“Where are my brothers?” Roman’s booming voice preceded him, as usual. Blane felt bad for the fellow pilots or air traffic controllers who had to deal with that. “Getting drunk without me? Assholes.”

He plopped into a chair at their usual bar—not quite a dive, but also not the kind of place classy guys in two-piece suits came.

“Hello to you, too,” Blane laughed. Roman didn’t always make it to their little gatherings, since he had the most travel of any of their jobs. His airline often sent him to far-flung regions, and he largely seemed to enjoy it.

The rest of them were already there, one of the rare occasions when all of them were present: along with Blane and Roman, there was Dustin, having gotten a rare day off from his forensics job; Josh, who’d driven in from the ranch despite it being tourist season; Tyler, who was between races; and their newest couple.

Nico, who had literally been an astronaut—coolest shit ever—and was now a park ranger after an injury, had found a boyfriend. Not just any boyfriend, but Deen Jayse, world-famous rock star.

It had taken them all a little time to adjust to having the guy present when he was almost a household name in music, but he was down-to-earth and genuine when he was around them. He’d won them over immediately.

Most importantly, Nico was so much happier these days with him. And he had good reason to be: they were about to move in together, sort of.

“Tell Roman the news,” Blane urged Nico, kicking him under the table.

Nico scowled and kicked him back, then leaned in to hug Roman. “Hey, man. So Deen and me are moving in together, now that his tour is done and he’s back living here.”

Roman stared. “Holy shit. Awesome. But what about your job?”

“Well. That’s the sticky bit,” Nico sighed. Deen snickered, making the rest of them crack up and Nico roll his eyes. “Shush, you.”

“Can’t help it. You give me so much material to work with.”

“Oh, God. Someone stop them from flirting again,” Blane groaned.

Nico smirked at him. “Shut up, you secret romantic. You love it.”

Tyler exaggerated a groan and stood up. “You’re all gross. This round’s mine,” he told them and headed for the bar.

“Anyway, the good news.” Deen beamed. “He’s gotten his work schedule switched to ten-on, four-off. He’ll live with me for the four-off stretches, and up in the park for the ten-on stretches. Barring emergencies, they won’t bug him when he’s down here. It’s part of a transition strategy to get him into another job where he’ll do, like… can I talk about it?”

“Too late now,” Nico laughed, looping his arm around Deen’s shoulder and fiddling with the fabric over his t-shirt.

“Oops.” Deen grinned. “Where he’ll be an educator. Meanwhile, I’m cutting back on what I let the label tell me to do, so we have at least those four-day stretches.”

“That’s a lot of fucking,” Roman concluded. “Heads-up: my housewarming gift will be a drum of lube.”

They were still laughing when Tyler brought back the round.

Blane couldn’t stop glancing at Nico and Deen. They touched each other much more today than they had in the couple get-togethers Nico had brought Deen to before.

They were so clearly in love that it almost hurt. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t jealousy, but that was bullshit. Nico was right—he was romantic, and he was tired of telling himself he wasn’t so he could pretend to be okay with the hookups that were all he seemed to be able to find.

As they drained beer and swapped stories, they went around the table to give each other updates on their lives. This had become a wonderful tradition over the last few years, since they’d realized they were all living in Knoxville again, and reunited.

The boys he’d known in high school had turned out to be great men—ambitious, smart, driven in their own careers, which couldn’t have been more different from each other.

None of them were straight, and while that was probably the only thing they all had in common, it had been enough in a small high school ten years ago. These days, kids had GSAs in middle school and could Google gay sex to learn how to do it, or gay love to find examples of it. Back then, even so recently… not as much.

Speaking of which…

“So there’s this cute guy coming into the zoo sometimes to paint animals there.”

All eyes turned to him.

“And?” they prompted him.

“I asked him on a date. Another real date.”

“Yes! Get back on the horse.”

“That’s—that’s what Gregory said!” Blane groaned, but laughed. “God.”

“That’s your coworker, isn’t it? Smart man. He’s right,” Nico grinned cheekily. “Because we’re never wrong.”

“I wasn’t moping around after Loser McAccountant. I mean, he had plenty of warning what I do.”

“You have to admit, though,” Josh said, trying to keep a straight face, “a sloth in some guy’s apartment?”

Blane laughed. “I know. For normal people, that’d be weird. The new guy’s an artist, though. A little more used to weird.”

“So… unemployed?” Tyler shot at him.

“Fuck off. An artist. I Googled him.” Blane felt weirdly defensive considering he didn’t even have Falcon’s number yet.

Deen stared, disentangling himself from Nico to lean in. “Before the first date?”

“He… has an unusual name. And, artist, you know? I was curious.”

“Is he big?”

Blane let his smirk grow dirty as he sipped his beer. “I hope so.” After the laughter faded, he added, “Not internationally famous or anything, but there are headlines and gallery showings and stuff. He has a portfolio website, and stuff at local art… places. His style is good.”

“So a surviving artist, not just struggling.” Dustin raised his brow. “Respect. He must be smart.”

“He comes off that way. I’ve asked him to come to the wine and auction for our animal paintings.”

“Shit.” Roman groaned. “I wanted to go to that, but…”

“They’re sending you off that weekend,” Blane finished. He was well used to it by now.

Roman sighed. “Sorry. I know. I’m a flake.”

“Oh, we get it,” Deen assured him. Probably more than anyone else at the table, the newest member of their brotherhood—by not-yet-marriage, if not tacky blood oath under the high school bleachers—understood his dilemma.

“But getting back to this guy…” Roman prompted. “He’s hot, right? You’re not settling?”

“Hell no, I’m not settling. Fuck you too,” Blane flipped him off. “And that’s all you’ll find out until after we actually go on a date.” Or even better, until he got the guy’s number.

Or at least got him in bed. Because by this point, whatever he said, part of him was ready to settle for whatever the hell he could get. Not that he’d ever tell the guys that.

His eyes lingered on Nico and Deen when they leaned into each other, almost unconsciously, as Deen talked about recording some new songs. They’d had a hard road, what with Deen’s tour life and Nico being stuck in the depths of a forest, and even they had made it work. And now they had it all, or at least, the most important parts.

I want to have it all, too.