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Dean couldn’t even summon the energy to be mad at Sloane for that anymore. His friend had been taken so off-guard, no mean feat considering Sloane was pretty steady, and the realization that Dean had been keeping something from him hadstung. Sloane might not want to admit it, but Dean knew his friend, and the man would have taken Dean keeping secrets as not just an insult, but he would have felt snubbed.

And looking back on it, Dean couldn’t blame him.

Dean looked up again, shaking his head. “What are you doing here?”

Marco chuckled, walking forward to sit on the edge of Dean’s desk. “Well, like I said, after you were quiet yesterday, I grew concerned. You’ve been trying to look like you’re okay, but you’re obviously not.”

It didn’t help that Dean hadn’t told Marco what had driven Dean from Sloane’s apartment. Just as Dean had found it too hard to tell Sloane about Marco, he point-blank refused to tell Marco about his feelings for Sloane, especially because they were still present, even though he was trying his hardest to move past them.

When did he become hellbent on holding on to so many secrets from those he cared about?

Marco took Dean’s hand gently in his, squeezing it. “Have you thought about talking to him?”

Dean looked down at his phone. “I’ve tried to text him a dozen times and deleted them halfway. I dial his number and immediately hang up.”

“Here’s a thought. Have you tried just simply finding Sloane and talking to him face to face?”

Dean had, but the idea made his already upset stomach do flips non-stop. What exactly was he supposed to say to Sloane? Dean had dumped the reality of his true feelings in the man’s lap without even the benefit of tact as a buffer. Everything Dean had felt, anguished over and held tight within himself, had spilled forth. Dean knew the phrase about dams bursting, but never had he felt such a torrent of emotions pour from him before, and he still didn’t know what to think about it.

Sloane couldn’t have been in a better place over it, either. The shock on Sloane’s face was burned into Dean’s memory. His friend had never known, never suspected, and it had struck him like a sucker punch. How exactly was Dean supposed to face him after that?

“Considered it, but then I also considered finding a big rock and living under it for the rest of my life.”

Marco’s mouth twitched. “My little hermit crab.”

Dean smiled but couldn’t think what to add to the endearment that wasn’t depressing. He thought he’d spent enough time scuttling through the sand to last a lifetime. Images of towering mountains of sand, interspersed with sunbaked stretches of dirt, rose in his mind. Dean took a deep breath, focusing on the sharp smell of antiseptic and the rich scent of food sitting in front of him before his mind went from desolate sands to blood and screaming.

“Dean?” Marco asked worriedly.

Dean gave him a light squeeze, smiling. “Just thinking a little too hard, sorry.”

He wasn’t Marco’s, any more than the other man was his. The night Sloane had stumbled across them, Dean had finally been trying to find the courage to make whatever he and Marco had more official. It would have been nice to say he had a boyfriend, but the sudden presence and fallout of his best friend finding them had shot that in the face. Now, he couldn’t summon the energy to take that last step with Marco.

Dean closed his eyes, promising that when he’d settled things with Sloane, he would ask Marco to be his boyfriend.

“Look,” Marco began.

Dean’s eyes snapped open, eyeing him warily. “Please tell me you’re not about to tell me we should just be friends.”

Marco hesitated for the briefest of moments before shaking his head. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I can handle anything else being thrown at me right now...shit, wait, that’s not fair to you, is it?”

Marco hopped off the desk and knelt before Dean. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not ending things or walking away, alright? Unless you choose to walk away, or there’s a very good reason for me...to step aside, I’m not going to, alright.”

Dean tilted his head, slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“I was going to say that maybe you should talk to Sloane. I bet he’s just as miserable as you are right now.”

Dean thought about what he’d heard Simmons muttering to Troy and sighed. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear that Sloane was more surly than usual. Sloane had always been a little bad-tempered, but if he was grumpy enough that someone who worked with him regularly commented on it, Sloane must have been spitting nails.

“And what if he’s still mad?” Dean asked, fearing it might be even worse than just mad.

“I don’t think he was mad in the first place. Do you?”

“No, God, it sounds so childish, but I think I hurt his feelings.”

Marco winked. “You’re never too old to get your feelings hurt, Dean. And before you get that guilty look on your face, sometimes you hurt someone’s feelings without meaning to. No one’s perfect, and let’s be honest, it’s true what they say. We always hurt the ones we love the most.”