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“You really thought there was something going on between us?” Dean asked.

Troy screwed up his face, making a show of giving it some real evaluation, but he already knew he was going to lie. Dean was a good man and did his best by other people, but he could be prickly where his pride was concerned. He thought Dean would be horrified if he knew Troy suspected Dean’s feelings for his best friend.

“Weird, but not on your end. On his, though? Yeah, I have.”

“You thought the straight guy had something going for me?” Dean asked incredulously.

Troy shrugged. “Call it a hunch, idle fantasy, I don’t know.”

Dean rolled his eyes, jabbing Troy with the plastic fork. “Now, we’re getting into your weird fantasies. Time to call this meeting to an end.”

“Hey,” Troy yelped, wiping the smear off his uniform.

A deep voice cleared their throat behind them, and both medics turned around to face the noise. Troy’s expression froze, his throat tightening as he saw the towering man waiting for them in the office doorway.

It had been six years, and time had changed both of them, but Troy would know him anywhere.

Oscar Reyes.

Oscar was looking at Dean. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Troy’s heart hammered, and in a brief moment of lucidity, he was glad he was sitting down. He supposed he knew deep down there might be a chance he would run into Oscar again, but as time passed, Troy had convinced himself it would never happen. Yet here he was, the only man Troy had ever loved in all his twenty-five years, looking tall, strong, and not having noticed Troy.

“Oscar?” Troy asked, his voice cracking.

Oscar’s gaze darted to Troy’s face, and for a moment, shock widened Oscar’s dark eyes. A moment later, the surprise was gone, replaced by a serious expression Troy knew all too well. The flash of emotion, the burial of any weakness, and the stoic expression brought bittersweet pangs of nostalgia for Troy, and an ache he thought he’d left behind rose again.

“Yeah. Hi, Troy,” Oscar said, voice so neutral it sounded unnatural to Troy’s ears.

“You two know each other?” Dean asked him, brow high.

Troy had forgotten Dean, ripping his stare away to face his friend. “Knew.”

“General Winter told me I needed to come here for a check-up before going on duty,” Oscar explained, voice tight.

Dean jabbed the fork in Troy’s direction. “He’ll get you all set up and checked.”

Troy barely managed to keep himself from spluttering. “What?”

Dean held up his food. “I’m on lunch.”

“That I bought you!” Troy protested.

“And I’m so grateful that I want to finish it before it gets cold,” Dean shot back.

That little shit.

“You…” Troy began.

“I know,” Dean said with a wink.

Troy couldn’t muster the energy to hold his glare, turning to face Oscar, who still stood in the doorway, his face taut. Troy grimaced, pushing out of his chair, resigned to his fate. Grabbing his tablet, he motioned for Oscar to enter the hallway. Troy regretted that choice a moment later when he had to squeeze between Oscar and the door. Troy’s breath caught as he pushed between the wood frame and Oscar’s rock-hard body, the man’s cologne filling his nostrils and flooding his memory.

“Areyou ever going to tell me what you wear for cologne?” Troy asked, flopping onto his side to watch Oscar as he slid out of bed.

Oscar snorted. “Nope.”

“Why?”