoulder.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you, I think I can manage.”