Ford might have protested that he was not shy, or he might have reacted to Ty saying the feeling was mutual, but his attention was drawn instead to the middle piece of what Tycho had said. Forthcoming. Ford hadn't noticed as it was happening and he hadn't quite managed to see the pattern in his behavior yet, but now that Ty had stated it plainly it was obvious that he was right. There was no way Ford would have just said I feel safe with you or you're beautiful or I'm in love with you without something external prodding him to do it, even if they were true. And there was a reason for that.

Ford pulled his hand back from Ty's and pressed it against his mouth, as though he were worried something else might unexpectedly tumble out (though what could be more damaging than I'm in love with you?).

"Shit," he muttered, after a beat of merely staring at Ty with wide, panic-striken eyes. "You're right. Obviously. Shit. I shouldn't've — I'm sorry," he fumbled. "I didn't — you don't have to say it just because I did," he finally managed, speaking quickly and letting the words run together. "I know you've got — well, whatever, I mean, it's none of my business, right? But I don't mind," (this was a lie; what would have been closer to the truth was that he'd decided to force himself to not mind). "I'm not trying to like — pressure you into anything, I just — I mean what we've got, that's enough. I'm happy. And I didn't mean to say anything that makes it seem like things should change. I just — Shit."

Ford was spinning himself up, he realized; he was once again thankful that Tycho had led him to the patio, where at least he could freak out without causing a scene. He let out a huff of exasperated breath. "I don't want you to feel like you have to pretend for my sake," he said, rubbing one hand heavily over one side of his face. "Or like you need to treat me with kid gloves to spare my feelings. I knew what I was getting myself into."

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