The club was mostly what Ollie expected it to be. Green and gold accents highlighted a dark bar and nearly every other surface of Viridian, Magnus’s nightclub. There were small, upraised stages scattered around the dance floor, and one larger stage directly above and behind the DJ. Three men in bright green briefs edged in gold danced and gyrated on the main stage to the pulsing thump of the music.

“You can dance if you want,” Dagen said in Ollie’s ear, close enough that his beard brushing Ollie’s cheek sent a shiver down his spine. He turned in the booth they’d taken over to find his lover watching him with warm eyes.

“And just leave you here on your own?” Ollie couldn’t help but glance at Dagen’s shoulder and the bandage he knew was hiding under the dark blue button-down shirt Dagen wore. Dagen had only been out of the hospital for a few days, and Ollie wasn’t about to let him out of his sight. With his arm in a sling to help support his shoulder and keep it immobile, Dagen wasn’t up to dancing of any sort.

Ollie leaned closer, letting his body rest against Dagen’s uninjured side, and brushed his fingers through the dark red hair of Dagen’s beard. “How’s your pain?”

Dagen smiled at him. “The baseline vibration is not doing me any favors, but it’s tolerable.”

“We can go home. I should have told them it was too soon.” Ollie started to shift toward the edge of the booth, and Dagen chuckled as he reached for his arm.

“Baby, I’m fine. Besides, if it gets too bad, I’ll just tell Magnus to turn it down. I’ve got some clout around here, you know.”

Ollie searched his face but didn’t see any of the trademark signs the pain was getting too intense so he decided to try and enjoy himself. After Justin’s attack and Dagen taking a bullet for him, things had come into clear focus for Ollie. The fear of losing Dagen after he’d just found him had been a rock in his chest until he’d stepped into Dagen’s hospital room and seen him open his eyes again. Dagen had asked him to stay, and at that moment Ollie knew that he would. He’d stay forever if Dagen would have him.

He had been sure he was going to die that night in the apartment, with Justin screaming about drugs and Niko sobbing. Justin and the men with him had all been charged with multiple accounts of assault with a deadly weapon, breaking and entering, and a host of other things. One thing remained a mystery though, there was no trace of the drugs Justin had been convinced Niko had taken.

Justin had admitted to police that the backpack was actually one he used at the shop and he’d hidden the drugs in the lining with a plan to have Niko unknowingly transport them to a buyer while on an errand for Justin. Of course, after Justin had pushed Niko too far and he’d fled across the country with the backpack, Justin found himself without the product he was supposed to sell or a way to pay his supplier.

Ollie supposed it was one of those things they would never really know the truth of, but more than likely, another of Justin’s abused employees had probably taken the drugs and left Niko literally holding the bag.

“That is a serious thoughts face,” Rory remarked, sliding into the U-shaped booth on the other side of Dagen and setting the drinks he’d gone to get on the table between them. “No serious thoughts tonight, lad.”

“Sorry.” Ollie tried to look sheepish before accepting a bottle of beer and giving Dagen a sympathetic smile when Rory placed a Coke in front of him. He wasn’t allowed to have alcohol with the medication he was taking, another reason Ollie had been concerned about coming out tonight.

He got that everyone wanted to celebrate Dagen being out of the hospital. He really did. No one was happier than him that Dagen was doing so well that they got to be home where they could sleep in their own bed, lounge on their own couch, and eat their own food. Even though Dagen had to coach him through how to cook it all because he refused to let his diet fall into complete chaos despite being unable to train.

It was a double-edged sword because, while he didn’t want Dagen to be tempted with the little things he couldn’t have, he also wanted to take his mind off the big things. It was the first day of the state lifting competition, and while Dagen hadn’t mentioned it, Ollie knew he was disappointed to not be there.

Vidar had assured Dagen that lifting competitively or not, Dagen always had a place at the gym, and more, he didn’t have anything to prove. He could tell Dagen took it to heart, but he’d seen his man researching training routines for shoulder injuries and knew not to count Dagen out of the game yet.

“The club is nice,” Rory said, looking around and taking it all in. Ollie had almost forgotten that Rory and Magnus avoided being in the same place at the same time, and as such, Rory had never been to Magnus’s club. Someday he would ask about it, but it appeared to have been either put on hold or disbanded entirely when Dagen was in the hospital. Whatever the cause, Ollie hoped they would work it out. He’d grown fond of both men and it was obvious that, despite their differences, they both cared a great deal about Dagen and the family in general. “And look, Harbor’s already found a target.” Rory tilted his head. “Though not his usual one.”

Ollie turned to follow Rory’s gaze to see Harbor on the edge of the dance floor, wrapped around a man. He couldn’t make out any features with the dim lights, but Ollie could tell they looked great together. “What do you mean?”

“He typically takes up with the lasses,” Rory said and took a swallow of his beer.

“Guys having a good time?” Magnus stopped by the edge of their table. He was stunning in expertly cut black slacks and a vest with an emerald green button-down rolled up over tan forearms that made his eyes, so like Dagen’s, look so green the other colors were nearly eclipsed.

Rory’s gaze swept over Magnus so quickly, Ollie almost missed the sadness that clouded them before he grunted an affirmative and lowered his eyes back to his beer.

Raising his own eyes to Magnus, he nodded. “It’s a really nice place,” Ollie responded, looking out over the crowd to the stage where a different rotation of guys were now dancing.

Magnus followed his gaze and smirked. “If you know anyone who’d like to go-go, send them my way. It’s so hard to find Midwestern boys with rhythm,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been trying to talk Niko into it. He’s cute as a button, and with all those tattoos, he’d be stunning up there. So would you, Ollie.” Magnus shot him a teasing wink even as Dagen growled behind him.

“Hey, hey!” Dagen scowled as his uninjured arm snaked around Ollie’s waist and pulled him back until he was basically sitting on Dagen’s lap. “This one is mine.”

Ollie turned his head with a raised eyebrow.

Dagen’s face scrunched up and then he sighed. “But of course, if he wants to dance, I’ll support him.”

Ollie thought his heart might burst as he smiled and leaned in to press his lips to Dagen’s pouting ones. “No worries, babe. I may not be from the Midwest, but I dance like I am.”

Magnus and Rory both laughed as Dagen pulled him closer, nipping at his bottom lip and licking into Ollie’s mouth for a much deeper kiss.

“You know, I have strategically placed alcoves for that kind of thing,” Magnus drawled.

Ollie pulled back reluctantly, sure his cheeks were pink, and hid his face in the crook of Dagen’s neck just to breathe for a moment. He was so damn thankful to be there.

A moment later, Niko plopped down beside Ollie, sweaty from the dance floor, and Magnus winked at Ollie before saying he needed to go check on some things.

“Have fun?” Ollie asked, and Niko smiled.

“Yeah, this place is great.” Niko fiddled with the plastic wristband he had to wear inside the club to mark him as under twenty-one.

“How many years before you can take that off, laddie? Four? Five?” Rory teased.

Niko huffed. “I’m almost twenty, you know. I couldn’t even be in here if I was under eighteen.”

“Magnus said he was trying to get you to dance,” Ollie commented, draining the last of his beer.

A little blush crept over Niko’s cheeks. “I don’t know if I’d be any good at it… the money would be nice though.”

“What money?” Vidar stepped up to the table, a dark look passing over his face when his blue eyes settled on Niko, and Niko’s immediately lowered. Ollie’s brows scrunched together. What the hell was that about?

“Um.” Niko licked his lips. “I’m going to go grab a water.” He started to shift out of the booth, but Vidar stepped to block his exit.

“Stay for a minute.”

There was something about the way Niko instantly backed down and slid back into the booth that had alarm bells pinging inside Ollie’s head. He opened his mouth to ask Niko if he was okay, when Rory and Dagen started to sing, and everyone around their table joined in.

“Happy Birthday to you…”

Ollie looked from one to the other, trying to figure out who they were singing to when he saw Kayla with Magnus and Harbor on either side of her walking to their table with a double layer cake in her hands, the top blazing with candles.

“Happy birthday, dear Ollie… Happy birthday to you!”

“What the hell?” he managed to squeak before that blazing cake was placed directly in front of him, and he looked up into the eyes of all the people that had recently come into his life and filled it with more kindness and support than he’d ever dreamed of finding. He focused on Kayla, her green eyes so understanding as she smiled at him encouragingly. Dagen’s hand slid around to encircle his waist and he rested his chin on Ollie’s shoulder. Ollie turned and met his gaze and saw all the emotion he was still so afraid to voice reflected back at him.

“You did this?” he whispered.

Dagen gave him that small smile. The one that lit him up, held him together, and was his. All his. “You deserve to be celebrated and I thought it was time you had some new memories to mark the occasion.”

Resting their foreheads together, Ollie fought the burn building behind his eyes and brushed his lips over Dagen’s. “Thank you.”

“Make a wish, baby.”

He knew exactly what to wish for.