One-Shots

Serenity

(a/n): You finally find some privacy with Flip... Apocalypse AU. Vibes: Lay This Body Down by Sam Lee.

This is a one-shot I had in my mind inspired by the show Falling Skies. If you've seen it, that's how I'm imagining the aliens. Though you don't need to know the show to understand this fic.

CW: Explicit sexual content, violence

Word count: ~6k

A resounding boom echoes across the street. Probably one of the last hand grenades.

You duck down as you take shelter against a broken-down car, using it as a shield. Catching your breath, you check your mag. Five bullets left.

You grip your gun tightly in your hand, hearing the battle go on around you.

The skitters ambushed your routine supply mission. They crawled down the abandoned buildings and killed half of your team in a matter of seconds.

With a yell to motivate yourself, you stand up and fire at the skitter you hear approaching from the right. Its head explodes onto the pavement and its six legs collapse under it. Gross.

Firing at another one headed towards you, you continue your search for Flip. You got separated when the firefight started.

You turn the corner. A skitter launches itself at you and you barely have time to shoot it in the leg. You dodge another, not wasting time to make sure they're dead.

The team is scattered, holding the aliens back as best they can.

You hear a metallic whale cry. That's not a good sign. Dread fills your bloodstream.

Flip's voice carries over the city blocks.

"Mechs," he shouts.

You run towards his voice despite his warning. He needs help if mechs decided to show up.

He's standing in the middle of the street, firing his machine gun at the approaching mechs. They're well over eight feet tall, bipedal legs carrying the giant robots down the street quicker than any human can walk.

The lasers are flashing all around, aiming at anything that moves. You duck behind another car after firing your last shots to draw the attention off of him.

"Get out of there," you yell. He's so stubborn.

Flip hears your voice and relief floods his body. After firing off a couple more shots at the mechs he sprints to where he heard you behind him.

He slumps down beside you on the ground, out of breath, cocking his gun again after checking his supply of bullets.

Flip grins at you. You roll your eyes.

"How many?" you ask, reloading your gun.

"At least three," he says, glancing over his shoulder. He dodges a shot from the mechs that hits the pavement, blowing it to shreds and steaming up from the ground.

He shakes his head to get the hair out of his face and turns to you.

"One for the road?"

You smile. It's a tradition you developed a couple of weeks ago when either of you feels like there's a chance you may not make it back. It's better than being afraid you won't get to say goodbye.

You lean up to him and he bends his head down, connecting his lips to yours.

He groans quietly and presses his tongue into your mouth. You eagerly accept and return the enthusiasm. Hands going to each other's hair. Lips hastily moving against one another. Tongues colliding. Breath mixing. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.