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“We could stop on the way home.”

“Perfect. You need to stop sleeping on the floor.”

Nate laughed. “I’ve been busy.”

“Yes, and now you’re taking me shopping.” Leo settled back in his seat, looking pleased with the decision. “We should get a big one.”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good. I’d like to be close to you without getting an elbow in the face every time you turn over.”

Nate was still smiling when he leaned across to kiss him. Leo made a happy sound and caught his shirt, keeping him there a little longer.

They could do this tonight: get into a proper bed together, turn out the light, and spend as long as they wanted arguing about how much room Nate’s elbows required. No need to make tea first or worry about how he’d feel in the morning.

He could just look forward to it.

When Leo let him go, Nate sat back and reached for the ignition.

“We should get you a desk too,” Leo said. “For your laptop. You can’t keep putting it on that paint bucket.”

“It’s been doing a perfectly good job.”

“No. We’re getting you a desk. You deserve to have a desk.”

Nate laughed and took his notebook from the door pocket. “Anything else?”

“A decent chair would help.”

Nate opened the notebook and began turning the pages, pausing at the notes he’d made while Sandra showed him around. Roof leak? Electrical concern. Pocket doors need repair. He remembered adding up the work, trying to decide whether the house could possibly be worth it.

Six months of his life, he’d thought. Six months and a great deal of money.

Leo leaned in, his shoulder warm against Nate’s. Nate turned to a clean page and wrote mattress, then desk and chair beneath it.

“Maybe some sheets as well,” Leo said. “I’ll help you pick.”

Nate added those too, smiling to himself as Leo began explaining what he had in mind for their room.

He’d been right about the house eating all his money.

He’d been wrong about the time frame, though. This was going to take a lot longer than six months.

Preferably, it would take the rest of his life.

Epilogue

Leo didn’t remember cheese sauce being this difficult.

He remembered it being smooth, for one thing. but every time Nate squashed a lump against the side of the saucepan, it divided into several smaller lumps.

“You’re making it worse,” Leo pointed out, hovering over Nate’s shoulder.

“I’m trying my best here. You told me to stir.”

“Can you try stirring differently?”

Nate changed direction.