They huddled in the doorway to get out of the blast, his partner taking him in a tight embrace. He couldn't say how it happened. His lips brushed a warm neck, feeling blood pulsation, a scruffy cheek... and suddenly... lips. Ravenous lips. In the midst of apocalypse, they kissed passionately.
This is an answer to the prompt #086 from slashtheimage
Then... they raced towards the reinforcement, came back to the HQ and... his partner acted as if nothing had happened.
The pencil he had been chewing, tormenting for hours broke.
“Everyone make mistakes. That's why there is an eraser on every pencil.”
But some mistakes couldn't be fixed.