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Alex never imagined the end of the world would be boring. Yassen would call it safe, as safe as they could be, safer than any quarantine zone they’d been to. After the third breach they’d experienced, Alex had to agree with Yassen. They wouldn’t have to lie about who or what they were anymore. The closest settlement was more than a day’s hike away. They rarely went. They’d scrounged together enough things to be mostly self-sufficient.
He wandered around their little cottage, unsure what to do after completing all his chores. It was sparsely decorated, but it was theirs. They had a small kitchen and a worn couch in front of a fireplace, but the most important part was the little bedroom they shared. Alex had hoarded as many blankets and pillows as he could, and at night, lying beside Yassen, it felt like the safest place on earth.
One more round around the perimeter wouldn’t hurt. He grabbed his rifle from the rack and went out to check if anything had been triggered.
The inside of their home felt cosy compared to the veritable fortress it was from the outside. There were long stretches of fence with razor wire and other obstacles, especially around their garden, where they kept their bicycle and motorbike hidden. Yassen had turned their perimeter into a death trap for anyone uninvited, both living and undead, and Yassen had no intention of inviting anyone over.
Alex yawned as he checked their traps. They were far enough away from the cities to avoid the hordes, but that didn’t mean they could be careless.
He found one zombie that had fallen into one of their pits. Whatever skin wasn’t sloughing off was ashen; his eyes were a milky white, and the flesh around his nails and teeth had pulled back to give him the appearance of wicked teeth and claws.
Alex shuddered at the sight. The first few times he’d seen one this old had been horrific, even though it was the fresh ones you had to look out for. He took the rifle off his back and aimed it at the helpless zombie trying to claw its way out of the pit.
“I’m sorry,” Alex muttered before he pulled the trigger. He hated killing them like this when he had time to look them over and think they’d once been people.
The rest were empty as usual, so Alex went inside to try to entertain himself until Yassen returned from his hunting trip. He absentmindedly checked the frequencies on their little radio. Most were empty noise, but sometimes he’d get lucky and find one still playing songs. Whoever controlled the station was doing more for the remnants of humanity than Alex was.
He yawned again and scratched at his threadbare shirt. They’d have to go into town soon for more clothes. They had all kinds of things there; the only thing they always lacked was food, of which Alex and Yassen had plenty. Maybe they could trade some meat and vegetables for a few more books or even a board game.
The door creaked open, and Alex smelled gunpowder and a hint of blood before he saw him. A combination that would’ve brought back terrible memories until not long ago. Now, it told him what he’d have for dinner. Yassen stood in the hallway, rifle slung over his shoulder and holding several rabbits and a pheasant by their feet.
Alex rushed towards him and captured his mouth before Yassen could say anything. His look of surprise that would melt into quiet affection would never get old. Alex smiled as he took the bounty and placed it on the counter to free Yassen’s hands, snaking an arm around his waist as he returned to his embrace.
“I hope you’re in the mood for rabbit stew again,” Alex said as he nuzzled Yassen’s neck, too impatient to wait for him to take his coat or boots off. Calloused fingers carded through his hair, and Alex hugged him tighter. It was a display they never would’ve gotten away with in the cities without someone taking issue or telling Alex that Yassen was too old for him.
“If you’re so tired of the same, you should accompany me next time. I saw some deer tracks not too far away.” Alex could feel the hint of a smile against his hair. He hummed; normally, they took turns hunting, so someone was always there to defend their cottage, but going together would be a nice change of pace. He let go of Yassen and put on a kettle so they could have some tea before starting dinner.
That night, they lay in bed with Alex’s head resting on Yassen’s shoulder and his fingers tracing his scars. There were so many; a good deal of them were still fresh from when the apocalypse started. Alex shivered; he had plenty of those, too, and Yassen showed them the same kind of gentleness and affection.
England had collapsed within a night; they’d heard some reports that the same was happening all over the world, then all news ceased, and they were left on their own. It had been years since then. For once, he’d been lucky to have been captured on a mission by Yassen. Otherwise, he probably wouldn’t have survived on his own for long. Ian had trained him in a lot of things, but not how to survive an apocalypse; Yassen had taught him that instead, along with many things Alex hadn’t known about himself.
“You’re thinking,” Yassen said.
“We need to go into town soon.”
Yassen hummed in agreement but didn’t comment further.
“Maybe we can trade some of our food and supplies for something fun? It would help them a lot, and we’ve already read all the books we have. Maybe they have some board games or cards?” He remembered the sunken and dirty faces he saw last time. Hopefully, his friends were better off wherever they were.
“Alex…” Yassen wanted to say something disapproving but trailed off. Instead, he pulled him in for a kiss. Alex moved to sit on top, enjoying the familiar scratch of stubble, and his worries melted away. He pulled back with an impish grin on his face.
“I could absolutely beat you at poker.”
Yassen’s face remained perfectly placid, but Alex knew him well enough to recognise the amused twinkle in his eye. “No, you could not, little Alex. Besides, we have nothing to bet with.”
“Fine,” Alex rolled his eyes, “I could absolutely beat you at strip poker.” That did get him a smile from Yassen.
“I’ll have to set more traps,” Yassen put his hands on Alex’s thighs and began to move them up, “will you look at what we can spare? Someone has to have a pack of cards I can use to prove you wrong.”
There was a flash of mischief on Yassen’s face, and Alex was flipped before he could even register it. Alex’s yelp turned into laughter as Yassen crawled on top of him, chucking several pillows off the bed that were in his way. Alex never imagined he would laugh at the end of the world.
Yassen left early in the morning, leaving Alex to rummage through their miscellaneous possessions and cupboards that were kept out of the way. Alex put on the radio in the hopes of catching a song.
It could’ve only been an hour before he gave up hope of hearing anything but static on the regular frequency. He checked the others one last time and heard the sound of shaky breathing. Alex’s focus sharpened as he heard the stranger begin to speak.
“Please, if anyone can hear us. We’ve been trapped and are surrounded. We need help.” It was the sound of a woman and, from what Alex could make out in the background, a crying child. The message looped, the woman repeatedly begging for help and giving their location. It was a village only a few hours’ walk from the cottage.
Alex had just enough sense to write a note before rushing out the door, bag and rifle slung across his back as he jumped on his bike. He had no idea how long that message had been looping. He hoped Yassen would understand.
There had been a village there once. Now, all that was left were empty houses and overgrown gardens. Alex found the place pretty quickly; all he had to do was follow the noise of half a dozen zombies. They wandered around the house, drawn in by the knowledge of people inside, but luckily, the door and window barricades had held up so far. He spotted an empty car nearby. It was in a decent condition, and either it belonged to the trapped survivors, or he could return later with Yassen to see what they could salvage from it.
Alex dumped his bike nearby and snuck around them into a house opposite the target. He already had plenty of training being quiet, and zombies weren’t the most attentive, especially when there’s only a door between them and an easy meal, Alex thought dourly.
He climbed to the second floor and made himself comfortable in front of a window overlooking the swarmed. There wasn’t much left there, just a few footprints left in the dust he assumed were from the trapped survivors, but Alex still managed to almost stumble over an empty bottle on the floor. He peeked out of the window and sighed when none of the zombies reacted to the noise.
Then, all that was left was to take them out. Alex had done his best to barricade as many doors to his room, but wiping out a small horde on his own was still going to be nerve-wracking. Alex wished he’d brought Yassen along; this would’ve been over within moments with him at his side, with the calm of Yassen’s presence, guiding Alex’s shots and offering quiet praise like he had during their training sessions. But he couldn’t have waited for him, not while knowing lives were at stake.
He took a deep breath and looked down at the horde through his scope. With practised ease that Yassen and Ross would’ve been proud of, he took his first shot, landing cleanly between the eyes of the first zombie. Yassen had figured out quickly that damaging the brain or severing the spinal cord were the only reliable ways to put down one. The shot rang out, and all the zombies flailed around wildly, looking for where the noise came from, but they weren’t smart enough to look up.
Another deep breath. Alex hoped he wasn’t scaring the kid with his shots. He meticulously picked them off one by one. He would’ve preferred to use some explosives, but he didn’t want to risk the people he was saving. He waited a bit after he’d cleared them all to make sure no others had been alerted, but those seemed to have been the only zombies in the area.
Alex made his way to the front door, covering his nose and mouth at the stench as he stepped over the corpses of the recently re-deceased. Knocking on the door had no effect; they’d probably retreated deeper into the house. Luckily, he’d brought a crowbar.
“Hello?” he called out, “I heard your message! I’m here to help!” His calls were met with more silence. He felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle; something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. He searched the ground floor and didn’t find anyone. In fact, most of the place seemed to have a thick, untouched layer of dust. But before he could think too much about it, a small thud led him upstairs.
“It’s okay! I’m alone, and I’m not going to hurt you!” It was a stupid idea to shout and announce you’re on your own, even more so, but he didn’t want the woman to think he was part of a group of raiders. Hopefully, that would put her at ease.
There was another thud coming from the bedroom, and as Alex got closer to it, he heard more crying like he had over the radio. He knocked on the door to announce his presence and slowly turned the handle, surprised they hadn’t barricaded it.
As he peeked inside, he saw no one, and the feeling of wrongness intensified. His hand drifted towards his knife, and he hid it behind his arm as a precaution. The door creaked as he swung it open. On top of the bed lay a small cassette player from which the crying sounds emanated.
“Alex Rider?” a voice said from behind him.
It was a trap. Alex’s stomach dropped as the realisation crashed down on him, and a shadow moved in the corner of his eyes.
He ducked just in time to dodge the first hit. His opponent hid most of his face but moved in an eerily familiar way, and worst of all, he knew him. Alex struck out with his knife and buried it deep in his attacker’s side before pushing past him to run away.
His attacker cried out but was still upon him within seconds, crashing into him in the middle of the hallway. His arms wrapped around Alex’s throat with crushing strength.
Alex kicked and thrashed, but nothing he did seemed to affect him in any way. The hold the man had on him was like a vice. Spots danced before his eyes as his lungs cried out for air. It didn’t take long before everything went completely black.
His last thought was that of Yassen, and how sorry he was he didn’t get to say goodbye.
There was a kind of peace to the apocalypse that Yassen didn’t think it would have. One he likely wouldn’t have found without Alex. They had built up a routine, a life, together. Yassen looked forward to coming home nowadays, an idea he’d previously thought impossible.
He’d set the last of their traps and foraged as he went along. He could already imagine Alex’s smile when he presented him with the handfuls of blackberries he’d found.
When he approached their cottage, it was already late in the evening; he saw nothing unusual. Inside, however, it was a mess, which quickened his heartbeat before he remembered that he had asked Alex to look through their things. The radio continued to murmur, something Alex must’ve been listening to, but Yassen didn’t care to catch the words. The anxiety didn’t go away. Where was Alex? He went to check the garden out back only to catch a scrap of paper lying on the table.
Caught a distress signal
Went to help
Please don’t worry, I’ll be home soon
Love
Alex
The paper crumpled in Yassen’s fist as he breathed deeply before spinning towards the radio. A distress message continued to broadcast on repeat. Yassen couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason, but something was deeply wrong with it. It was either his overdeveloped sense of paranoia or the decades spent living among the worst of humanity, but the message felt distinctly like a trap.
He had no idea how long Alex had been gone. He was speeding off on his motorcycle within minutes into the dark. He should’ve known something like this would happen. There was no way Alex wouldn’t go, even if he knew the chances of it being a trap. All he could do for now was hope it had been set up by some amateurs. He held onto the image of Alex surrounded by a group of unconscious raiders, ready to greet Yassen with some god-awful pun of his.
The village was deserted. The sight of dead zombies only offered a hint of relief, which was swiftly replaced with more dread once he found Alex’s bike abandoned. The small trail of blood leading out of the house made his heart stop. Whoever the blood belonged to wasn’t fatally injured and, most importantly, hadn’t been hurt too long ago. The blood led to tire tracks, visible thanks to the dirt and debris on the village roads. It was easy enough to follow.
Yassen had to hurry. If they hadn’t killed Alex to take his things, their plans for him might be far more sinister.
Alex woke up when his body slammed against cold metal. The lock clicked shut as he tried to sit down and found himself surrounded by more metal. Alex blearily blinked at his captor, whom he now saw looking at him from between the bars separating them. He was in a cage. The gears in his head turned until his vision cleared, and they came to a crashing halt; he was looking into the face of a grinning Walker.
“Why am I not surprised you’ve made it this long?” Walker looked more grizzled compared to the last time Alex had seen him. A ruler-straight scar from a bullet decorated the side of his head. It was a shame that whoever shot at him had missed.
“I’m not surprised you made it at all,” Alex replied, “You never had the brain for any kind of operation. The zombies must avoid you. Where’s Klaus? Are we going to have a class reunion?”
Walker smiled, but Alex noticed a twitch of annoyance. “He’s getting patched up. You got him good. He’ll want to return the favour soon enough.”
“Dodge or get stabbed,” Alex repeated a phrase he’d heard during hand-to-hand training more times than he could count. “And then what? It’s not like Scorpia still exists to order you around. Otherwise, I’d be dead already.”
He took a good look at his situation. He was in a cage attached to a chain for some reason.
“Very true, Rider,” Walker grinned, “you really fucked us over. We wanted to lure some poor bastards and take their stuff, maybe recruit them if they had potential. But then you showed up.” Alex didn’t like where Walker was going with this. “Since zombies make for terrible punching bags, we’ll keep you around for fun until we find a buyer or get hungry.” The sadistic joy was palpable in Walker’s voice.
“Brainless and tasteless, you keep surpassing my expectations.” Alex knew it was a bad idea to keep mouthing off, but he refused to show Walker that he’d been rattled. Not even the insane people on his missions had threatened to eat him.
Walker got up and pushed some buttons on a rusty control panel. The cage moved to what Alex realised was the edge of a pit. Only then did he hear the low moaning and groaning of a horde of zombies, all pressed against each other in the confined space. His heart lurched. The cage tipped over the edge, and he was finally upright and got a good look at all of them. The zombies were starving, more skeletal than any Alex had ever seen. Their claw-like hands with parchment skin stretched over their fingers stretched out towards him. Alex was still well out of their reach, but Walker could lower the cage whenever he felt like it.
“Well, it was wonderful catching up with you, but I have other matters to attend to,” he gestured, and a guard came in, “Marcus and Liam here will keep an eye on you in the meantime.”
“And waste his time?”
“I’ve known you longer than today, Alex. I know you’re a slippery one, and my men only need one push of a button to drop you in that pit if you try anything.” Walker left Alex and the guards behind, smiling and waving as he walked away.
Marcus and Liam were former Scorpia members, too, but had never been Malagosto material. Unfortunately for Alex, they were impossible to talk to; they continued to ignore anything he said or did, giving Alex not even an opening to get more information. Not even any of his puns got a reaction out of them. He huffed and shuffled around fruitlessly to make himself comfortable, curling up on the bottom of the cage and trying to find some sleep amidst the moaning of the undead.
Walker enjoyed a glass of whiskey as he looked over their plans. With Scorpia gone and Walker stuck in England thanks to the apocalypse, he decided it was time to take power into his own hands. He and Klaus had teamed up and had begun gathering allies and supplies, hoping to eventually take over the quarantine zones and become the dominant power in their corner of the apocalypse.
Finding Alex had been a boon. He knew how dangerous he could be, and preemptively taking care of a potential threat was just good business.
Klaus walked in, one arm stuck to his bandaged side. “We’ve got a visitor.”
Yassen observed the base from a distance through his scope. It was completely dark by the time he arrived. He’d spent enough time in buildings like that before the apocalypse to know the basic layout and that they were only used for illegal activities. It was a series of industrial buildings connected to each other. It was well defended, with traps similar to the ones he put outside their home hidden among the intentionally placed crates and rubble, but only a few guards. They were good but low on manpower.
He weaved through the trees, stepping over and around any traps in his way. Normally, he’d take a day or two to scout out a place, learn their patterns and sneak in and out without leaving a trace. But they had Alex; he couldn’t afford to wait. He approached the fence, but with no tools to cut through it, he decided to risk jumping over it.
The guards didn’t notice him slipping in behind them. He had to make a choice: kill one and reveal himself to have the other lead him to Alex’s location or continue to go unnoticed and look around until he found the boy himself.
The choice was made for him when another man turned the corner at exactly the wrong moment. He froze and stared right at Yassen. The guards shuffled uncomfortably, not yet aware of who was behind them.
“Cossack? You’re alive?” Yassen straightened his back, his face revealing no confusion while mentally working through all the people who would know him by that name. He had to be someone from Scorpia, and then Yassen was hit with the vivid image of a skinny German guy doing his best to prove he was worthy of Malagosto’s, of Yassen’s time.
“Klaus,” Yassen gave him a curt nod. The guards only then noticed him. The one thing that wasn’t disgraceful about them was that they kept their surprise hidden.
“We found him outside, sir,” the one on his left lied. Yassen corrected himself—there were two things.
“It’s good to see you again, Cossack.” Klaus dismissed the guards and gestured for him to follow. “May I ask, are there others still around? How did you find us?” There was no hostility that Yassen could detect. The look in Klaus’ eyes told him everything he needed to know. To him, it seemed like life had just dropped a prime asset on his doorstep, something he was in desperate need of.
“You leave trails,” was all Yassen could come up with. Where was Alex when you needed him? The plan had taken such an unexpected turn that he found himself floundering. Fortunately, his stoic reputation and one raised eyebrow were enough of an explanation for Klaus’ Scorpia training to kick in and not question his superior.
“You have your own base; that’s a good start. Are there others more competent than the guards?” he asked, and Klaus talked freely as he led Yassen through the labyrinthine compound to a kind of lounge, more comfortable than anything he’d seen since the world ended. Yassen barely listened, half wondering how someone like him could graduate and half surveying the inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex.
“Let me get my partner in this operation; he can tell you more about what we’ve been doing in Scorpia’s absence.” Klaus foolishly left him alone, too excited about having someone like Cossack on his side.
But all Yassen could think about was Alex. They had to know who they’d captured. The thought that he was too late and they’d already taken their revenge made him feel sick to his stomach and clouded his judgement.
Alex preferred taunts over deathtraps, and by the time he woke and saw a pitch-black sky through one of the few windows near the ceiling, he began to panic. Yassen must be worried sick. It had been ages since he’d been caught like this, and Alex had forgotten what it was like to have someone back home worry about him. He had to escape.
Alex took a better look around. The rest of the place was used for storage, but a precarious-looking catwalk hung over everything. There was no other solution. Alex slammed himself against the cage’s bars, rocking it in mid-air. The chain creaked but held. Alex hit the bars again, working with what little room he had. If he could just swing close enough to grab hold of the catwalk, he could potentially free himself.
“Stop that! What the hell are you doing?” Marcus shouted at him, but Alex ignored the yelling. That’s what they got for ignoring his brilliant punnage.
Then Liam pressed a button, and the cage began to descend into the pit. However, Alex didn’t give up and kept throwing himself at the bars, even as some of the more enterprising zombies were already clawing over each other to try and reach him.
He was so close to touching the catwalk, with his arm stretched out between the bars. Just one more swing would suffice. Then, one of the zombies shrieked and leapt at him. It almost grabbed the bars, and the rotting jaws snapped too close to his feet.
He was too distracted when he latched onto the catwalk railing. The chains holding it up had rusted after years of disuse, and Alex grabbed on too tightly, sending the entire structure crashing down, along with Alex in his cage, snapping free from its chain.
The loud clashing of metal on metal and the dying screams of the guards as they were crushed filled Alex’s ears for the agonising second he was in freefall. The landing knocked all air out of him. It was a harsh landing, but the metal of his cage kept him from meeting the same fate at Walker’s guards.
Alex lay there momentarily, moving all his limbs to check for injuries. Nothing major, just a lot of bruises and some cuts. Lifting his head, he saw that the lock on his cage was gone, and just beyond it, the catwalk that created a convenient ramp for the zombies.
Two thoughts crossed Alex’s mind: excellent and oh shit. He crawled out from under the wreckage, praying the zombies were just as dazed as he was so he could get a headstart. He had no idea where he was or how many other people were in the building. It didn’t matter now; starving zombies were vicious, and no one here had a convenient sniper nest. All he had to do was outrun everyone else.
Alex rushed through the doors he’d seen Walker leave through. Entering a hallway, he had no idea where to go or where the exit was. The zombies began to spill out of the pit. Alex didn’t wait for them to catch up; he just ran, even as he watched a few clusters of people, all mercenaries, come out to see what all the noise was about, only to panic and reach for their guns.
The gunshots ahead surprised him enough to pause. There was no way the zombies had reached that far into the compound already. So whoever fired did so at other people, meaning he had a gun, something Alex would really like to have at the moment.
The door led to a large communal room. Alex cracked the door open enough to peer through and saw something that would’ve horrified him just a few years ago. Yassen stood over the bodies of Klaus and Walker, blood splattered on his face and his eyes as cold as the day he first saw him.
He’d never been this relieved to see a murder scene.
Yassen saw the door opening from the corner of his eye. On instinct, he swung the gun to face the intruder only to see a familiar blond head in the doorway with a bright smile that would make Yassen melt any other time and a slightly manic gleam in his eyes.
Yassen lowered his gun and, in a few steps, had Alex wrapped in his arms and, in a moment of vulnerability, kissed him. It was terrible timing on his part; anyone could come in at any moment, but he didn’t care. A weight had lifted off his shoulders. Alex was okay, and he would stay that way as long as they were together. He allowed himself a few precious seconds of peace before he pulled back to examine Alex for damage and bites. He touched a bit of Alex’s jacket, where some blood hadn’t fully dried yet.
“Not mine,” Alex said before returning the gesture. Yassen had just killed two men at point-blank range, and Walker had put up more of a fight than he was willing to admit.
“Not mine either.”
“Good.” Alex’s smile wavered, and his eyes darted between Yassen and the door.
“Guards?”
“No… I may have released a horde of zombies they kept here, though.” The confession was accompanied by a pull on Yassen’s wrist, telling him to move.
Walker and Klaus, two assassins who had graduated from the most prestigious training academy, had been stupid enough to not only collect zombies but also allow Alex near them. Yassen had known Scorpia had been falling into madness before the apocalypse, but he didn’t know other members had been this sure of themselves to commit such acts of stupidity.
Alex pulled at him again and brought Yassen back to the present. “Do you know the way out?” he asked.
With a nod, Yassen took the lead. Their brief conversation had been ample time for the zombies to catch up to them. The air had filled with their rotten scent, mixed with the metallic hint of fresh blood and viscera clinging to their mouths. Yassen called out which corners to turn while both ran as fast as they could, taking only a few precious seconds to shoot at any zombie that came too close for comfort.
One of the zombies had split off at some point and was now directly in front of them. Yassen had just turned around to kill another one. Right as he fired, there was a sharp sting in his shoulder; the zombie’s claws dug into him to pull him closer. His heart stopped, thinking this was the end for him. Then, there was a bang, and the back of his head and neck were splattered with something cold and wet. The claw fell away, and the zombie thumped onto the floor, as lifeless as it should be.
One glance over his shoulder revealed Alex, covered in as much blood as Yassen and with perfect shooting form, his face a mask of panic and determination. Yassen’s heart fluttered back to life. But there would be time to admire Alex later. A nod of acknowledgement later, they sprinted to the entrance door, finally in sight.
They slammed the doors shut as soon as they were behind them. Alex held them closed as the zombies threw their corpses against the door. For a moment, Yassen was gone and reappeared with a metal bar that he shoved between the handles. They stepped back, lightly panting as the thumping continued to increase.
Then, the metal bar began to bend. Alex looked around for anything that could hold the door closed.
“Alex, where are you going? Alex!” Yassen shouted after him as Alex dashed away. Yassen sighed, trusting him to do whatever he was doing, and sought more metal bars to block the zombies. About a few minutes later, he heard Alex’s shouting.
“Incoming!” Yassen jumped away from the doors just in time as the thunderous noise of falling containers filled his ears. They crashed down in front of the doors. Alex leapt off one of them mid-fall, rolled to break his fall and stopped right at Yassen’s feet. They looked at each other for a stunned second.
“That should keep them in,” Alex said between heavy breaths. It was Yassen’s turn to smile as he pulled Alex back on his feet. Whatever people were left were too busy with the horde to pay any attention to them, and they snuck out of the compound without any further issues. They still hurried back to Yassen’s bike.
It was a quiet ride home. Alex stayed silent and clung to Yassen’s waist the entire way back. It was almost dawn by the time they saw their cottage again. They’d barely set foot in their home before Alex looked at Yassen with sad eyes he’d learned years ago to recognise to mean that Alex was beating himself up over something.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For getting myself captured? For putting you in danger?”
Yassen sighed and cupped Alex’s face, brushing away the strands of hair covering his eyes. He’d need a haircut soon. “You did well today, little Alex. You did what you thought was right and would’ve escaped without my help.” Alex’s downcast look and the blood on his face didn’t hide the blush blooming on his cheeks. Yassen wiped some of the blood away with his thumb. “We’ve had a long day; how about a bath?”
All lingering tension left Alex’s body.
“Please.”
Alex hissed as the hot water hit his collection of small cuts. He nestled himself between Yassen’s legs as he lowered himself into the tub. A quiet anger radiated from Yassen as his hands lingered on the blooming bruises on Alex’s skin, covering them up with soap. He relaxed into Yassen’s chest, humming appreciative noises as Yassen moved on to washing his hair.
Yassen was about to reach for the soap before Alex snatched it and gestured at him to move. “Let me,” he said, “it’s the least I can do.”
They switched places. Yassen sat upright, careful not to put pressure on any of Alex’s bruises. He closed his eyes as gentle fingers moved over his scalp, and the day’s exhaustion caught up with him.
“I promise not to do something like that again.” A smile curled on Yassen’s lips when he felt Alex’s lips ghost over his skin.
“Take me with you next time.”
Alex pulled back slightly. “Are you sure?”
Yassen rested his hand on Alex’s thigh, moving his thumb almost absentmindedly. “I saw your work back at the village. I would’ve liked to see it; I was impressed.”
“Impressed enough to help me clear out Walker and Klaus’ base?”
His grip tightened. “Alex.”
“Just imagine the supplies they had stashed away there,” Alex paused, “imagine how many people we could help with those.”
Yassen sighed and leaned back against Alex; he understood why he liked doing it. Something warmer than the steaming water spread through his chest. Alex would never cease to amaze him.
“Of course, I’ll help, little Alex.”