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“Waiting to see how long it’s going to take before you get your lazy ass up,” Oscar teased.

Troy chuckled, stretching his legs out with a groan. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Oscar said, glad he was stomach down on his towel so no one could see his reaction to Troy's low noise.

“You were watching me sleep,” Troy said with a grin.

Oscar wanted to hate how easy it was to fall into those eyes as they opened wider, creasing at the corners from Troy’s genuine smile. Losing his parents had driven a young Oscar to find ways to express his pain, and not always in the healthiest way, which usually involved trouble with the law. It also meant friends bailed at the first sign of trouble, there only for a good time. There was also a string of half-hearted relationships that involved just him and a girl using one another. Trust was a commodity Oscar couldn’t afford, not when it came to anyone but his brother.

But Troy? God, it was so easy to melt under his warm smile and the softness of his touch.

“Alright, maybe I was,” Oscar admitted, smiling.

“Yo! Oscar!”Gabriel called, his voice ripping Oscar from his memories.

Oscar jerked. “What? Sorry, were you talking?”

“Yeah, I was, and you were off in outer space. You sure you’re okay?” Gabriel asked, concern leaking into his voice.

Oscar snorted, dropping the picture back in the box. “I’m fine, just tired, sore, and cranky.”

“So, a normal day then.”

“Your compassion is overwhelming, Gabriel.”

“Right, and if I showed you even the slightest bit of sympathy or compassion, you’d get all pissy and growl at me to fuck off.”

“I’m not going to tell you to fuck off,” Oscar said.

“Not directly, because I’d beat your ass when I see you,” Gabriel said, amusement heavy in his voice.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Even with only one hand, you don’t stand a chance against me.”

“Your fancy training isn’t going to help you.’

Oscar grunted. “Wow, would you look at the time? Sorry, Gabriel, I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting with the general.”

“Of the base? Why, what the hell did you do?”

“Oh, thank you, Gabriel, for the vote of confidence.”

“I mean, he’s got to be a busy man. Why would he want to speak to you directly?”

“Well, I guess I’m going to find out. And maybe I’ll find out why he sent the offer of a position.”

“A position he hasn’t actually described to you, but you took anyway.”

“That’s the one.”

“Well, call me and let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

He ended the call, giving one last glance at the box of pictures before closing it and heading out the door.

General Winter turnedout to be considerably younger than Oscar thought. Every other general he’d met had been older. Some had grown so used to life behind a desk they’d let themselves go.

Winter, however, was a man whose age was hard to nail down. He certainly hadn’t hit his fifties yet, but he could easily have been in his mid-thirties. He was a handsome enough man, Oscar supposed, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and close-cropped salt and pepper hair. The general also apparently believed in taking care of himself, filling out his uniform comfortably, not with fat, but muscle.