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The shockwave is still miles off when they feel it- more vibration than sound, rattling the rooftop vents at their backs. The city glows like someone lit the horizon on fire, all white-gold and too bright to look at directly.
Anthony doesn’t look at it.
He looks at Ian.
Ian’s leaning forward on his knees, fingers laced so tight they’re turning pale. He’s pretending to watch the skyline, pretending he’s not terrified, pretending he hasn’t been stealing glances at Anthony every thirty seconds like he’s counting down to some confession he’ll never actually say.
Anthony gently bumps their shoulders together. “Hey.”
Ian’s throat works. He doesn’t answer.
A wind sweeps over them- warm, unnatural, humming through the metal rails. The sky cracks open wider, molten light bleeding into the streets, and suddenly the countdown doesn’t matter. There’s no more bargaining with fate, no last-minute miracle.
It’s happening.
And somehow, the only thing Anthony can think is I wish we had more time.
He reaches out, not thinking, not planning. His hand finds Ian’s- hesitant at first, then firmer when Ian doesn’t pull away.
Ian finally meets his eyes.
In the reflection of the oncoming light, there’s fear.
But beneath it- something softer.
Something Anthony recognizes too easily because he’s been carrying it for years.
“I guess…” Ian swallows, voice barely audible over the trembling air, “I guess we should’ve talked about some things sooner.”
Anthony breathes out a laugh that isn’t really a laugh. “Yeah. Probably.”
The wind kicks up again, rustling Ian’s hair against his cheek. Anthony reaches up instinctively to smooth it back. His knuckles graze Ian’s temple, gentle, reverent- like he’s afraid he’ll break the moment if he presses any harder.
Ian leans into it.
Just a fraction. Just enough to say what neither of them ever did.
The brightness climbs the sides of the tallest buildings, eating up shadows, wiping out color. It’s so close now that the air tastes metallic.
Ian squeezes Anthony’s hand. “If we had more time- ”
Anthony cuts him off with a shaky whisper. “I know.”
The light hits the rooftop at last, flooding everything in white. It’s warm, too warm, but they don’t let go.
No jokes.
No bit.
No characters, no cameras, no years-long dance around what was always there.
Just Ian and Anthony, exactly as they started- side by side- except now, with the truth held wordlessly between their palms.
And in the last breath before the world ends, Anthony turns his head toward him.
Ian does the same.
Close enough that, if there had been even a single second more, it might’ve been a kiss.
But there isn’t.
Just the light.
And them.
Together.