Chapter Text
Meetings with Base were the highlight of Ty’s week. Perhaps it was the presence of Mike Walters, though too often, Ty never got the chance to see his friend—“out in the wild,” as Ty often thought of it. Most of the time, circumstances offered him little more than a perfunctory glimpse from across the room while Ty stepped through the absolutely homely abode constituting “Base”. Every meeting would end with Ty offering to host the next at the compound, much more suited for these sorts of things, to which Edgar would nod, say it was very kind of the Flinchites to offer that, but Base was more comfortable meeting on their own home turf.
Despite that inevitable disappointment, each meeting was an event to look forward to. Ty always made sure he would have his best shirt and shoes available, and would spend far too many minutes staring into the mirror in order to set his hair perfectly.
A smile on Ty’s face as he rang the doorbell. A smile on Edgar’s face as he opened the door and let Ty step inside the unassuming house serving as a base of operations for an organization with—admittedly middling—control over some of humanity’s most powerful technology in all of history.
They always exchanged the same courtesies, a ritual that calmed the minor spike in heartrate that came with stepping through the door.
“And how are your people doing?”
“Oh, same as always. Minor dramas that shouldn’t affect what we’re to discuss. A few major ones that I’m unfortunately bringing to the table.”
“Likewise.”
“Should we get to it, then?”
It didn’t matter who was who, ultimately. They would take their seats in the small room which had likely once intended to be a closet. Edgar sat behind a L-shaped desk that was neither too neat nor too messy, laptop to one side that looked a few years too advanced for this time period. A large, comfortable office chair waited for Ty; Edgar was not the sort to leave his guests uncomfortable for the sake of some petty show of power. While Ty took his seat, Edgar would, with a preciseness testifying to his knowledge and control over his environment, move to one of the several filing cabinets lining the room and, without a moment wasted searching, retrieve whatever dossier was relevant for the day’s meetings.
Today, the topic was Calculators. Handhelds. Ty wasn’t certain which of the terms he preferred, personally, but it was easier to adopt Edgar’s language as they discussed Base’s need for a secure supply above the two they had acquired all those months ago. Some for back-up, and some to disassemble in order to better understand the secrets of their functioning. As if simply unscrewing the back and looking at their arcane circuitry would be at all elucidating. Ty hated touching one with its screws secure and buttons functional; he shuddered to think of early Base, so young and naïve, poking around inside of one, its guts open to the air.
“We’ll want to account for all of our leased Calculators, then,” Ty explained, “and will expect them to remain in working condition, of course.”
Edgar often spoke with his elbows on the table, fingers interwoven in front of him or under his chin. “I don’t believe we are on the same page here. I’m not talking leases. I’m talking purchases.”
“No, no, I do understand that. However, you—your Base may want to consider its bargaining position and what it can bring to the table.”
Even with a comfortable chair, it was still a power differential for Edgar to remain behind a table while Ty sat so far back. He wasn’t sure what to do with his own hands to keep his fingers from fidgeting and flicking. The best option was to mimic Edgar’s own position as best he could, elbows on the arm rests, intertwined fingers just in front of his chest. He had read once that mirroring someone’s body language would lead to greater cooperation and empathy.
Smiling, Edgar said, “You insult us, Ty.”
“I don’t mean to disparage the work that you’ve done here. I’ve said it before: it’s very impressive what you’ve managed. But those I report to don’t always feel similarly.”
And to hell with them. Base was, in fact, impressive, even if a bit of a mess. A constant stumbling forward through failed missions, then failed corrections to those failures, and then finally, by some miracle, it would dig its claws into a timeline where it continued to exist. They traversed a tightrope hung over the waiting jaws of O.V.E.R., of the compound, of countless further enemies that Base would one day make but had yet to meet. Yet they persisted.
“It’s impressive,” Ty reiterated, “but not powerful, and I do not mean that as an insult. However, I can ask what it is that will make my bosses part with a few of our—heh—Calculators.”
“I’d appreciate that, Ty.”
Edgar had a perfect handshake: firm and self-assured, but not so forceful as to raise questions about overcompensation. One as practiced and deliberate as Ty’s own.
On leaving, the door to the office swung nearly into the side of one Mike Walters, only just missing him due to some quick footwork on his part. Looking rather like a child caught sneaking into the kitchen late at night, he stared blankly at Ty, then at Edgar over Ty’s shoulder, then once more at Ty.
It was the closest in physical proximity they had been since Mike broke out of the compound. With this particular iteration, at least—one who Ty had put so much work into: soft affectionate touches, a kiss now and again. A relationship, as vague as the term might have been, that the occasional Mike and Ty pairings that occasionally reoccurred at the compound would never fully duplicate, duplicates as they were. Ty had thought he’d done a great job right up until the escape, a betrayal on so many levels. The feelings had never really faded, even as Ty met with other Mikes, none of whom had yielded in quite the same way.
It was a history Ty thought he could see in Mike’s overlong gaze before shuffling backwards to give Ty the space to exit the room, a new weight in the air. A tether between them, Ty couldn’t help but think, cut suddenly by Edgar stepping past, somehow squeezing between Ty and the door frame in a testament to his short stature and slight build, and then rising up between Ty and Mike larger than his body should have allowed. There was a solemness—if not animosity—on Edgar’s face that was unusual for him.
Message received. It had been such a pleasant meeting, and Ty didn’t want to ruin that good will, even if it meant acting as if he and Mike weren’t only a meter or so apart. No need to rile up the panther.
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” Ty said to Edgar. It was a challenge, but he managed to avoid letting his gaze drift to Mike as he turned and left.
#
Edgar tapped his pen against the table, directing his frown away from Ty and towards the far corner of the room. “Well,” he said, “if we can’t move forward on this issue with the Calculators, then we’ll probably turn towards our other long-term goals, such as the matter of the iterations of Mikey you’re keeping at your compound.”
“Should I take that as a threat, Edgar?”
Ty had once asked himself what it was that drew Mike to Edgar. At first blush, Edgar had seemed simply mundane: someone unfortunately tied up in powers way over his head. Mike had been the black hole, the murderous WOE.BEGONE player (thought, of course, with the utmost respect and affection) who could only serve as a corrupting influence to someone as innocent and pure as Edgar. Edgar would be eaten up in that sort of world. Mike would lose him.
But it was a mask, of course. A mask that broke only seldom, such as now, a bright light dancing in Edgar’s eyes, a dry mocking laughter hidden behind a tight smile.
“I’m only stating what Base’s intentions will be,” Edgar said, “unless we can figure out more peaceful options, which I believe we can.”
“Well, I hope we can come to an agreement,” Ty said, tapping his own fingers against the chair’s armrests. “I would hate to see so many of your Base’s resources thrown against our walls.”
“We’ve successfully organized the breakout of one of our members before,” Edgar said pleasantly. “If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate us.”
Though Ty kept his outward expression even and unaffected, he grimaced internally. The breakout hadn’t been more than a light, superficial scratch to the resources of the compound; however, it had nevertheless meant some uncomfortable meetings with his superiors in order to convince them of how minor the incursion had been and, importantly, that there would be no further disruptions to their operations, no matter how mild. Yet more noise from Base teleporting into their walls with guns and grenades—and they had a tank now, didn’t they?—would make those conversations more difficult. Not everyone saw Base as a pesky child to be firm but ultimately tolerant and patient with.
And Base was indeed acting like a child now. Having been refused access to additional Calculators on its own terms, it was threatening a tantrum of repeated invasions in order to, nominally, rescue further duplicates of Mike and Michael—and Edgar himself, though that always seemed to come up as an afterthought—from their supposed prison, threats spoken through Edgar’s mild-mannered mouth.
It was, of course, smart of Edgar to never meet on compound soil. These sorts of threats would be deserving of at least a reset, if not some sort of slap on the wrist.
“Your demands, then,” Ty said. He could only hope that the irony in the word was clear: these weren’t, ultimately, demands that the compound would be forced to follow, but mere requests backed up by little more than a metaphorical ‘please’ (though, considering it now, Ty certainly wouldn’t have minded hearing the word explicitly from Edgar). “Your demands are for more Calculators, then? Owned, not leased.”
“That,” said Edgar, “would do a lot to help Base’s relationship with the compound, wouldn’t it? We’d really be in a lot of debt.”
Ty could have laughed. Base—and Mike Walters in particular—was already in far greater debt than any of them could hope to conceive. There was only so much more their tab could bear. That was one problem with so much subterfuge: Ty couldn’t simply list out everything that had been done for Base and settle the scores that way. It was so much easier, at times, to be open and honest.
Still, Ty didn’t withhold any fondness from his voice as he said, “Calculators, or you return to your quest to break out as many duplicates as possible. Right, right. Fair enough.”
Once more, the highlight of the meeting came at the end: Mike, hovering just outside the door as if in wait. Thoughts of debts and deals paused for that moment of eye contact, of surprising proximity.
If Ty stopped, however, that would only alert Edgar, ruining the moment. He stepped forward with the same momentum as if Mike weren’t there.
It was an uncharacteristic risk to take such significant action without files of contingencies outlined, fail-safes secured, corrections ready to be deployed. But opportunities had to be seized where they lay, and what was so significant about this? Just a small reaching out, touching first Mike’s upper arm then trailing around his side as Ty stepped past. Frankly, Mike’s reaction was overblown, the muscles jumping under Ty’s fingers and a far too noticeable sharp intake of breath that wasn’t released as Ty’s unchanging gait forced him past.
The desire to look back ached, but it was dangerous enough already. He could readily imagine Edgar, protective and territorial, refusing Ty’s next meeting. And where would that leave him?
The tips of his fingers prickled with electricity for the remainder of the day.
#
Ty wasn’t often left alone at Base. It was a precaution as superstitious as many of Base’s other protocols and procedures, but they didn’t need to know how familiar Ty was with all of Base’s minute corners through extended surveillance. Alone now, all Ty could do was sweep his gaze across Edgar’s small office. Base must have had an interior designer; the various whiteboards and cabinets around the walls somehow served to expand the space rather than narrow it, the room proving itself able to contain more than it seemed.
Very likely, it was Edgar himself who had organized it. Ty quite liked the image: Edgar arranging and dictating the items, ordering Mike to nudge things around. He could only hope that the filing cabinets were duplicates of one another—that Base would leverage the conveniences of technology in that way.
When the door opened, Ty had to push down the impulse to stand; he did not need to demonstrate that sort of deference here. However, that now meant that Mike loomed over him, face uncertain, as Edgar slid behind him and returned to his desk.
Of course Ty stared back, a strange spinning weightlessness in his head for a few moments before he got a handle on himself and focused his attention on Edgar. Mike shuffled around the desk to a small chair right behind Edgar’s. He clearly had no clue where to place his gaze—poor thing—which flitted from the back of Edgar’s head, to the far wall, to Ty’s own eyes, and then away again.
“And why is Mr. Walters joining us today?” Ty asked, smiling.
“If we’re going to discuss the matter of his duplicates at the compound,” Edgar said, “then he might as well hear, right?”
An obvious lie. The purpose was distraction.
Mike shifted in his chair, which looked far less comfortable than either Edgar’s or Ty’s. “We are?” he said to Edgar in a low whisper.
Which meant that Ty felt a further offense on Mike’s behalf, that this might have been sprung onto him. Ty clung to that rather than the amorphous frustration at himself that this could be a technique used against him at all—that being in the same room as Mike did an inexplicable something to his chest and head. It wasn’t as though Mike was completely absent from Ty’s life. Just yesterday, Ty had wriggled his way into a conversation with one of the Mike duplicates still at the compound. But that Mike had been so dull and lifeless, more of a collapse than a surrender. In front of him now was the trickster who had escaped thanks to some clever flooding, that near perfect blend of catty and pliable. If only they had been granted a few more weeks together. Ty could have worked wonders.
Edgar was pushing a packet of paper across the desk. “A simple request,” he explained, “hopefully. Base just wants to hear about the living conditions within your compound.”
This distraction was more welcome. Ty picked up the packet and began to thumb through it. It was a series of questions, amply spaced apart, regarding the day-to-day life and activities of the recipient. Ty’s first response was to smile at what it implied.
“You’d like me to give this to one of our Mikes,” Ty guessed.
“If at all possible,” said Edgar.
Not that Ty would fault Base—or Edgar—for wanting in their records something that might construct the image of a perfectly smooth, happy experience for Mike’s duplicates at the compound. “Sounds reasonable,” he admitted, “but you do know I have to ask: What is Base willing to offer for this request?”
Ty looked up to see Edgar smiling strangely brightly, Mike unsure behind him. “I think more open communication would help relations, wouldn’t it?” Edgar said. “After all, we might have fewer reasons to pester you all about Mikey’s duplicates if we knew what conditions were like for them—right, Bear?”
Edgar reached back to touch Mike on the knee, who startled like a school child caught sleeping in class.
“Wh—right?” Mike said, then with only a hint more certainty, repeated, “Right.”
The frown that flashed across Edgar’s lips was perceptible for only a moment. When he looked at Ty once more, that distant customer service smile had settled back into place.
Part of Ty suspected that this was a lie as well. Nobody at Base would be convinced by the practiced, edited, and regurgitated answers that any “Compound Mikey” would give. The transparent farce might, in fact, only further aggravate anyone at Base already irritated about the compound’s experiments. Maybe that was the point, ultimately: a kind of internal propaganda. Ty rarely tracked intra-Base politics beyond the pair before him. At the same time, Ty wished there to be something earnest in the request—a willingness to accept the answers the compound provided.
There was certainly an earnestness to the way Mike fidgeted and shifted in his seat.
“Okay,” Ty found himself saying, somewhat despite himself. “I’ll make sure Base receives something sufficient to tuck away into your files.”
“Good to hear it,” said Edgar. He spun his chair towards Mike, though they sat so close together that he could barely spin half a circle before their knees knocked together. “See, Bear? We’ll hear more about what it’s like in there nowadays.”
Then, he reached out a hand and curled his fingers under Mike’s chin to hold him still as he leaned forward and pressed their lips together for a kiss that quickly grew far too deep and involved for there being another person in the room. Ty couldn’t do much but stare, his attention narrowing to those points of physical contact between Mike and Edgar—between their knees, Edgar’s other hand resting itself on Mike’s thigh, Mike bringing up a hand to touch Edgar’s arm. Eyes flitted closed. Ty could see tongue.
And then, Edgar did the most devious and—Ty wasn’t afraid of thinking it—evil thing that he could have done. Lips still pressed against Mike’s, he opened his eyes and shot a look back at Ty. Bright and knowing.
It might as well have been a punch to the stomach, the way the air left Ty’s lungs and refused to return for several seconds. The eye contact lasted for only a few moments before Edgar returned to the world shared with nobody but Mike. Meanwhile, Ty didn’t feel much like part of the world at all. It was as if he were watching it all through the screens back at Surveillance.
Not that he had ever used those technologies for anything untoward or inappropriate. There were rules.
It took some conscious effort to unclench his jaw and relax his fists. There was no reason to be so affected. It was just an immodest kiss done clearly in order to agitate, and the last thing in the world he wanted to do was to let Edgar know he succeeded. With a deep breath, Ty reached into that calm center inside himself, and by the time he exhaled, he was unflappable as ever.
Obviously, this was planned. Nothing about Edgar was unplanned. Though, it may have come as more of a surprise to Mike: once he and Edgar finally pulled apart, he looked flustered and bewildered. The flush on his cheeks was nearly as entrancing as the kiss had been. Too many memories of, back at the compound, how even the slightest bit of affection could set Mike aflame and stammering. All that physical prowess and size melting at any touch, especially after so much isolation. The scratchiness to Mike’s chin. And how different Edgar might feel by comparison, all soft and smooth and with that underlying sharpness—
Edgar spun back towards Ty and said, as if uninterrupted, “I hope to hear some good news about the compound activities, then.”
Right. That was the topic, now washed out of Ty’s mind through so much energy spent retaining this calm mask. Every breath a conscious chore, he stood and thanked Edgar for the meeting. While walking out, trying not to clench the packet of questions in his hands, he perseverated over an irrational feeling that he should have apologized for the intrusion.
#
Ty began their next meeting very frankly: “Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate to be using your relationship with Mike in that way?”
Edgar could have batted his eyelashes. “I’m sorry if you feel like I’m using our relationship against you,” he said.
It was the sort of non-apology that Ty couldn’t press without revealing just how much it had, in fact, bothered him—how that following night had accosted him with strange images more vivid than those scant few seconds had been. Hints lingered on the back of his eyelids now.
Instead, Ty simply slid the papers across the desk towards Edgar. “Your questions.”
Edgar didn’t so much as glance down at them. “I am curious about your relationship with Mikey, though,” he said. He spoke slowly, somehow even more careful with each syllable than usual. “We have spoken about it—quite a lot, actually.”
Ty narrowed his eyes, hoping to find in Edgar’s expression and body language—something, though he wasn’t fully certain what. Some crack in the image, some remnant of impassioned discussions or outright arguments with Mike. Through Edgar’s reactions, some hint of Mike’s emotions, at the very least. The idea came to file some releases from Surveillance, but the requests would be too self-evidently personal.
“I am not quite sure what you mean by that,” Ty said, matching the careful cadence. This was a tricky subject, and he wished above everything that he had a script fed to him, lines practiced and honed from repeated resets. A conversation that would go as smoothly as possible, for both of their sakes. If things went horribly wrong, he could later stage a total correction, but that was a blunt tool compared to the fine-tuned edits of a meeting done within compound walls.
If there was a crack, it was in Edgar’s lips: a slight opening, then closing, then, “As I understand it, you two were—close, at the compound.”
“I’d like to think we were,” said Ty. Not close enough.
“Those sorts of relationships are complicated,” said Edgar. Finally, he looked down at the packet of questions and gathered them closer to his side of the table. “Captor and captee. Very asymmetrical.”
Something in Ty bristled. It felt like a critique—or boasting. “Unfortunately.”
“Deeply unfortunate,” Edgar agreed. “Now, I wasn’t there when he first escaped, but—”
“Edgar,” Ty interrupted curtly, surprising even himself. A tenseness coiled up inside him. If they were on compound soil, he would have paused, reset, and kept Edgar from going down this thread of conversation that left his stomach inexplicably twisting. “We are both busy people here, and as much as I enjoy talking about Mike, this is not a line of discussion that has any utility. Is it an apology you’re asking for?”
Frustratingly, in lieu of an immediate answer, Edgar turned towards a nearby filing cabinet and spent some moments tucking the papers away. “He still thinks about you a lot, you know,” he finally said.
Several seconds’ pause indicated that Ty was expected to speak next, and he had the distinct feeling that he was being led down a particular path, pointed towards a particular response. What else was there to say besides, “What does he say about me?”
“I think he misses you,” said Edgar. “He never quite puts it that way, but...”
Edgar’s gaze was intense, searching for something in Ty’s as he trailed off. Ty wondered what he might have been able to see: Ty’s own elation at remaining heavy in Mike’s thoughts, tempered by the suspicion—no, the knowledge that Edgar would find some way to leverage it against him. Ty kept his face frozen.
The fingers crossed under his chin and even smile on his lips certainly helped with the impression that Edgar had the upper hand here. “So, for the benefit of everyone,” he said, “I would be willing to let you two spend some time together.”
The flutter in Ty’s chest was, frankly, embarrassing. He stared at Edgar for a few moments, searching for the sign that it had been sarcasm or a joke. Nothing more came, just that politeness that Ty usually found so refreshing and agreeable, even outright enjoyable, but which now felt too much like a trap.
Even just the hypothetical capacity for a controlled reset would have been nice.
Ty gave his best dismissive snort. “A playdate,” he said.
“A relationship,” corrected Edgar. Shock must have leaked through onto Ty’s face, because he continued, “I can guess what you want. I know what Mikey wants. I think we can come away with something beneficial for everyone.”
Ty shook his head, in part to convey his disbelief but largely in order to get parts of his body once more paying attention to his brain’s signals. He flexed his fingers for the same reason. “I’m not sure I—”
“I think you do understand,” said Edgar. “You just don’t believe me.”
“This isn’t a trick, is it? I express interest, you throw me out the door?”
“No trick.”
Of course, that did not actually untwist the knot in Ty’s chest. “And,” he said, “this isn’t a—transaction, is it? I refuse to let a relationship with Mike enter our negotiations in that matter.”
Edgar’s polite smile turned into a more snide smirk. That hint of darkness that always crouched in waiting just behind the mask. “Of course not.”
“In fact,” said Ty, leaning forward, “I would feel much more comfortable with any sort of arrangement if we worked out our terms in writing.” That would make it feel more real—even realer than things were already becoming, as he spoke each word without being shown the door. He was letting himself grow excited.
Edgar sighed with what parsed to Ty as impatience, as if it was a response he had expected but had been trying to avoid. Before Ty could further consider the implications of that, however, Edgar shrugged and said, “Okay. Alright, then.”
#
Ty kept his fingers interwoven in front of his chest, gripping tightly into each other, because otherwise they would be fidgeting and flicking in order to release some of this energy. Not nervousness—quite the opposite, really—but it all the same left Ty wanting to interrupt, frustrated that the computer was in front of Edgar’s eyes and not his own, that he wasn’t the one reading out the lines for finalization.
“Changes to this contract may be initiated by any party, and ratified by the other two parties,” Edgar droned on, unable or simply unwilling to place much more energy into his voice.
Edgar glanced sideways at Ty with an incredulity and perhaps impatience that Ty had grown familiar with throughout the past hour. But Edgar would appreciate this sort of verbiage if there ever came a reason to edit the contract—which Ty did indeed hope would eventually happen, for all the compromises it enshrined. For instance, they would have to circle back around to the stipulation that no dates would occur on compound soil, which Edgar had felt very strongly about.
Once finished with the last few lines, Edgar leaned back and stretched out his arms above him. “It all sounds fine to me,” he said. “I hope it sounds fine to you.” He looked hard at Ty for a few moments, as if daring him into another round of edits, but Ty only nodded and smiled. Content, Edgar gestured towards the door. “Well, Mikey is hopefully just outside—if he hasn’t gotten too bored. Would you mind bringing him in?”
Somehow, Ty hadn’t been thinking precisely of how to introduce this arrangement to Mike. The relationship felt fully laid out in front of him already, and an ideal world would have him and Mike already cuddled together, maybe finally watching one of those movies Ty knew Mike enjoyed. As Ty got to his feet, his lips kept twitching into a smile.
The door opened into something of a living room, Mike on the couch idly playing some colorful game on his phone. He glanced up on hearing the door open, but after seeing who stood there, returned to the game as if he shouldn’t have been caught looking. That he wouldn’t even ask about the grin on Ty’s face was a bit of a disappointment, but of course, Mike couldn’t have known that it concerned him.
“Mike,” said Ty. “Would you mind coming in?”
Ty deliberately stepped back from the door frame a ways in order to give Mike the space to pass without too much concern, though the thought did flash across his mind to reach out, brush his fingers against his arm—something minor to fluster. As a small indulgence of sadism, though, Ty gestured towards the seat opposite the table, rather than letting Mike slink off behind Edgar’s desk. He would, after all, be the center of attention. Ty himself chose to hover just by Mike’s shoulder.
“Hi Mikey,” said Edgar. “We were talking about you. You and Ty here.”
It was cute how Mike jumped. “What—what about us?”
“Your relationship.” Edgar’s voice dropped into a soft, caring tone. He had such a different way of speaking to Mike. “Mikey-Bear, you know it’s okay. It was a complicated time.”
Ty smiled a hint too widely at that. Edgar had already made it very clear that he found the contract and all its contingencies overly complicated. Ty didn’t try to bite the smile back when Mike craned his neck to look at him with consternation.
“Edgar and I were discussing an arrangement,” Ty explained.
“What does that mean?” Mike asked.
Lightly, Ty touched Mike’s shoulder. Mike twitched away, but happily, he let the contact linger the second time Ty reached out. Somewhat distractingly, the hand not against Mike’s shoulder was flicking its fingers off to the side.
“Edgar has agreed that we could”—Ty paused for a moment—“reinitiate that relationship.”
“What,” said Mike.
“Only if you want, Mikey,” said Edgar. “But I know you’ve missed him.”
“I don’t miss—” Mike’s complaint faltered as Ty’s hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, a sensitive spot Ty was all too familiar with. Mike swallowed. “You’re—you’re suggesting—?”
“A vee,” Edgar said, holding up two fingers. “I think it would be”—as Edgar looked directly at Ty, his words rose into that sharper, formal tone—“positive, for all of us.” Then, it was back to Mike and that soothing voice: “Well, Bear?”
Mike was practically squirming in his seat. “This is—uh—I mean—”
It would be so much easier for everyone to just take the initiative, as Ty had been forced to do back at the compound. Ty rubbed the back of Mike’s neck to get his attention. Smiling softly, he asked, “May I kiss you?”
Mike made a small strangled noise, gaze instantly darting across the room once again to Edgar. Ty couldn’t help but glance over as well; Edgar’s expression remained an even smile as he nodded.
“Okay,” Mike squeaked out.
It was a ways to bend over, but even after all this time, Mike’s lips felt perfect. Ty could have lost himself in them, grabbed the sides of Mike’s face and crawled on top of him (perhaps shooting a look back at Edgar to see how he felt on the receiving end of that). There was a hesitance in Mike, though—a stiffness in his muscles, not quite opening his mouth—and though the disappointment stung, Ty was hardly going to push him at this point. Besides, it was sweet how, as soon as they parted, Mike’s attention again snapped towards Edgar, checking that he had done the right thing.
When Edgar’s smile held, Mike’s next actions came quickly. Grabbing Ty’s upper arm, he pulled Ty down to his level once more, and kissed him hard.