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Walt shook his head at the two of them, still smiling as he turned the page.

There were other houses, other cars, photographs of people Leo didn’t know. He asked about them all. Sometimes Walt had to stop and think before answering; sometimes a name brought a whole story with it, and Leo listened as though he had nowhere else he would rather be.

Nate would happily have sat with them for the rest of the afternoon, but after a while he began to lose track of what Walt was saying. Keeping the connection steady was taking more of his attention, leaving him less to spare for the conversation.

He shifted in his chair. “I need to stop for a bit.”

Leo shot him a worried look. “All right.”

Walt’s fingers tightened around his, then relaxed. “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay,” Nate assured him. “I need some practice.”

“Well, you’re welcome to practice here.”

Leo laughed. “We can come back.”

“Yes,” Walt said, looking at him. “I’d like that.”

“So would I.”

Nate gave them a moment longer before carefully drawing his attention back and letting the connection loosen. Walt blinked. His gaze stayed where Leo was sitting, but Nate could tell he couldn’t see him anymore.

He released Walt’s hand. Leo’s remained in his other one, warm and familiar.

Walt looked down at the album, then back at Nate. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, I...” Walt shook his head, searching for something else to say before giving up with a smile. “Thank you.”

Nate nodded. Leo came to sit on the arm of his chair, leaning against him while Walt closed the album. Nate turned his hand in Leo’s and laced their fingers together.

He’d spent years coming away from conversations like this with stories that followed him home, with people he kept thinking about long after he’d done everything he could for them.

He’d hated that.

But he hadn’t hated this. Gifting people another moment to share with their loved ones.

He wanted to do it again.

When it was time to leave, Nate found Leo looking back at Walt’s house before getting into the truck.

“He seems happy,” he said.

“He does.”

“I used to wonder whether he was, even before I could remember his name.”

Nate followed his gaze. Walt was closing the front door, taking his time about it, and Nate lifted a hand before he disappeared inside.

“Now you can ask him.”

Leo turned back, eyes bright. “Yes. I can.”

Once they were back in the truck, Nate took his hand, running a thumb over his knuckles. They had time before the stores closed, and he was in no particular hurry to get home to his sleeping bag. “Do you want to go buy a mattress?”

Leo blinked. “Now?”