Page 55 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

Another voice called from the hallway. “He in there?”

Ethan grunted. “Don’t look like it. Must be staying at his girl’s place again.”

Another private, Cody, grew louder as he approached. “You think he’s hiding her because he wants her all to himself, or is she, like, that ugly?”

“Dude, I don’t know. But he’s not answering my texts either. Fine, if he wants to miss out on another night out, that’s on him, fuck it,” Ethan grunted, stomping out of the room.

Once the door was closed, Oscar listened intently to their fading conversation before releasing his hand from Troy’s mouth.

It wasn’t their first close call, but it was definitely the closest they’d come to being found out.

Christ, all it would have taken was a second longer reaction time on his and Troy’s part and Ethan to look in the direction of the bed as he’d entered.

Troy let out a shaky laugh. “Well, that was close.”

“Close? Troy, that was damn near busted,” Oscar hissed.

What the hell was it about Troy that made him lose his senses?

It wasn’t like Oscar hadn’t fucked other guys or even dated a few before.

Yet none of them had made him lose all self-control and throw caution to the wind like it was nothing, unlike Troy.

None of his previous relationships, serious or sexual, had brought him even close to being caught.

God, he couldn’t keep doing this.

Troy had always been flippant about their near misses, but he could afford to be.

Troy had been out long before signing up for the military.

He’d grown up in a decent neighborhood with loving parents and a liberal community at school.

Coming out for him was as easy as breathing for others, and he’d never had to worry about what being seen as outside the normal might mean for him and his well-being, unlike Oscar.

Being closeted had always been a matter of safety and security for Oscar.

The neighborhoods in Phoenix he used to roam around with his hooligan friends weren’t exactly the safest or the most accepting.

All it would have taken was the mere rumor that he was anything but into women, and Oscar’s life would have become utter hell.

No one, save for those few he’d been with over the years, knew of Oscar’s tastes, and that was exactly how he preferred it.

As he gazed up at the brightly lit building, flashing ‘Raid’ in huge neon letters, he wondered where his common sense and self-preservation had gone.

If there was anywhere known for serving strictly gay men, it was Raid.

He’d always avoided gay clubs and bars, not wanting to risk a straight best friend or even a gay or bi man who he hadn’t made sure would keep their mouth shut seeing him.

“This is stupid,” he told himself as he stood outside the doors at a distance that wouldn’t make him seem like a creep.

Something brushed his shoulder, and Oscar jerked back. A man only a few inches shorter than him, with streaks of green shot through his blond hair, looked up at him with a wide grin.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” the man said.

“You didn’t,” Oscar grunted.

“So, you gonna go in or just stand out here all by yourself?”

“Who said I wanted to go in?”

The man shrugged. “You’ve been looking at the sign the whole time I was walking up, so I figured?—”

Oscar scowled at him. “Well, you figured wrong.”

The man laughed, turning as he walked backward toward the door. “Well, if I was right, don’t be scared. No one in there bites unless you ask them to. And no one’s gonna care about the arm either. With a face like that, you’ll have plenty of men wanting to count every scar.”

Oscar growled at him again, which at least had the intended effect of ending the conversation.

He honestly hadn’t been thinking about his arm, and the mere thought had him drawing his left hand over to his right elbow, gripping it self-consciously.

Funny how normally, when he was out and about, he was hyper-aware of every stare and the possibility of comments, but he hadn’t tonight until the stranger said something.

He’d been so caught up in chiding himself for even daring to stand outside the bar that the thought of his maimed body hadn’t entered his head.

“Oh, fuck this,” Oscar muttered.

Either he was going to stand out there all night, or he was going to go in and see what there was to see. It was a Wednesday night, which meant the chances of the usual party crowd being out and about were low, and he could probably get away without anyone recognizing him.

As he slipped through the front doors, paying the fee to get in, he couldn’t help but think of Troy again.

The man had always been trying to get Oscar to go into such a place back when they’d dated, but Oscar had point-blank refused.

There were plenty of places, secluded or private, where they could enjoy themselves, far away from any eyes or ears that might be able to identify them, and Oscar had been happy with those.

The second set of doors opened into a wide, dimly lit space.

Oscar looked around, noticing the dance floor with steps leading down to it.

To his right was a sprawling bar, painted black and lit with neon lights.

Several people were already milling about the bar or near the tables, talking, and drinking, and a few were getting a little handsy.

Music thumped from the speakers, and though he’d heard louder, it was more than Oscar liked.

A few eyes turned to him as he stepped forward, looking to his left, where stairs led to a walkway.

Along the walkway were small recesses, the entrances lined with what looked like velvet curtains that could be closed to allow for privacy.

Oscar could only see into the nearest alcoves, where a table sat in the center of each, surrounded by cushioned benches.

There was enough room for half a dozen people or one frisky couple to sit comfortably in each.

Deciding he didn’t want anything to do with the semi-private rooms, Oscar headed to the bar. A wiry but well-muscled man in a black tank top bounced between customers as he approached. Oscar sidled up, more aware of his bulk and presence as he waited for the man’s attention.

The bartender finally slid over to him, raising his brow in question. “What can I get ya?”

Oscar opened his mouth to order his usual rum and Coke before remembering the pain pills he’d popped before heading out.

Grimacing, he ordered a perfectly safe glass of Coke instead.

Oscar barely had a moment to look around, shifting uncomfortably as he found a few eyes focused on him before the drink slid in front of him.

The bartender laughed as Oscar reached into his pants. “Don’t. Normally the first drink is free for newcomers.”

“Oh boy, a Coke,” Oscar said dryly.

“You could always order yourself a big boy drink.”

“Meds,” Oscar offered with an irritated shrug.

“Never stopped anyone before.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not an idiot.”

The bartender smirked but hurried away as a call came from the other end of the bar.

Oscar watched him go, wondering if he was losing his touch.

Even during Basic, people avoided too much contact with him, sensing a vibe from him that warded them off.

He looked down at his missing arm accusingly, wondering if perhaps people were just scared of a grumpy cripple.

A familiar face popped into view with a wide grin. “Well, look who decided to come in after all.”

Oscar stared at the green and yellow haired stranger. “Maybe I wanted a drink.”

“Yeah, not like there aren’t plenty of other places around here to get a drink. No, it’s gotta be this one, right?”

Oscar snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Well, yeah. Was kinda hoping that thing would be you, though.”

Oscar blinked, repressing his first urge to try and rip the man’s head off. He hated being hit on in public. Not only did he severely envy their willingness to live life so openly, but the last thing he needed was for even the slightest whiff of gay being misconstrued.

Oscar glowered at him. “If I’d wanted that, I would have taken you up on your not-so-subtle flirting outside.”

“You do know it’s okay in here, right?” the man asked.

“Yeah, and just because I might look lost and worried to you, and I’m a cripple, don’t mean you’re getting yourself some free ass,” Oscar shot back at him.

The man’s eyes widened, and he backed up with a frown. “Alright, fine, fuck you too.”

Oscar didn’t know what pissed him off more, the fact that the guy hadn’t left well enough alone or the fact that he’d shot the man down because he wasn’t in the mood.

How the hell could he even remotely entertain the idea of being with someone else when every other goddamn thought found its way back to Troy?

All it would take would be for Oscar to try his hand at a bit of fun, catch sight of some blond hair, and all interest in sex would fly out the window.

Growling at himself and the situation, he stepped away from the bar. Oscar’s eyes swept the crowd, gaze darting away whenever he caught someone looking back. Everyone seemed perfectly content with their conversations, drinks, or dancing on the floor of alternating lit tiles.

Careful to avoid the dance floor, Oscar wound his way toward the walkway where the alcoves lay.

Most of them were unoccupied, and those that were had a few people talking over drinks.

Oscar snorted as he caught sight of a couple in the middle alcove, who looked more like one writhing creature than two.

Oscar caught a glimpse of the back of a blond head as the man went in for another hungry kiss on his partner, seated at the rear of the booth.

Oscar turned his eyes back to the rest of the bar as his stomach dropped.

He froze, blinking as he tried to figure out why it felt as though someone had slapped him across the face with a bucket of ice-cold water.

His mind ratcheted into gear, a stutter at first, and then fury as his conscious mind caught up with what he’d just seen.

Whirling back, Oscar felt his stomach twist and become hard as rock. He didn’t need the blond-haired man’s face to turn toward him for Oscar to know exactly who was giving some strange man a taste of his tonsils.

Troy.

Oscar’s limbs felt heavy as he stared, witnessing Troy enjoy himself with a complete stranger.

Oscar had always known Troy was prone to casual fun, but thinking about it and seeing it were two very different things.

God, he’d told the man to move on, to have his fun, and to leave Oscar alone, but fuck, witnessing it brought bile to the back of his throat.

Anger and pain pulled at his chest as he watched Troy’s lips close around the man’s neck, oblivious to the audience a few feet away.

Oscar’s head pounded, aching with the same pain he felt in his heart, remembering what it had felt like to have Troy’s mouth on him.

A shudder ran through him, and Oscar forced himself to look away, feeling as though he had to rip his gaze from the two men.

Oscar set his glass on the railing nearby with a heavy, sluggish movement.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to tell himself it was what he wanted.

When a soft gasp somehow managed to slip between the beats of the music, however, Oscar felt an invisible hot blade slip into his guts.

Shaking his head, Oscar stomped away as quickly as his legs would take him without breaking into a full run.

He should have known that no matter what he did, he was bound to run into Troy.

After what they’d said to each other the last time, it was inevitable the same universe that saw fit to take his arm and cripple his hips would also make sure it would be at the worst time possible.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breaking out into the fresh air of the night.

He didn’t know where he was going, maybe back to his house or another bar where he could forget what he’d just seen. Maybe to the alley to throw up the Coke he’d just drunk.

Just anywhere else.