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Release went through him in a rush, his whole body drawing tight before it gave way. Leo held on. Nate kept his hand moving, kept kissing him through the broken sounds Leo made, until Leo shuddered against him and hid his face in Nate’s shoulder.

They stayed wrapped around each other afterward, turning very slowly above the floor.

Nate’s hand settled between Leo’s shoulder blades.

Their clothes did not return.

Nate wasn’t sad about that, and he didn’t think Leo was either.

They were kissing again, more gently now. Slow and soft, with no urgency behind it. Nate noticed the stillness again when they parted—the silence beneath Leo’s ribs, the absence of breath against his cheek.

Then Leo brushed their noses together and tucked himself closer.

Different, yes.

Not worse.

Nate closed his eyes and held him, and tried to forget, at least for a little while, everything that had happened in the basement.

When Nate woke, he was back in his body.

And alone.

He reached before he opened his eyes. His hand found the sleeping bag, bunched against his stomach, and nothing else.

The sitting room was dark. Bartholomew sat beside the duffel bag. The laptop lay closed near Nate’s feet.

No Leo.

Nate checked his phone. A little after one. He’d managed less than two hours.

His mouth was dry, and there was a dull pressure behind his eyes, but the full consequences of the tea hadn’t arrived yet.

He set the phone down.

He knew where Leo probably was.

Downstairs, standing beside a cot that had been empty for decades. Looking at a blanket. Waiting to remember something else.

Nate turned onto his back.

He could go down. But Leo knew where he was, and Nate wasn’t going to make him explain why he’d returned to the room. He understood well enough.

He lay there for another ten minutes.

Then he sat up and reached for the laptop.

There was work he could do without getting out a tool. He needed to finish an edit, check the channel, answer a few comments. Ordinary things.

The screen lit the room.

His numbers were good.

Views were up. Subscribers were up. The last few uploads were all doing well, and one of the older hallway videos was still bringing in new viewers.

A month ago, he’d have stared at these figures until he could convince himself they were real.

Tonight he clicked past them.