Tycho took his hand and Ford spent a moment fighting to control his facial expression. If this was going to be goodbye, if this was it, then it would be easier for both of them if he could pretend stoicism — but if this was it then it was impossible to keep his dismay off his face. And he knew even if this moment wasn't their goodbye that it would be coming soon; he knew he could never ask Tycho to be with him while he was married to someone else. But Ford wasn't married tonight, and he just kept thinking not yet, not yet as though it would be any easier tomorrow, or next week.

When Tycho pulled him into his arms the wave of relief that washed over Ford was overwhelming. He curled in to Ty, head against his chest and one arm wrapping tight against Tycho's waist to keep him close. There were tears in the corners of his eyes and Ford didn't bother trying to wipe them away or hide them, because that would have meant pulling his hand back from Tycho's kisses, and now kisses from Tycho were in limited supply. He couldn't let a single one go to waste.

"Keep holding me," he begged. He couldn't respond to Ty's entreaty not to marry her; he didn't have the strength to leave Tycho's arms again and he thought if he said I have to, it's already done, it'll be in the paper tomorrow then Ty might pull back again. "Please. I love you, I love you so much. Please."

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