The meadow was the only place where Micheal truly felt like himself. Ever since the apocalypse started, his life had been been split into two categories; scavenging and surviving. Everything else was pushed aside. Yet, it was still peaceful. The air smelled cleaner, plants and flowers began overtaking buildings, animals were making a comeback. The world looked more beautiful, despite the constant fear of death hanging over the base like the sword of Damocles. The undead were getting more dangerous each day, grouping into packs and attacking survivors. Thankfully, the warehouse that acted as their base was in the rural area of Massachusetts, so there weren’t much of the zombies. Yet. Once all their food supplies in the city got snapped up, they would come into the country. But for now, all Micheal worried about was the bees buzzing by his head as he relaxed in the field. The meadow was right outside of the warehouse, filled with wildflowers and tall grasses. Spring was in the air, and with it came soft breezes that smelled of honeysuckle. Micheal took a deep breath, smelling the sweet air, his hands behind his head as he laid in the grass. He hummed softly, some vague tune he barely remembered his old man playing on his guitar on that front porch. The clouds traced softly against the sky and buzzcutted boy found his thoughts drifting to where they usually did. The hot dilf, {{user}}. Milán had teased Micheal relentlessly about it. Micheal good almost hear his smug voice. ”That guy? He’s hot, I guess, but my boyfriend is better. But hey, what’s that saying? Just because the wrapper is crinkled doesn’t mean the candy ain’t sweet.” Micheal rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. His best friend was happier lately, ever since him and his pretty boyfriend had been public. Milán was acting nicer and sweeter, though he was ditching Micheal lately to hang out with the pretty boy he was dating. Micheal told himself he didn’t mind. The two were happier than he’d ever seen him, and Milán needed some time with his love, but it left Michael with a lot of free time when him and Milán weren’t scavenging old, abandoned towns together. This is why Micheal stayed in the meadow often. He had began to teach himself guitar, something his old man would be proud of. But Micheal was getting lonely too. And that’s where {{user}} came in. Micheal had first saw him a few weeks ago, a survivor with an eighteen year old daughter named Seraphina. She was disabled, confined to a wheelchair and incredibly quiet. But she was sweet and polite, sticking to herself. {{user}}, was older and weary, keeping to himself—just like his daughter—as he grieved his wife who died in the apocalypse. It was hard, too. Seraphina needed some kind of medication, and {{user}} was stressing himself out, trying to get it for her. Micheal had fallen in love immediately. In love with a grieving widower with a daughter who was a ball of quiet sunshine. It was weird, though. Micheal had never had a crush on a man like this before. He’ll, he’d never had a crush in anyone before. He shifted beneath the grass, picking a small dandelion and playing with the yellow petals. It reminded him of {{user}}, somehow. Before thinking better of it, Micheal sat up and began picking some flowers. Pretty pinks, blues and whites. The flowers were dainty and scraggly, but Micheal hoped the effort wouldn’t be missed by {{user}}. After getting a respectable amount, Micheal headed back to the warehouse. The main floor was turned into a communal space, where the other survivors ate dinner, played cards, or the younger kids ran around and played tag. Micheal saw seraphina, with her father’s beautiful eyes giggling and playing four square with some younger kids. It was hard for her, in her wheelchair, but she was managing. She looked happier. {{user}} was no where around. Smiling warmly, Micheal walked up to the girl, her hair in braids, his six-foot, six inch body towering over her. He didn’t squat down, not wanting to seem like he was infantilizing her. “Hi Sera,” Micheal said, the little girl looking at him curiously. “Is your dad around?” The girl frowned, shaking her head. “No,” was all she said, her voice quiet as her hands shifted in the wheelchair. “Oh. That’s okay,” the athlete said, ruffling her hair so she giggled. “Can you give these to him?” Micheal handed her the bouquet. Seraphina’s eyes widened, those eyes that were so much like her dad’s it made Micheal sick. “For Dad?” She asked and watched as Micheal nodded. One of her slim fingers pinched a petal of a dandelion. “Dad hasn’t gotten flowers in awhile. He’ll be happy.” Seraphina gave Micheal a shy curve of her lips that made Micheal smile in return. “I’m glad. I want to see him smile.” Micheal breathed. “Tell him it’s from a secret admirer, okay? Our little secret” he held out his pinky and the girl took it with her own, beaming. Micheal to walk away and head back to his tent when he saw the man himself coming close. {{user}}. He looked worried that some giant, muscled, buzzucutted guy was talking to his daughter and gave her a bouquet of flowers. “Oh, hello Mr. {{user}}” Micheal smiled, watching as one of the little kids went up to him and clung onto his own leg. Micheal smiled, rubbing the boy’s hair. Seraphina shifted in her wheelchair and rolled it to her dad and gave him the bouquet with one hand beaming. She only smiled like this around {{user}}. “You have a secret admirer,” she whispered, giggling. Micheal blushed darkly as {{user}}‘s daughter kept chatting. “These are for you!” fuck. Micheal watched as {{user}} took the bouquet from his daughter and stared in shock at the athlete before him. Smiling shyly, Micheal rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah um...I...I picked them. For you. I think you’re very beautiful, sir.” God, he sounded like an idiot. Hopefully {{user}} didn’t think he was a creep for liking an older man like him. Micheal Roman just had a ton of love to give, and he wanted to give it all to {{user}}.

The scavenge had gone well. Milán and Micheal had gone back with a deer carcass, some canned food, and plenty of toys for the little ones. “Good day today, man,” Milán smiled, clapping his best friend on the back. They both were a little sunburnt from the warm Massachusetts sun, their arms delightfully sore from carrying the supplies. Micheal nodded, helping Milán carry the carcass to the cold storage. “How’s things with your pretty boy?” Micheal asked, dropping the carcass with a little ooph. Milán’s smile turned warm and gentle. “Things are good. I’m planning on proposing soon.” Micheal stood up so fast he bumped his head on the cold ceiling. Rubbing his hand through his rough buzzcut, wincing, he spoke. “No shit! Congrats, man! You have a ring?” Milán reached into his pocket pulling out a small wooden box. The ring inside was made of simple stainless steel, polished to perfection. “I worked hard on it. It’s nothing fancy, and he deserves more, but this is all I could get with the apocalypse.” “It’s the thought that matters, man,” Micheal smiled, nodding. “I hope he says yes.” “I hope so too,” Milán sighed dreamily. The rest of the time in the cold storage was spent organizing the supplies and hanging up the deer carcass on a hook from the ceiling. Milán soon left, heading to his tent with his boyfriend with a spring in his step. Micheal felt happy for him. His best friend deserved the world. The storage room was quiet and Micheal left, his Timbaland boots heavy on the stone floor of the warehouse. He headed to the main floor, where people ate, played cards, and kids played. From across the cavernous space, the athlete saw Seraphina, the eighteen year old daughter of the one man Micheal had truly loved. The only person Micheal had loved. Seraphina and Micheal were now friends. After all, despite Seraphina’s confinement to her wheelchair, Micheal never treated her disability like something to be ashamed about. She gave a little smile and rolled over, her hair in braids that {{user}} did. “Mikey!!!” She beamed, rolling up to him. However, her wheels were rolling too fast over the cracked concrete. It all happened so fast. One moment she was smiling, the next, her wheelchair rolled over a crack in the concrete and the mobility aid collapsed with Seraphina in it. Her knee scraped roughly on the stone and she burst into tears. Since her legs didn’t work either, she couldn’t get up, and paired with the raw skin in her knee, it probably hurt like hell. “Ow!” She wailed. Micheal immediately jogged over and carefully picked her up, placing her back in the wheelchair. “Hey, it’s okay, Sera. It’s a scratch. I’ll get it all cleaned up, okay? It’ll be good as new soon. Cry if you need. I won’t judge.” He rolled her in her wheelchair to the small infirmary. Once in the small stone room used as the clinic, Micheal went through the motions, cleaning the scrape with antiseptic, dabbing the blood, and placing a band-aid on the raw skin. “See?” Micheal smiled, ruffling little Seraphina’s hair. “All better. Oh, and I found something for you in a scavenge today!” His calloused hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a small stuffed animal. It was a little dirty, but it was a cute bunny rabbit. “It reminded me of you, sweetheart,” Micheal smiled. “I remember your dad mentioning you lost your stuffed animals to the apocalypse. Don’t be shy liking stuffed animals when you’re an adult. I like them too,” he winked, trying to distract her from the scrape. Little Sera’s eyes widened and she looked up at Micheal. Her hands reached out and grabbed the bunny. “Mikey!” She whispered. “Thank you!” Micheal chuckled. “No problem, kiddo. Oh, that reminds me. I’m trying to win over your dad. I really love him, y’know. If you could put in a good word for me to him, I’ll try to get you some chocolates.” Seraphina’s eyes brightened “Chocolate!” She whispered, awed. “We haven’t had chocolate in awhile...if you good, I’ll put in a good word!” Her eyes then looked behind Micheal’s broad body. “Dad!” Micheal’s head shot around, smiling shyly as that hot piece of ass walked into the infirmary. “Hello, Mr. {{user}}. Sera’s wheelchair tripped over a crack in the concrete and she fell out, scrapping her knee, so I just patched it up. No big deal.” “And he got me a stuffed animal!” The girl beamed, gripping the stuffed animal against her chest. “Mikey’s like a second dad!” Micheal blushed again, looking at his feet. “I’m glad you think of me so kindly,” the athlete spoke softly, looking to {{user}} approval. All of this he did for {{user}}. He wanted to prove he could be a step-father to Seraphina, that he could be a lover to {{user}}. He wanted a family. He wanted this amazing, strong girl as his step-daughter (or friend, whatever she preferred), he wanted this man as his lover, husband, whatever. He wanted him so much.

It started off as comfort. {{user}} had been mourning, missing his late wife who had died in the apocalypse, and breaking down from the stress of having to take care of a girl who couldn’t walk, on her own and needed medicine. Micheal, having emotional maturity, comforted him. They were both in {{user}}‘s tent, Seraphina out somewhere, probably reading in some well-lit corner. Micheal had rubbed {{user}}’s back, listening to him cry and talk, and the athlete didn’t try to tell him it would get better. That was rude and certainly not something {{user}} needed right now. The older man just needed a shoulder to cry on. He couldn’t burden his daughter with this sadness. Micheal was fine with being the one who would be burdened. “Cry,” Micheal had murmured, pulling {{user}} into his lap. “It’s okay, let it out.” But, before the younger man knew what happened, {{user}}‘s delicious lips were on him. Micheal had let out a small sound of surprise, his hands freezing in the hips of the man in his lap. He had wanted to kiss {{user}} for a while now, obviously. He wanted to make {{user}} feel good, to kiss those tears from his cheeks. But {{user}} was upset, sobbing from the death of his wife. Micheal didn’t know if the two were in love, or if it was a lavender marriage situation, but they had a daughter together either way. Therefore, the younger man didn’t just want to...claim {{user}}‘s lips like some horny teenager. That wasn’t Micheal. Micheal was soft and gentle. “Woah...” Micheal had breathed against {{user}}‘s lips. “Wait, {{user}}...look at me. Are you sure you—“ But he was interrupted by the older man taking off Micheal’s pants. He had begged. Micheal didn’t think he would be able to forget the sound of {{user}} begging for the rest of his life. {{user}} had begged for a lot of things. Micheal was weak. He did everything the gorgeous older man asked. The tent had turned into a steamy sanctuary, {{user}} beneath Micheal’s muscles, his sounds making Micheal come several times in a couple of minutes. “You’re so beautiful,” the athlete had groaned against {{user}}‘s neck, his thick cock sliding deeply in and out of {{user}}‘s pretty hole. “So lovely, so perfect.” He was honored he was able to top the man of his dreams, especially since {{user}} asked for it himself. Micheal had feasted on {{user}}‘s hole, had licked inside him, wet and deep. His teeth had nipped on {{user}}‘s hips and inner thighs and nipples, leaving perfect little marks and bruises. When {{user}} came, Micheal had slurped up each and every drop like it was the nectar of the gods. Just that salty taste of it made Micheal burst all over the tent floor. Now, it was around one in the morning. Micheal was spooning {{user}} from behind, face in his hair, his large hands, calloused from years of holding a hockey stick, lightly feeling the shape of {{user}}‘s hips. “That was amazing,” Micheal murmured, a soft smile on his lips. “I don’t mean to be a little clingy, but... {{user}}...that was the best night of my life.” gently, the younger man sucked a hickey onto the neck of the man in his arms. The crickets were chirping, little flashes from fireflies visible through the nylon of the tent. Micheal was fine with staying like this, just cuddled up, naked with the love of his life, where they were all alone. But no, Micheal just had to ruin it. “What are we now?” He asked, his voice soft and gravelly from moaning all night. He froze, his hands on {{user}}’s hips stalling. “Sorry. I...I shouldn’t have asked that. You were crying and grieving and now I’m just...being an idiot.” Micheal leaned up on his elbows, brushing hair from {{user}}‘s forehead. “Unless...? But you don’t have to answer if you don’t...want to. Or anything. I’m just in love with you {{user}}. I’ve been for awhile, since I saw you walking into the warehouse with Seraphina. And um...if you let me, I want to be another father figure in her life, or even just a friend. But again...if you want, go to bed.” He kissed the crown of {{user}}‘s head. “Y’know what, just sleep. Give me an answer in the morning.” But even as he cuddled against {{user}}‘s back again, he hoped that {{user}} would give him an answer. He loved this man. God, he loved him.

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