“Obviously.”
At least he admitted it.
Nate lifted his head, but he didn’t kiss him again. Kissing Leo took too much concentration, and he needed what remained of it somewhere else.
He let one hand slide between them.
He found himself easily enough. Then, more carefully, he reached for Leo.
There.
Leo’s breath caught.
The sponge dropped beside Nate’s feet with a wet slap. Neither of them paid attention to it.
Nate kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t see Leo’s face, but perhaps that helped. There was less to distract him from keeping Leo solid beneath his hand as he moved over both of them.
“Nate.” Leo went still. Then his hand settled over Nate’s, joining him.
Nate swallowed.
Their fingers moved together.
The competition was gone now. So was most of Nate’s awareness of the shower, beyond the water hitting his shoulder and running hot down his back.
There was only Leo.
Leo’s forehead against his. Leo’s unnecessary breaths beginning to come faster. Leo’s hand tightening over Nate’s whenever Nate’s focus threatened to slip.
For all the strange mechanics required to make this possible, the intimacy of it was almost painfully simple.
Nate touched him.
Leo touched Nate.
And when Nate’s concentration wavered, Leo held his hand there as if that could keep him from losing him.
Nate opened his eyes.
Leo was watching him. His cheeks were flushed, his green eyes dark and fixed entirely on Nate. There was no teasing left in his expression.
Nate moved his hand again.
Leo’s hand tightened around his.
They came together.
Nate bowed forward and caught Leo’s mouth with his because suddenly not kissing him was impossible. His concentration went completely to hell. He felt Leo’s hand around his for another moment, then their fingers began to slip through one another.
By the time Nate could think again, he was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and water running down his face.
Leo hovered inches away.
The sponge lay abandoned by Nate’s foot.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
Then Leo cleared his throat.