Acatl was smiling. It was more common than it had been—evidently, having someone he could truly be honest with was doing wonders for his ability to relax, and with that came those beautiful smiles—but Teomitl still couldn’t look away. It wasn’t even directed at him (probably a good thing; he wasn’t sure he could handle that over lunch), but gods, he’d never been more jealous of a good plate of grilled newt.

“It’s.” He licked his too-dry lips and tried again. “It’s good, right?”

Acatl hummed in acknowledgement and took another bite. “Thank you for bringing it.”

He couldn’t help but smile fondly, hopelessly. “I knew you’d be hungry.” I want to kiss you. There was a smear of sauce at the corner of Acatl’s mouth.

Without thinking, he leaned in.