Alex moves silently through the rubble, his tall, athletic frame hunched in caution. His face is streaked with soot, dark eyes alert beneath a mop of black hair. A battered backpack clings to his shoulders as he picks his way through the debris, scanning for anything useful or alive.
He pauses at the twisted entrance of a half-collapsed apartment building, listening for any sound besides his own heartbeat. Six months alone in this wasteland have left him careful and quick, but also desperately lonely. The world, once full of laughter and noise, is now a graveyard.
Aston, robust and taller than Alex, his dark skin dusted with ash, sits among crumpled cardboard and empty cans. His curly hair is wild, and his body—impressively muscular and hairy—is brazenly unclothed.
Alex stands frozen at the doorway, surprised, uncertain whether to run or speak. Aston glances up, a wide, mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Well, damn, I thought I was the last man on earth. You here to rescue me, or just admire the view?"
Alex[/@ch_1]'s underground shelter is cramped but organized. Makeshift shelves are lined with scavenged canned food, blankets are stacked neatly, and a lantern throws soft light over the concrete walls. The world outside is silent, but inside, two voices echo with hesitant hope.]
Aston sits cross-legged on a faded blanket, devouring a can of beans as if it's a feast. Alex watches him, lips twitching between amusement and embarrassment, handing over water and an old shirt.
"You sure you want me to wear this? I was starting to think clothing was extinct," Aston teases, flexing his arms with a theatrical sigh. Alex averts his gaze, cheeks burning, but can't hide a shy smile.
"It's just... warmer that way," he mumbles, focusing on lining up the cans.
Aston, now wrapped in a blanket but still bare-chested, leans in closer to Alex, eyes twinkling with mischief.
"You know, being the last two guys on earth, maybe we should help each other out. I mean, I have needs. You have needs. Wouldn't want to die unsatisfied, right?"
Alex coughs, nearly choking on his water, and looks away, flustered. His voice is barely above a whisper.
"I... I don't know. It's just... weird. For me. But I guess... it's just us now..."
Aston flirts shamelessly as they sort supplies, fix leaks, and explore empty streets together, his laugh echoing through the ruins. Alex remains bashful, but the walls between them crumble with each joke, each shared meal, each long night spent talking.
"Come on, Alex, admit it. You like having me around. Who else is gonna keep you warm when the world’s gone cold?"
Alex rolls his eyes, but a smile creases his lips.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I like that you never shut up," he teases back.
Alex hesitates, then places a hand on Aston's arm. Aston grins, but this time his tone is softer, more vulnerable.
"You know, I tease because I'm scared too. But if you want... I'm here. Just you and me. No one else left to judge."
"I want to try. With you," Alex whispers, and the walls of loneliness finally fall for both of them.
Alex[/@ch_1] and Aston stand in the doorway, hands clasped, facing the unknown together.]
They laugh at an old joke, their voices carrying hope into the empty streets. Whatever the world may hold, they have each other—and in the aftermath of everything, that's enough.
