Chapter Text
“Hey!”
Jimmy’s ears perked up at the sound of a by-now-familiar voice. His eyes pulled to the far end of the bridge he’d just come from, with the pillager outpost standing on the horizon. Jimmy squinted slightly against the sunlight and caught sight of a bright flash of red and yellow, Tango’s silhouette waving to him from the edge of the ravine. He grinned and turned to wave back, and he nearly slipped on the loose soil atop the one-block-wide bridge he was balancing on, his arms flailing out awkwardly for balance in place of his datapack-hidden wings.
There was always a small learning curve when he joined the Life servers again. It was really the only place he kept his wings tucked away unless he happened to be messing around with origins elsewhere, so it always took a little while for him to remember how to ride the proverbial bike again. Only a little while. They’d been in the game for over two weeks by now, and it got easier every day.
That didn’t make Jimmy any less clumsy though.
“Whoa, whoa–” Tango was at his side in a few rushed strides, a warm hand finding Jimmy’s upper arm to help keep him steady. “Don’t go fallin’ on me, buddy.”
Buddy.
That was something Jimmy had learned fairly quickly in this game. Tango loved to call Jimmy his buddy, his bud, his partner, his - whatever. Nicknames. Tango liked nicknames. They were always friendly and always affectionate and always so warm…and though Jimmy would never admit it, he absolutely loved them. (He was still trying to ignore the little warm flutter in his chest every time Tango turned to him with another nickname on his tongue, with that toothy grin of his and warmth in his voice. Tango was just being friendly. Obviously.)
“Thanks,” Jimmy smiled lopsidedly, finding his footing on the bridge again. “It’s a bit dangerous up here, eh?”
“A bit,” Tango agreed. He cast a glance down to the river below and grimaced. “I saw you up here from Scott’s place actually,” he commented. “I thought I was gonna have to come save you from Scar and Joel.”
Jimmy blinked.
“Save me?” he asked, his head cocking to the side in amusement. “What for?”
“It looked like they had you cornered!” Tango told him. “All trapificated between a couple o’ menaces on a teeny-tiny bridge above a ravine! If they were tryin’ to pull one over on you this early in the game, I was ready to start comin’ at ‘em with some payback action.”
Jimmy felt his face warm and he laughed, reaching for his inventory.
“No, no! I was just tryin’ to get a horn!” he said, letting the copper spyglass Scar had given him drop into his hand. “Look - I got this instead. Scar was looking for bamboo, an’ he gave me this even though I said I didn’t have any. No horn though.”
Tango chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.
“Well hey, a spyglass is useful!” he said brightly, and from what Jimmy could tell his enthusiasm was genuine.
(That was another thing, that Tango was always so eager and enthusiastic about any small success Jimmy achieved. It didn’t feel like false compliments either, it felt genuine. Like when Jimmy had brought home cows and Tango had been over the moon, and he could feel the absolute unbridled elation coming from Tango through the bond. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.)
“We could do some sneakificating,” Tango told him with a low, conspiratorial voice, waggling his eyebrows playfully. “Get in on some good ol’ spying business, keep an eye on the neighbors.”
Jimmy giggled at the idea.
“What, like - peeking over the hedges?” he asked. “Keepin’ up on gossip? Trading rumors with Impulse an’ Bdubs or something?”
Tango nodded seriously.
“Mhmmm. I bet they know all sorts of dirty secrets.”
“Dirty - what?!” Jimmy made a face, going a little red at the phrasing but grinning all the while. “Nooo, mate, not like that! I don’t wanna know what people do out of session, eurgh–”
“What?” Tango’s lips quirked at the corner, turning cheeky and smirking with a sparkle in his eyes. (Red eyes, despite them being on their yellow life. A quirk of his nether hybridity, maybe.) “Do you think all the other soulbounds are just hookin’ up in their downtime?”
“Tango!”
Jimmy laughed, and he would have shoved his soulmate’s shoulder for such a cheeky joke - had he not lost his footing for a second time in as many minutes. The heel of his sneaker slipped on the dirt and he let out a sharp gasp, choking back a startled chirp at the swoop in his stomach that often accompanied a drop. But he didn’t fall. Instead, Tango was faster, snagging his arm and his shirt and reeling him in. He staggered back a step or two toward solid land and caught Jimmy against his chest, holding him tightly as though worried his soulmate might fall again if he let go.
Tango was so warm.
It was all Jimmy could think about for a moment. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known that already - after all, they’d hugged before, and Tango had picked him up and spun him around the day he’d brought him cows. The man was a walking furnace. But now that Jimmy was fully enveloped in Tango’s arms with his face tucked against the blazeborn’s shoulder? It was - it was so so comfortable, and just a bit distracting.
Jimmy raised his head slowly, pulling back just far enough to catch the concerned and startled and slightly amused look Tango was pinning him with.
“Er…hi?” Jimmy stammered, and he felt his face flush the minute he heard himself. Hi? Really?
“Hey there,” Tango teased lightly. “Falling for your soulmate already, huh?”
Jimmy squeaked. He actually squeaked, an odd avian vocalization that was accompanied by his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. No, he wanted to say, no I’m not, I swear, I won’t make this weird– But Tango reacted before Jimmy could even formulate a response, his eyes flying wide and his hair bursting into flames and a strange wheezing sound leaving him that Jimmy couldn’t quite pinpoint the familiarity of. He cleared his throat and stepped back, keeping his hands on Jimmy’s arms long enough to make sure he was stable before letting go. Then he swung them awkwardly at his sides, making a few jerky aborted gestures toward the much less precarious edge of the ravine that he’d come from.
“I’ve gotta - ya know - with the begging, and the–” He tripped over his own feet and caught himself immediately, his tail coming to coil tightly around his upper thigh. “Mhm. Yup. Iron to track down, potential food action–”
“Thanks,” Jimmy blurted out, and he was sure if his wings had been out he’d be half-hidden in them by now. “For saving me.”
Tango paused at the cliff’s edge. The flames were still crackling through his hair but they had softened, and a fond expression slowly made its way onto Tango’s face. Something in the bond warmed, though Jimmy wasn’t quite experienced enough to be able to identify what it meant yet.
“Any time, Rancher,” Tango said. Then he was going, darting away from the ravine with his silhouette aglow.
Rancher.
Jimmy brought a hand up to his arm where Tango had held him, where he’d held on to stop him from falling. A tiny smile danced across his face. Rancher. Another nickname. A newer one, and one they’d both used a handful of times for each other since Tango had coined their team name, but still new. New and warm and–
–and Jimmy was getting distracted again.
He took a breath and shook himself, heading off toward the far end of the bridge where he’d seen Grian earlier. Before Tango had shown up. Before Tango had decided to be very very distracting all of a sudden. He hoped Grian hadn’t wandered far.
(He also knew he wouldn’t be upset with Tango for distracting him, even if Jimmy couldn’t find his brother after this. It was hard to be upset with Tango over much of anything.)
It was probably more Jimmy’s fault for getting distracted, but that had been a recurring problem since Tango had built them the ranch in the first place. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why it had started there, he only knew that after he’d come home to find Tango putting the finishing touches on their new house, something had shifted. Something tiny but important. Something that put Tango on his mind more often than he cared to admit, and more than was probably normal when making a new friend.
But they were soulmates, Jimmy reasoned, clambering up the bank toward where he’d seen Grian before. They were bound to think about each other a lot when their souls were linked. Damage and other sensations were shared between them, and even certain emotions seemed to make their way down the bond. He’d be surprised if everyone else wasn’t thinking about their soulmate as often as Jimmy found himself thinking about Tango.
Right?
Right.
Right.
…he could think on it more after he’d found his brother.
While Jimmy’s luck in finding Grian had been good, his luck on the goat horn front wasn’t fairing so well. Grian had sadly (or not-so-sadly, Jimmy wasn’t sure) informed him that he’d given away the last of the horns he’d collected, and that he wasn’t sure if there even were any goats with horns left to get them from. He’d also taunted Jimmy with his own horn, teasing him for not being in the “Secret Horn Club”...but that wasn’t about to dissuade Jimmy from his quest, no sir.
He’d even told Grian as much when Grian’s horn playing had set off the whole server, a chorus of sounds that Jimmy wished he could be a part of.
“No. I can’t,” Jimmy bemoaned, spinning on the spot to try and figure out where all the glorious echos of horns were even coming from. “I can’t! I’m - I’m going, Grian,” he decided, rounding on his older brother, who was laughing so hard he’d taken to leaning against his crafting table for support. Jimmy puffed up his chest with his arms akimbo, staring Grian down with a determined spark in his eyes. “I’m getting a horn whether you like it or not. I’m joining the club! When I get it, I’m coming back.”
He turned on his heel with the intent to make a dramatic exit, but yet another horn went off right behind him accompanied by Grian’s delirious giggling, and Jimmy let out a hysterical laugh of his own.
“Oh my gosh, this is torture!”
He had half a mind to shove his fingers in his ears, if only to add flavor to his departure from Grian’s base.
“Wait - waitwaitwait, Tim. Tim, hold on–” Grian was still giggling but Jimmy turned around anyway, watching Grian raise one hand in surrender and using the other to banish his horn to his inventory. “No more, I promise. Just - ahah - just stay for a second, alright?”
Jimmy cocked his head to the side, a smile still hovering on his face. What was Grian playing at? He couldn’t help but be curious. When Grian beckoned him over with one hand, Jimmy sighed and went along with the summons. Grian was still green and Jimmy was on yellow. Nothing was going to happen this early in the game, surely. He could save his paranoia for a few weeks down the line.
“How are things going?” Grian asked once he’d caught his breath, smiling warmly at his sibling. “Having fun so far?”
Oh. He was just catching up, that was all. Something in Jimmy’s chest unknotted and he relaxed, taking a seat on the furnace next to Grain when he was invited to do so.
“Good!” he said brightly. Honestly. “Really good. We’re a bit - er - poor at the moment, seein’ as we lost everything a week into the game and all, but…” He chuckled lightly and shrugged. “Could be worse.”
“You’re soulbound to Tango, right?” Grian asked, nudging his shoulder with a grin. “Good guy, Tango. I’m not sure if he’s any less clumsy than you are but–”
“Oi!” Jimmy shouldered him right back, feeling some satisfaction when Grian’s wings shot out from their confines of code to help keep him balanced. “Rude! I don’t know if I should be defending myself or my soulmate here!” Grian was still snickering, mirth dancing in his expression. Jimmy huffed. “But yeah, it’s Tango. We’re doin’ good, me an’ him. Like I said, a bit poor, but we’re working on it.”
“Oh you’re poor are you?” Grian repeated, his tone lightly mocking. “Gee, if you weren’t armorless and you hadn’t said it twice, I never would’ve guessed!”
“Come off it,” Jimmy groused, nudging his brother again. This time Grian flopped dramatically off the other side of the crafting table he’d been perched on and landed in a crouch in the grass at the last second, his wings flaring for flavor. Jimmy bit back a laugh. “Nice one. Eight out o’ ten.”
“Only an eight?” Grian made a face. He stood and stretched, his arms and wings reaching high above his head. “Oh, that was a nine at least.”
“Nah, you went a bit floppy for a bit there. Messy dismount.”
Grian rolled his eyes with a huff. Jimmy could only grin.
“You’re really alright though?” Grian asked, sidestepping the mess of chests and furnaces that Jimmy was still perched on. He crouched over the small garden he and Scar had managed to start and began tending to the crops. “Other than the whole being poor thing. I’m not gonna be hearing complaints at the next server meeting, am I?”
“Nah, nothin’ like that,” Jimmy shook his head. He leaned back on his palms, enjoying the sunshine for however long it would last. It was approaching sundown, and he knew he should probably head home soon so he wouldn’t be caught unawares in the dark, and armorless to boot. But he could spend a little more time with his brother, surely. “The neighbors are bein’ nice, and Tango’s been great. All good at the ranch.” A soft smile lit up his face. “Did I tell you we have a ranch now?”
“A ranch?” Grian cast him an amused look over his shoulder. “Don’t you need animals for that?”
“You know we have cows,” Jimmy told him, rolling his eyes. “We’ll get more later. Horses, maybe. Or some chickens.” He didn’t mention that they already had chickens hiding away in their basement. “Still a ranch.” The conversation lulled for a moment, a comfortable quiet, and Jimmy’s thoughts wandered. “Tango built it,” he mused softly, the memory of returning to a near-finished home that busy afternoon warming him from the inside. “I came home an’ it was just…there. Almost done an’ everything.” Tango had looked so sheepish about it too, maybe even nervous, like Jimmy might not like what he’d made. But it was perfect. Of course it was perfect, his soulmate had made it for them. His mate. His–
What.
Jimmy went stiff as the thought registered, a strangled chirp muffling itself in the back of his throat. He cast a half a look back over his shoulder and was only minorly aware of the relief that washed over him when he was sure Grian hadn’t noticed anything amiss. His thoughts were firmly elsewhere.
Mate? His pulse skipped at the thought, his face warming. That - no. He and Tango weren’t like that. They weren’t. They were soulmates, yeah, but that was - that was part of the game. Right?
Right?
Except Tango had built them both a house, and Jimmy hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since, had he? And it was only now that he began to wonder if maybe that was because it felt like more than a house. It felt like…like a nest. A safe place, a comfortable place, private and special and sentimental and–
…and it was starting to feel a lot like back during Third Life, when Scott had built Jimmy that new base as a gift after seeing how frustrated Jimmy was getting with his own building skills. Back when flowers and cottage doors and stargazing by the lake had felt like much more significant things than they would have been otherwise. The last time Jimmy had started courting someone. This was starting to feel a lot like that, but more, because he was beginning to realize that all those warm thoughts and feelings he kept associating with Tango (the ones he kept brushing aside) made him feel a lot more giddy, a lot warmer, than he could remember feeling in the past. His bright grins, his laughter, his nicknames, his enthusiasm…
Unbidden, Jimmy’s thoughts drifted back to the bridge over the ravine, to Tango catching him and grinning down at him and how warm he’d been and ‘Falling for your soulmate already, huh?’ and ‘Any time, Rancher’ and–
…oh, void, he was screwed.
Jimmy sat forward and raked a hand back through his hair, chewing his lip for a moment before realizing that Tango would feel it and resolutely forcing himself to not do that.
Maybe it was just a crush, he reasoned. A brief, fleeting crush, spurred on by how close they had to be with the soulbond and everything. It was a pitiful thing to hope for, he knew, but he and Tango had only recently become friends. It wasn’t every day Jimmy made a new friend, and if he messed this up - if he assumed there were real feelings here and it ended up being nothing more than a crush–
“You alright Tim?” Grian spoke up from behind him. He didn’t sound too concerned, more curious than anything. “You’ve been quiet for a bit now, mate.”
“Er - yeah, I’m–” Jimmy paused. Grian. He could ask Grian. Sort of. Asking him directly, admitting his own suspected feelings - that felt like a horrible idea. But he could ask something else.
“...hey Grian?” he mused hesitantly, turning around on the furnace so he could see his brother properly. “Scar has one of your feathers, doesn’t he?”
Jimmy could remember seeing the flash of red hanging around Scar’s neck back on the bridge, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t know Grian and Scar were a proper item. Scar had been accepted into their flock ages back, with Pearl and Mumbo being all too eager to let him join. Grian paused in his gardening to shoot Jimmy a strange look.
“He does, yeah,” he said after a moment. “He has done for a while. You know this, Jimmy. Why, is this some belated disapproval of my mate, or–”
“No!” Jimmy blurted. “No, ‘course not! Just - curious about how all that happened, is all.”
Grian stared at him for a moment longer, then a crooked smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
“Is my baby brother asking for relationship advice?” Jimmy went a brilliant shade of pink, and Grian grinned. “Awww, you are! This is adorable!”
“Oi!” Jimmy groused, summoning a lone stick from his inventory to chuck in Grian’s direction. It bounced harmlessly off of the wing Grian flared out to shield himself from it. “Just answer the question, alright?”
Grian stuck his tongue out in retaliation. He seemed to realize that Jimmy was serious about this though, because he shook out his wings and turned back to the garden without another taunt.
“What question?” he asked instead. “If you’re asking for our whole love story that’s gonna take a while.”
“No, just…courting stuff,” Jimmy mumbled. He shrugged awkwardly, and it was tempting to summon his wings just to have something to hide his flustered complexion. “Like - I dunno, if your partner’s not an avian, is building a house the same thing as building a nest? Or do the courting practices even count for them? Did Scar ever do courtship stuff without realizing it?”
“You know that’s three questions and not one, right?” Grian asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Jimmy let out a distressed twitter and Grian’s expression softened. He sighed and brushed the soil from his hands, getting to his feet with a stretch. “Is this about Scott?”
Jimmy balked at the question, his mouth opening and closing a few times. He hadn’t expected Grian to jump to such a conclusion. What did he think was happening? That Jimmy and Scott were mending fences? Or that Jimmy was trying to figure out where his last relationship had gone wrong? Truthfully things had ended well enough with Scott, as mutually as possible, and Jimmy didn’t really have any hangups about what had happened with them. They’d already talked through it more than once. The air was clear.
Granted, if it meant Grian wouldn’t assume Jimmy was talking about Tango of all people…
“...does it have to be about anyone specific?” he hedged, dodging his brother’s searching look. “I’m just rubbish at that kind of thing, alright? Scott kind of took lead last time, so I didn’t really need to know everything. Or at least I thought I didn’t. But now–” He shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I just thought you might know some stuff.”
Grian was quiet as he crossed the grass to sit beside his brother again. He bumped shoulders with Jimmy, one tricolor wing draping against his brother’s back, and Jimmy finally gave in to the temptation to summon his own. He rolled his shoulders and golden feathers came into being in a wave of pixels, his wings nudging against Grian’s in a familiar way. The comfort of flock.
“I built our base back in Third Life,” Grian told him after a moment. “I don’t think I knew it at the time, but I was basically building a nest for someone who wasn’t an avian like me. I worked on it late into the night for days to make it perfect. Scar kept trying to get me to sleep but…” He huffed out a half-laugh. “I was pretty stubborn about it. And I think he realized it meant a lot before I did, because he praised the final product for ages afterwards. I’d built far more impressive things before, but he acted like it was a masterpiece.”
Jimmy could absolutely imagine Scar acting like that too. He’d only seen the over-the-top schmoozing Scar would do as a salesman, but it seemed to translate well to some kind of romantic adoration in his mind’s eye.
“And yeah, alright, there was a learning curve,” Grian went on, and Jimmy could sense the roll of his eyes without looking. “‘Cause his peoples’ courting practices are a bit different than ours. I didn’t know he was flirting every time he gifted me something he’d managed to steal or weasel off of another player, or when he dragged me into a prank, or when he got competitive against me. He had to sit me down one day to tell me the entire Mycellium War from Season 7 was meant to be a romantic gesture, as if that didn’t flip my entire world view on its head!”
Grian’s wings had puffed up behind him and he sounded annoyed, though there was a familiar fondness beneath it that made it clear he found it sort of endearing despite the frustration.
“He’d been trying to court you for that long?” Jimmy asked, surprised, and Grian huffed.
“Not that I knew it,” he drawled. “But yes. I only sorted out my own feelings during Third Life.”
“Because of the nest thing?”
“Because of the preening,” Grian corrected him. His heel knocked back a few times against the chest he was sitting on with a dull rhythmic thunk. “Scar was on red by then, and we’d been living in the desert for ages. I don’t keep my wings hidden as much as you do, so I’d gotten sand in all sorts of uncomfortable places in my feathers.” Jimmy winced in sympathy. “I was trying to clean them out a bit and Scar offered to help. Normally I’d say no, o’ course; only you and Pearl and Mumbo were allowed to do it back then. But I said yes. I wanted to say yes. I got this funny feeling in my chest, like this was right, and I sort of…put the pieces together.” He chuckled lightly, his expression warm. “I figured out the whole base-building thing then too, and Scar asked me if I liked the flowers he gave me with this really nervous smile on his face, and it all clicked in my head. We ended up officially courting pretty soon after that.”
Jimmy thought this over for a long, quiet moment. I got this funny feeling in my chest, like this was right, Grian had said. And wasn’t that familiar? Coming home to find Tango finishing their home, and something stirring beneath his ribcage that made him more emotional than he should have been at seeing a newly-finished base. The giddy feeling in his chest when Tango praised him for bringing home the cows by picking him up and spinning him around. The way he warmed every time Tango used a nickname for him. Some of it wasn’t specifically related to courtship rituals, but it all gave him the same feeling. The same rightness.
“...so…so if I wanted to make it work with someone who wasn’t an avian…?” he asked hesitantly, and Grian bumped shoulders with him.
“Ask them about their culture,” he said, as if this was obvious. “Figure out what’s different and work with it. Like - alright, I gave Scar my feather, right?” Jimmy nodded. “And he hasn’t got feathers to give. So he made this out of enchanted glass to try and mix my traditions and his.” He tugged a chain out from under his sweater to reveal a shining silver-blue pendant hanging from it. Jimmy let out a soft breath. It was beautiful. He couldn’t be sure what it was meant to be exactly - it looked a bit like lightning and a bit like the gossamer fin of a tropical fish, delicate and translucent with dividing branches and sharp-looking ends. Jimmy wasn’t quite sure what Scar’s origin was as it stood, but he wasn’t about to ask after something so private. Grian stowed the pendant away again with a smirk. “He stole some really rare sand from Cub to make the glass for it, so it’s pretty significant. Brilliant on his part to even come up with the idea.”
Jimmy wasn’t sure what thievery or ‘Cub’ had to do with its significance, but he did know Scar had made a habit out of stealing from players during every Life season to date. Maybe there was more reason for it than just Scar being Scar. Maybe it was a cultural thing. He couldn’t be sure.
But it did make him think. If he ever actually courted Tango - if Tango even returned his feelings, which Jimmy doubted - what would Tango give him in return for a feather? What would compare to building a nest? What sorts of things did blazeborns do for their significant others…?
“If you’re looking for tips about elven courting, maybe ask Martyn,” Grian said, abruptly sending Jimmy’s train of thought off the rails. “He doesn’t stick to tradition the same way Scott does, but he might be able to help.”
“It’s not Scott,” Jimmy grumbled, though with how awkward he sounded about it he wasn’t sure he was convincing Grian of that.
“Mhm.”
Jimmy just sighed and slumped, ignoring Grian’s stifled laughter.
“Well whoever it is,” Grian said teasingly, “I hope that helps a bit.” The mirth melted away and only warmth was left behind. He leaned forward to try and catch his brother’s eye. “I know I tease, but I’m really happy you were comfortable enough to ask me for advice. You don’t do that a lot.”
“I don’t usually have to,” Jimmy returned. He shifted his wings to brush against Grian’s. “...thanks for being willing to share.”
“I’m your brother. It’s my job.”
“I thought your job as my brother was to pester me relentlessly?”
Grian shoved him off the furnace. From his heap on the ground, Jimmy flipped him off.
(The startled curiosity from Tango’s end of the bond only distracted him for half a breath. Obviously his soulmate had felt the impact.)
“That too!” Grian said brightly, his head cocking to the side in amusement, and he didn’t even offer a hand to help as Jimmy dragged himself up off the grass and straightened his clothes. It was a distinctly Pearl-esque response. It was only when Jimmy had shaken out his wings and banished them again that Grian got to his feet, his tone back to that warm one from before.
“You should be heading back,” he told him, brushing a bit of dirt from Jimmy’s shoulder. His eyes flicked skyward. “It’s getting dark. Your base isn’t too far, right?”
“Over the hill,” Jimmy gestured. “Through the trees a bit. I’ll be fine.”
“No armor,” Grian reminded him. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. “Poor.”
“Yeah, poor, not incapable.” Jimmy batted him away. “I’ve got like ten minutes before the zombies start spawning, alright?”
“Eight if you’re lucky.”
“Nine at least,” Jimmy quipped back. “But only if you stop your nagging, mum.”
He sidestepped Grian to start off toward the Ranch, but only made it half a block before a hand on his arm stopped him. He paused to turn back, meeting Grian’s gaze.
“You can come talk to me anytime,” Grian said softly. “You know that, right? Anytime at all. If you say you need my help, I’ll listen.”
Jimmy’s expression softened and he smiled.
“I know, G.” He warbled out a familiar melody and Grian mimicked it, their flock’s call always on the tip of their tongues. “I’ll let you know when I get back to my base.”
“You’d better.”
Grian let his hand fall away and gently shoved his brother toward the treeline, already wandering back to the garden. Jimmy chuckled and watched him go for only a moment before beginning the trek back home.
Home.
A flutter arose in his chest and he sighed, knowing he had a complicated game ahead of him. He’d have a hard time acting normal around Tango now that he was sure of how he felt. Maybe he’d be able to pretend like nothing had changed.
Maybe.
…for some reason he doubted it.