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Gabriel leaned back, opening his hands. “Just, what, not actually dating them, just pretending?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Oscar muttered.

It’s not like he hadn’t tried to be with the girls he’d dated. Oscar had gone through the motions, taking them out, being intimate with them when he could bring himself to do it, just about anything he could think of to give the illusion he was interested in them. At the end of the day, though, Oscar had never felt aroused by the sight of a woman’s body, never felt that thrill of pleasure when he felt their skin brush against him. But the first time he’d ever had a man in his bed, Oscar had realized what he’d been missing.

“So this has been going on for a while then, this isn’t just...some new thing that came up recently,” Gabriel continued.

“No,” Oscar said softly.

Gabriel let out a brittle laugh. “You...that’s what the phone call was about, wasn’t it? You weren’t talking about some girl, were you? You were talking about him.”

Oscar closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“The same one you were involved with years ago. The one you dated for a year and were maybe in love with? So you were involved with this guy, head over heels for him, and you kept that from me? You kept all this from me. Seriously, Oscar?”

His brother’s rising voice, volume and pitch, had Oscar cringing against the back of the chair. What little hope he might have had about this conversation not going straight to hell was dwindling to nothing as his brother continued.

“Fuck’s sake Oscar. I’ve known you your whole life. I mean, hell, Iraisedyou. And you didn’t think this was something you should have brought up? I get not talking about what happened to you while you were out in the desert. I get keeping the blood and death and pain to yourself, butshit,Oscar.”

“I’m sorry,” Oscar said, not knowing what else to say.

Gabriel’s blazing eyes tipped upward, looking over Oscar’s shoulder, and his words faltered. Oscar turned to follow his brother’s gaze and tensed when he saw Troy standing in the doorway. Troy’s eyes moved slowly between them, his mouth a thin, downturned line.

“Troy?” Oscar asked hoarsely.

Troy’s expression never changed. “I’m going to head out. Let you guys have some privacy to deal with this, okay?”

Oscar frowned, watching Troy as the man turned without another word and headed toward the door. While he appreciated Troy’s willingness to let Oscar deal with this problem on his own, he hated knowing he wouldn’t have Troy with him when the bombs were done dropping. He silently watched as Troy slipped his boots on, absently checking his pockets for his keys before opening the door and stepping out.

Before Troy closed the door, he turned and looked back into the apartment, locking eyes with Oscar. Time seemed to freeze, and Oscar remembered the night he’d left Troy’s apartment six years before. Back then, there had been rage and pain, but the Troy of the modern-day only looked distraught and utterly hopeless. Troy’s bright blue eyes were dull and full of despair, disappearing only when Troy closed the door.

“Troy,” Oscar whispered.

Gabriel grunted. “Oscar, we’re talking here.”

Oscar’s heart thumped as he continued staring at the door. He realized then that his normally understanding brother’s patience was draining fast. Oscar’s stomach clenched as herealized that Troy’s face as he walked away hadn’t shown understanding, not in the true sense. It had shown utter defeat, the look of a man who had watched his dream nearly come true before finally being torn away at the last second.

It had been Troy’s goodbye.

“Shit,” Oscar hissed, pushing off the chair and making for the door.

“Oscar!” Gabriel called after him.

“Just wait there,” Oscar snapped.

Stiff from sleep and his medication having worn off, his pacing down the steps was stilted and painful. Grunting as he hit the landing, Oscar made his way outside toward the parking lot. Looking around frantically, he tried to spot Troy’s blond head as he hobbled toward the sidewalk. His heart leaped in his chest as he spotted a moving vehicle coming around the corner and heading toward the parking lot's exit.

Without hesitating, Oscar limped his way into the path of the car. Troy’s car came to a stop before he hit Oscar. Letting out a breath of relief, Oscar made his way around to stand at the driver’s side window. Troy looked up at him, a muted version of the distraught expression on his face as he rolled down the window.

“Don’t,” Oscar said hurriedly.

Troy smiled sadly. “It’s okay, Oscar. I’m just...getting out of your hair.”

Oscar leaned onto the car to get closer to Troy and to take some pressure off his hip. “No, you’re not. You’re taking off. I know what a final glance as you go out the door looks like, Troy, I’ve done it.”

Troy snorted softly. “I guess you do.”

“And I don’t want you doing it.”