Archive of Our Own

Tango

It was nice, this. 

Tango and Zedaph had taken refuge in Grian’s base, just beside the latest rendition of Grumbot. Who was both adorable and… vaguely terrifying. His friend had been desperate to show off his new stone camouflage which he’d used to ‘very efficiently spy upon’ their avian friend. And although Tango had his doubts about certain aspects of the story, (namely the part where Grian told Zedaph he was the ‘greatest costume designer’ of all time), he had to admit the cloak was pretty cool. 

Since Grian had vacated his base shortly after the encounter, and Tango had been looking for the sheep hybrid anyway, they’d decided to crash for a while. The plush, green moss that lined the floor of the casm providing them both a very effective cushion.

Many people, Tango mused, would say poker was ineffective with only two players, those people are losers and should not be listened to. This was going perfectly.

“Tango, you dick, you’ve been hiding cards!” Zedaph pointed accusingly at his sock, where the corner of the seven of hearts could be seen poking out of.

“Wha- Zed? No! How could you think so little of me?!” He spluttered indignantly, shoving the traitorous piece of paper back down. 

“Well unless the half your hand magically despawned then-“ 

SCREEEECH

The pair jolted backwards, as a terrifying form threw itself out of the rift, (the huge crack in the base’s wall which Grian had assured them all proved perfectly harmless). If he hadn’t been so busy scrambling away, Tango would’ve scoffed, ‘Just for decoration,’ what bullshit. 

The mob appeared to be a Piglin Brute, with all the characteristics of the species. Yet there was something different about it, something more. Having fought his way through many Bastions before, Tango was well-versed in the art of Brute spotting and one crucial aspect of the breed- of any mob really- was the eyes. The mobs on the Hermitcraft server were not sentient. Smart, sure. But they could not think as the players could, their eyes were often cloudy, unfocused, all encompassed by their one statutory goal of murder.

This beast however looked sharp, quick, more lifelike than any piglin the blazeborn had ever seen before. Its dark eyes darted around the room, and it adjusted the grip on a hefty golden axe before advancing menacingly.

Zedaph ran towards him, pulling him away by the sleeve of his jumper. Tango fell into the other man’s form slightly and they both stumbled, losing ground quickly. The Piglin was jogging now and the pair turned around, beginning to run when the dreadful sound of the brutes' advancement stopped abruptly - replaced by a shrill cry of pain. Whipping around, Tango watched in awe as Zedaph slashed the piglin’s shoulder with a netherite sword. The monster howled and a spray of rancid, dark blood painted the pale floor black as the sword hit its target. The brute shouted in anger again and barrelled right at Zed, who shifted his fighting stance, twirling the blade in his right hand. Odd considering the man was left-handed. The blade shone with power, not only enchantment but something stronger, a force field that encompassed the netherite, its loyal purple flames licking the sides of its wielder’s hands. 

The Piglin struck again, its weapon catching the side of Zedaph’s torso as he spun away. The man cursed under his breath but regained composure quickly, propelling himself forward, and shoving his sword up, through the mouth of the beast. Darkened blood exploded out of the incision, marring Zedaph’s pale hair and coating the Piglin, transforming it from relatively scary to the substance of nightmares.  

The monster thrashed and writhed in pain, spinning in every direction, desperately trying to hit its target before its inevitable end. Tango flinched as it screeched once more, and an arm curled around him protectively. He felt his mouth drop open as he turned and stared directly into the face of his best friend, pressed flush against his back. He looked just as incredulous as Tango felt. 

He turned back around, the Piglin swung its axe down sloppily and Zedaph rolled quickly out of the way. He turned back, Zedaph was still holding him tightly, purple eyes wide, reflecting the bright light of the rift. Back and forth, back and forth, it was him, they were both- 

Zedaph. 

But not quite, not identical, not indistinguishable. The newcomer had a different outfit, his usual soft jumper replaced by a tightly fitting dress shirt, its dark blue folds clinging to the man’s form as he dodged and weaved, landing blow after blow against the monster. 

It couldn’t be, and yet it was. Tango closed his eyes and blinked very hard, but both were still there when he opened them again. 

The Piglin swung his weapon in a huge arc, aiming directly for Zedaph’s chest, it was fast, but the other was faster. Catching the axe handle as it gained momentum, the man’s entire body ricocheting backwards with the force of stopping the fast-moving object. That same purple energy that graced his sword was flowing from his hands and trailed up his arms. 

Winded from the calibre of the blow he’d sustained, the sheep hybrid panted as he snapped the axe handle in half, dropping the wooden piece to the floor, before finally pivoting and burying the weapon’s head deep within the stomach of the Brute. Zedaph- his Zedaph gasped in shock, backing up from the fight, distancing himself a fair way from Tango. Who watched in horror as the mob screeched, swayed and then toppled, laying still for a moment before disintegrating into particles. 

The man in front of them wiped the blood from his forehead and looked up, taking in the room for the first time since he’d arrived through the portal. The longer he stood there, the longer Tango noticed just how different he was from the man behind him. Older for one, not by many years but enough for it to show around his eyes. He had a new scar as well, which graced the bottom of his nose. His horns seemed larger, curling in a way which made him appear incredibly wise in comparison to Zed’s simple C-shaped appendages.  

But he was still Zedaph, indisputably his best friend. The man’s expression brightened significantly as he locked eyes with Tango. Who was taken aback as he sprung into action, sprinting forward and reaching him in no time. 

“Oh, thank Goodness you’re okay!” 

Barreling into him, the sheep hybrid cupped Tango’s face with one hand, pressing a gentle, relieved kiss to his lips. The Blazeborn gasped into the embrace, pain and anger and delight all simultaneously erupting inside of him. Zed’s hands on his face, Zed holding him carefully like he was something valuable, something precious- It was everything he’d ever wanted, for years now. But it was also wrong. Utterly wrong. A puzzle with a piece missing, a black hole at the centre of the universe. 

Zedaph pulled away, unmoving as his eyes roamed Tango’s face, the embrace had been short, five seconds at most but he knew that even that- those few seconds were still far too long to be totally okay with a random hot doppelgänger of your totally platonic best friend kissing you for. 

“I was so worried! We must have left the portal open too long and let one of those nasty piglins slip through!” 

The man laughed, revealing the crinkles around his eyes. It was adorable - Zedaph was a few years younger than Tango and it showed. The other man’s face being considerably smoother than his own, which already had many calluses and wrinkles. The years spent tinkering with redstone
wiring hadn’t exactly done wonders for his skin. Whilst neither of them were young by any stretch of the imagination, it was still unusual seeing such signs on Zed, Tango liked it.

 “-I came out the other side and you weren’t there and- Gosh, remember that time we ended up in the middle of MCC? I- Tango?“

The blaze rods above his head were spinning fast enough to set fire to his hair, and he mentally swatted at them. The damn things were almost sentient, reflecting his mood even when he least wanted them to. Many of the hermits had expressed how cool they thought they were but they were wrong. Fucking annoying was what it was. Causing him to run off or hide in embarrassment far too many times. The list of times included: when Zed would hug him, lingering for slightly too long, when Zed would fall asleep on his chest, it was a ‘sheep thing’ apparently, or when Zed would- well, really just exist. 

Concern and confusion now weighed on the brow of the other man, who squinted as he surveyed the Blazeborn. 

“You’re… not my Tango.” 

“Ngk- No. I’m not.” He spluttered in response, finally turning to face Zed. 

His best friend stood completely still, staring at his doppelgänger, his eyes were narrowed with anger and he was troubling his bottom lip. Tango silently willed Zed to look at him so he could explain- elaborate, but he didn’t. 

“Oh, man! I’ve totally done this wrong again gosh! Why does this keep happening?!” 

The other Zedaph began fighting with his watch, which was sleek and black, a design so modern it was practically futuristic. 

“What the fuck.” 

Zedaph-in-the-blue-shirt looked up at Zedaph-in-the-brown-jumper and Tango wanted to crawl downwards and bury himself there. 

Upon the discovery of- himself? The new arrival perked up even further which was something previously thought impossible.

“Gosh, hello! You’re me, I mean I’m you- we’re us!” 

They both laughed awkwardly,

“That we are…” the other one added, still not sounding entirely convinced. And God, this was already getting confusing. 

“Okay just- stop” Tango held his hand out, “You’re Zedaph one, he pointed at his Zed, and you’re-“ 

“I don’t want to be two!” 

“Okay fine, you’re one,” he gestured at the new Zedaph who puffed up proudly, “and you’re two.” 

“I resent that remark!” 

“Okay! You’re Zed,” he gestured to his sheep hybrid, “and you’re Zedaph, happy?” 

This suggestion wasn’t met with intense resistance so Tango took it as a win, although he was already regretting not picking two wildly different names. Actually, they literally could not have been any closer together but originality hadn’t been his first priority.

-

One visit and examination from an unamused Doc and a very overwhelmed Xisuma later, the three of them were lounging in Zed’s base. Although perhaps lounging was the wrong word, seeing as Tango didn’t think his heartbeat had hit less than 120 beats per minute at any point since the piglin's arrival. 

Doc had discovered that both the Zedaphs were, in fact, genetically identical. However, he did confirm that the older had a good 6 years on the younger. They’d asked the pair to keep the discovery on the down low, but Tango had a sneaking suspicion that Zed had told Impulse already, judging from the consistent buzzing of his communicator. 

“You have to tell us!” Zed whined at his future self’s refusal to explain how he’d arrived here.

“I would-“ Zedaph started, “but I’m not convinced it won’t just cause more problems, especially since I don’t think-“ he cut himself off.

“What?” 

“Nothing”

“Come onnnn tell us!”

Zedaph crumpled in exasperation, “It was for my anniversary okay? I promised- I said we’d go somewhere nice.” 

“We?”

Zedaph gestured around with his hands gracelessly, scrambling for words.

“It- wh- well, Tango.”

“I don’t get it, anniversary for what?” The man’s eyes widened comedically, “You got married?!”

Was it hot in here? Tango was hot.

Zedaph nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’ve always had this ability- I can connect up to any Nether Portal in any dimension or- universe? I guess, and travel from one to another. It’s gone wrong a lot in the past but I really thought I had it right this time!” 

Tango spoke up for the first time in what felt like hours, “So where is he? The- other me?”

Zedaph’s smile vanished, and his eyes grew weary, “I don’t know- I’ve been tracking him on my communicator-” he held up his wrist to show the pair his watch.

“But the signal keeps corrupting and Christ if he’s-“

Silence fell, and nobody spoke for a few seconds.

“One thing I don’t get,” Zed piped up, thankfully changing the subject, “is why you’d bring a belt full of weapons to your anniversary?”

He didn’t seem at all phased by the fact they were fucking- married in the future. But then again, he supposed, no reaction was better than an explosive one.

The older Zedaph squinted at him, “Wouldn’t you? If you were taking him-“ he nodded at Tango, “through a portal, the destination of which you could never be completely sure of?”

Tango felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck and he tugged uncomfortably at his turtleneck. 

Zed didn’t respond, casting his vision down and fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper.

“Oh, sorry,” the other responded, “I forgot you two weren’t a thing here.”

Zed

“I just- I honestly can’t imagine a world in which I didn’t end up loving Tango.”

And yeah, that checked out. Given that said world didn’t exist.

At least not here. 

He chuckled in agreement, now messing with the bracelet on his wrist, a simple thing, red and black thread interspersed throughout. He wondered if this Zedaph had an Evil Xisuma. But then again, his career as Wormman was likely far more effective than Zedaph’s own, seeing as his doppelgänger actually possessed powers. 

Tango shifted in his seat next to him, Zedaph felt awful about the entire situation. His best friend was so clearly uncomfortable and he could do little to help. The shock and- let’s be honest, envy that had possessed him watching himself kiss Tango had been excruciating. Not only had it been nonconsensual, although how could his older self have known, but it felt like a personal ‘fuck you’ from the universe. You try watching a version of yourself from another universe make out with your best friend of whom you’re completely in love with. 

Okay, ‘making out’ was exaggerating but- 

As if he’d read his mind, the other Zedaph sat up like he’d been shot, 

“Oh!” He whispered loudly, “Oh my word I’m so sorry- I meant to apologise earlier but I forgot, I am so sorry for kissing you Tango, I was just so worried and I should’ve taken a second to look and I would’ve realised something was wrong! But I didn’t, I’m so sorry.” 

Tango waved it off, pulling his hair up into a ponytail. “Eh, don’t worry about it, besides, it wasn’t half bad.” 

What.

“Hah!” His other self laughed, “Successful in two universes.”

And just like that the matter was dropped, Tango and Zedaph beginning to recount stories, both amazed by the similarities between their lives. Zedaph didn’t join in, he sat, (admittedly uncharacteristically) quiet and listened. His brain running at a million miles an hour.

Tango didn’t pull away.

The cruel, persistent little voice in the back of his head whispered, over and over again. Which was stupid, he hated himself for dwelling on it, for even noticing! He’d been in shock for heaven's sake! Zed refused to take the events for more than they’d been, Tango had no interest in him like that, it was a fact he’d had to accept. And if the image of the blazeborn’s hand curling around his elder self’s waist appeared every time he closed his eyes then it was no bother to him. Because he knew where Tango stood, and he knew where he remained, forever entrenched in a state of longing. Something he’d been perfectly okay with before this guy had turned up!

And if Tango knew now? Figured out that if this version of Zed loved him then it was practically written that he did too? Well, he’d just have to live with that.

There came a point where it was all finally too much. The feelings he’d carefully folded away within his chest beginning to spill out, tangible, heavy. Weighing on his stomach like one of his cats sleeping on him. 

Jealously and hurt and happiness and uncertainty all merged together to form one large, messy amalgamation. He couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t watch Zedaph reach out impulsively to Tango every time he laughed, only to reel himself in at the last minute, curling his palm into a fist in restraint. It seemed fitting somehow, that in both universes he was always holding himself back from his best friend, in one way or another.

Tango

Zed rose quickly from his seat, with the demeanour of a man who’d just made a decision. 

“I’m going to do some research, maybe speak to Grian about the rift.” He blurted, before turning and exiting the room before either of the remaining men could reply. 

Tango bit his lip in worry, his friend had been behaving so unusually; silent and watchful where he was usually bubbling with questions. But he felt himself relax when Zedaph (yes it was still odd) rested a tentative hand on top of his. 

“Don’t worry about him, if I know myself- which I’d hope I do,” he chuckled, “He’s got a couple of things to figure out.” 

Tango hummed in agreement but didn’t take his eyes off the door from which Zed had left.

“Do you love him?”

“Ph-what?!” The blaze rods started to spin again.

Zedaph raised his eyebrows where he sat beside him, looking far too smug for Tango’s liking.

“Come on, you think I can’t tell? I’ve literally been exactly where you are!”

“It’s not- I don’t-“ Tango spluttered, defence weakening by the second. 

“It’s okay, I’m not here to judge, that would be insanely hypocritical of me.” Zedaph laughed and his eyes crinkled. 

Tango couldn’t take anymore. “What is your Tango like?” He asked, hastening to change the subject.

Zedaph sighed contently, leaning back on the sofa and throwing himself into the new discussion.

“He’s brilliant… Calling him ‘clever’ would be an insult to his intelligence because he’s so much smarter than that! It’s honestly incredible to behold, I mean- I play around with pistons, sure. But the way he uses them, uses all redstone- he makes it look like an art, like something beautiful where everything just- fits into place. Yet he never makes me feel stupid because he’s so violently humble, it’s sweet really. He knows he’s incredible, he has to! But he never shows it, never places himself above anyone else, not even the most incompetent builder.”

The man paused briefly for breath but then continued. “-But for me it was his personality that did it, made me want to be his friend. He’s kind and he’s hysterically funny, always going along with whatever stupid joke I’ve come up with, I’ve never met anyone so willing to drop everything to help me fly sheep across the sky! My Tango’s just different, but I guess that’s what makes him so special.”

If you’d have asked Tango later why he did it, he wouldn’t have been able to give you an answer. Love, frustration, jealousy for his other self, he truly couldn’t say. But as Zedaph finished speaking, every feeling he’d worked so hard to squash down over the course of the day rose up in him, twisting and turning. Zedaph looked up at him then, smiling, huge purple eyes glinting in the firelight of Tango’s blaze rods. It was just then, he would realise upon recollection, that he couldn’t take it anymore.

Tango threw himself forward and kissed Zedaph desperately, one hand cupping his face, the other bunched up in his shirt.

For a moment, as Zedaph reciprocated, bringing them closer together, Tango allowed himself to pretend. To imagine that this was his Zed, his curls tickling Tango’s face. With his eyes closed, he shut out all of the external factors screaming at him, telling him this was wrong, this Zedaph already had a Tango, one that wasn’t him. But God, it felt right, him and Zed. It wasn’t like they didn’t already spend every waking hour in each other's company, always teetering on the last step of becoming something else, a hair's breadth away from more than friends. A leap Tango was never brave enough to take, to risk. 

He drew away quickly after that, the consequences of his action lying heavily on his consciousness. Zedaph only stared at him, he did not yell, nor did he curse Tango out, he just watched, waiting for him to speak. 

Tango broke eye contact first, looking away in shame. 

“That was selfish, I’m sorry.” He was furious with himself for being so weak, he’d spent years suppressing the urge to grab the collar of Zedaph’s lab coat and pull him in - why did he suddenly have to lose all self-restraint?

“It’s alright,” Zedaph said kindly, he pulled gently on Tango’s jumper, coaxing him back around, “It’s okay, Tango.”

“But your T-“

“My husband-“ Zedaph cut him off, “has been exactly where you are right now, if anyone would understand how you’re feeling right now, it’s Tango and I.” 

He nodded, looking down at the floor once more. 

“Hey,” Zedaph lifted his chin up to face him, “You’re alright. I promise, but I have a sneaking suspicion that out of both the Zedaphs, I’m not the one you really wanted to kiss just then.” 

He felt his face flush at the suggestion, but Zedaph didn’t mock him, he just smiled, his kind eyes suddenly seeming much older than ever before. The man stood up and planted a kiss on the top of Tango’s head.

“Get some sleep okay? He’ll be back in the morning,” Zedaph said, turning to leave.

“How do you know?” 

“Because he’s me.”

-

They’d all agreed to stay overnight in Zedaph’s base. The hole was smaller than most bases on the server, yet surprisingly roomy. Many bedrooms existed, insulated and everything! It had come as a shock to Tango, who clearly hadn’t done enough exploring. 

His sleep was restless and interrupted, he kept waking up, hoping to hear Zed’s return. But either he missed the sound of the door creaking open, or the man did not come home that night.

When he finally awoke after the sun had risen, Tango pulled on a soft hoodie he’d left here a few weeks ago and crept into the hallway.

Bare feet padding along the quartz floor, he tentatively pushed open the door to Zed’s room, deflating as he caught sight of the unslept-in bed. He wasn’t a hundred per cent sure what had spooked his friend, but Tango imagined it’d been a combination of yourself-from-a-different-universe-who-also-has-powers-kissing-your-best-friend-infront-of-you-oh!-and-they’re-also-married-surprise!!! would maybe be enough to drive a man away. 

He met up with Zedaph in the kitchen, who was hunched over Tango’s computer, having borrowed it given that none of his luggage followed him through the rift. The man looked tidy enough, yet something about his posture screamed ‘exhausted.’

“Did you sleep?” He asked, helping himself to what was in Zed’s cupboards. And making a mental note to sit the man down and have another serious discussion surrounding his mini egg-hoarding habits. 

“They only sell them at Easter Tangs, it’s a scandal! I have to stock up!”

“There are fifty-two bags here, Zed.”

Zedaph made a so-so gesture in reply, eyes fixated on the screen in front of him. 

“I’m nearly there- I can sense it. He’s so close.” 

“You mean Tango?” 

Zedaph hummed in confirmation. The screen displaying various frequency waves all in different colours. The red one was labelled ‘T’ which Tango could assume represented Zedaph’s husband, but the rest were a tangled mess. He could decipher nothing from the entwinement of lines, but if it meant something to Zedaph then he was happy his laptop could be of service. 

“I'm assuming Zed’s not back yet?”

“No.”

“Well, at least we’re alone together.” 

“I- don’t know if that’s reassuring or not.”

Zedaph shrugged, crunching on a chocolate egg. Tango spun around at the noise, he hadn’t even seen the man reach into the cupboard! At Least he knew his Zedaph prototype wasn’t the only one with this odd infatuation. 

A few hours passed, Zedaph glaring at the screen of the laptop as if it had personally offended him, and Tango starting a new blueprint for Decked Out, offering help where he could.

Eventually, Impulse stopped by to put them both out of their misery. Delighted to meet Zedaph, he’d insisted on giving him a tour of Team Soup’s base, and the pair had left imminently. Zedaph being able to monitor the vitals through his communicator. They’d extended an invitation to Tango, but he’d declined graciously, not wanting to impose.

But- He was sick of stewing in his own thoughts. It was clear that he needed a distraction, something mindless, something easy.

He needed to go to the Citadel.

Zed

God, this was stupid, he’d been wandering around for hours without a clear goal in his mind.

Having slept over at Xisuma’s base, the sheep hybrid had had plenty of time to assess the situation; he should’ve figured it out by now! Crafted the perfect thing to say, so that everything would just go back to normal, so he’d stop feeling so unsure, all of the time. He just wanted things to be easy again. But had they ever been?

When the man had finally managed to make up his mind, he’d returned home to an empty base, the only inhabitants being his dangling animals. A note had been left on the table in his own loopy handwriting, (still weird) explaining where his elder self had gone. The chicken scratch added at the bottom revealed Tango’s whereabouts. 

Zed altered his objective accordingly, he was going to go to Decked Out, and apologise to Tango for; A) His mood the previous day, and B) The exceedingly obvious fact that his feelings for the other man were less than strictly platonic.

He couldn’t stand the idea of his friend hating him, or being weirded out by his presence.

Tango had never questioned when Zed would come around to his base just to watch quietly as he did Redstone. And neither of them ever pointed out that the whole ‘falling asleep beside each other’ thing was maybe not an activity best friends actively partook in. Zedaph knew he’d been stretching the boundaries of what was acceptable for quite some time and this must have finally breached the line for Tango. 

And yet- his mind was made up, he had to remedy the situation before it spiralled out of control. And maybe it already had.

-

The rain had started just as he’d equipped his elytra, the wings becoming sodden and heavy with accumulated water. Unperturbed, he decided to make the journey on foot. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the way by now. 

The soft grass morphed into mud underfoot as the droplets of water continued their siege on the landscape. Zed quickly reached a point of no return, wherein the water no longer had any effect on him - given he couldn’t humanly get any wetter. His cold, soggy hair lay flat on his head, its usual bouncy curls depleted. 

His jumper clung to him like a lifeline, and Zed pulled the heavy item off the moment he stepped over the threshold of Decked Out 2. His t-shirt underneath was no less wet but at least it didn’t weigh an extra 20 pounds. Bundling up the bedraggled knitwear in his arms, Zed surveyed the lobby of the Citadel. Nothing appeared out of place, in fact, the building was eerily quiet.

“Tango?”

He shouted into the black stone abyss. Waiting a moment before calling again. 

“Tango? You here?”

His own voice echoed back at him, reverberating off of the dark walls, mocking him.

He waited a few more seconds, then- a shuffling sound, followed by a crash and a bang, and suddenly two bright red eyes were peeking around a corner at the top of the stairs. 

Zedaph felt the terror leave his body as he relaxed at the sight of his friend. He knew he must seem ridiculous, dripping rainwater all over Tango’s polished floor. The blazeborn looked down at him from the second floor, hands clasping the balcony like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

“I- can we talk?”

Tango stared at him for a moment, before silently turning around and walking away. Zed opened his mouth to protest- he’d beg if he had to, but the man returned quickly holding a voluminous fluffy towel and a small, tentative smile. Zedaph grinned and hastened to join him, taking the steps two at a time.

It was times like this when he was exceedingly glad he’d bullied Tango into building a living room and bedroom in the Citadel. After catching the man asleep next to a pile of repeaters one too many times, the hybrid had been forced to take drastic action. 

The extension was a comfortably sized room, Two plush sofas took up the first third, the rest filled with a small kitchen and storage. It was, admittedly, not winning any home decor awards, but anything was an improvement from the vast expanses of redstone wiring and deepslate which the rest of the building consisted of. 

Before he could take a seat, the towel was thrust into his arms, Tango swapping it out for his still-sodden jumper. Finally laughing as Zedaph shook his hair out.

They grinned at each other as Tango wiped the droplets of water off his face. 

“I missed you.” He admitted and Zed felt his stomach flip. Something had changed in Tango, he seemed… more open now. Almost as if a weight he’d been bearing had vanished. Zedaph passed the towel over his damp arms, deciding to focus on the motion instead of Tango’s eyes. 

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Zedaph sat down on the closest sofa, and Tango followed. They sat facing each other, close enough for their knees to bump. 

“Listen, Tango, I-“

“I kissed him.” The other man blurted out, speaking over each other.

“Wha- sorry?!” Zed short-circuited for a moment. “You mean the older me? I know!”

Tango brought his knees up to his chest protectively, “No I- I did it again.” 

An incredulous laugh tore its way out of him, “Sorry, I must be hearing this wrong, you did what!?”

Tango didn’t respond. 

Zed ran a hand over his face, still laughing in disbelief. The other man's expression was unreadable, he was staring at the floor, refusing to look up at him. 

Zed could feel his self-restraint cracking, he’d spent years completely and utterly head over heels for his best friend. And this, older, cooler version of him rocks up and instantly throws everything he’d ever known into uncertainty. 

“Is it me, Tango?“ The man was taken aback by just how cold his voice sounded. It felt- wrong. 

“What is it about me that’s just so unlovable?”

“What?!” The other man cried, “No, Zed! You don’t get it!” He seemed close to tears now, voice cracking. 

He could feel an intense pressure building in his throat, uncertainty and hurt made tangible. 

“Then make me understand! Because right now I’m pretty fucking confused!”

“I-“

ImpulseSV whispered to you: It’s Zedaph, come quickly, I’ve found Tango. 

Zedaph stared through tears at Tango, who’d just received the same message he had. The man looked devastated, and it broke Zed’s heart seeing him so distraught. He stood up regardless, picking up his jumper from the coffee table. 

“Well then,” he said sharply, “we better go.”

“Zed!” Tango protested, grabbing his arm as he turned away. But the blonde shook him off,

“I’m going back to the base, see you there.”

Tango

Watching Zed’s back as he left, Tango brought his hand up to his face in an attempt to quell his quiet sobbing. 

Zed had been here for all of ten minutes and he’d already ruined their friendship beyond repair. 

Why did I tell him?! A small voice within him cried. But realistically, Tango knew that he couldn’t have lived with himself keeping that secret from Zed. Especially if there was a chance- Well, it didn’t matter now. 

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Tango picked up the towel his friend had left behind. The feeling of the soft material under his fingers made him want to break down again, his relationship with Zed was something so safe, so comfortable. Or at least it had been. All Tango knew was that he had to explain himself, had to come clean fully, or he’d risk losing Zedaph forever. 

“What is it about me that’s just so unlovable?”

The question repeated over and over in his mind as he began the treck to Zedaph’s base. The hurt- pain even, in Zed’s voice wounded Tango in a way he’d never experienced before. It was agonising, knowing he’d caused his best friend to feel that way, to truly believe the worst of himself because of him. He loved the idiot so much, and he could acknowledge that this was his fault. And yet- as guilty as he felt, he couldn’t stop wondering, hoping, that Zed meant what he thought he had. It was traitorous, selfish but God, he wanted Zed to mean that. Because if he had, maybe there was still a chance for them after all.

Arriving at the base, he was greeted with the sight of not one, but two very distressed Zedaphs. The elder frantically securing his chestplate, practically vibrating with anxiety whilst Zed rummaged in a chest, procuring golden apples and cobblestone. 

“What’s going on?” He broke the spell.

Zedaph whipped his head around at the sound.

“We’re going to the Nether!”

No. Oh, God anywhere but there.

Please.

He chuckled joylessly, “W-why?”

“Tango did come through the portal! But the server malfunctioned, it read his code as that of a blaze instead of a player, and sent him to a fortress! I knew there was something wrong with his signal, he was so close- almost touchable. It all makes sense now!”

“Right, well- I’ll, uh, get armoured up then.” 

Zed caught his eye from the corner, his purple irises tainted with concern, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. So fleeting was the look that Tango thought he might have imagined it. 

He’d told Zed all about his upbringing in the Nether. Well, mostly. Some bits had been too gruesome, still cut too deep even after all these years. But, illuminated by the light of his crackling fireplace, Zed would ask, occasionally. He’d run his hands over Tango’s bare arms, tracing the scars that littered the skin there. When he was warm enough, safe enough, comfortable enough in his best friend’s embrace, Tango would tell the stories.

Stories of the lava, the vastless, baron landscapes, the metal, hot and slick, the punishments, the shame. The Nether was a cesspit of everything Tango hated about himself, every cut, scrape, scar, or burn he possessed came from that wretched place, the very picture of Hell.

But would he go through it all again if it meant Zed would look at him one more time? Stroke his hair? Say his name?

He thought so. 

And sure, this Nether wasn’t his Nether. No, that place, his village, had been long destroyed. Left, unloaded and outdated somewhere across the strings of code that made up the universe, a star in the all-encompassing void of the End. So fear was futile, right? 

“What is it about me that’s just so unlovable?”

Zed had everything gathered now and was looking very hard at anywhere that wasn’t Tango. His slightly damp hair was pulled back into a low bun under his netherite helmet. The prongs of which framed his face perfectly. It felt odd to see his beautifully soft friend in such dark, sharp armour. But it did well to remind him of where they were heading. 

-

Stepping out onto the netherack was one of the hardest things he’d done all month. Doing so felt like signing a contract, forged in blood, he couldn’t go back now. The Nether Hub loomed beautifully above them. It had taken Tango countless sleepless nights, building until his arms hurt and his head ached. The other hermits had spoiled him with compliments regarding the elegant structure, but to Tango, it was just another building - a painting he’d looked at for too long. 

He glanced at Zed again but was met only with the back of the man’s head. 

Over the course of the journey, Tango tried everything he could think of without dismissing the goal of the mission. He deliberately dropped his stack of torches whilst handing them to Zed, hoping, foolishly, that the hybrid would help him pick them up. But he only watched coldly as Tango scrambled to scoop them all back up again. He’d tried loudly coughing, staring longingly, staring angrily, anything that might prompt his friend to just- look at him. 

Zed was stony toward Zedaph too, but at least he spoke to the man! The pair mulling over the coordinates displayed on the older man’s watch. Apparently, once they’d figured out where the other Tango was, accessing his location had been relatively simple. 

He walked aimlessly, as if through a haze, shutting his eyes wherever possible. His terror of losing Zed forever almost cancelling out his fear of the Nether.

The keyword being almost. 

“Then make me understand! Because right now I’m pretty fucking confused!”

Please

“What is it about me that’s just so unlovable?”

I didn’t mean to

“Tango!”

Zedaph’s hand on his shoulder shook him out of his stupor. 

“Ngk!” He grunted, “Yes, sorry- present! Reporting for duty!” He chuckled nervously.

His companions stared at him, confused. 

“Right…” Zedaph changed the topic, “I think we’re here- I can’t be sure because I don’t know how big this Fortress is but we’re only a hundred blocks out.”

Fortress?

Tango had been so consumed in thought he had completely failed to notice the grotesque structure the group had stopped in front of. 

Warped bricks filled his vision, a wall between him and the rest of the dimension. Regardless of being naturally generated, the nether bricks of the Fortress were unequipped to handle the heat of the underworld. The mortar between them seeped out of every gap, forming a scorching hot, bubbling mess. Which coated the sides of the structure.

The Blazeborn shook himself, pushing the rising nausea down and pillaring up in pursuit of the other two. The familiarity of the low walls and high fence posts was making his stomach turn, not to mention his blaze rods twirl. Their panic was so intense that the movement formed a fiery inferno on top of his head - not that there was anything he could do now. No excuse he could make to leave.

He caught Zed watching him worriedly out of the corner of his eye after about sixty blocks. This should’ve been a victory, considering the goal of the past hour. But the anxiety boiling inside of him took priority in his list of things to pay attention to. 

“Alright, Tango?” Zedaph asked, eyeing him cautiously. 

“Fine.” He choked, ”Go find him.” 

“Okay- I can handle this, I think you should stay with Tango, Zed. Keep a lookout - don’t let any wither skeletons sneak up on me.”

“Yeah- okay.”

Christ, was it hot in here?

Zedaph sped off, and his doppelgänger turned around, concern lacing his every move. The man’s icy demeanour seemed to have thawed slightly, and he approached Tango with one hand extended, although it curled into a fist the second the man was within touching distance, as if he’d regretted the action. 

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Nope.” He bit out.

“Tango-“

“It’s fine Zed!“ They stared at each other in silence for a number of minutes, before Tango conceded and took an (uncomfortable) seat on the ground. 

Silently, Zed produced a vial of orange liquid from his inventory and rolled it across the bricks to him. It’s glass container melting from the heat, sticking to the hot floor. The older man picked it up silently, surveying its contents. It was a fire resistance potion.  

“You know this doesn’t work on me right?“ He gestured to the still flaming rods encircling his head. “Blazeborn? Born in Hell? Ringing any bells here?” 

Zed chuckled breathily, “I know you, idiot, you said it acts like water right? Well, we can’t bring any with us, and you look like you need a drink.” 

Tango smiled against his will, “I do, but something much stronger than water.” 

He looked down at the vial again, “Thank you,” he murmured in defeat before drinking its contents. Cool and refreshing as it slid down his throat, the potion proved a magnificent contrast to the baron and dry landscape.

“I know this place is hard for you to be in - I’m sure we can wait outside and-“

Tango cut him off, “You’re meant to be mad at me, remember?”

He couldn’t hear it again- especially not from Zed, didn’t want to be reminded of his upbringing any more than he currently was. 

“No, I-“

“Just- go back to ignoring me. It’s easier that way.”

That was mean.

Shut up. 

A few minutes passed and the effect of the potion settled solidly on his chest. Whilst no less calm, he felt cooler, not as tense. 

Apart from that, there was nothing notable to document, other than an occasional wither skeleton kill, and one enderman appearance (they’d both ignored it until he got bored and teleported away). 

The telltale rattling of bones was their cue to stand up once more. Swords out and shields up, they advanced upon the creature. As if it had heard his thoughts, the skeleton snarled at the players. Its distorted and stretched limbs gave it a distinct height advantage. But, severely outnumbered as it was, the 6 foot monster stood little chance, and they killed it easily. 

Tango’s guard was lowered from the quick defeat, which was one of a multitude of reasons as to why he failed to notice the huge, hurtling ball of flame speeding toward them until it was too late. The impact of the ghast’s attack sent both men flying. Tango landed on his stomach, crying out loud as he felt his back twinge angrily. 

Coughing on the smoke that filled his lungs, he looked up to see Zed curled up into a ball. Bile present and acidic in his mouth, he ran over, kneeling down beside his friend. 

“I’m fine,” Zed assured him, moving to stand up. “It just winded me.”

Tango looked around sharply for their attacker. It was nowhere to be seen, but the gurgling cries of the creature let him know that they weren’t safe yet. 

“Zed, I-“ 

The moment he took his eyes off of the sky, disaster struck. The screech of the ghast echoed around the flat, empty landscape, reverberating in his ears. Tango reached for his bow at his hip but it was gone. And the next thing he knew, he was being thrown sideways.

Zed moved him desperately out of the way, pushing him roughly up against the wall of the fortress, moving them, as an item, out of view of the ghast. The pair waited for a moment, listening closely, but the ghast’s sobs quickly faded, they’d broken it’s line of sight. 

Their eyes met and he breathed a sigh of relief, “thanks, I-“ 

Zed drew their mouths together sharply. Pushing whatever words Tango had been planning to say back down. He gasped into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s neck and leaning into the embrace like he needed it to live. 

So this was what it felt like. To be held by Zedaph. To be drawn in, willingly. To be the receiver instead of the instigator. It was perfect, indescribably so. The pair moved in perfect tandem, the sheep hybrid cupping the back of Tango’s neck, slowly stroking the hair there. It was a feeling utterly incomparable to anything else he’d ever experienced, and he pulled the other man impossibly closer, holding him tightly in his arms. 

“Oh!” A familiar voice exclaimed.

“Oh, they’re adorable, Zed! You didn’t tell me they were so young!”

Tango drew away (unwillingly) and gaped at the sight of, well- himself. This Tango was far older than him, sure. But his stance was that of a much younger man. Draped effortlessly over his husband, he stood with an air of complete comfort. As if he was completely unphased by everything occurring. 

The newcomer had several yellow streaks in his ginger hair, which was pulled up into a messy (and slightly singed) bun. His blaze rods were longer and better behaved, bobbing up and down contentedly as he surveyed them, an easy, laid-back grin on his face. 

“You found him!” Zed exclaimed, hand lingering over Tango’s waist for a split second, before he moved away, kindly allowing the other man to push himself off the wall.

Zedaph

The theory of precedence toys with the idea of priority. 

When two, equally shocking events occur simultaneously, which does the body choose to process first? How does it decide? Can that decision ever truly be made? And if so, is it conscious or unconscious? 

Zed was pretty sure the technical term for what his brain was doing was ‘short-circuiting’. He’d acknowledged that dealing with double the Zedaphs must have been difficult for Tango but he never fully understood just how hard. Until now.

“I- It’s nice to meet you.” He stumbled over his words slightly, feeling distinctly overwhelmed. (What with not one but two Tangos looking at him). 

The new Tango had more lines on his face, yet fewer creases on his brow. His hair was longer, tied up artistically, and his eyes were kinder. The bright crimson of his irises had darkened, settling somewhere around a deep, wine-red colour. And he had a neck tattoo. A neck tattoo! Zedaph had an arm wrapped around his waist and the couple leaned into each other easily. The sight instantly making him miss the contact with Tango. 

The kiss had been objectively stupid.

Fact.

Although, it was difficult to see it that way after what had transpired. Zed had been so irrevocably hurt by Tango kissing his doppelgänger, and the pain it had caused him had been no small thing. But watching the man shake and sweat, shrinking in on himself, had caused him to instinctively abandon his anger, the urgent, unavoidable urge to take care of his friend overtaking it. 

He never could have kissed Tango before that point. Without being sure, or- almost sure that his feelings were reciprocated. Kissing Tango wasn’t something you did once then forgot about, it was the start of something. An addiction perhaps. It demanded continuation, something Zed was more than happy to give. 

Ideally, he would’ve liked to have waited for an apology first, or an explanation. But when he’d pushed his friend away from the fireball, against the wall, he’d fallen victim to his huge, cat-like eyes. Their genuinely solemn stare was one full of emotion and desire and, really, what was he meant to have done? 

Seeing this older version of his friend instantly took Zedaph one step closer to understanding why Tango had done what he had. If the latter hadn't had his lips on his just a few minutes ago, and Zed had still been stuck in a perpetual state of longing. He couldn’t honestly say he wouldn’t have made the same mistake. 

He wasn’t justifying it but like- he understood. Okay? 

-

The walk back was long, but cut shorter by the joyous exchanges made between the married couple. Who were objectively adorable, and no, he wasn’t biased. Why would you say that? 

Their younger doppelgängers followed behind, hands brushing each other every few steps. But atleast the irony of neither of them biting the bullet and clasping the other's hand was not lost on him; (considering how up close and personal they’d been less than an hour ago).

Eventually, the journey dwindled to a halt as the red landscape faded into the elaborately built Nether Hub. They stepped into the portal and Zed could feel Tango shaking next to him.

Shutting his eyes to avoid nausea, he swore never to let Tango come back, no matter the reason. He’d do anything to ensure it. 

The Portal deposited them right back where they’d started, next to Zed’s array of beacons. 

He didn’t realise he was instinctively reaching for Tango before his hand was closed around the Blazeborn’s arm. The man smiled sheepishly at him, a slight dust of pink covering his cheeks and Zed grinned back. But his attention was quickly stolen by their companions who were leant together, arguing softly. 

“Just talk to them!”

“No, he can’t know!” 

“Fine, we split up.” 

“Fine!”

Zedaph took Zed’s arm and led him decisively off to the side. Leaving the other two Tangos to talk.

“What’s wrong?” He asked his doppelgänger.

“Nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously! Nothing, we just wanted a word with our- respective selves.” He paused for a minute, seemingly gathering himself. 

“You just… you have no idea how lucky you are to have him. I know you think you do, but-“ Zedaph swallowed hard, then continued determinedly.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done this- met another version of me- of us. And… not every version got what we have, not every Zedaph gets their Tango.” 

“They don’t love each other?”

Zedaph shook his head, “I’ve never witnessed a universe in which they didn’t love each other. But this existence is a dangerous one, remember when Tango went to space?” 

His stomach lurched.

“In most universes, he didn’t come back.”

“But-“

“I don’t know why, I don’t know how. I just don’t want you to forget how special he is. Because you’ll fight okay? You’ll argue and there’ll be nights where you sleep on the sofa and you question everything. Your relationship, your life together, him, you- But every morning after a disagreement you’ll still wake up and- sure you’ll have a bad back from the couch - but you’ll eat breakfast together. Because you’re me-“ He looked over to his husband. “And he’s him.” 

Zed nodded.

“I wish you nothing but the best, Zed- seriously.” The man smiled widely and patted Zed’s shoulder.

He grinned back, the sombre moment broken. “You too, enjoy your anniversary, for real this time!” 

Zedaph turned to leave but halted mid-step, suddenly backtracking.

“Oh, and if you ever smash the glass vase he keeps by the sink- it was the cat okay? He’ll believe it.”

Zed opened his mouth to respond but the man was already out of earshot. He watched as he wrapped an arm around his partner and together they walked back to where they’d come from. 

With a touch of Zedaph’s pointer finger, the magic encircling the Nether Portal glowed a hot, luminous, pink and they stepped through together, arm in arm. 

After a few seconds, the pink ebbed away and the portal returned to its usual, magenta colour. Taking with it the last remnants of Zedaph and Tango. The portal whooshed ominously, as if bidding the couple farewell.

Looking up, the sheep hybrid gasped.

It was although the previous pink of the gateway’s light had been transferred to the hues of the sky, the sun’s regal descent casting the two men in a beautiful, warm glow. 

Zed turned to look at Tango, whose red eyes sparkled like rubies in the evening’s shine. 

“I’m sorry-“ he started, “for everything, I-“ But Tango cut him off with a tight hug. 

Zed welcomed it, reaching a (slightly shaky) hand up to stroke the back of his head. His friend's face was buried deep within his neck, holding him firmly. And the sheep hybrid melted into the embrace, gasping quietly as Tango placed a gentle kiss to the soft skin there. 

They drew apart gradually, for there was no rush, no emergency to run toward, no problem to be solved, only time stretching ahead of them in plains.

As he surveyed Zed, Tango’s smile spoke of joy, hope and mischief. And eventually, he spoke up, tentatively interlocking their fingers. 

“How about we finish that poker game?” 

Zed laughed loudly, “What, the one that you rigged? I’m not sure… How about we start again?” He nudged Tango’s shoulder, “No cheating this time!”

This was met with a theatrical gasp, “Me? Never!”

“Uh-huh.”  

Together, they retreated inside, turning their backs on the moon, since the sun was now firmly set, ready to rest.

Upon entering his base, Tango lit a fire easily and instinctively nestled himself into the worn-down sofa opposite. It was nice. It always was.

Zed won at poker.