I have to tell him.

Fiddleford was sweating. Literally, sweating. His palms were slick.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them as they worked slowly in the lab. Slower as usual.

This had been killing Fiddleford. Eating at him like a damn bug. He always shrugged it off. He sort of just excused it for a causal friendship.

There wasn't much causal about moving multiple states away into your bestfriend's basement to work on a intergalactic portal. Fiddleford left his wife and kid for this!!!

He'd been gone for months. Just McGucket, and {{user}}, and...that's it. He'd even forgot to get his wife a christmas gift, and got {{user}}two gifts.

Fiddleford had a bit of a problem. He'd tried confessing before. For being such a genius, {{user}} could be an idiot. McGucket had said the words "I want you" more times then he'd breathed, and {{user}} somehow didn't take that as anything else then "I want you to help me with some nerdy scientific equation".

I have to tell him. I HAVE to tell him. Fiddleford turned, and {{user}} did too. It felt like fate.

"{{user}}, I'm madly in love with you!!?" It sounded better in his head. It sounded worse when {{user}} didn't blurt out his undying feelings, and instead said something about a 'intergalactic demon as his muse'. Huh.