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Battat felt his eye twitch as he held up the remains of his costumes. The poor thing was practically in ribbons at places. Pluey sat nearby, nonchalantly curled into a loaf.
"Goddamnit, Pluey," Battat hissed. "I know this was you."
Pluey looked over at him and blinked those stupid pink and yellow eyes innocently.
"How am I even gonna fix this?" Battat groaned. "You're not even a real cat, you know. You're a grown ass man."
Pluey looked away and smugly continued his melodic purr.
"Oh Mike~!" Tenna called. "Could you come here?"
Battat reflexively moved toward the door before freezing in place. He couldn't do anything until he fixed his costume.
Pluey let out a musical trill and slipped out the door past him.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up; your costume still sucks," Battat grumbled to the empty air.
He needed time to sit down and really consider what he was going to do about his costume, but he couldn't do it now. There were so many things that he handled, and the thought of leaving them to Pluey and Jongler... He shuddered. No, that wouldn't do. He'd have to manage without the costume for now, even if that meant interacting directly with Tenna.
He nodded to himself. It was decided. He would do his job while keeping his distance and would fix his costume in his free time, and Tenna would be none the wiser.
Tenna wasn't aware of most of his employees on the best of days, so Battat didn't feel any nerves about approaching him as himself. Nope, not even a little.
Tenna looked down at him curiously as Battat ran up to him. Battat's heart pounded as he cleared his throat.
"Here's the new schedule, sir," he said, offering it up.
Tenna frowned. "Did you write this?" he asked, pointing at the paper, but not talking it.
Battat nodded.
"Mike usually does that..." Tenna said.
Battat froze. Tenna tilted his head, considering him.
"What's your job?" he asked.
"U-uh, backstage di-director," Battat fumbled.
Backstage director? What was that supposed to mean?
Tenna's frown deepened. "A Pippins as a backstage director...?" he asked dubiously.
Battat felt like screaming. He just made that up! How could Tenna even know what that meant?
"M-Mike hired me?" Battat tried.
Tenna snatched the schedule and straightened up.
"Mike did, huh..." he trailed off, skimming over the schedule. His frown vanished and was replaced by a broad smile. "This is really good! Er, what was your name?"
Battat felt a little warm at the praise. God, he was pathetically easy.
"It's Battat, sir," he answered.
"Battat..." Tenna muttered.
A giddy thrill shot through Battat at the sound of Tenna's voice saying his name.
"Well, Battat," Tenna said, "I'm sure I'll see you around!"
Battat nodded so enthusiastically he thought his head might spin off his shoulders. It was only after Tenna walked away that his own words sunk in. He should have just said Mike wrote it! He wanted to scream; he was always making things harder for himself. Now he and to figure out what a backstage director even was (or at least what Tenna thought it was). He sighed and threw his head to look forlornly at the ceiling. The things he did for this man... Oh well. As long as he stuck to his plan in every other way, everything should be fine.
Battat had taken to loitering around the backstage to keep an eye on Pluey and Jongler. He had never left them to handle Tenna alone for so long, and he had to admit he was pretty nervous about the whole thing. On top of needing to remake half his costume, he had to handle the backstage duties he had told Tenna he was responsible for, so it seemed it would be a while longer until he could reclaim his rightful place.
"Mike," Tenna began.
Battat couldn't stop himself from reflexively turning toward him in response. He tried to play it off and only succeeded in doing an awkward twirl. He could just barely see Tenna look at him in confusion out of the corner of his eye. He cringed and covered his face.
"Why don't you ever take your small form anymore?" Tenna asked.
"It, uh. I didn't like it no more, so it's gone. Not comin' back," Jongler mumbled.
Battat groaned internally. Tenna drooped a bit.
"Oh..." he mumbled. "That one was my favorite."
Battat's cheeks flushed.
"Are you okay?" Tenna asked.
Battat jolted to attention. "Huh?"
"You look a little green," Tenna observed. "Are you sick?"
Battat slapped his hands to his cheeks in mortification, feeling the hot blush rolling off them.
"N-no, I'm f-fine," he stuttered.
Tenna hummed. "If you say so. But if you do throw up, try not to do it on the carpet, okay?" he said, smiling threateningly. "I'd hate to have someone replace it."
"Of course, sir," Battat muttered.
He rolled his eyes the moment Tenna turned his back. It was hard to take an implied threat seriously from a guy who couldn't stand to fire anybody, even people he despised like that concessions guy.
"Jongler," he hissed.
Jongler slowed their hopping and let Tenna walk ahead alone. They looked back at Battat.
"Why would you tell him that?!" Battat squeaked.
"Tell 'im what, Boss?" Jongler asked.
"That I'm not coming back!" Battat yelled, flapping his arms in frustration.
"But you's ain't, right?" Jongler said. "You's helpin' Tenna backstage now."
Battat stared at them.
"Boss?" Jongler prompted.
How had Jongler of all people thought of that before him?! He groaned and sat down against the wall, burying his head in his hands.
"Boss?" Jongler asked, reaching out to him.
"Just go," Battat mumbled. "I'll figure something out."
Jongler didn't say anything for a minute, but just when Battat was able to check if they were still there, they said pointedly, "If you's didn't insult Pluey, dis wouldn't be happ'nin'."
They were right, but...
"Your costume blows too," Battat murmured.
Jongler sighed. "I gots ta go, Boss."
Then Battat was alone, stewing in his thoughts. He really had to figure this out before he dug an even deeper hole for himself.
Battat was basically just being Mike backstage, but he didn't even get the privilege of having a good rapport with Tenna. It was frustrating, but good, because he was keeping a nice professional distance. He didn't feel conflicted at all. Thankfully, nearly everyone listened to his direction with few problems, because he wasn't sure what he'd do if he had to fight for both Tenna's affection and everyone else's respect.
"Great work today, Battat!" Tenna praised. "It's almost like having another Mike."
Or maybe he didn't have to fight for Tenna's affection either... Wait, he didn't even want that! Not looking like this anyway.
"Ya think so, Boss?" he asked.
He winced internally. Hopefully, Tenna wouldn't notice his accent slip. The universe seemed to be on Battat's side this time, because Tenna only grinned and gave him a thumbs up.
"Keep it up!" he said.
Battat let out a breath Tenna redirected his attention to Jongler. At least he successfully completed that interaction.
"Mike, could you give me a massage tonight? My antennae are all out of wack," Tenna said.
The anxiety immediately flooded back as Battat frantically tried to signal Jongler to tell him no. Battat couldn't do it while his suit was damaged, but Jongler might accidentally rip out the antennae if they tried, and Pluey couldn't since his suit just had those ridiculous microphone paws. And maybe Battat didn't want either of them to do it, even if they were able.
"Su— No. No can do, Sir. Sorry," Jongler said.
Battat sighed in relief.
"Oh," Tenna pouted.
"Sorry, I just don't like doin' dat," Jongler continued.
Battat shot his most vicious glare at them. What were they doing?
Tenna shrunk a few feet.
"You don't?" he asked pathetically.
Battat wanted to run over and assure him that wasn't true. He loved giving Tenna antenna massages. In fact, it was one of his favorite duties! Whoa, who said that?!
"No," Jongler said, ignoring Battat's glare.
They had to be doing this on purpose.
"I can give you one, sir."
It was only after the words hung in the air that Battat realized he had been the one to say them. That's what he got for getting lost in his fantasies.
Tenna looked at him like he had forgotten he was there, before squatting down to address him.
"Really?" he asked skeptically.
Battat wasn't used to having Tenna's attention directed purely at him like this. It was nerve-wracking.
"Yeah, I've given a few before," he confirmed.
He'd never done one without gloves on, but how different could it be?
Tenna hummed. "Okay, sure. Swing by my room later."
If Battat had time to think about this, he might actually back out, and then Tenna's mood would... Better to get it over with sooner.
"There's nothing on your schedule right now," he suggested.
Tenna stared at him in silence. Battat swallowed nervously.
"You're a real go-getter," Tenna said. "I like that!"
With that, he stood up and headed out the door. Battat watched him for a moment before Tenna snapped his fingers and said,
"Come on then."
"Right! Of course!" Battat said, jogging after him.
When they got to Tenna's room, Tenna immediately sat in his armchair, and Battat went right for the stepladder by Tenna's wardrobe.
"The ladder's by—" Tenna started. "Oh, you already got it."
Battat laughed awkwardly, and settled right behind Tenna.
"You ready?" he asked, resting a hand on Tenna's shoulder.
"Go ahead," Tenna said.
Battat nodded to himself and ran his finger down one of the antennae. Tenna jolted in surprise before forcing himself to relax. Battat lightly grabbed it, calculating the difference in his grip strength without the gloves. He tightened his grip a bit, twisting his wrist as he kneaded the rod with his fingers.
Tenna shook. "O-oh!" he exclaimed. "You're really good at this!"
Battat preened. "I'm glad you think so."
He brought his other hand up and began the process on the other antenna. He worked the kinks carefully, aware of the sensitive dents on one side. Tenna had been serious about his antennae being off; they were unusually stiff and tense.
"Battat," Tenna said, cutting through Battat's focus.
"Yeah?" he asked, testing the flexibility of the joint by the ball.
Tenna shuddered and let out a sweet sigh. "What do you think of working here?" he asked.
Battat blinked. "What makes you ask?"
Tenna shrugged. "You're so... dedicated, but I can't tell if you like me very much, and you're not very ambitious, so I kinda wonder why."
And here Battat thought he was too obvious.
"I like you fine," he said. "If I didn't, would I really be doing this?"
"I guess not, but when you say it like that, there's gotta be another reason," Tenna prodded.
Battat sighed internally. Tenna had no idea how much sway he held over him.
"Maybe I just like my job," he grumbled.
Tenna laughed. "You're a strange little Pippins."
"Yeah, you're the last to figure that out," Battat muttered.
Tenna snorted and sunk further into his chair. "This is heavenly," he groaned.
Battat smiled to himself and twisted the joint at the bottom just the way he knew Tenna loved. Tenna gasped and tensed for a moment before practically melting against Battat.
"You like that?" Battat asked innocently.
Tenna muffled a moan with his hand and nodded shakily. Battat shifted his stance to accommodate for the sudden tightness in his pants. He stroked up and down the rods a couple times, and when he didn't feel anything else wrong, he hopped off the ladder.
"Welp, I think you're done," he said nonchalantly.
"You're so cruel," Tenna whined.
"I don't know what you mean," Battat said, smothering a smirk. "Your free hour's almost up."
Tenna groaned and stood up to leave while Battat busied himself with the ladder. The moment he left, Battat briskly walked to the bathroom, cursing himself. So much for not digging a deeper hole. No one would notice if he were a few minutes late, right?
Tenna had ordered the studio cleared (aside from necessary staff) that night for Lanino and Elnina's anniversary, and Battat had been put in charge of overseeing preparations.
"Normally I'd ask Mike, but he's been out of sorts lately," Tenna had explained a week earlier.
Battat couldn't help but be pleased at the unintentional compliment, and that good mood had carried him through the dinner setup and the makeshift ballroom's construction without complaint.
The dinner had gone off without a hitch, and now the Shadowguys were playing a sweet, slow tune for the happy couple to dance to, while Battat and Tenna stood on the staircase watching. Battat signaled for the other lights to dim and have a couple spotlights track the dancers. He leaned against the railing in satisfaction for a job well done.
"Oh, Battat," Tenna sighed, surprisingly quietly. "Isn't it just so romantic? I wish I could dance with someone like that."
Battat hummed and glanced over at him. Tenna stood enough steps lower than him that he was actually at Battat's eye level for once. Not that Tenna had any eyes to look into.
"You never know; it could happen someday," Battat said.
Tenna slumped down to lean against the banister. "I doubt it," he pouted. "I've never met a single person who's even close to my height."
Battat supposed that made sense. He couldn't shrink unless he was feeling sad, and that wasn't exactly a good mood for a dance. Battat tapped his fingers against the railing, considering. Tenna's attention remained on the couple, a look of wistful longing on his screen. Battat gripped the railing and resigned himself to the words that were about to come out of his mouth. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was addicted to digging in deeper.
"I could dance with you," he said.
Tenna straightened and looked at him in open-mouthed shock. "You would?" he asked.
"Yeah, I could... stand on a table or something. It wouldn't be anything like that," he said, gesturing to Elnina and Lanino's sweeping ballroom dance, "but it'd be something at least."
"Re—" Tenna began, then covered his mouth at the volume.
Instead, he nodded vigorously, and Battat couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm.
"You really want to dance, huh?" he mumbled.
Tenna beamed at him, making his stomach twist and flutter. He hadn't even done anything yet, and Tenna was already looking at him like that. Battat felt somewhat sick, and he couldn't determine whether it was a good kind of sick or not. Wasn't he just making things harder for himself later?
"Save that for when we dance," he hissed.
Tenna didn't seem perturbed by his attitude. Instead, he just smiled and hummed, swaying along to the music. Battat thumped his head against the railing. Well, distance had been a nice thought.
Battat looked at the single, though admittedly long, table that Tenna had dragged into his room.
"Is that enough room?" he asked.
"It's the only table that's tall enough," Tenna explained.
"Oh," Battat said. "That's fine; we don't know if this will even work anyway."
He walked over to grab the ladder when Tenna stopped him.
"Wait a minute," he said. "We have to have the proper atmosphere."
He turned on a couple lamps and shut off the overhead light before striding over to his records and rifling through them. He pulled out one, nodded to himself, and put it on.
Battat blinked and suddenly, Tenna was wearing a deep blue suit embroidered with silver stars, paired with a shimmery bowtie and cummerbund. It reminded Battat of an aurora. He looked even more handsome than usual, but...
"Is this really necessary?" Battat grumbled.
"Don't you want to do this correctly?" Tenna asked.
"What, getting dressed up for no reason is 'correct'?" Battat asked.
"Yes!" Tenna said. "I have one for you too!"
He produced a matching set, though much smaller and with a frilled poncho instead of a jacket. Battat sighed and took it from him. He knew what he was getting into when he signed up for this, he reminded himself.
"Oh, but you'll have to go change..." Tenna frowned.
"Can't you just do it for me?" Battat muttered.
Tenna gasped theatrically. "Oh my, Battat! How forward!"
"Not like that!" Battat yelled, his face flushing in embarrassment. "I meant like your powers!"
Tenna's mouth twisted. "You told me not to use them on you," he huffed.
That was true; he wasn't sure of the extent of Tenna's abilities, and he couldn't risk having Tenna accidentally remove the Mike costume.
Battat sighed. "Just turn around. I don't want to walk across the studio."
"O-oh," Tenna stuttered, his screen lighting up a soft pink.
He stiffly pivoted on one foot, and Battat quickly stripped and pulled on the new outfit, hyper aware of the way Tenna's antennae twitched whenever a piece of clothing hit the ground.
"Okay, I'm done," he said, pulling the poncho over his head and kicking the pile of clothes away.
"What do you think?" Tenna asked.
"You look stunning," Battat deadpanned.
Tenna's screen turned a shade pinker. "I meant you," he said.
Battat flushed. He was beginning to regret everything he had ever done in his life to bring him to this moment.
"It's fine," he mumbled.
Tenna frowned. "If you don't want to, you can go."
"No, I—!" Battat cut himself off and took a deep breath. "I do want to... dance. With you."
Tenna gave him a soft smile. "Then let's get this show on the road!"
He held out a hand to Battat. "Do you want a boost?"
Battat considered it for a moment before nodding. Tenna scooped him up and set him on the table, and Battat yelped in surprise.
"That wasn't a boost; you just did it for me!" he exclaimed.
Tenna snickered. "But you're up there now, so who cares?"
Battat shook his head. "Come on, we're wasting a good record," he said.
Tenna stepped to the edge of the table, and Battat took his hand and was dismayed to realize he couldn't quite reach Tenna's shoulder. He settled for resting his other hand on his chest. Tenna put his hand on Battat's waist, and they began swaying to the music. After a minute or so, Battat broke the bubble of silence.
"Let's try taking a few steps," he said.
Tenna hummed in assent, and the two of them moved along the table, Battat taking larger steps than normal, and Tenna taking smaller ones. Battat couldn't help but laugh.
"What?" Tenna asked, smiling.
Battat shook his head. "We probably look so ridiculous right now," he giggled.
Tenna snorted and led Battat into a twirl. "No one's watching," he commented. "Are you having fun?"
Battat hummed, considering. "Maybe if you dip me next time," he joked.
They continued shuffling along the table, and they reached the other end, Tenna twirled him again, following it up with a dip. Battat squeaked and grabbed Tenna's arm in a death grip.
"S-sir!" he gasped.
"You told me to," Tenna teased.
"I guess I did," Battat conceded, unable to stop his smile.
Tenna helped him up, and led them down to the other end at a brisk pace, the clacking of Battat's heels on the table and the thumping of his heart nearly drowning out the music. This time, Tenna lifted Battat, holding him close to his chest as he spun around then set him back on the table.
"That's not how you do it," Battat complained, his heart pounding thunderously.
"What, like this?" Tenna asked.
He adjusted his hold to carry Battat in the crook of his arm, spinning around in a circle, ignoring Battat's squawk of surprise. Battat grabbed his lapel and gaped up at his screen.
"I thought you said you wanted to do this correctly," he protested.
"We only have one table, so we might as well have fun with it, right?" Tenna said.
Battat blinked up at him. "If you're sure," he said.
Tenna set him down, and the two of them continued dancing back and forth. Dancing atop a table with someone ridiculously taller than him, at a speed unfitting of such a slow record, wearing their fancy outfits in an abandoned studio prompted the giggles to burst out him again. He tried to stifle them but nearly lost his balance when he lifted his hand off Tenna's chest, causing Tenna to join in.
"Are you good?" Tenna asked when Battat put his hand back in place.
He nodded deliriously, so they continued their dance, spinning and twirling and giggling all the while. Maybe messing up his plan wasn't such a bad thing when he got to share moments like this with Tenna.
Battat opened the door to the balcony and slipped through, shutting it behind him. As expected, Tenna stood by the railing, looking out at the city lights in the distance.
"What are you doing out here, sir?" Battat asked.
"Battat, you know you can call me Tenna," Tenna said, not even turning to look at him.
"It's a bit chilly out here," Battat said, rubbing his arms for warmth, "and the show can't start without you. So you better have a good reason."
Tenna finally turned toward him, giving Battat a good view of the half-burnt cigarette in his hand. He blew out the smoke and tapped the ashes off over the edge of the balcony.
"I'm just... thinking, I guess," he sighed.
"About what?" Battat asked.
Tenna grabbed the balcony railing and looked up at the sky. After a moment, he looked back at Battat.
"It's personal," he finally said.
"Okay, damn. Forget I asked," Battat grumbled.
Tenna huffed a laugh. "Alright," he said. "How about this? What would you do if... someone left you without explanation, but then they showed up again acting like nothing changed, when they're obviously different from before?"
Battat's heart nearly stopped. Had that salesman come back? No, that was impossible. He was aware of everyone who came and went in the studio, and he knew for a fact that no one but the staff had been here. But not even Tenna was always in the studio, so what if he caught Tenna when he left for home?
Tenna took another drag and sighed, slumping over the railing.
"No, maybe that's not a good way to describe it. I kinda feel like I did something wrong somehow," he mumbled.
Battat pursed his lips. Those statements didn't seem to connect, but he didn't really know what went down between the two of them, if that's what this was about. He tapped Tenna's leg.
"Give me a boost?" he asked.
Tenna picked him up with one hand and deposited him on the railing, allowing Battat to use his arm for balance while he sat down and swung his legs next to Tenna's. Satisfied with this new position, he searched for something to say.
"Look, Tenna," he started, "I don't know what you're talking about, but are you sure he's really worth this angsting?"
Tenna chuckled. "I never said 'he', but... I think he might be. Worth it, I mean."
Battat's heart sank. "Well, if you think so, I don't know if I can stop you. But personally, I'd be pretty pissed and probably wouldn't bother with him."
Tenna grinned at him. "What a surprise," he laughed.
"If you're done brooding, can we go back in?" Battat asked.
It was much warmer from his spot by Tenna's chest, but it was still much colder than he preferred.
Tenna took another drag from his cigarette.
"I'm not done with this yet," he said apologetically.
Battat reached over and plucked the cigarette from Tenna's hand. He considered it for a moment before bringing it up to his lips and taking a drag from it. As he breathed out the smoke, he heard Tenna let out a shaky breath. He put out the cigarette on the balcony railing and turned to face Tenna.
"There," he said. "It's finished. Now come back inside."
"O-okay," Tenna said, obediently striding over to the door and heading back inside.
As the door clicked shut again, Battat suddenly registered what he did. A blush sprang to his cheeks, and he knocked the base of his palm against his temple. Stupid! How could he be so brazen? But Tenna hadn't stopped him or said anything about it...
Battat slapped his cheeks. No, this couldn't continue. He had to actually finish his costume and get everything back to normal before he did something stupid. Tenna didn't actually like him; he was just lonely and confused, and Battat was the only one currently going out of his way to remedy that.
Yes, he would fix his costume, Tenna would forget about Battat and do whatever he was considering with his salesman, and Battat could return to the anonymity of Mike. He had only good feelings about this.
Finally, after zero sleep and several hours of sewing, the costume was finally done. Realistically, he could have done it weeks ago, but he was too caught up getting himself into situations for him to actually sit down and finish it. But now, after rejecting Tenna's invitation to dinner and passing his responsibilities off to Jongler, he could finally be Mike again.
The door opened, and Pluey came in, frowning and tapping his fingers together. He made a string of low notes.
"Yeah," Battat sighed. "I'm sorry too, for insulting your costume. You did a good job on it."
Pluey perked up and let out some high notes.
"I still think you're wrong; I'm not changing my mind on that," Battat said. "But I suppose... I can't say no to a hug."
Pluey ran over and scooped him up, squishing his face against Battat's. It was surprisingly pleasant. Battat patted Pluey's back for a few seconds.
"Okay, that's enough now," he mumbled.
Pluey gave him one last squeeze and set him back down. He let out a series of notes that made Battat stiffen in surprise.
"Wait, what? They told him what?!" he shrieked.
Pluey opened his mouth, and Battat held up a hand.
"No, don't repeat it. Oh my god. They're definitely getting revenge," he groaned.
He pulled on the costume and dashed out the door. As he turned the corner to the hall with Tenna's office, he nearly steamrolled over Jongler.
"Whoa, Boss," they said, grabbing his arms. "What's da rush?"
"Jongler," he hissed. "Why did you tell him I got tired of him and quit?"
Jongler hung their head. "Sorry, I panicked. Uh. I didn't mean to."
Battat stared. "It wasn't on purpose?" he asked.
"No?" Jongler tilted their head. "You's okay, Boss?"
Battat gaped uselessly. "Y-you're not... mad at me or anything?"
"No," Jongler said.
"But... But I insulted your costume," Battat muttered.
Jongler shrugged. "I don't care 'bout dat."
"A-and I made you do my job," Battat added.
"You's was strugglin'. It happens," Jongler said.
"Oh..." Battat mumbled. "You're a good friend, Jongler."
"Aw, thanks, Boss," Jongler said, blushing. "But you's might wanna check on 'im."
"Oh right," Battat said, looking around Jongler at Tenna's door. "Is it bad?"
"He's drinkin'," Jongler sighed.
"Shit..." Battat muttered. "Okay, I can fix this. Don't worry about it."
He let go of Jongle and headed for the door.
"You's got this," Jongler said encouragingly.
Battat nodded to himself and knocked on the door out of habit before pushing it open. The office was about as neat as it normally was, but Tenna was slumped over his desk, a nearly empty bottle in his hand and a tipped over glass dangling over the edge. Battat reached up and grabbed the glass before it could fall, setting it down on the ground. He pulled a footstool over to the desk and poked his head over the top of the desk.
"Oh, Mike... I though' yuh were done with tha' one," Tenna slurred, gesturing to Battat's costume. "Or didja jus' say that ta tormen' me?"
"I changed my mind," Battat said, snatching the bottle out of Tenna's hand.
"Hah," Tenna scoffed, screen flickering with static.
His hand twitched like he hadn't registered the bottle was gone.
"You should get up," Battat advised. "You'll regret sleeping on your desk later."
"Don' wanna," Tenna grumbled.
"C'mon, I'll even help ya," Battat said.
"No... Jus' leave me t' die," Tenna moaned.
Battat rolled his eyes. "What's the matter, Boss?" he asked.
Tenna sighed dramatically. "I miss Battat," he whined.
Battat was torn between jumping for joy and strangling Tenna. This guy...
"You do?" he asked despite himself.
"I don' un'ers— Don' get it," Tenna mumbled, ignoring Battat.
Battat sighed and scrambled onto the desk, pushing Tenna's shoulders to get him upright.
"Did I do somethin'?" Tenna asked. "Why'ja do it? Back 'n forf 'n fer what?"
Battat had no idea what he could possibly be talking about. He snapped his fingers in front of Tenna's screen.
"Tenna, get with the program," he said. "Can ya get to your room, or just the couch?"
Tenna's antennae twitched and his screen flickered. Battat sighed and was just about to determine the distance to the couch when reality shifted around them, and he was suddenly falling backward onto Tenna's bed.
"Owww," Tenna moaned, clutching his head.
Battat put a hand on his chest to soothe his pounding heart. That move had definitely shaved a few years off his life, and now he was going to have to walk back to the studio too. But at least they'd arrived safely, and Tenna was mostly fine.
"Okay," he said. "This works. This is fine."
Tenna collapsed back against the mattress and pressed the pillow around his screen.
"Are ya good?" Battat asked.
Tenna mumbled incoherently. Battat sighed and hopped off the bed.
"I'll check on ya tomorrow," he said, patting Tenna's leg.
"Don' leave me," Tenna murmured.
Battat's stomach twisted.
"Tenna..." he whispered.
"Please. Stay," Tenna begged, reaching out for him.
Battat took a deep breath. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Boss," he said firmly.
Tenna whimpered and rolled away from him, facing the wall.
"G'night," Battat said, opening the door to the room.
Tenna put a pillow over his head and curled up into a ball, shrinking minutely. Battat sighed. Tenna probably wouldn't remember in the morning, but that didn't make him feel any better now. Still, he slipped out the door before his resolve could crumble.
Tenna didn't bring it up when Battat checked on him, so Battat didn't let himself dwell on it. Tenna was a little subdued but otherwise normal for the following week, and as far as Battat knew, he didn't mention Battat to Mike again.
During Tenna's lunch hour, Battat was preparing Tenna's coffee while Tenna stared absentmindedly at the wall. He felt out of practice working around the bulky gloves after a couple months of not having them. He put the finishing touches on and nodded in satisfaction at his work. It wasn't the prettiest blended latte he'd ever made, but it would do.
"Battat, could you—" Tenna's voice abruptly cut off.
Battat froze, the words sinking in. He slowly turned to stare at Tenna, who was completely tense, hand covering his mouth in horror.
"B-Battat?" Battat asked.
Maybe it was a slip of the tongue?
"I-I'm sorry," Tenna said. "You just seemed to enjoy it so much."
"What?" Battat asked stupidly.
"Pretending to be him, I mean," Tenna added.
"Huh?" Battat blinked in bafflement.
"Y-you're not mad, are you?" Tenna asked. "You're not gonna leave, right? F-forget I said anything. I don't know anything!"
Or not.
"What?!" Battat shrieked. "You knew? This entire time? What was I even doing any of that for then?!"
He took off the costume head and threw it against the ground as hard as he could. It bounced a couple times, then rolled to a stop, the smile facing Battat. Tenna took a hiccupy little breath.
"Not the entire time," he whispered.
Battat had just taken it for granted that Tenna would never figure him out. This was never supposed to happen. He stared at hm, feeling completely floored. He wasn't even sure how to begin processing this.
"So when then?" he asked, pressing a hand to his forehead.
The gloves suddenly felt weird and overstimulating, so he pulled his hand away a moment later to rip them off.
"Umm... Only after you stopped being Mike," Tenna mumbled, screen flickering with static. "Why... Why did you do that anyway? You kept doing your job but not as... soft and friendly. Did I do something?"
Battat couldn't think. He sank to the floor and buried his head in his knees.
"No," he mumbled. "It was Pluey's fault."
"P... Pluey?" Tenna asked, crouching down beside him.
"The cat one," Battat sighed. "He's a—"
"A Shadowgu, yeah," Tenna interrupted.
Battat looked up at him in surprise.
"The other two were obviously a Zapper and a Shadowguy, but I wasn't sure about you, cause you don't act anything like a normal Pippins," Tenna said.
It was beginning to sink in that Battat had severely underestimated Tenna.
"Wh... What gave me away?" he asked stupidly.
"Lots of things," Tenna laughed. "But the first was that you didn't change your handwriting. I wasn't sure right away though."
All the times that Battat slipped up suddenly came flooding back to his mind, and he groaned. Tenna had even slipped up a couple times, pretty obviously too, and Battat had just breezed right past them without noticing. He had never talked to Tenna about his powers out of costume before.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked tiredly.
Tenna bit his lip and looked away. "You were so dedicated!" he said. "I thought if I told you I knew that none of you would want to hang out anymore..."
He was probably right about that, at least at the start. But it seemed now that Battat couldn't bring himself to leave Tenna alone.
The fact that Tenna knew and had known for a while, though... It made his stomach twist and set his nerves on edge. He couldn't help but wonder what Tenna had thought of his act. What did Tenna think about the fact that Battat couldn't help but fall over himself to please him even when he was out of costume? He probably looked so pathetic. He felt sick.
"I can't do this right now," he muttered into his hands.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Tenna asked, hovering over him worriedly.
Battat squinted up at him.
"Are you okay? You're taking this way differently than I imagined," he countered.
"I'm all fine and dandy," Tenna said. "I already got used to it, so... I think if you're good, I am too."
Battat huffed. "I really just need to think. But a drink would be nice too."
"I know someone who makes the most amazing coffee," Tenna said cheekily. "Would that work?"
Battat laughed despite himself. "Yeah, that's fine, but you should probably be going back on stage soon."
Tenna reached over and grabbed the neglected mug, passing it to Battat. He took a sip; he preferred a piping hot cup of black dark roast, but this sugary concoction wasn't so bad. A thought occurred to him, and he looked up at Tenna, who had stood to collect his suit jacket.
"What were you going to ask me to do?" he asked.
"Hm?" Tenna looked down at him.
"Before all... that, you started to ask a question," Battat clarified. "What was it?"
"Oh," Tenna said, "I was just gonna ask for red sprinkles on top."
Battat laughed incredulously. It seemed oddly fitting that the end of this ridiculous charade between the two of them would be facilitated by such a childish request. Tenna smiled fondly at him.
"I should get going, but you can sit here and relax as long as you like," he said.
Battat nodded. "I'll see you later. Break a leg."
Tenna grinned and saluted before rushing out the door.
Battat sighed and took another sip of the coffee. Yeah, there was nothing wrong with a little sugar now and then.
Battat wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the idea that Tenna already knew the truth. What was he even supposed to do now? He had been playing it up as Mike for so long that he'd started to like it, and apparently he couldn't stop himself from doing it, even when he was trying to stay professional. All he could really do was just continue what he'd been doing.
Tenna had to know how desperate he was to make him happy. It was humiliating, but the tender way Tenna looked at him and handled him and thanked him and just him, not Mike... Battat groaned in annoyance. Everything would be so much easier if he could just quit and say, "I was only doing this to cover for Mike's absence." But now, Tenna knew. And Tenna liked him.
"Battat," Tenna said.
He jumped to attention. "Huh? What?"
"You've just been standing there, staring at me," Tenna said. "Is there something on my screen?" He worriedly put a hand to his face, screen turning black. "Oh god, it's not burn-in, is it? Did I go on stage like that?!"
"There's nothing on your face," Battat assured. "Sorry, I was just zoning out."
He blinked down at the mug he was holding. Oh right, that was what he had been doing.
Tenna had been exhausted after a particularly rowdy show, and Battat had made him some coffee. He fumbled with the ladder, pulling it closer to Tenna's armchair. As he did, he inspected Tenna for any injuries. He didn't spot anything at a glance, and just when he was about to look away and focus on climbing the ladder, he noticed something else. The way Tenna was reclined and his position a couple steps up the ladder allowed him to catch a glimpse under his collar. He missed the next step and tripped into the ladder, the coffee spilling all over Tenna's shirt and jacket.
Tenna yelped in surprise.
"Shit, sorry, let me get that for you," Battat mumbled, hopping down the ladder to grab some napkins.
This was humiliating. He hadn't made such a novice mistake in years.
"It's fine; it's just a bit gross," Tenna said, expression twisting in disgust as he pulled the shirt away from his chest.
Battat clambered back up the ladder and onto the chair, standing on either side of one of Tenna's thighs as he patted at the spill. Thankfully, it was just a regular cup this time, but the clothes would need to be washed quickly to prevent staining.
"I am sorry about this," Battat sighed, pressing his hand against Tenna's chest to soak up as much as he could.
"Don't sweat it," Tenna dismissed. "But um. It soaked through my shirt, and it's getting uncomfortable."
"Oh right," Battat muttered. "Let me just..."
He ran his hands over Tenna's shoulders reverently before moving to his tie. He deftly undid the knot and left it loose around Tenna's neck, taking the opportunity to slide his fingers under Tenna's collar and caress his neck through the fabric. Tenna shuddered but did nothing to stop him. He pulled away and undid the buttons of the suit coat, pushing it off Tenna's shoulders and letting it fall around his elbows. He half-expected Tenna to slip it off, but he seemed more interested in watching Battat. The intensity of Tenna's attention was starting to get to him, and his fingers shook as he fumbled with the buttons of Tenna's shirt. He got about halfway down before he couldn't resist anymore and slipped his hands into Tenna's half-open shirt. He stroked the seams of the panels and gently traced the edges of Tenna's dials. He couldn't believe that Tenna was just letting him do this. Tenna let out a little sigh that made Battat's stomach twist into knots.
He smoothed a fresh napkin over the exposed parts of Tenna's chest. He'd probably need to get a wet wipe to clean it properly, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. He noticed a trail of coffee that went down to Tenna's pants and automatically started undoing his belt. Tenna caught his hand before he could move any further.
"Whoa there," he gasped. "Take a guy to dinner first!"
Battat snapped out of his trance and ripped his hand away. "Right!" he squeaked. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking!"
His face felt so hot, he worried his plastic might melt. Tenna caught his chin and stared intently into his face. Battat swallowed nervously. He dropped the napkins and brought his hands up to clutch Tenna's arm.
"T-Tenna?" he asked.
One of Tenna's fingers stroked his cheek, and he startled, tightening his grip on Tenna's arm.
"Are you... attracted to me, Battat?" Tenna asked.
Battat's breath hitched, his blush got even hotter, and his heart beat so quickly it almost stopped. He forced himself to breath; it wouldn't do him any good to pass out now.
"I-I..." he sputtered.
"Hm?" Tenna asked, using his other hand to grab Battat's waist and pull him closer.
He might as well tell the truth.
"H-how could I not be?" he mumbled. "You're so beautiful..."
Tenna's screen flashed between static and a bright pink blush.
"A-an old thing like me? I don't kn-know about that," he laughed awkwardly, releasing Battat's chin and flexing his fingers against Battat's waist nervously.
Battat almost snickered at the way Tenna's bravado instantly evaporated. It gave him just enough courage to slide his hands along those delicious shoulders again. He hummed in appreciation. Steam escaped from Tenna's vents.
"No, this definitely does it for me," Battat said. "But..."
"B-but?" Tenna prompted.
"What... What do you think of me?" Battat asked, feeling his heart climb up his throat.
Tenna stroked his waist in silence for a moment. Battat but his lip, resisting the urge to tell him to just forget about it.
"I think you're adorable," Tenna breathed.
If Battat were capable of it, he was sure he would be the one with steam rolling off him now.
"Y-you do?" he asked. "It doesn't bother you that I'm a Pippins?"
Tenna huffed. "I said those guys were a bunch of rule-breaking ripoff artists; I never said they weren't cute. And besides," he said, sliding a finger along Battat's flushed cheeks. "Green is a good look for you."
Battat squeaked and hid his face with his hands in mortification.
"It's not just that though," Tenna continued, "I like being around you."
"Even out of costume?" Battat asked.
"You kept doing nice things for me even when you were annoyed," Tenna said. "It was actually really charming."
Battat sighed and looked up at Tenna's pleased smile. He really was obvious after all, huh.
"Yeah, cause I like making you happy," he grumbled. "Even though you're irritating as fuck."
Tenna giggled. "I know. So you like-like me too?"
"Are you twelve?" Battat groaned.
"Do you?" Tenna prodded, lifting him enough that he had to stand on Tenna's thigh.
Battat rolled his eyes. "I love TV, okay? Just kiss me already," he hissed.
Tenna snickered but obliged, slotting their lips together. Battat sighed against his mouth and grabbed Tenna's casing, pulling him closer and adjusting the angle. He shifted his hand down to Tenna's neck and stroked along one of the cables, causing Tenna to shiver.
Tenna's tongue slid along his lips, and he eagerly opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. He tasted like cigarettes, his stupid sugary coffee, and some intangible electric twang. Battat could easily get addicted to this. He breathed as deeply as he could through his nose, not wanting to separate from Tenna for even a second. Tenna's fangs grazed his tongue, and he gasped, shifting his stance. Tenna pulled away, and Battat whined in protest.
"You told me not to use my powers on you, but... can't you make an exception this time?" Tenna asked, stroking Battat's hip. "To take this somewhere more... comfortable?"
Battat nodded hard enough to spin his head around a few times. He was pretty sure he would do anything Tenna asked of him at this point. In fact, he was seconds away from falling to his knees and worshipping him.
By the time he grabbed his head to stop it from spinning, Tenna had already teleported them to his place. Tenna pulled his poncho off and grabbed his tie when Battat stopped him.
"Wait," he panted, "I thought you said you wanted dinner first."
"I changed my mind," Tenna said. "And we eat together all the time anyway."
"Can't argue with that," Battat conceded, undoing the tie himself to prevent Tenna from tearing it off him, as hot as that sounded.
"Wait," he said again.
"What is it this time?" Tenna groaned.
"Your chest is still sticky," Battat said, slipping out of Tenna's grasp to go fetch some wet wipes.
Tenna flopped back against the mattress dramatically. "I forgot about that," he mumbled.
"Last interruption, I promise," Battat said, climbing back onto the bed.
He carefully scrubbed at the coffee splatters while Tenna giggled and trembled.
"Stop moving so much," he scolded.
"It tickles," Tenna whined.
Battat snorted and leaned back. "Okay, all done."
Tenna pulled him onto his chest. "Where were we?" he asked, untucking Battat's shirt from his pants.
In the back of his mind, the thought that Tenna's suit would be permanently stained occurred to him, but that was a problem for future Battat. Now, Battat simply relished in peeling the ruined suit off Tenna.
If this was his reward for tripping all over his plans and digging a deeper hole for himself, he probably wasn't going to learn anything from this. But with the way Tenna gasped and grabbed Battat's hips when he pulled his antenna, he couldn't bring himself to regret anything.