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The next morning, Sloane took the news of Wolf breaking in again as well as could be expected. He called Sparks up, swore like a drunken sailor, and then beat the shit out of the trash can after taking it outside. He bent it back into shape—a somewhat Tetris-piece-looking shape—then stomped up the front steps, stopping on the top stoop where Dex stood in his stormtrooper bathrobe and Monty Python killer rabbit slippers, sipping his coffee. He kissed Dex’s cheek, the whole thing feeling so wonderfully domestic.

Domesticity wasn’t for everyone, and there were those who sneered at it, but for them it was precious. While Dex loved being part of a family, having always been surrounded by people he loved who loved him in return, Sloane had never had that. He’d tragically lost his parents at a young age and had yearned for a family since. It hadn’t taken Sloane nearly as long to settle in to their home life together as Dex thought it would. Instead of fighting it, Sloane embraced it. When people looked at Sloane, especially on the job, few believed he was the type of guy to look forward to coming home to dinner with his boyfriend and a cozy night in. Or that he enjoyed going to the grocery store, wasn’t put off by chores around the house, or changing the oil in Dex’s car because Dex was feeling too lazy to do it. Ash teased Sloane, but Sloane just smiled and shrugged it off. He was enjoying himself too much to care what anyone thought. It was what he’d always wanted. Dex could see it in his face. With a smile, Sloane wrapped an arm around Dex’s waist.

“We need a new trash can.”

“I noticed,” Dex replied, amused. He waved at the tiny old lady scowling at them as she walked by with her tiny dog. “Hi, Mrs. Bauman.”

Mrs. Bauman huffed, grumbling under her breath, and she and her dog shuffled down the sidewalk. Dex watched her go.

“You know, I think she may secretly be a ninja.”

Sloane chuckled. “What makes you think that?”

“The way she appears out of nowhere. I don’t even know where she lives.”

“How do you know her name?”

“I was taking out the trash one day when I saw her thrashing the newspaper boy with her fuzzy slipper. The kid was a Therian. Like twice her size, so her slipper was like a fly buzzing at him. He was very patient, and I could see he was trying his hardest not to laugh. The kid said her name while he was apologizing.”

“Do you know what he did?”

“The paper would hit her door every time he threw it and scare her dog.”

Sloane hummed. “It makes sense. I imagine that’s what tiny dogs must have looked like during the Jurassic period.”

Dex turned his head up and blinked at Sloane. His deadpan expression did it, and Dex burst into laughter. Sloane cracked a smile before turning and heading back into the house with Dex on his heels. A year ago, Sloane would have never joked like that. Hell, the guy had barely smiled. Everyone said it was Dex’s influence, and maybe some of it was, but Sloane was far more playful and lighthearted than people realized. It had just been buried under all that pain and anguish. On the job it was different, so people saw the no-nonsense Team Leader. Dex realized then how lucky he was. Very few got to see the dorky side of his partner. The guy who played Mystery Science Theater 3000 with Dex, muting cheesy movies so they could narrate and do their own voices.

Lou had laughed at Dex’s antics, but he never understood a lot of Dex’s humor or his endless cheerfulness. He didn’t get how Dex could come home after a day filled with blood and death, pop on one of his favorite comedies, and laugh his ass off. Crying with laughter was better than the alternative. With Sloane, Dex never had to explain why he was the way he was. Sloane not only understood, he

was the same. He’d just never had anyone to tell him it was okay to smile. They were both too familiar with how short life could be, and there was no sense in not enjoying the journey while they could.

Sparks gave Sloane two days off. It was the least she could do for the whole Wolf debacle. Despite her assurances that Wolf was no longer in the country, that didn’t mean someone else wouldn’t be sent in his place. Dex and Sloane went about their day but made sure not to let their guards down. After coffee, Dex spoke to his little brother, insisting he was fine. Talk of Dex and Sloane having sexy times had quickly turned Cael’s fretful ramblings to gagging noises and sounds of disgust before he told Dex he was a jerkface. In true Cael fashion, it was quickly followed by an apology and insistence that Dex was not, in fact, a jerkface. Dex promised to call Cael if he needed anything and asked him to annoy Ash on his behalf, or at least make an attempt.

Less than an hour after their phone conversation, Cael was on Dex’s doorstep. Dex had opened the door, barely getting a word out before Cael launched himself at him.

“Woah, hey.” Dex let out a soft laugh as he wrapped his arms around Cael. “It’s okay, Chirpy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Cael replied, his words muffled against Dex’s shirt. He squeezed Dex gently, and held on to him.

Dex couldn’t remember the last time Cael had clung to him like this. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against Cael’s. He didn’t pull away or comment. It was clear Cael had been shaken up by what happened. Once he pulled back, he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, and gave a sniff, a deep frown on his face. He refused to look Dex in the eye. Who knew what was going on in that overactive brain of his.

Dex put his hands on Cael’s shoulders, demanding softly, “Hey, look at me.”

With some reluctance, Cael did. His big gray eyes were glassy.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Cael nodded.

“How about a drink?” Dex motioned behind him, and Cael followed. They headed into the kitchen where Sloane was washing the dishes. He smiled at Cael.

“Hey.”

Cael gave him a wobbly smile before taking a seat on one of the chairs behind the counter.

“So what’ll it be?” Dex asked, subtly squeezing Sloane’s side. Cael was quiet. Like Dex, Cael was never quiet. Not unless he was engrossed in a video game or movie. “Tea? Hot chocolate?”

Cael sat up straight, seeming to shake himself out of it. “Hot chocolate. With marshmallows. Lots of marshmallows. Like, half the cup should be marshmallows.”

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