This is written for a friend.

It's what she wanted, don't blame me!

The girls had gone off to find someplace that "wasn't outside" to sleep. Tallahassee had found the sentiment, like most sentiments, to be both futile and ridiculous.

"Pussies," he accused, leaning against the door of the van.

"Well," Columbus said slowly, "yeah." It earned him a glare.

Conversation, oddly enough, didn't go much beyond this. There could be a number of reasons behind this. Columbus knew his reasons. His mind was stuck on how, despite all that happened and all the promise he had practically gotten, there had not been one kiss or even a ilook/i between him and Wichita. It wasn't so much that they didn't want to but, as it would seem lately, they'd been so precariously on the move so much that there had been no time. Not to mention there was little to no privacy. It was amazing that between them, the only people left in all of America and possibly the whole fucking planet, they still couldn't get any privacy. And, yeah, they had a thirteen year old with them but Tallahassee somehow managed to be the biggest cockblock of them all. Whether it was on purpose was debatable but the accuracy with which the man could manage appear at just the right moment to break a moment (of any kind) was astounding.

So, yeah, Columbus' thoughts were pretty harried at the moment and conversation wasn't exactly flowing forth from the fountain head. Whatever was keeping Tallahassee's mouth shut was beyond him, though, but he was still determined to send surreptitious glances just to see if he could figure it out. Making out the man's expression was hard in the dimming light. Around them the sun was setting. They were somewhere in the Rocky mountains, from what Columbus understood from maps, and the sun was bouncing its fiery red rays haphazardly all across the jagged landscape. Tallahassee's face had fallen into shadow both from mountain and from the brim of his hat. He was leaning back against the van door still, one foot bent at the knee to sit against the car door.

Now that the sun was already setting, he couldn't help but wonder when they'd be tucking in for the night. Down the mountain the hotel Wichita and Little Rock had decided to risk was barely visible now in the shadow of the mountain. He honestly didn't feel like walking all that way to join them so he turned to Tallahassee expectantly and was met with more silence.

"Sleep yet or what?" he ventured, tucking his hands into his pockets. These jeans were new; they had risked a shopping spree at a mall on their way out of California. While it had gotten them nearly eaten, the haul had been worth it. The jeans were grey, something new for him, and a little tight but they had that 'distressed' look that had been all the rage until everyone turned crazy cannibals.

Tallahassee finally did seem to wake up from whatever was wrong with him and push away from the car. "Yeah, boy, do whatever y'want," he snapped with a careless, dismissive wave of his hand. Columbus was used to Tallahassee's attitude but this seemed a little dejected in the face of the usual shit he had to deal with so he supposed that what he was feeling was concern. He frowned and shuffled his feet, following the man around the hood of the van. Tallahassee abruptly stopped and Columbus, of course, ran into the man's broad back.

"Oh, jeez," Columbus mumbled. Tallahassee rounded on him, glare at the ready. "Sorry, it's just you're acting…" he searched for the right word, "weird." It really wasn't right because it earned him a harsher glare.

"I ain't acting nothing," was the nearly unintelligible reply and Columbus really knew there was something wrong if the man was dissolving into such language. Tallahassee didn't move away like he had before, though, and instead crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Columbus with the same glare. If it was a step up or down, Columbus had no clue.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he said, or more of mumbled, ducking his head slightly. "It's just, I dunno, usually you're more energetic than this. Something must be bugging you." In previous cases of having seen such behavior, Columbus could have chalked it up to Tallahassee's "Twinkie Jonesin'," as it was phrased, but in this instance Columbus had no idea what it was that was missing now.

"What're you, worried or something?" Tallahassee asks but more of accuses. His expression is something like disdain and only something like it because disdain is a too complicated expression for Tallahassee anyway. "I'm jus' tired is all and I don't need you followin' me around trying to be whiney at me."

Columbus' schools his features to dry and bland which gets him an exasperated explosion of breath from Tallahassee. It amazed him how much easier it was to deal with Tallahassee when there were zombies around. At least then, all the man's frustrations could be exerted elsewhere than on Columbus. This was not one of those times (Columbus was thankful for this despite because he was sure if a zombie showed its ugly mug right now he'd turn the gun on himself soon after, it was just one of those days) and Tallahassee was as hard to deal with as ever. They were still having their macho (not on his part, mind you) staring contest that was getting them literally no where.

"If you're tired," Columbus said just after he blinked and lost the contest, much to Tallahassee's obvious smug satisfaction. "Why don't you sleep and I'll keep first watch?" There's blankets spread out in the back of the van, where they've been catching Zs for the past few weeks. It absolutely sucks and there's a crick in his shoulder that Columbus is not sure he'll ever be rid of until he sleeps on a real bed again, whenever that will be.

His suggestion, however brilliant, is met with little enthusiasm. "That's what I was fixin' to do until you come up on me," is the growled reply. Tallahassee is more exasperated than angry now, which is a step up. Exasperated can lead to eventual, if frustrated, chuckling and then somehow involving Columbus getting punched (usually not hard). After that, Tallahassee's mood instantly improves and Columbus does, yes, feel used. "Why were you following me, huh? There something you wanted?"

Now Tallahassee is crowding Columbus and this is something a little new. Sure, his space has been invaded by this man on a few occasions but never in one like this. It's weird and Columbus has to repress the urge to step back, knowing that's just the point of this type of intimidation. He looks straight back up at Tallahassee, expression becoming as dry as he can manage. "I was concerned," he said, crossing his own arms and as he does so, brushes against Tallahassee.

The last thing he expected was for Tallahassee to grab his face in one hand and squeeze his cheeks. He blinks, absolutely startled and quickly reaches up to grab Tallahassee's wrist to keep this from escalating. Tallahassee still doesn't look angry but not much more exasperated either, more curious. He squeezes Columbus' cheeks between his fingers and thumb experimentally, earning a squeak from the younger man.

"Whatredoofin?" Columbus tries between the squishing of his cheeks. His tongue is nearly immobile like this and his cheeks are turning sort of numb under the pressure. Tallahassee's hands feel rough and foreign on his cheeks, making goose bumps scatter across his forearms. "Lemmego!"

For a second, it doesn't seem like Tallahassee will let him go but he does. His grip relaxes but his hand doesn't leave Columbus' face and instead slips around the back of his head, dragging through the brown curls before taking hold on the back of Columbus' neck. There isn't much time for Columbus to really fully comprehend this before he's being reeled in and Tallahassee is pressing their foreheads together. Tallahassee's blue eyes are bright and so very close and Columbus can feel their breath mixing between them. In the back of his mind he's thinking back to the moment between himself and Wichita. It was similar to this, the two of them suddenly close and sharing the same air, staring into each other's eyes. One difference that's obvious here, between Columbus and Tallahassee, is how much more intense it is. This is still a battle between men but still, under the surface cloying and dark, there's something else.

Columbus' stomach twists as he is sure he realizes what it is but Tallahassee, again, doesn't give him time to think about that before the fingers on the nape of his neck are biting into his skin. "You better think about this, kid, before you make any decisions," Tallahassee wisely advises and Columbus can feel his eyebrows rise slightly on his forehead. "Because I am not gonna take it like Wichita." He's not sure what that's supposed to mean but Tallahassee is already pulling away and cool air is rushing, invading between them.

He reaches out after, his hand landing on a hard pec and Tallahassee freezes, eyes intent on Columbus. It's times like these, between any of the rag-tag team of misfits, that Columbus misses the days of his loner-hood, when he didn't have to feel awkward around people because there were no people. He definitely feels awkward now but he feels a whole lot more too. Tallahassee can probably see it, in many different but no less obvious signs about his person (and body), and smirks crookedly in response. Words fail them both, or Columbus anyway, and Tallahassee takes his arm by the scruff of his sleeve.

"C'mon, boy," is the soft drawl he gets as he's led around the back of the van. The doors click open under his hand and he's shoved, literally shoved, down onto the unforgiving metal floor of the van. The blankets do no more than perpetuate his fall, sliding him further across the floor. "We still have to do watch after."