Lester swung his chainsaw, mowing a path through the mob of needle-toothed quantum parasites, while Kit batted clean-up with her Louisville Slugger. Across the plain of dark rock, their destination: a whirling, gnashing portal that could doom all humanity. It wasn’t ideal timing for an awkward conversation, but it never was.

“You wanna talk about what happened back there?” Kit shouted.

Lester split a leaping parasite into two spasming halves. “Back where?”

“The inner hive,” Kit precised, slamming one of those halves teeth-first into their next attacker. “Where those tentacles tried to strangle us for, like, forty-five minutes?”

“Didn’t seem that long.”

“Well. You know.” Kit bashed a parasite to the ground and curb-stomped it. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Lester did not have quite enough blood on his face to hide his flush. “Can we talk about this after we save the world?”

“It never stays saved for long,” Kit said. “Let’s talk now. About the tentacles that tried to strangle us, and the fact that it gave you a massive boner.”

Lester nearly dropped the chainsaw. “No! What? I—” He lost track of a parasite sneaking up; Kit had to smack it off his shoulder. “Maybe I had something in my pocket.”

“Sure. You carry an erect, disembodied penis around in your pocket.” She grabbed his elbow and guided his neglected chainsaw into the nearest parasite. “Look, if it’s some physiological thing? Pure central nervous system? No biggie.”

“That must have been it,” Lester croaked. “Yup. Just a blood flow thing.”

“I know you never decide to get a boner,” Kit assured him. “And I know there’s all kinds. Fear-boners. Sleep-boners. The boner guys get on car-trips when they need to piss but don’t want to pull over.”

“Wait, what?” Lester finally bisected another parasite, but did it with a distinct lack of pizazz. “I don’t get those. Let’s, uh, let’s hear more about those.”

“It’s just that when the tentacles started getting tighter, you kind of moaned a little,” Kit said, winding up. “And when they first grabbed us, you were like, oh, God, I hope none of these things go straight for my orifices. Which is not a natural sentence.” She smashed the attacking parasite with everything she had, paused to admire the trajectory. “Like, at all.”

“We were ambushed, Kit!” Lester sputtered. “I was shocked, okay? I said the first thing that popped into my head.”

“There’s always an ambush,” Kit argued. “Honestly, the way you said it so loud?” She bit her lip. “It sounded like you wanted the quantum hive-mind to hear you, and go straight for your orifices.”

Lester flushed. “Why do you care so much?” He was back to his usual chainsawing rhythm, but with less precision and extra ferocity. “We should be focusing on closing the quantum portal. That’s what’s important here.”

Kit’s frustration boiled over at last. “I care because you lied!” she wailed. “I care because when we started hooking up, you asked me about my kinks, and I was really open and vulnerable about the vermicelli analingus thing, but when I asked you yours you said you didn’t have any. You said you were, and I quote, pretty vanilla, really, think it’s just part of being an action protagonist—which obviously made me feel like a terrible action protagonist!”

“I said that?” Lester muttered.

“You did.” Kit felt angry tears welling up in her eyes as she bludgeoned a wounded parasite’s skull to smithereens. “And now you’re lying about the tentacles, even though it’s barely even a kink. I mean, we all grew up online. We never had a chance.”

For the first time in fifteen high-octane minutes, Lester let his chainsaw sputter to a stop. “It’s not tentacles,” he blurted, turning to face her. “Well, maybe a little bit. But it’s really more contextual than anything.” His ears went scarlet again. “We just, uh . . . both have to be about to die.”

Kit lowered her bat. “Lester, that’s pretty much all the time.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” Lester said miserably. “I didn’t want you to think that everything we do together—opening portals, closing portals, killing monsters, monster-killing—is all just a way for me to get off. Because it’s so much more than that, Kit.” Tears were sliding down his cheeks, carving tracks through the grime and gore. “Saving the world with you means the world to me. Even if we were never in mortal danger, I’d still do it, you know? Even if it was nothing but banter and backstory reveals.”

Kit snorkeled back a sudden sob. Then she dropped her bat, kneed Lester’s chainsaw aside, and wrapped her arms around him, inhaling the distinct aroma of parasite guts and Axe body spray. “Hey,” she mumbled into his neck. “It can be both. Nearly dying is pretty sexy.”

Lester’s chainsaw clanked to the ground, and he hugged her back tightly. “It is,” he sniffed. “But the best part is still the aftermath. The quiet bit, when it’s all over.” He swallowed. “Every time I get to limp through the wreckage toward a sunrise with you, I feel so fucking lucky.”

AND I FEEL LIKE YOU TWO DON’T EVEN TRY ANYMORE.

The voice of the quantum hive-mind slashed through Kit’s brain. She looked up and realized the parasites were on pause, quivering in place around them.

YOU THINK IT’S EASY SPAWNING A MONSTROUS BROOD? YOU GO THROUGH THEM LIKE CRAZY AND DON’T EVEN NOTICE ALL THE LITTLE VARIATIONS I COME UP WITH. SOME OF THEM SPIT ACID NOW!

Kit glanced downward, reassessing the charred hole in her shirt she’d assumed was from flying chainsaw sparks. She shot Lester a guilty look. He bit his cheek, probably thinking about the whirling, gnashing portal that still needed closing.

“It’s good practice,” she wheedled.

Lester grimaced, nodded, and turned to the assembled parasites. “Hey, man, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way.” He took a deep breath. “Wanna talk about it?”