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Dean rolled his eyes. “Save your jokes for the patients, Troy. Excuse me.”

Troy watched him go, worrying his bottom lip as he wondered what the hell was eating at his friend. Dean usually tolerated Troy’s attempts at playful humor, pretending to be annoyed rather than genuinely frustrated. Troy strongly suspected Dean’s new mood was due to the man’s new beau, Marco, or his long-time best friend, Sloane.

Simmons turned to Troy with wide eyes. “Shit, what’s wrong with Doc?”

Troy winced. “Um, he’s been like that for about a week now, don’t mind him.”

Simmons sighed, shaking his head. “Fuck, man, Sloane almost took my head off today when I asked him what time he got off his shift. Think that’s got anything to do with it?”

Well, that certainly explained a lot. If anyone could cause Dean to spiral into a foul mood, it would be Sloane. The two were inseparable, and while Troy didn’t quite get the bond between them, he could see how close they were. Troy couldn’t recall a time when Dean and Sloane had fought, but he suspected that was exactly what was happening.

At the end of the hallway, a clatter of chair wheels on the tiles announced Dean’s presence. “I think the two of you should stop gossiping and get back to what you’re here for in the first place. How about that?”

Lord Jesus, he was going to have to talk to Dean. As much as Troy didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Doc’s bad attitude, they couldn’t have him snapping at everyone who came in.

Troy pushed Simmons toward one of the rooms. “Right, get your ass in there before you get us both killed.”

“Man, no one seems to like questions around here,” Simmons grumbled, allowing himself to be pushed.

Troy pulled the curtain closed and pointed toward the examination table. “Just...don’t.”

“Are him and Sloane fighting?” Simmons asked as he hopped onto the table.

Troy checked the private’s file once more and grunted. “Ah, you work at the guardhouse with Sloane.”

“Yeah, and he’s been a bear.”

“And how’s that different from any other day?”

Private Simmons snorted. “I’ve been working with him long enough to know when Sloane is being Sloane and when he’sroyally pissed off. Thing is, he doesn’t, and don’t tell him I said this, but he seems kinda sad, actually.”

Troy smirked. “Well, how about you do us both a favor and let them sort out whatever’s going on? They’ve been friends for longer than you’ve been out of high school, and I don’t think anything will stop that.”

“You think?”

“Those two are more stuck on one another than white on rice. Just keep your head down and mind your business. Speaking of, what are you here for?”

John shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the corner of the exam table. “I, uh, wanted to get checked.”

Troy nodded. “Okay, for?”

“Sexual stuff.”

“I’m going to assume you mean an STI check,” Troy said.

Simmons winced. “Yeah.”

Troy tapped the screen, opening up a new addition to the folder. “Have you been exposed?”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“Unprotected sex, shared a needle, swapped blood with someone, things like that.”

John’s eyes widened. “I mean...I had sex, but it was...I wasn’t dumb.”

“Just a precaution then,” Troy said.

John looked at his lap, cheeks flushing. “I met someone, and it’s getting serious, real serious. I want to...well, you know, be able to go without protection one day if we’re going to be a couple.”