Page 16

He did that enough in his dreams.

Fumbling with one of the drawers, Dean pulled out a towel, crouching to clean up the mess. While he and Sloane had been deployed to the same desolate stretch of rocks and sand, they had been assigned to different units. Dean had found himself loaned out to a special tactics group and had been forced to keep his mouth shut whenever he and Sloane ran into one another in the field. Sloane’s deployment had ended a few months before Dean’s, and fittingly, that was when everything had gone to hell.

Dean looked up from the floor and winced when he saw Sloane still looking down at him. Sloane knew something had happened in the few months after they’d last seen one another, but Dean had kept his peace. Sloane thought Dean was respecting his orders to keep his mouth shut, which boiled down to feelings that Dean didn’t trust him.

Clearing his throat, Dean wrung the towel out in the sink. “There’s more than enough in the pot for you to have some if you want.”

Sloane grunted, stepping around the counter to retrieve a cup from the cabinet overhead. Dean rinsed the towel out, letting the pleasant, mundane sounds of running water and the gurgle of coffee poured into a mug wash over him. The sounds and smells of a normal life, where he was safe, where death wasn’t lurking around every corner, were far more pleasant than the memories pushing at the edges of his mind.

A presence pushed itself up behind him, and Dean stiffened in surprise. The lingering scent of Sloane’s woodsy cologne filled his nostrils, and the tension in Dean’s shoulders eased. Sloane pressed his forehead against the side of Dean’s head and held it there. They said nothing as Dean stood at the sink with a wet rag in his hand, soaking in the warmth and comfort of his friend.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane stepped away. “How much time do you have?”

Dean flipped the faucet off, squeezing the rag. “I’m doing alright.”

“What? No rushing off because you’re going to be late?” Sloane asked wryly.

Dean turned, swatting Sloane lazily with the towel. “Quit.”

Sloane wrinkled his nose, wiping at the damp spot on his hip. “You’re the one who can’t keep track of time.”

“I do just fine.” Dean sniffed as he set the rag over the faucet.

“Only because you’ve kept working out,” Sloane said with a sip of his coffee.

Dean refilled his cup. “I like to think the occasional morning rush is as good at waking me up as drinking a whole pot of coffee.”

Sloane eyed him over the rim of his cup for a moment longer before reaching down and picking up his phone. Dean watched him quietly, only then becoming aware of Sloane's state. Though his hair was too short to be disheveled, Sloane looked sleepy-eyed, with thick stubble on his jaw, and his voice was still rough from having just woken up. He hadn’t bothered to do more than throw on a pair of shorts before stepping into the kitchen.

Still sleepy and a little raw from his overreaction, Dean scanned Sloane’s body as the man tapped away at his phone. Sloane was just as fastidious about keeping up with his workout routine as Dean, though the results were more obvious. Sloane’s chest was solid muscle, and his stomach was flat, with the faintest hint of sculpted lines. It didn’t help that Sloane’s body had a healthy layer of dark hair, just enough to send Dean’s heart racing with anticipation but not so much that he couldn’t see the skin beneath it.

Sloane chuckled. “And just like that, she’s onto the next.”

Dean jerked guiltily. “What?”

“Shawna. She was losing her mind over some boy the other day, and now she’s telling me about some new boy she met while watching a movie with friends.”

Dean focused his attention on Sloane’s face, snorting. “What did you expect? She could never focus on anything for too long. Remember her salsa lessons?”

Sloane rolled his eyes. “Yoga.”

“Meditation.”

“Knitting.”

“Photography.”

Sloane sighed. “Nothing will compare to when she decided to take up tap dancing. That was before I shipped out for basic, and I don’t think my mom has managed to get the scuffs out of the floor since.”

Dean laughed. “My mother would have had a fit if I tried to do something like that.”

“That because it was a girl thing to do, or because you would’ve ruined her floors?”

“The latter. She never really gave a shit when she found out I was gay. My father said something about how that was the ‘college’ thing to do and then just shrugged when I reminded him I was going into the service.”

“They’re probably betting you’ll get out and go to school.”

Dean shrugged. “Probably, but I’ve already renewed once, and I don’t see any reason not to again.”