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“Well, I wasn’t sure until you just confirmed it, but not much else could put you in such a foul mood. And from the sounds of it, Sloane isn’t in a much better mood. So put two and two together, then convince you to tell me like I just did, andvoila, I have my answer.”

Dean eyed him. “Thank you for being such a great friend that you tricked the truth out of me.”

“Is it really tricking you? I mean, hell, you could have denied it. I think part of you wants to talk about it.”

Dean fidgeted. “I...it would be nice, but there’s a lot to it.”

Troy looked up at the clock and shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of time, and if it stays quiet, then we have all the time in the world.”

Dean snorted. “I don’t mean it’s just a long story, which it is. There’s a lot to the story, and I don’t think I have the strength to get through it all right now.”

Troy’s eyes widened. “It’sthatbad?”

“I don’t know,” Dean whispered.

Again, a flash of shame and pain flicked over Dean’s face that was gone in an instant. A thousand questions plagued Troy’s mind, and he held them back. For a long time he’d suspected there was something between Sloane and Dean, or more likely, considering Sloane’s tragic heterosexuality, just on Dean’s end. Troy had never asked, and Dean had never said, so he couldn’t be sure. But Troy wondered if that little tidbit finally came out into the open, it would shake things up a bit.

Dean looked askance at him, smirking. “I can hear you thinking.”

“You cannot.”

“Can too. And I can smell the smoke.”

Troy huffed. “That’s rude.”

“Fits with the mood I’ve been in, right?”

Troy rolled his eyes. “So, while I oh so casually respect that you don’t want to talk about what’s going on, will you at least tell me what took the edge off? You’re obviously not ready to keep ripping limbs off.”

Dean laughed. “Marco stopped by earlier while you were with Simmons.”

“Oh, I see. Boyfriend talked you off the ledge, then?”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Don’t push it. And nothing is official between us.”

Troy held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, then your not boyfriend came by and talked you off the ledge.”

Dean picked up a pen from the desk and chucked it at Troy. “You’re the worst comfort in trying times.”

“To be fair, I never claimed to be.”

It was enough to see the amusement light up his friend’s eyes again, so Troy was willing to accept the improvised weapon tossed at him. Maybe he couldn’t help Dean by talking it through, but hey, a smile was good.

Dean leaned back in his chair. “But what about you?”

Troy blinked. “What about me what?”

“When are you going to get yourself a not boyfriend?”

Troy laughed. “I think I’ve had plenty of those already.”

“I don’t think your hook-ups fall into that category unless you’re trying to say Marco and I are just a hook-up.”

“Ooh, is that a trap I smell?”

“Better than the smell of lube and booze, which I’m sure you’re more than used to.”

Troy’s mouth fell open, and he chucked the pen back at Dean. “I can’t believe you just called me a slut!”