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And on that cheery note, he grabbed a few quarters and slipped away from the group to an X-Men pinball table.
“Too loud for you?” Fuck. Isaiah had followed him over.
“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. Isaiah had a full mouth, one that reminded him too much of Wes’s, and he tried to find a spot for his gaze that wasn’t Isaiah’s cute face.
“I’m not doing anything after this.” Leaning in, Isaiah made Dustin grip the edge of the pinball table to avoid the urge to step back.
“Me either.” Dustin didn’t realize what he’d stepped in until the words were already out.
“Excellent. What do you say you come over? Have a drink?” The kid—and he was a kid, maybe twenty-two if that—oozed confidence.
“I...uh...” This wasn’t the first time that one of Apollo or Dylan’s friends had hit on him over the years, and like always, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was always so much more suave about this in his head. “Should probably head home,” he finished lamely.
“I know I’ve got a bit of a party boy rep with Dylan and your friends, but I can keep my mouth shut. It would just be a drink between new friends. That’s all.” Isaiah’s voice was low and reassuring and did exactly nothing to soothe Dustin’s jangled nerves.
“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” He wasn’t lying—they had a full day of training ahead of them, and his pre-dawn meeting with the LT would come sooner than he wanted.
“Darn.” Isaiah looked him up and down, knowing gaze saying that he had Dustin’s number, before he wandered away. And really, if Dustin was smart, he’d take Isaiah up on the offer of a discreet hookup, try to get Wes out of his system, see if maybe he’d react the same to any confident, aggressive man. But he really had no desire to test those waters. He wanted Wes. Finally giving in to his urges, he pulled out his phone.
As he’d hoped there was a new message. Back at the barracks. I could sleep for a week. Leaving was hard.
Strangely, Dustin’s pulse slowed down, and he felt calmer than he had all night. I bet, he typed. You should rest. Wish I could. I’m out at my brother’s bachelor party, wishing I could escape. He didn’t add the part his fingers itched to include—that he wished Wes were here, giving him a buffer.
Don’t go home with any strippers ;) And no hangovers for tomorrow, Wes replied.
Dustin smiled to himself. Ha. No strippers. Just video games.
“What’s so funny?” Dylan came over. “Man, you’ve been acting weird lately. You okay?”
“Fine.” Dustin pocketed the phone. “Haven’t really been in a socializing mood, that’s all.”
“Are you mad that I’m marrying Apollo?” Dylan studied him carefully. “You know he’ll always be your best friend too.”
“What? Mad? Me? No.” Dustin blustered. More like jealous. Jealous that you guys found each other and get to be together. But he wasn’t going to admit that. “I’m happy for you guys. Really.”
“And you’re sure that you’re not bringing a date to the wedding? I’ve got friends—”
“I don’t need matchmaking,” Dustin said, sharper than he needed to. “Sorry. Just been busy lately. I’ll have a good time, promise.”
Too bad the only person he wanted to bring to the wedding was the last person he could. Even if Wes wasn’t his subordinate, he tried to imagine a universe where he entered the reception with a guy on his arm... Sweat trickled down his back as he pictured his dad’s reaction. His friends. Nope. Not happening. Even as he acknowledged that, a strange wistfulness settled over him. He bet Wes was a great dancer, all Southern charm and easy grace. All that discomfort might be worth it to hold him in his arms...
“There you go looking like you’re a million miles away again.” Dylan shook his head. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Yeah,” Dustin said thickly. “Listen. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. Think I could duck out early?”
“Of course.” Dylan’s eyes still flashed with concern even as he nodded. Fuck. The last thing Dustin needed was Dylan worried when he should be focused on his wedding.
“And I’m fine,” Dustin added, trying to sound more convincing. “No worries.”
His body didn’t believe him though, even if Dylan seemed to, jumbled thoughts and jumpy nerves carrying him back to his condo, where the first thing he did was pull out his phone.
Home. God, save me from happily coupled people. He sent the message before he could think the better of it.
I know what you mean. My parents kept bugging me about dating while I was home. Matchmaking people are the worst. Wes added some funny emoji stickers at the end of the message.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But his finger hit call before he could find his missing willpower.
