There was enough time for his heart to thump - a hard beat on a surge of relief and love and hope and a bone deep ache - and then he was leaning down to find Max's mouth with his own.

A kiss months in the making, a kiss Wyatt hadn't believed he'd ever be able to give. It was gentle to start, an almost chaste touch of lips, but firmed quickly. Deepened, as Wyatt's grip tightened on him.

"I love you," he whispered roughly, when his lungs forced him to pull back enough to breathe. "I love you, Max."