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[nothingtomiss]

After he's checked in with Ray and Marissa and thoroughly made sure that Terry's fine, the next stop's a no brainer. In dry clothes (which might yet be a mistake), Brad sets off towards Nate's hut. His combat boots are pretty much damp right the way through at this point, and his pants soak through the knee pretty quickly. The sun's fucking

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[assured_of_this]

"Where else would I be? Remy's busy treating frostbite and school's canceled." Nate's peering out at Brad from around the side of the hut, camo and boots from the waist down, topped by a white t-shirt with mud smudged at the hem. Today is possibly even more surreal than the day before, and out here checking on the few plants he'd been trying to grow, he has to wonder what it's doing to his body when his toes are freezing while his nose gets sun burnt.

[nothingtomiss]

Brad makes a beeline for him, dropping into a crouch beside him and leaning in to kiss him before he can protest, not that he's likely to. Brad's not about to insult him by saying that he was worried, but it's good to see Nate, all the same.

"Are you fucking gardening?"

[assured_of_this]

That's unexpected, and Nate simply stares in bafflement at Brad for a moment before he replies. "I take it Terry said yes," he concludes, ignoring the gardening comment altogether. Whatever he'd been doing a moment ago hardly seems important, under the circumstances.

[nothingtomiss]

That look on Nate's face, it's endearing and Brad feels the grin spreading across his face.

"Eventually, yeah," he says, with a little duck of his head. "Took her a while to get her head around it."

Took Brad a while to get his head around it, when it came right down to it.

[assured_of_this]

To be completely fair, Nate's fairly certain the only person who didn't require some time to wrap their head around the idea was Remy, and even then he suspects she was simply very adept at seeming casual about the whole thing. He's still not entirely sure how he feels about it, but is confident that moving forward trumps sitting around bemoaning his unfortunate circumstances, especially when opportunity has been so kind.

"You want to go in?" he asks, brushing snow and dirt off on his pants as he nods up to the hut. "I've got some coffee, should still be hot."

[nothingtomiss]

"Yeah, I do," says Brad, straightening up and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Anything that might stand a chance of warming my feet up."

Something in the very bottom of his belly quivers. He's not entirely sure what he's doing here, but Nate's mouth felt good on his, better than good, and that's definitely a good place to start.

[assured_of_this]

While the invitation had been innocent, as they stand and move up the steps into the hut it doesn't escape Nate that this is it, that proverbial moment of truth. They might be able to dance around it for awhile, use coffee and social niceties as a brief postponement, but the reality is that there are few better reasons for sharing body heat than a snow storm, even one that's officially passed.

There's a tall thermos nestled atop his desk, wrapped in two sweatshirts to keep it warm. Nate pours Brad some into the lid and passes it over before taking a drink directly from the bottle.

[nothingtomiss]

Brad takes the coffee gratefully, holding it in cupped hands. His nose might be burnt, but there's a bone deep chill in him from spending so much time out in the cold in the last twenty-four hours. He perches on the edge of Nate's bed, long legs stretched out in front of him, wet cotton clinging around the knees.

"So Remy's good, then?" Nate had said she was working, after all. "I ended up having to rescue a stripper yesterday. You know Helen?"

It feels really fucking weird to be making conversation with Nate right now.

[assured_of_this]

While Nate has never officially met Helen, it's difficult to not know of her. It's a small island, and she's got quite the reputation. "I'm sure she appreciated your assistance," he remarks with a smirk as he caps the thermos and wraps it back up.

Finished, he leans back against the desk and regards Brad with a calm he doesn't at all feel. "You have a little time?" he asks, and the whole situation feels so wholly surreal he's not sure what to do except sit back and let instinct tell him where to go with it.

[nothingtomiss]

"I had to respectfully decline any form of...appreciation," says Brad, with a smirk of his own as he drains the coffee and holds the Thermos lid out to Nate.

One eyebrow quirks, just barely, and then Brad gives a nod. His eyes never leave Nate's face.

"Yeah. I've got time."

[assured_of_this]

It's beginning to seem like they're doomed to always begin awkwardly, and Nate can't help but have a moment where he feels helplessly inelegant, a teenage virgin fumbling under his prom date's crinoline. Obviously he'd like things to progress more smoothly than that, but it isn't as if he's much experience in seducing men.

In the end, the best advice seems to simply keep moving, so that's what he does. Having crossed the distance between desk and bed in three short steps, he pauses before Brad, looks down at those intense blue eyes.

"This is," he begins on a sigh, "...overwhelming. To say the least."

[nothingtomiss]

It's a long time since Brad did this and, when he stands up, which puts him much closer to Nate, he has to fight against feeling a little light headed. He can take the initiative here. He reaches out, fingers curling warmly around Nate's bicep and tugging him in a little closer. There's only two inches different in their height and Brad doesn't have to tilt his head very much to look righ tinto Nate's eyes.

"Neither of us are going to break," he says.

[assured_of_this]

"I know that," Nate says, a little too quickly, anxiety pushing briefly to the fore before he tells himself to get the fuck over it and on with it. "It's just new," he clarifies, although really, it is a lot of responsibility, having Brad's heart in his hands, here. Thankfully for them both, Nate's never had trouble being responsible.

"It's like, I've sorted all of this out so that nobody's getting hurt, and now I don't know what the fuck to do." He pauses to chuckle self-deprecatingly. "You're fucking formidable, you know that? Who is ever going to resist you if you look at them like that?"

[nothingtomiss]

"You don't think that's the intention?" asks Brad, looking definitely amused before he bends his head to kiss Nate for the second time that morning, gentler this time, giving Nate room to respond, pull away if he wants to, anything.

Just giving Nate room.

[assured_of_this]

The chuckle that begins to work its way up Nate's throat finds itself caught in Brad's mouth, but maybe it's better that way. Somebody's got to properly start this, and Brad's the prime candidate; it's his responsibility, in a way, for dropping it in Nate's lap to begin with.

Not that Nate's complaining about that, right about now.

He kisses back, this time. Hesitant to slow and easy with a flare of heat beneath, nerves running a very distant third to the way Brad feels and tastes, to the sudden realization that he wants him so badly it feels like he's been hit over the head with it.

When Nate pulls back, slightly breathless and eyes a little feral, he tugs Brad forward by the hips, his own arching forward to meet him. "Oh, I don't doubt it was your intention from the start."

[nothingtomiss]

Brad groans when Nate pulls him forward, when their hips press together. It's part physical sensation and part the look on Nate's face. Brad's been over this a thousand times, and he's never imagined that look.

"Always thought you'd be a quick learner, Nate," he says, deliberately grinding his hips forward against Nate's, now.