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The Shadowguy fell first. There was no big, dramatic revelation; nor a period of denial; just a delightful realization one day as they were sitting in the room together—quiet, comfortable. Oh, I think I'm in love with them.
It was clear as day, a lovely feeling—nothing new, but he was pleasantly surprised anyway. He didn't know if the other two would ever feel the same, but he knew he'd be okay with it no matter what. Silly, flirty Shadowguy became the norm for them: "Ah, dat's just how he is. What a sweetheart!". He'd blow one kisses when the other wasn't looking, or pull them into group hugs when they did especially well, or make the stupid jokes he always felt inclined to anyway (to the Pippins' embarrassment).
He was content just loving them with no reciprocation, but he hoped the others could feel the same. He saw the way the Zapper blushed when he held their hands, thumbs rubbing gentle circles as if to tell them something important. The Pippins shied away from his hugs on occassion, but he didn't miss the way he looked back at him when he thought it'd go unnoticed. Most surprising of all, he bore witness to their comments about each other in between shifts: "The big guy's doin' pretty good lately. I'm real proud of 'em," said with a voice too shaky to have completely platonic intentions; "Da boss seems real happy. I wonder what's got him in such a good mood," said with a wiggle and twinkling in infrared. He'd grin every time, nodding along.
Every few nights, he'd lie in bed and smile, allowing himself the guilty pleasure of imagining the three of them sharing a life together.
The Zapper fell next, and slowly at that. It started as little flutters of the heart when they'd see the others smile, or a warm and fuzzy feeling whenever they'd brush fingers with one of them. The way the Shadowguy would snuggle up to them on the couch, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. The way the Pippins would cling onto their arm after an especially tiring day, almost afraid that they'd leave.
The feeling was foreign to them, but it eventually became undeniable. They had a crush. Not a badass kind of love like in the westerns they'd watch, but a crush, like the college-age protagonists in those movies that the Pippinses would watch on weekends, crowding around the flatscreen. A kick-your-feet-and-giggle, avert-your-eyes-when-they're-near type of crush. Big and embarrassing.
They didn't know what to do. They hadn't felt this feeling in a long time, and never to this extent. How could they approach their coworkers about it? Would it ruin everything if they let it get out?
This dilemma followed them until one day, where the Shadowguy sat down next to them on the couch, as if the concept of personal space didn't exist to him. They didn't mind.
Their head buzzed as the thoughts stirred around in the back of their mind, almost arrangeable into words yet somehow just slightly out of reach. They seized a sentence, stuttering through the start. "I think I—"
The Shadowguy looked at them, squeezing their hand, and the words left their brain again. They knew he knew, though, by the way he smiled and blushed. They didn't know why they were worried in the first place. It all seemed so silly now.
The Pippins was—uncharacteristically—fashionably late, but when he fell, he fell hard.
At first, he pretended it was nothing. The way the other two seemed to be attached at the hip at times? Maybe they were just really good friends! The pang of upset in his heart was just stress, nothing more. He had too much on his plate to think about such unnecessary feelings. It probably wasn't healthy, he occasionally thought, but Mike couldn't wait for him to more than notice his emotions, much less grapple with them like they deserved.
But more and more, he'd feel comfortable, happy even, around his coworkers, and didn't want to go back to work so quickly. He'd notice the way they brushed hands during movie nights, exchanging looks like they were sharing secrets, and he'd think, Damn, I want in on that, before the embarrassment immediately set in. He'd hear them planning to head to the bar after work, and for once, that sounded more appealing to him than romancing his corkboard with his theories.
He figured it out eventually, the little theorist he was. It was love! Of course! How did he not know earlier, he asked himself, like he wasn't completely aware for way too long and just repressing it. It was his intention to sit them down for a talk, all-too-serious, and confess his feelings properly—his words planned out and all—but when he saw them the next day, it just spilled out.
"You two. I've got, uh, feelings about you guys."
They looked at each other before responding, one simply nodding knowingly.
"We know, Boss."