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He kissed him again, because he could. Because Leo was solid in his arms and warm beneath his hands. Because kissing him, gradually, let Nate forget about the weight of a hammer in his hand, the sounds of Leo’s begging in his ears.

Nate’s hand moved down Leo’s spine.

The sweatshirt vanished beneath his palm.

So did Leo’s shirt.

One moment there was knit wool beneath Nate’s hand; the next, bare skin.

Leo grinned at him. “That’s better.”

“You can just do that?”

“They aren’t real clothes.” Leo ran his hands up Nate’s chest, bunching the flannel as he went. Then the flannel vanished as well.

Nate looked down at his bare chest. “You can make my clothes disappear too?”

“I guess so.” Leo put both hands on Nate’s newly exposed chest. “You’re on my side now. In my house. Apparently that makes you mine to do with as I please.”

Nate’s body reacted to that statement with humiliating enthusiasm.

Leo noticed.

His smile widened. “You like that.”

“I think I do,” Nate admitted, and the next moment his pants were gone as well. He had one startled second to register the loss before Leo was just as naked as he was. “Convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Very much so.” Nate caught him around the waist and rolled them, although rolling was a generous word for what happened. Without the floor beneath them, they turned slowly through the air until Leo was under him—or as close to under as either of them could be while suspended several inches above the sleeping bag.

Leo laughed and hooked a leg over his.

Then Nate kissed him, and they both went quiet.

There was only skin between them now, Leo’s narrow body pressed along his from chest to thigh. Nate kissed the hollow beneath Leo’s ear. Leo tipped his head, giving him more room, and Nate worked his way down his throat.

There was still no pulse.

But Leo’s fingers tightened in his hair.

Nate moved lower. Collarbone. Shoulder. The center of Leo’s chest.

Where the hammer had gone through.

Nate stopped.

Leo’s fingers loosened. “Nate?”

He put his palm flat against Leo’s chest.

No wound. No mark. Leo was whole beneath his hand, watching him with growing understanding.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Leo said.

“I know.”

“Do you?”