Archive of Our Own ^beta

It didn't take a genius to realize what was happening. Perhaps Tenna wasn't the most perceptive person ever, sure, but even he could figure this one out. Actually, a part of him was terribly embarrassed that the Mikes had been getting away with it for as long as they have. Somehow, Tenna hadn’t questioned it sooner. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Or maybe it was the elation of Mike’s apparent return that made him overlook everything else. Truthfully, Tenna was tired of his spiraling, and he couldn’t imagine the others feeling any different. Of course he hated the mood swings, and lashing out at his employees, and feeling sour or miserable or unreasonably irritable more often than not. Part of him was grateful for the Mikes, in a way.

That’s not to say he wasn’t also terribly suspicious. For what reason would anyone dare go to such lengths? Surely there had to be ulterior motives if they were acting so underhanded.

He put off confronting them right away. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take control of the situation, but he had to admit, it was pleasant having the new Mikes around. The smallest Mike, especially. That one was his favorite. The mystery was just who exactly these three were.

He could tell relatively quickly that one was a Zapper and the other a Shadowguy, as their speech (or lack thereof) and mannerisms weren’t too hard to recognize. The small Mike, however, Tenna couldn’t put his finger on. Sure, the guy was short, but the thought of a Pippins acting the way his sweetest Mike did sounded so far-fetched in his mind, lest they were a greatly dedicated actor and had the worst intentions. That was probably the case.

-

Battat groaned quietly, clutching his head as he absentmindedly made Tenna’s coffee.

The day was already stretching him thin. Battat’s back ached from hauling props, his mind was buzzing with the things Tenna rattled off for Mike to jot down, and he hadn’t slept properly in days with the number of responsibilities he was juggling. He was moving entirely on autopilot, with his mind drifting elsewhere or nowhere at all. It hadn’t even registered to him that he forgot to change into the Mike costume before leaving the room until he was face to face with Tenna. Holding out the coffee that he came to deliver, Battat opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short at the puzzled look his boss was giving him.

He glanced down at himself momentarily. Oh. 

For a moment, neither spoke, the words dying in Battat’s throat as quickly as they came. Tenna’s expression flickered from surprise to suspicion at the mug, and internally, Battat’s jaw dropped in horror. He almost dropped the mug, too. How could he make such a mistake? The drink in his hands trembled as he immediately tried to think of ways to remedy the situation in his foggy mind, but Tenna spoke first.

“And what’s this?”

…The coffee? Oh, Tenna probably noticed that the mug was the specific one Mike used for his drinks. Mike, as in Battat himself. He felt like dying.

Battat stiffened and laughed nervously, thrusting the coffee forward. “This is- this is from Mike,” he said quickly. “He, uh, couldn’t bring it himself. Busy with,” he squinted. “...He said he was busy. Seemed to be in a rush, so I offered to deliver it.” Battat cringed. Okay, not his best, and his voice definitely wavered. Smooth.

Tenna seemed to eye him warily before accepting the mug. It was the one Mike always gave Tenna his coffee in, after all. Battat awkwardly fidgeted with the hem of his poncho as he tried not to shrink under the scrutiny. He didn’t like being observed too closely; he was used to second-takes, knew he was green unlike the other Pippinses, but Tenna being the one to examine him was another thing entirely.

“Busy, hmm? Mike has never been too busy for me.” Tenna blew across the coffee and sniffed at the steam. “Strange… Don’t you think that’s strange?” 

To be fair, Battat couldn’t deny that, but was the pout on Tenna’s face necessary?!

Battat hesitated, his heart swooping slightly at Tenna’s expression as he fumbled for words. “He… really was. Busy. Thought you shouldn’t have to wait.”

Tenna stared. He didn't have eyes, but Battat just knew he was. His throat went dry, and horrifically, he also felt a blush coming on. 

Tenna sipped slowly, his gaze never quite leaving Battat. At last, he hummed pleasantly. “Well. That’s considerate of you...” He prompted, raising a brow.

“Battat,” he bobbed his head quickly. “And, uh, of course. Anything to… help.” He stepped back a bit, legs itching to retreat before Tenna could pry further.

Tenna hummed. “Mm. I’ll have to thank Mike later, then…” He smiled. “And you too, Battat. Thanks!”

Battat bit his tongue, mumbled a halfhearted “No problem,” and took the chance to bow out. He turned on his heel and walked briskly down the hall, resisting the urge to just start sprinting outright.

Once he rounded the corner, out of sight, did his chest collapse in on itself with a shaky exhale. His hands were trembling slightly. In fear or something akin to thrill, he didn’t know, he just knew he couldn’t make that mistake again. He wouldn’t.

He thought about the way Tenna had said his name for the first time ever, and his heart thudded.

Good grief. He needed to sleep. Desperately.

-

Since that day, Tenna found the green Pippins skirting around him more often than not. Or perhaps it was just that Tenna was finally noticing Battat in places he hadn’t before.

He wasn’t very fond of the Pippinses. He’d seen enough of them to know better than to put his faith in one, and most weren’t shy at all about their distaste for him either. And while Tenna wasn’t someone who had the heart to actually fire any of his employees, their reputation was too messy for him to ignore, so he tolerated them at best.

However, Tenna found that Battat exhibited so few of the qualities he’d find in other Pippinses, that he briefly wondered if he had the wrong guy after all. That, or if his Mike was even a Pippins in disguise at all. 

But once he noticed Battat, really noticed him, the threads pulled together almost too easily. Even if his personality was quite different from Mike’s persona, their tics and habits were hard to miss. The way small Mike fiddled with his sleeves in the same awkward way Battat did, the shared tendency to shift their weight from foot to foot, his absence lining up with Battat’s schedule. How both of them would snap their fingers twice when trying to recall something, and Tenna swore he saw Battat cringe after an accent similar to the one small Mike used slipped out at some point in front of him.

The realization cemented itself when Battat got sick. If things weren’t glaringly obvious already, Tenna didn’t see Mike in his small form for a while after Battat had fallen ill and couldn’t come in. When he asked the Mike in the cowboy hat, they had fumbled briefly before saying they ‘didn’t feel like being that one,’ which would’ve been a convincing-enough excuse had Tenna not connected the dots already.

So Tenna came to accept that the little green Pippins he'd been dismissing until just a few weeks ago was, in truth, his favorite Mike. His seemingly sweet, assertive, and wonderfully dependable Mike, who would tuck him in and pat his tears and massage his antennas…

But why would anyone, let alone a Pippins, run himself ragged just for him? Why put himself through such exhaustion to keep someone like Tenna happy? Tenna knew he could be a bit much. If even the people he thought held him dear in the past could leave him behind so easily, what incentive did a random Pippins have to go to such ridiculous lengths for him if not as an elaborate trick?

Was it wishful thinking to consider that Battat truly cared?

Tenna kept going back and forth with himself about it, turning the thought over like a coin. Possible, impossible. Sincere, insincere. One moment it seemed ridiculous to even entertain the thought that Battat had no malicious intent, but in the next, Tenna found himself desperate to believe it.

He told himself it was mere curiosity at first, nothing more. He was simply pushing at the seams of the ruse to confirm what he already knew. Harmless testing. 

So he began remarking on ‘Mike’s’ quirks in front of Battat as if they were passing thoughts, watching the other try to school his expression. His gaze lingered on Battat’s face a little too long, holding it until he fidgeted the way Mike would in discomfort. Occasionally, Tenna would drift closer when there was no real reason to, invading just enough space to see the nervous twitch in Battat’s eye.

And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he began to tease a little.

“You’re turning green,” Tenna remarked one afternoon in faux concern as he leaned in much too close to Battat. Close enough, in fact, that Battat had to retreat a step back against the table behind him, his cheeks flushed a greenish hue that Tenna mistook for fear-induced nausea. “Feeling unwell again? That’s no good!”

Battat shot upright, clearly taken aback. He glanced around momentarily before stammering, “I-I’ve always been green?” to which Tenna almost laughed.

“No, really?” he asked rhetorically, before gently grabbing Battat’s chin and tilting his head to the side, as if to look him over. The green hue darkened significantly. “Well, don’t force yourself to be here! Lest you get sick on your shift… then I’d have to call Mike to clean up your mess, hm?”

He’d be lying if he said watching Battat squirm wasn’t absolutely delightful. Yes, if Battat was trying to trick him, Tenna could entertain it for a while. It’s what he did best.

He did let go of the Pippins though before he might’ve thrown up for real, sending him off with a light flick of the wrist. “Off you go, then! Stay out of trouble.”

Battat muttered something inaudible under his breath as he left, cheeks burning. 

-

Battat was screwed.

He really couldn’t think of anything else for the rest of the day. It was around the hour Tenna wanted to be tucked in at night, and here he was, still thinking about the way his boss had tilted his chin up ten hours ago. He didn’t intend for things to get this far, but he was in too deep now. Even worse, he undoubtedly had feelings for Tenna. Even Jongler and Pluey said it was obvious before he realized it himself.

Goodness, Tenna didn’t know, right? About Mike?? Or his feelings??? The way Tenna had been acting towards him as of late… Did he just do that with everybody now, or was it Battat specifically? His heart was pounding.

He leaned in so close...

Battat put his palms over his eyes and groaned. Whatever, it was fine, everything was fine. His boss hadn’t been acting out of the ordinary when he was Mike, nor was it unlike him to speak highly of Mike in front of others.

…And Battat hated it. Every time Tenna prattled about how thoughtful Mike was, how attentive, how loyal… He hated knowing that Tenna still thought it was Mike doing half of those things when Battat was the one doing the most to keep him happy! He tucked Tenna in, he made Tenna’s coffee, he sorted Tenna’s schedule, soothed his outbursts, helped with planning and unwinding and whatever else Tenna asked of him. Jongler and Pluey played their parts, of course, but the praises Tenna spoke of Mike in front of Battat were always about the things that Battat’s version of Mike had done for him.

He shut his eyes tight, dragging his hands across his face. Stupid. He was stupid. Even if the initial plan was to merely appease Tenna and alleviate his sour mood in Mike’s absence, Battat was so whipped now. Tenna could splash a drink across his face and Battat would pour him another.

With another groan, he tiredly pushed himself upright to go change into Mike. He hadn’t been getting much rest, but that was usual. As he pulled the mask over his head, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, Mike staring back at him with that stupid wide smile.

His stomach twisted a little. He hated it, but he couldn’t stop.

By the time he readjusted the bowtie, his heartbeat was already slowing. Slipping into the disguise was easier than facing Tenna bare. Pretending gave him distance, and distance gave him courage.

Battat shuffled back down the hallway to find Tenna again. 

-

The studio had long since gone quiet. In Tenna’s dressing room, he changed out of his bright suit for loose fabric, the layers of his host persona peeling away. He didn’t have to look up as the familiar click of shoes echoed down the hallway and the door creaked open.

Naturally, Mike was there. The small one.

“Mike,” Tenna smiled wearily as he sat in bed. Mike walked over to sit on the chair next to him.

“Careful with the pillow, Boss. Don’t want ya neck crookin’ all funny, do ya?” Mike teased, leaning over and plumping one with an exaggerated pat. He slid it beneath Tenna’s head as Tenna languidly lied down.

Tenna hummed. It was almost endearing, watching Mike fuss with the blankets. So meticulous for someone who was lying to his face.

“Mmh…” Tenna yawned, curling slightly beneath the covers. “You really do dote on me, don’t you?”

Mike chuckled, pulling the blanket taut around Tenna’s shoulders. “What kinda assistant’d I be if I didn’t? Can’t have ya losin’ sleep over somethin’ silly.”

That made Tenna’s smile curve slow, and he reached up, resting his hand lazily against Mike’s wrist before the other could draw it away. “Ah, so it’s devotion, then. So dedicated.” His voice lowered just enough to add, “You always know how I like it.”

He saw Mike freeze momentarily. Then, he put his other hand over Tenna’s. “‘Course I do. Can’t put on much of a show if you’re half dead. Somebody’s gotta keep ya shining, don't they?”

Tenna’s chest tightened suddenly. “Mm, ‘somebody,’” he mumbled. “...I like this. I could get used to this, Mike. You’ll take responsibility for that, won’t you?”

Mike tensed again, and squeezed his hand gently. “Responsibility’s my specialty, Boss. Ain’t no problem if it’s for you.”

Well, he answered quickly. Tenna huffed quietly, pleased. He burrowed into the blanket and slid his hand away at last. “Hum something for me, Mike,” he murmured as his screen started to dim.

Mike’s posture softened. He obliged, slipping into a low, easy tune that lulled Tenna to sleep faster than he could think of anything else.

-

Tenna found himself looking for excuses lately, for small ways to either catch Battat passing by or hold him a minute longer than he seemed willing to stay. He didn’t know when it happened, when he began to want more of Battat than just his role as Mike, but the thought lingered dangerously now. It curled in the back of his mind whenever he saw the end of a green poncho vanish as quickly as it appeared in his peripheral.

It was strange. Battat’s Mike could flatter him endlessly, and Tenna was content to let the act go on as long as he pretended not to notice the truth. But there was something disarmingly charming about Battat outside of the costume, too. Mike was charismatic and smooth, but Battat was… well, also cute, in his own fumbling way. The way he always tried to slip off the moment Tenna appeared only made him want to corner the Pippins all the more.

Still, Tenna did know how Battat’s face always seemed to sweat and color a darker shade of green whenever he drew near. Was simply being in Tenna’s presence so intolerable that Battat would look that nauseous every time? He did find his uneasiness amusing and cute, but it dampened his mood whenever he wondered if Battat always looked like that beneath the mask as Mike.

It didn’t stop him from wanting, though. Tenna’s gaze snapped up immediately at the slightest sight of green when Battat appeared in the doorway with a clipboard in hand. He assumed Battat was likely on his way to check the props. He quickly waved a hand to catch his attention.

“Ah, Battat!” He brightened, his voice laced with false casualness. “What a timely entrance.”

The other clearly didn’t consider coming through his door, but Tenna ignored that.

Battat startled, clutching the clipboard tighter. He briefly glanced left and right before looking at Tenna. “...For?”

“For rescuing me,” Tenna replied smoothly, sitting up a little straighter. “From the sheer misery of sitting here alone. Sit, sit.” He gestured with a flourish towards the vacant chair next to him, which was smaller than Tenna’s but still seemed a little large for Battat.

Battat blinked, clearly debating escape, then shuffled a small step into the doorway without committing to the chair. “I… was just going to check on the props. Make sure we’re set for tomorrow.”

Tenna tilted his head with a smile. So careful, so dutiful. Battat truly didn’t act like the typical Pippins at all. And he wasn’t turning green, which Tenna took as a good sign.

“Remarkably diligent one, you are.” He replied, softer this time. “You’re a hard worker. I like that!”

“Just… doing my job,” Battat shifted on his feet.

“Right.” Tenna’s smile turned a little sly, considering impersonating Mike wasn’t at all on Battat’s job description. He leaned an elbow on the armrest. “You’ve been working yourself a great deal lately, haven’t you? I notice you lingering behind after most others are gone.”

Battat coughed. “There’s just a lot of work people forget about. Someone’s gotta make sure it gets done.”

“Mm. And that someone is always you.” Tenna twirled an index card between his fingers, catching the way Battat was staring intently at it. “It’s funny how dependable you are. You’re quite unusual. Makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what?” Battat asked a little too quickly. His eyes snapped back to Tenna’s screen.

“Why you take so much onto yourself when you don’t have to.” Tenna set the card down and leaned forward. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not complaining! I rather like having things run smoothly for once. But you make it seem like everything just depends on you being here.”

Battat blinked before giving a weak, dry laugh. “Uh. I just… figured things were easier if I took care of them? It’s no big deal.”

Tenna rested the bottom of his screen on his hand, watching the way Battat avoided his gaze. It was interesting to see how he kept insisting on shouldering more than his share. It tugged at Tenna in a way he didn’t expect.

“I’ll have to keep an eye on you,” Tenna murmured, just on the edge of teasing. “Or else you might work yourself into the tiles, and then where would I be? No stagehand, no green Pippins, no little Battat.” No Mike, he didn’t say. His favorite one, anyways.

Battat flushed faintly, muttering, “...Guess someone else would just have to take my place.”

Tenna chuckled. “I’m not so sure if anyone could.”

Battat flushed a deeper green at that and ducked his head towards the clipboard, causing Tenna’s smile to falter into a frown. There it was again.

“...Did I say something wrong?” Tenna asked, sounding disappointed. 

Battat shot his head up. “Huh?”

“You’re turning green. Why?” Tenna said softly, his shoulders sagging. His antennas also drooped. “You don’t like me saying that?”

Battat’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. “Wait, no no! No, that’s- it’s not because I’m upset. Or, um, sick.” He cringed, flushing darker when he stumbled over his words. “It’s… Pippins, we just, uh… I’m, when we’re… when something’s…” He trailed off, groaning into his free hand.

Tenna shrunk in size upon seeing Battat turn a darker green. He felt guilty for putting him on the spot.

Battat made a strangled noise. “When something’s embarrassing,” he finished finally.

Tenna looked at him. That was it? He wasn’t disgusted? Or about to throw up from fear?

“You were making me feel flustered!”

Tenna stared, then straightened, his antennas perking up again. The silence stretched for a second. “Oh.” He smiled. “Oh! Then I’ll just have to be very careful with my words around you, won’t I?”

Battat groaned louder, slumping against the wall behind him. 

Flustered? That made sense, Tenna thought. The disappointment from moments before faded quickly, replaced with a fuzzy feeling at the thought that maybe his words mattered more than he realized. 

“Wait,” Tenna said before the moment slipped. “Okay, then what’s with you avoiding me?” He knew why, of course, but wanted to hear how Battat would explain himself.

Battat’s hand raised to cover half his face. “P-Pardon? I don't-”

Tenna scoffed, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not that oblivious, you know.”

Battat peered from behind his fingers with such a flat expression that almost made Tenna laugh. Okay, from his perspective, fair. 

“...I just didn’t wanna bother you,” he finally murmured.

Tenna sighed. It was a half-assed excuse. They both knew it, but Battat’s legs were slightly wobbly from where he was leaning against the wall, and his cheeks were so green that Tenna didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned back, drumming his fingers lightly against the armrest.

“If you were bothering me, I’d have sent you away already,” he said with a faint smile, tone somewhere between fond and exasperated. “You’re harder to shake off than you seem to think.”

Battat fidgeted uncomfortably with the hem of his poncho. “Right.” Battat was cute when he did that. Battat was just cute, actually.

“Anyway,” Tenna said at last, dismissing the sudden pause with a flick of his wrist. “That’s enough for tonight. I’ll check the props, so go rest up. I’ve kept you long enough.”

“You could never keep me long enough,” Battat blurted.

Oh?

The Pippins stiffened upon the realization of what he’d just said. He then nodded, waved, and muttered a short goodbye as he spun towards the door and left hastily.

Tenna just stared at where Battat had been standing moments prior. His screen was warm, and he was smiling dumbly.

So Battat could be bold as himself, after all.

-

Battat looked over the checklist twice more, slightly out of breath from running back and forth as Mike all afternoon. It was hot under the costume, and the bowtie felt tight against his throat today, but he couldn’t step out yet.

Everything looked good to go, all Battat needed to do now was catch Tenna one last time before they went on air. Tenna didn’t always need reassurance, but it never hurt to let him know everything was running smoothly and that he was going to do great. Okay, or maybe Battat just wanted to talk to Tenna. Sue him.

He turned the corner while fixing Mike's stupid bowtie and-

His body crashed right into Tenna’s, the two startling as the impact jolted the mug in Tenna’s hand. The liquid sloshed and splattered all over Battat and his costume.

Battat hissed. It wasn’t terribly hot, thankfully, but he was stunned nonetheless.

"Battat!" Tenna yelped, his antennas going crooked. He immediately bent down, fussing uselessly as though he could wipe away the damage before it set in. "Goodness, are you alright?! Does it burn?”

The hand on Mike's cheek quickly slapped over Tenna's own mouth in realization.

Battat twitched under the costume.

What.

For a second, neither said anything.

Then,

“You knew?!”

Battat’s voice cracked through the mask, raw and panicked. His heart was snapping against his ribs. What the hell? Tenna knew?! Since when! Was he that obvious? Did he know about the others? Did Jongler and Pluey know?

“Of- of course I knew!” Tenna snapped, still dirtying his gloves by fretting uselessly at Battat’s drenched front. “Did you think I was that oblivious?!”

Yes?!?!?!???????

Every nerve in Battat’s body was on fire, his throat felt tighter against the bowtie than ever, and the ruined clothes were the least of his concerns. “I- well, I-”

His voice cracked again and he took a helpless step back, hands half raised and coffee still dripping from him.

Tenna faltered, quickly reaching out to grab him. Battat jolted, and Tenna cringed, loosening his hold.

“Ive known for a-”

“Why didn’t you say anything????" Battat exclaimed, gesturing wildly. 

Before either of them could say anything more, "Mr. Tenna, you’re on in five!” called a voice from the receiver. Both of them groaned.

Battat pulled the shirt of the Mike costume away from his skin to try and alleviate the discomfort before realizing that Tenna’s gloves were stained brown.

“Your gloves- damn it,” he muttered, a little dazed. “You can’t go on with these, they’ll look awful on camera.”

“Battat-”

“Wait here!” he insisted, dashing off down the hall before Tenna could say another word. Within moments, he returned breathless, fumbling with a towel and a clean pair of gloves from somewhere in the costume department.

“Here. Put these on. Quick.” Battat pulled Tenna’s gloves off and shoved the new pair into his hands, not meeting his gaze. He’d taken the mask off to breathe better, and he was sure his entire face was lit green.

Tenna exhaled a soft, bewildered laugh, sliding the gloves on while Battat straightened the cuffs. 

“We’ll… talk about this later,” Tenna said finally. His voice sounded almost pleading. Wasn’t Battat the one who was supposed to sound like that in this situation?

He nodded nonetheless, his voice catching in his throat as Tenna hastily left for the stage.

-

The show went perfectly fine, actually.

Tenna hit every cue and his smile shined radiantly under the stage lights, though Battat was able to pick up on the subtle telltale signs that something was on his mind. Despite the hint of restlessness in his motions and the quiver in his laugh, Tenna kept his composure surprisingly well for that duration.

Battat had briefed Pluey and Jongler on what happened while changing out of the soaked costume. The two helped him clean up without question, giving him quiet reassurance and a few encouraging pats on the back before nudging him back on the set as the finale wrapped. Even so, his stomach was churning. 

When the lights finally dimmed and the applause faded, Tenna immediately pulled away to make a beeline backstage where he knew Battat would be. Battat nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot as he saw his boss approaching.

“...So,” Tenna began lightly, giving him a smile. It was only slightly strained. “How did I do?” 

Battat deadpanned.

Tenna’s antennas crooked sideways. “Okay, okay… about earlier…”

Battat was surprised that Tenna didn’t actually look angry at all. If anything, he just sounded uncertain, almost shy. It was throwing him off. For all his fears that Tenna would be furious, disappointed or hurt, maybe fire him outright… he was not at all acting the way Battat thought he would. But he supposed Tenna took the time to sort those feelings out already, given that he found out a while ago.

About that. Genuinely, how long had Tenna known?

Before he could apologize, there was a cluster of crew members passing by, laughing and talking as they hauled equipment off the stage. Many glanced quizzically at the two of them.

Tenna’s antennas twitched in mild irritation at the lack of privacy. “Ah,” he sighed, lowering his voice. “Come. Let’s not do this here.”

Battat blinked. “Oh, uh, right.”

Tenna gestured for him to follow and led him away, the dull hum of stage chatter fading behind them. They ended up in one of the smaller storage rooms, usually reserved for old props, costumes, and half-empty paint cans. The light overhead buzzed faintly and cast the space in a warm, uneven glow.

When the door shut behind them, the silence settled heavy between them. Battat leaned back against a desk littered with old cue cards, watching Tenna hunch over just slightly to accommodate his height.

“Alright,” Tenna started finally just as Battat blurted, “I’m sorry.”

They both faltered, but Tenna gestured lightly, letting him talk.

“I… didn’t really plan for it to go this far,” Battat muttered. “At first, it was just- well, you were in a bad mood, and when Mike wasn’t around, you were kind of an asshole to everyone.” He winced, gesturing vaguely with one hand. 

Tenna’s brows knit together, but the guilty way he dipped his head told Battat he understood, or maybe even agreed.

“I thought if I filled in, maybe it’d help. And then it just… kept going. I became curious as to who Mike even was, and... well..."

Tenna’s expression turned skeptical. “And the other two?”

Battat cringed. Of course he knew. “It was my idea,” he clarified quickly. “They’re a Zapper and a Shadowguy, I dragged them into it because I needed help. They didn’t mean any harm either. Really, I… I just didn’t know how to tell you, after some point.”

Tenna mulled it over. “...How many others know you’re Mike? Was this like an inside joke where you’ve been making fun of me behind my back?”

Battat shook his head rapidly. “No! No one else knows. It's just me and the other two Mikes. I promise it’s not like that at all.”

Tenna held his gaze for a few seconds longer, antennas angled low in thought. Battat stood firm, staring back.

Finally, he sighed, the tension pulling from his shoulders. It was Tenna who seemed guilty now, as he folded his hands behind his back and lowered his head.

“...Oh, Battat. I was hoping that was the case.”

Tenna rubbed the side of his screen a little. “If it was true, if you really didn’t mean anything malicious… then maybe I could admit the truth.” His voice softened. “It was nice having ‘Mike’ around. It was nice having anyone around, actually. I liked the thought of someone making such an effort for me, tending to me, being with me.”

He trailed off, almost sheepish. “Though, I assumed you had the worst intentions at first. I thought, well… the three of you must have been making an elaborate joke at my expense.”

Battat shifted uncomfortably. Well, who wouldn’t have thought that way, if they were in his position?

“Which is why I may have… gone out of my way. To, er. Make you uncomfortable.”

What? Battat’s eyes widened, disbelief written clearly across his face. “So you were doing that on purpose!”

Tenna’s hand lifted to cover his mouth, but not before Battat caught the sly curve of his lips. “I liked seeing you that way,” he shrugged.

Heat shot straight to Battat’s face. He doubled down on his glare, though it lacked any real bite. “...You liked it?”

Tenna was still smirking, even as his voice softened into something almost affectionate. “It was cute!” he defended himself. “Like… when you would sweat and fidget… and look so frightened…”

HUH??????

Battat’s made a strangled noise and dragged a hand over his face as if it would hide the color rising in him. Tenna’s admission was making him feel things. What the hell was he supposed to even say to that?!

“...Youre unbelievable,” he muttered, the words muffled. “How long have you known?!”

Tenna drummed his fingers. “Longer than I should probably admit. Well, you had me fooled for a good month, though.”

A month. Battat’s hand dropped just enough to show his incredulous stare. “You’re serious?”

Tenna snickered. “I didn’t find out you were the one playing the small Mike until later, if that’s what you’re asking. I only caught onto that after the time you accidentally brought in the coffee. Did you just forget to change?”

“Oh. Agh, damn…” Battat nodded with a groan. “Yeah…”

“And then your mannerisms and absences were lining up, and, well! I figured I’d have a bit of fun with it.” He sheepishly smiled. “I’m sorry too. You were just too cute, all that fidgeting or freezing up like you wanted to start running… Ahahaha…”

His tone shouldn’t have sounded that pleased, but it did. The amusement in Tenna’s voice carried something that was deliberate enough to twist low in Battat’s stomach.

“You should’ve seen yourself,” Tenna murmured, voice dipping almost unconsciously. “Every time I leaned a little closer, you’d freeze, breath caught and hands shaking… I haven’t had so much fun in a while.” 

There was nothing mocking in Tenna’s tone. It was indulgent and far too focused for comfort. Battat swallowed thickly.

“I’m, I’m glad???” he flustered. His rapid pulse didn’t quite belong to embarrassment anymore.

Tenna seemed to finally notice, as he stiffened and readjusted his tie. “...Hah! Well, anyways!” He clasped his hands. “This storage room is a bit stuffy. Let’s get going! Haha!”

Tenna didn’t wait for an answer, opening the door and taking Battat outside by the hand. By the hand? Oh, wow, Tenna was holding his hand.

He briefly thought about how dubious they must've seemed from an outsider's perspective, leaving a storage room looking as flustered as they did.

Tenna cleared his throat, his voice interjecting Battat’s thoughts. “So,” he asked casually, “can I meet the other two Mikes? They’re your friends, I assume?”

“Oh? Yeah,” Battat said, dazed by the sudden shift in tone. “Yeah, I can introduce them to you. Um, they’re Pluey and Jongler. They should be in, uh…”

In the Mike room. Where his messy theory board was. Right.

“...I can bring them instead,” he amended quickly, managing a smile. He made a mental note to deal with the board later. Maybe it was time to give up on that thing. He could probably just ask Tenna about Mike now, if he really wanted to, right?

…Or maybe they could finally both move on from it. That seemed better.

Tenna nodded and returned his smile. “Oh, and, Battat.” He seemed sheepish. “You still smell like coffee. I’m sorry about that earlier, are you sure you’re okay? I was worried I might’ve burned you.”

Battat winced at the reminder. He’d been so distracted by everything that had happened earlier that he’d completely forgotten about it. “I’m okay,” he insisted quickly, embarrassed. “The costume absorbed enough of it, and it wasn’t very hot.”

"Ah..." Tenna hummed. "That’s a relief. But do tell me if you’re hurting anywhere, alright?” he said softly, reaching out to pet the top of Battat’s head. Battat weakly nodded, feeling warm. He doubted he would need to, but, if the implication was that Tenna was going to dote on him…

He stored that away in his mind.

As they walked down the hall side by side, Battat felt lighter. Everything that had been knotted up for months was finally starting to come undone.

Maybe things would be different now, but for once, that didn’t seem so bad.