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Leo kissed him.

No tea taste this time. No bitterness. Just Nate, warm and startled for half a second and then not startled at all, his hand coming up to Leo’s jaw the way it had the first night, tilting him, except now Leo could lean into it with his whole weightless being.

Nate made the deep sound again. Leo swallowed it and pressed closer and discovered, with great interest, that when he pushed, Nate went — drifting backward through the middle of the room as they tangled together, until Leo steered them to a stop and Nate broke off, breathless as if he still needed to breathe.

“Did you just push me?”

“You don’t weigh anything,” Leo said. “I could put you anywhere.”

Nate looked at him and laughed. “You like that, don’t you? Having the upper hand for once.”

Leo grinned. “I won’t deny that. I’ve been wanting to push you around from the first time you set foot in this house.”

“So this is revenge.”

“Maybe.” Leo pushed him again, gently, just to watch him drift. “But you’re enjoying it too.”

“I might be.” Nate caught the mantel edge and stopped himself. There was something new in the way he looked at Leo now, loose and bright. The nerves had burned off him somewhere in the last minute. “Come here.”

“You come here. You need the practice.”

Nate tried to push himself off the wall, but his hand just went through the plaster. He pulled it out again quickly with a look that made Leo laugh. “The wall doesn’t care about you either.”

“I’m realizing that!” Nate tried a second time—and failed again.

Leo laughed again, and he was still laughing when Nate finally managed to reach him. But then the medium took his face in both hands and made him stop in the best way possible.

This kiss was different. Slower, and with intent behind it. Nate’s thumbs moved along Leo’s jaw like he was memorizing it for a painting. Leo grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands. Underneath it, Nate was solid and warm and here.

“You should have left your clothes on the other side,” Leo murmured.

“But then you wouldn’t get to undress me.”

Leo pulled back an inch. “Can I?”

Nate’s mouth curved. “You can do whatever you like.”

Leo didn’t need to be told twice; he grabbed the hem of Nate’s shirt and pulled. Nate raised his arms to help, and the shirt lifted up easily. And then Leo dropped the shirt on the floor and forgot to see where it went.

He was too busy staring at the expanse of skin before him instead. Nate worked with his body and it showed.

Leo put both palms on Nate’s abs and marveled. There was a scattering of fine hair there, leading down. Leo stared.

Nate made an amused sound that Leo could feel rumble through him.

“Don’t laugh,” Leo said. “It’s been a long time for me.”

“I know. It’s been a while for me too.”

Leo gave him a smile. “Let’s change that.”

He put his mouth to Nate’s throat, where the pulse should have been, and felt Nate’s whole frame go taut and then melt. He kissed along the collarbone he’d traced earlier. He pressed close, chest to chest, and the warmth of him sank into Leo everywhere they touched, spreading from the contact the way it had the first night — except there was no point of contact now, there was all of him, and Leo made a sound into Nate’s shoulder that he would deny until the end of time.

Nate’s hands went under Leo’s sweatshirt.

Leo went still.

“Okay?” Nate asked, fingers waiting to grasp the fabric.