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Oscar grunted. “Less to do.”

“And not enough trouble, so they have to make their own,” Troy finished.

Oscar opened his mouth before he heard a sharp voice cut through the din. From the sound of the owner, they were not toohappy about the gaggle of soldiers who’d stumbled through the door, particularly considering they’d apparently brought their alcohol with them. Oscar winced as he heard one of the drunken men whine, complaining there was nowhere else to put it. Sure enough, the angry voice replied in kind, taking no shit in the way only a Doc could.

Troy grimaced, glancing back at Oscar. “I should probably go help. Whether it’s Dean I’m helping or the poor dumb drunken bastards who are quickly getting on his bad side, I don’t know yet.”

Oscar snorted. “Dumbasses.”

“Yeah, but they’re our dumbasses when they come through the door. You wouldn’t think someone like little ol’ Dean could strike the fear of God into them, but you’d be wrong.”

Oscar shook his head. “I’ve seen you in action. I think not being afraid of anyone, no matter who they are, is just part of being a medic.”

Troy winked at him. “It’s what you love about me.”

Oscar almost fired back in a way that would have refused to admit Troy was right but not saying he was wrong. A good deal of their relationship’s banter had been Oscar knowing full well he loved how little of his own shit Troy would put up with while trying to find ways not to own up to it. What bothered him more, much like the kiss and their brief intimate touch, was how easy it was for him to fall back into old habits.

Troy chuckled, stepping half out of the room. “Go get some rest, Oscar. Everything will feel better in the morning. We can talk later.”

Troy’s predictionhad turned out not to be in the slightest bit accurate.

Oscar woke up the following morning, his mind lurching into full-blown confusion and anxiety before he had the chance to think. Sitting up in bed, he brought his left hand to his chest, feeling the constriction of stress and worry rise.

“Shit, Troy,” he muttered, the man’s face flashing into his head.

God, he’d kissed him again. He’d reached out, taken hold of him, and drawn him in close until their lips met like they had so many times years before. Despite six years having passed, nothing had changed about the feel of Troy’s lips against his. Troy had grown an extra inch or two, maybe put on a little more muscle, but kissing him the night before had been a blast from the past.

Letting out a deep sigh, Oscar pushed out of bed and headed for the shower. During months without his arm, he’d learned how to go about his morning routine without much struggle, though his hip was smarting again after walking around all night. He knocked back a couple of pain pills before brushing his teeth, hoping they’d take the edge off for the rest of the day.

His head still felt stuffed to the gills as he walked across the base and into the office. Christian was already hard at work, typing away at his computer and chatting with someone on the phone. Oscar took his seat, unlocking his computer and trying to find something to lose himself in to distract him from his thoughts.

“You in there?” came Christian’s voice after several minutes, jerking Oscar from his thoughts.

He looked up, bewildered. “Huh?”

Christian snorted. “Been trying to get your attention for a bit. You okay?”

Oscar nodded. “Just got a lot on my mind, is all. I’m okay.”

“You should try getting more sleep. You look like hell,” Christian noted.

“Thanks.”

Christian chuckled. “Anytime. You think you’ll be able to focus for a bit?”

Oscar looked at his screen as though to protest and realized he was looking at chaos. He’d been absentmindedly opening emails and memos but hadn’t done more than look over them mindlessly. His brain had been running over the past twenty-four hours, so much that he’d done virtually nothing for the past half hour.

Oscar winced. “Yeah, sorry. You got something specific for me?”

“How do you feel about sorting through some old crap and getting rid of what we don’t need in the system anymore?”

“That would be fine if I had any idea what should stay and what shouldn’t,” Oscar admitted.

“And that’s why you have me here,” Christian said with a grin.

The other man hopped up, quickly leading Oscar to where he needed to go. Oscar was thankful to have something, anything at all, to distract him from his thoughts. To pull him away from the desire to find Troy after his shift was over, to continue what he’d started the night before.

Although he didn’t need his inability to focus on his job as an example of why he needed to stay as far from Troy as possible, it certainly helped. His time with Troy had been wonderful, life-altering, and had changed everything Oscar once believed about himself and about love. It was the first functional relationship Oscar had ever had with someone who wasn’t his brother, and it was far too easy to love Troy.