Page 19 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

That was until he’d laid eyes on the propped-up paper on the bedside table, with the familiar handwriting on the front.

It’s okay. Read this.

Sorry, I didn’t wake you. You were sleeping so good, I couldn’t. Sorry to leave you, but I had to get to my shift. Otherwise, I would have stayed.

I promise I’m not running or hiding. Last night was wonderful, and it’s given me so much to think about. I’ll be back after my shift is over, I swear. We’ll sit down and talk about this. There’s so much I want to say.

I’ll be back,

Sloane.

It was more than Dean could have hoped for, but not quite enough. Sloane had promised he’d be back, which was enough to quell the worst of Dean’s terrors. Yet, he hadn’t said anything more than that.

Did it mean Sloane had enjoyed himself but wanted nothing more? Had it been enough for Sloane not to hate Dean, but he was still backing away? He might still lose his friend, which was the greatest terror Dean possessed.

Dean shook his head, knowing he was making no sense but unable to stop himself.

At the root of everything was the terror that he would lose Sloane.

Even if the night had been the realization of his greatest fantasies and hopes, Dean would gladly give it all away so long as he had Sloane in his life.

To lose Sloane as a lover, as a boyfriend, as a potential husband, Dean could live with.

Even though he had come so much closer than ever, he could deal with losing the chance at something more.

But to lose Sloane completely.

Dean closed his arms around his middle, shaking his head slowly.

If Sloane were going to leave forever, he would have done so without leaving a note.

It was too easy to listen to the voice inside him that told him Sloane was just being nice, but that wasn’t fair.

Sloane deserved better than that, and Dean knew, in his heart of hearts, Sloane would never do anything just to spare his feelings.

Initially, Sloane had put him off with how blunt and short he was, yet Dean had come to appreciate that part of his friend.

Sloane might not have tact, but Dean had always known where Sloane stood.

Sure, the man might hide behind a wall of grumpiness and coarse language, but at the end of the day, Dean knew how Sloane truly felt, and he never had to feel that Sloane was lying to him to spare his feelings.

And he wasn’t going to start now.

Easier said than done, but Dean shook his head as the darker thoughts crowded into his brain.

Rather than give them attention, Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He wasn’t sure when Sloane was getting off his shift, as it could change daily, but six seemed like a safe time.

Dean wanted to be back in time to find Sloane there as per his promise, and since it was fifteen minutes away from that time, he slid off the rock he was sitting on.

“Here we go,” Dean muttered as he made his way back.

Stepping through his door, Dean stopped. A pair of huge but familiar boots sat beside the door. Sloane always made his boots sit so meticulously, even placing the laces on the insides to ensure they weren’t tripped over. The realization that the man was in the house sent Dean’s heart fluttering.

Swallowing hard, Dean closed the door, dropping his keys in the bowl.

Not bothering to take his shoes off, he stepped further into his apartment, listening for sounds of life.

He stopped at the doorway to the living room, spotting a huge shape on the couch.

The blinds of the glass sliding door had been drawn, but Dean could see Sloane’s outline.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he realized Sloane was out cold.

For a moment, Dean wondered how long Sloane had been there before remembering how easily Sloane could drop off.

It was a skill Dean had learned to master during his deployment, taking sleep where he could, but he wasn’t quite as good at it off the field.

Sloane had always joked that he’d learned it long before joining the military, and Basic had honed the skill to a whole new level.

Dean stepped closer, careful not to make any sudden noise and startle Sloane awake.

Smiling, he reached down, adjusting the collar of Sloane’s shirt so it wasn’t bound around his neck quite as tightly.

Dean had always teased Sloane that he looked so much less grumpy when sleeping, but honestly, Dean never thought Sloane looked all that mean.

To him, Sloane was Sloane, and his handsome features, awake or asleep, eased an ache in Dean’s chest every time.

Content to let Sloane rest, Dean carefully ran his fingers over Sloane’s arm before retreating to his room.

His nerves tightened when Sloane’s hand closed around his wrist, startling him with the sudden movement.

In an instant, his tension evaporated as Sloane’s sleepy face peered up at him, smiling.

“Hey,” Sloane croaked, his fingers stroking Dean’s skin.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Dean whispered.

Sloane shook his head. “I was only catching a bit of sleep while waiting for you.”

“You could have texted me,” Dean said.

Sloane chuckled, releasing Dean’s hand so he could stretch. “I didn’t mind waiting.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to where Sloane’s shirt rode up, showing his flat stomach and the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistline.

It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself doing it, and there was still that instinctive curl of discomfort at checking his friend out.

What was new was the realization that he’d had his hands all over that part of Sloane’s body and elsewhere.

Despite years of telling himself to be careful, not to be obvious, and to keep it quiet, Dean let his eyes linger on Sloane a moment longer before looking at his face again.

Sloane raised a brow, smirking. “Yeah?”

Dean ducked his head. “Sorry.”

Sloane chuckled, reaching to take hold of Dean’s wrist again. “Don’t be. I kind of like it.”

Dean looked up. “Yeah?”

Sloane pulled him close until Dean had no choice but to plop down on the small space left on the edge of the couch.

Sloane’s body pressed against his back, warm and relaxed from his nap.

So close, Dean could smell Sloane’s woodsy cologne, hinting of rich wood and fertile land, with just a dash of something spicy and enticing.

He’d always loved that smell, but having smelled it while Sloane thrust deep inside him made the scent so much more appealing.

Sloane smiled, shifting his grip to hold Dean’s hand. “That surprise you?”

“It doesn’t you?” Dean asked incredulously.

“I’ve never believed in lying to you, Dean, so I won’t tell you it isn’t a little weird for me.”

Dean nodded, not surprised but hating the sinking feeling in his gut.

Despite everything that had happened between him and Sloane, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Sloane was straight, of course. The idea of being checked out by a guy, having slept with a guy, and everything else would be weird.

Sloane watched his face, still smiling gently. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?” Dean asked.

Sloane snorted. “Did it make sense for you to have been into me all this time?”

Dean frowned. “I never said it made sense.”

Sloane shook his head. “Look, I didn’t mean anything against you.

I just meant sometimes, we feel things that don’t make sense, but they are what they are, right?

It didn’t make sense for you to feel the way you did about me all that time, but you did.

Maybe you felt that way for a reason because you sensed something I didn’t even think could exist, or maybe hearts simply do what they want, and we’ve got to deal with the mess they make. ”

Dean nodded slowly, understanding Sloane even as he smiled at the realization that his friend was babbling.

Sloane had never been good at expressing himself verbally, which was probably why the physical affection element of their friendship had always been the strongest. Sloane didn’t consider himself a good speaker, but he could get his point across by hugging Dean or letting Dean lay his head in Sloane’s lap.

“My point is, yeah, this is a little weird for me. Of course, it is. You know I tried watching gay porn after...the whole blowjob thing?” Sloane asked, averting his eyes.

Dean couldn’t help his snort. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I tried a few videos, including a couple I don’t want to discuss. Didn’t do anything for me.”

“Well, you’re not gay,” Dean said, proud of himself for keeping his voice free of sadness or worry.

Sloane nodded. “I mean, those videos did nothing, not even a twitch from my dick. The minute I started thinking about you giving me a blowjob, though, I was hard in two seconds flat.”

Dean blinked. “You got hard from that?”

“Got more than hard.”

It took a minute before Dean understood what he meant. “You...jerked off to that memory?”

Sloane shrugged. “It was a good blowjob.”

Dean looked down at their joined hands, sorting through his thoughts.

On the one hand, it was incredibly hot to think that Sloane had pleasured himself to the memory of Dean’s impulsive, drunken blowjob.

On the other hand, it was also bizarre to think that Sloane, a man Dean knew to be nothing but straight, had been aroused and got off to the thought of a guy, Dean specifically, blowing him.

Dean gave a low chuckle. “Alright, I’m starting to get the weirdness here now, too.”

“Right? I can watch different dudes go at it and feel nothing. I mean, I can see a dude who’s good-looking and know he’s good-looking, but it doesn’t do anything for me. But I remembered that night, and I was ready to go. And last night? Jesus, Dean, that was...it was?—”

Dean looked up, unable to stop himself from worrying his bottom lip as he waited for Sloane to find what he wanted to say.

Whatever came out of Sloane’s mouth next would determine where they were headed.

Despite everything they’d done so far, Dean couldn’t shake the dread that it was all for nothing.

That, in the end, despite how much ‘fun’ Sloane had, he would back away from it all, and they’d continue their lives as they had before.

Sloane reached behind him, flicking on the lamp beside the couch. Dean winced against the sudden glare, waiting till he could see better before opening his eyes fully. Sloane looked him over with the strangest expression, both hungry and awed.

“What?” Dean asked self-consciously.

“None of those guys did it, but just sitting here, looking at you, touching you gets my brain going all over again. I’ve always liked being close to you and touching you, and maybe that was a sign.

I didn’t realize what that touch could be until last night.

Because last night was just...fucking amazing, Dean. ”

Dean felt heat rise in his cheeks. “I’m not arguing, but?—”

“I don’t know what that makes me or if it makes me anything. Maybe I’m straight for everyone else but you?”

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “Sounds, uh, too good to be true.”

Sloane cocked his head, gaze going soft. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do,” Dean was quick to assure him.

“I wouldn’t say this to make you feel better.”

Dean shook his head, knowing that was true. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“And I’m not going to say shit like this unless I’m sure. One hundred percent sure.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped. “I know.”

“It might be weird because I never saw it coming, but you know what’s weirdest about it?”

“That I have a dick?” Dean offered with a light, jittery laugh.

“You’d think that, but no, dude, you not having boobs, having a lot more body hair than I’m used to, and being all muscle doesn’t bother me.

It’s you , why would it bother me? And that’s the weird thing.

This doesn’t feel much different from what we were doing before.

You’ve always been you, and I like you for you.

Now, I just happen to like you in a different way.

I don’t think anyone but you could have made me feel like this about them. ”

Dean’s stuttering heart slowed, and his muscles relaxed as the full effect of Sloane’s words washed over him. The backs of his eyes pricked, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he took in the softness of Sloane’s gaze.

“Really?” Dean croaked.

“And I’m pretty sure I was jealous of Marco.”

That jerked a snort from Dean. “Seriously?”

Sloane wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him closer.

“Yeah, really. Didn’t feel like it at the time, but I don’t think I liked him being with you.

But this, this holding you thing? It feels right like it always has.

And last night? That was the extra step with what we’ve been doing.

It all feels right, and my brain thinks that’s weird, but my heart knows it’s right. ”

Dean had always known Sloane had a sentimental streak that stretched far wider than the man was willing to admit.

Usually, Dean would make a joke, and Sloane would tease him back, and they would continue their lives.

But, held in Sloane’s arms, knowing the words were genuine and aimed directly at him, Dean found himself at a loss for words.

Sloane searched his face. “I know it will take a little time for us to get over the weirdness, and there’s still things to work through.

But while I might not have everything figured out, I know that if you’ll have me, I want to be with you.

I want you. Everything you’re willing to give, I want, and everything I’ve got, it’s yours. ”

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered, feeling lightheaded.

“Is that a yes?” Sloane asked.

“Fuck, yes. That’s a yes,” Dean said in a rush.

Sloane’s face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled Dean toward him.

Dean’s heart caught in his throat as, without even the slightest hesitation, Sloane pulled him into a deep kiss.

Heat radiated out from Dean’s chest, washing through him and flaring into bright points of sheer pleasure where his body pressed against Sloane’s.

He clutched onto Sloane, desperate to feel the reassurance, the reality that his dreams had finally come true.

“Mine,” Sloane whispered, stroking his hand through Dean’s hair.

“Yours.”