Tippy greeted him when he arrived at the apartment. "There's no need to apologize," he said before Cortez could get the words out. "It's not yours or Harl's fault that I was blamed."

"Fair enough," said Cortez. "It was my fault that we walked into the wrong room in the first place, though."

"It is," Tippy agreed. "Sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Cortez raised an eyebrow. "I can own my mistakes. Yeah, I went into the wrong room and scared the crap out of some couple. What are you going to do about it."

Tippy smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said. "Harl was going to ask you if I could sit in on your lessons."

"Really?"

"Tippy!" Harl cried from the next room over. "I was gonna ask him!"

"Does it make a difference who asks?" Tippy called back.

Cortez rolled his eyes. "Ugh. You've changed in all the ways that matter, but you're still an annoying prick."

"Excuse me?"

Harl walked in from the bedroom. "I'm glad you're getting comfortable around each other!" he said brightly. "I was worried about that!"

He hugged Tippy tight. Cortez moved to step away and give them space, but Harl grabbed his arm and pulled him in to hug him too. Cortez laughed nervously, acutely aware of his body pressed against both Harl and Tippy, and put one arm around Harl. Tippy didn't seem to mind that he didn't hug him, though that could've also been that Harl snapped his spine.

They were released. "So!" Harl said to Cortez. "Can Tippy help me teach you door powers?"

Cortez hesitated. "I wouldn't mind too much…"

Harl's face fell. "But you would mind?"

"Not that much," Cortez said quickly. "I was just under the impression that, well, this was a romantic thing we were doing together."

"Oh."

"I wouldn't want to get in the way of that," Tippy said. "The only reason I offered at all was because you had a problem using your powers, and I thought I could help. Once that's resolved, I'll step away."

"Right," said Cortez. "Sure, then. Just for a little while."

Tippy nodded. "So what exactly caused you to open the wrong door?"

"We're doing this now?" Cortez cracked a smile. "I dunno, it just happens sometimes. I'm thinking about something else, I open a door, and it's not going to the right place. Happens at work every so often, too."

"At work?" Harl said in alarm. "You didn't tell me that!"

"It doesn't happen often enough to be a problem."

"I see," said Tippy. "I know how to fix it. We found a place you can practice that's unoccupied, if you'd like to go now."

Harl looked at Cortez. "Do you want to?"

Cortez checked his watch. "Sure," he said. "We've got plenty of time before we actually have a lunch date, anyway."

Tippy smiled. "I'll make sure to leave before then."

"Alright!" Harl grinned and darted to the nearest door. "Let's go!"

---

The place Harl had found was the junkyard. Apparently he had befriended the man who owned it; Cortez watched as Harl chatted with him while a dog attempted to bite Tippy's ankles.

"Cortez," Harl said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "This is Cluster! We met when I ran away from the award ceremony for saving the city!"

Cluster looked up at Cortez with a frown. "So you also have door powers?" he said gruffly. "How'd you get them?"

Cortez shrugged. "Tippy gave them to me. It's what I get for my unfortunate choice of profession."

"You're a doorman, huh?"

"Regrettably."

"I'd offer you a change of career, but the junkyard runs fine with just Jowls, and I don't even have to have to pay him!"

Cluster laughed. Cortez laughed with him. He had to admit, a change of career was appealing, but he would choose something other than a junkyard.

"That was a joke," Cluster added. "Jowls is union."

The dog barked, and the three of them looked to see Tippy frantically scaling a pile of garbage to escape being bitten. "Don't know why he's fussing," Cluster said. "He's got all his shots."

"We'd better go check on them," Harl said. "Um, Cluster, we're just gonna be practicing door power stuff for a little while. I'll talk to you later!"

He grabbed Cortez's arm and tugged him away. Before they reached Tippy, Harl stopped and frowned at him.

"What's wrong?" Cortez asked.

"Your job's not going well, is it?" Harl said.

"Oh, God no," Cortez said. "But it's fine," he added quickly when Harl's frown deepened. "It's normal to hate your job, you know?"

"Freya likes her job," said Harl. "So does Mr. Produce, and Bob and Clemmons, and Hacksaw Hank, and–"

Cortez sighed. "Well, I don't like mine," he said. "It's really not a problem, Harl."

"If you say so," said Harl. "I just don't like seeing you unhappy."

"Everyone's got something that makes them unhappy, even if it's not a job. That's just life." Cortez smiled. "I'm happy with you, Harl. Don't forget that."

Harl managed a smile back. "Okay."

"A little help?" Tippy called.

Harl turned around. "Don't worry, Tippy, his bark is worse than his bite!"

"Easy for you to say when he's currently biting me!"

"Oh, no! Jowls! Down!"

Cortez followed Harl to remove the dog from Tippy's leg, but Harl's concern still nagged at him. His job was tolerable. It paid the bills. He suffered through a few work shifts and spent his free time with Harl. Wasn't that all he could ask for?

---

"Let's get started," Tippy said. "Though I must admit, the equipment here is suboptimal."

Cortez rolled his eyes and looked around at the variety of doors in the junkyard. Most were without frames, leaning against piles and large pieces of junk, and quite a few were from cars, refrigerators, and other non-building structures. "They work, don't they?"

"They sure do!" Harl dragged over the side of a car, complete with the front and rear doors; good grief, he was that strong? He must have gotten a supernatural boost in strength after Paradoors. "We tested it last night!"

"Huh," said Cortez. "How long did it take you to set up?"

"Only a day," Tippy said. "Harl did most of the heavy lifting by himself."

"Aw," Harl said. "You helped too! You made some of the doors?"

Cortez's eyebrows shot up. "Made them how?"

Tippy looked away. "It's not as impressive as it sounds," he said, his cheeks pink. "I don't craft them, I just use my powers."

"So you don't want to show off?" Cortez said. "Come on. What do your powers do?"

"Well, if you insist." Tippy chuckled and straightened his back. "Like this."

He waved a hand in the air and an elegant wooden door simply popped into existence. Cortez blinked. It didn't go away.

"I can summon doors from Paradoors," Tippy said. "They're not unusual on their own, normally, but I can hypothetically make them out of any material. I try to stick to wood, but I experimented with ice a few times."

"Oh my God," Cortez said. He walked up to the door and put a hand on its solid surface. "Oh my God, this is incredible! You can just make them out of nothing?"

"Not really? They technically exist in Paradoors already, I just–"

Harl barreled into Tippy and hugged him tight. "It is incredible!" he said while Tippy squeaked incoherently. "Even if they already exist in Paradoors, he has to sort out all the ones that are okay to bring over from the ones that are like, radioactive or whatever."

"What?" said Cortez.

"Don't worry about it, Tippy's really careful."

Tippy managed to speak. "Can I breathe, Harl?"

Harl released him. Tippy took a few deep breaths and stood up straight again. "Harl can do it, too," he said to Cortez. "It's possible this is something you're also capable of."

"Seriously?" Cortez said. "I mean… I don't know, this feels like a lot."

"So let's start with the small stuff!" Harl said brightly.

He walked over to the newly-summoned door and pushed it open. Cortez heard another door open at the same time, and he looked over to see one of the car doors open outward. "What shape the doors are doesn't really matter," Harl said when Cortez questioned it. "As long as they're big enough to fit a person, 'cause you don't change size."

Cortez watched him step through the door and appear on the other side of the junkyard. "Alright," he said. "So to open them to the right place…"

Tippy cleared his throat. "Your issue was that you let your mind wander while using your powers," he said. "Ideally, when that happens, the door would take you to where it normally leads, but since you only recently started using your powers, they took you to, essentially, a random location. What I want you to practice doing is to tap into your powers while opening a door, but allowing it to take you to its default location."

"Alright," said Cortez. "Sounds simple enough. It's like building up muscle memory, right?"

"Pretty much!" Harl ran back over to them. "Once you've done it enough, you won't end up using them by accident anymore."

"That would be great, honestly." Cortez chuckled. "God knows I need to get that under control when my job is literally opening doors."

He thought he heard Tippy start to say something, but when he looked, the other doorman was closing the door Harl had left open. "Here," he said. "Tap into your powers and go through this door."

"Sure," Cortez said.

He opened the door and nearly stepped off the edge of a skyscraper.

Cortez yelped. The sudden change in atmospheric pressure pulled him forward, and he nearly fell through before Tippy wrapped his arms around his chest and yanked him back. Cortez stumbled, and if not for Tippy supporting him he would have collapsed on the ground.

Harl ran forward and slammed the door shut. "Cortez! Are you okay?"

The huge drop spun in his vision. "Just peachy," Cortez croaked. "I need more practice, huh?"

"Undoubtedly," said Tippy. "Maybe you should sit down for a minute before we continue."

Cortez managed to get solid footing and let Harl and Tippy lead him to a rusted folding chair. He accepted the bottle of water Harl gave him and waited for his heart to stop pounding.

Eventually, he was good to try again.

---

By the time Cortez called it quits, the sun was high in the sky. "We only have so much time in the day," Cortez said with half a smile. "I can't be practicing this forever. Do you want to go for lunch?"

"Sure!" Harl said brightly. "Let me say goodbye to Tippy, first."

"None of that. He can come with us."

Tippy looked at him incredulously. "Really?"

Cortez rolled his eyes. "Don't make a fuss about it, we're dating the same person, we ought to spend some time together."

"I suppose I didn't expect that," Tippy said. "Thank you, Cortez."

"Yeah, yeah. Where are we going for lunch?"

They said goodbye to Cluster and chose a small Indian restaurant. It was across the city, but no matter–Tippy got them to the adjacent lot in an instant. They each ordered a different bowl of curry and shared them all between themselves, chatting about a variety of subjects. Harl talked about the people he had helped out that week, Cortez shared some of the shows he had been watching, and Tippy mentioned he had a nice meeting with an old friend the other day, which Cortez was glad to hear; the city was recovering from Paradoors, and Tippy had repented enough for his mistakes.

"We should do this more often," Cortez said. "I mean, sure, we both want one-on-one time with Harl, but it's nice for the three of us to hang out, too."

"Yeah!" Harl said, but his face fell the next moment. "Oh, but do you have time? You don't have that many days off…"

"Sure, I have a full time job, but I'm honestly thinking about reducing my hours." Cortez shrugged. "You're right that I don't enjoy it there, Harl. Maybe I don't have to put up with it as much as I do."

"Okay!" And Harl was back to full grin. "That sounds really nice!"

He kissed Cortez, turned around and kissed Tippy, then hugged them both tight. Cortez smiled and hugged both of them back.

---

He tried to schedule a meeting with his boss, but their schedules didn't align, so Cortez sent an email instead. His boss said he would consider reducing his hours, but with no indication as to when that would happen. Cortez sighed and closed his computer; he would have to follow up later.

He texted Harl the update, and got a response back almost instantly. "good luck! i'm sure he'll understand!" followed by a number of multicolored heart emojis. Cortez laughed and sent a heart back.

Harl continued texting.

< are you busy now?
< can i come over?

Cortez sent back a quick "sure" and waited. Moments later, he heard the apartment door open, accompanied by Harl's cheerful voice. "Hi, Cortez!"

"Hello to you too, Harl," he said, standing up and greeting him with a kiss. "What's the occasion?"

Harl giggled. "I just wanted to see you! You're normally too tired after work for me to come over."

"True, true. I had a little more energy today." Cortez smiled. "Do you want to do anything special?"

"Nah, we can just hang out."

They turned on the TV and cuddled on the couch for a while. During a commercial break, Harl wiggled closer to Cortez and said, "Can I talk about Tippy?"

"What?" Cortez said. "Why would you need to ask?"

"I guess I'm just nervous," Harl said. "I'm glad you're getting along, but… you used to hate each other."

"True." Cortez shrugged. "I'm fine talking about him, though, if that's what you want to do."

"I mean…"

Harl trailed off. Cortez sighed. "How serious is this?"

"I know we don't want to talk about it," he said, "and I don't even want to think about it, but what happened in Paradoors…"

"Very serious, then."

Harl buried his face in Cortez's chest. "Do you forgive him?" he mumbled.

"Oh, boy, that's a strong word." Cortez patted Harl's back. "I can understand why he did it, and I understand why he regrets it, too. He's worked enough to improve himself that I trust he won't make the same mistake twice. So, yeah, I guess I do forgive him."

"But it wasn't easy, right?"

"Of course not, Harl, he tried to kill me, and in the process, he hurt someone I deeply care about." Cortez leaned his head against the armrest and stared at the ceiling. Absentmindedly, he tapped into his door powers–just enough to feel it, like a sixth sense. "If you weren't close to him, I wouldn't have a reason to ever be near him. But you love him, so I stuck around to see what the big deal was."

Harl laughed quietly, muffled by Cortez's shirt. "I do love him," he said, lifting his head up. "It makes me happy that you get along. I kept worrying you would have an argument."

"What brings all this up?"

"Um." Harl averted his eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

Harl hesitated for a long moment. "When I was with Tippy on the spaceship," he said, "I really cared about him. I didn't think all the things he said about Paradoors were real, but I believed that he believed them, and I wanted to help him. I thought… I thought we could get to Earth, and everything would be okay."

Cortez nodded. "But?"

"He scared me," Harl said. "I knew he cared about Paradoors, but… he left the spaceship without a suit, Cortez. If Paradoors hadn't been real, he would have died."

Cortez kept his hand on Harl's back and moved it in slow circles. "I know," he said. "I know."

Harl put his head down again. "He scared me," he repeated. "I knew it was something he believed in, but I thought–I thought he knew it was unrealistic, just a little bit. And it's not like it was entirely real 'cause the Paradoors he told me about isn't anything like the real thing."

"A utopia," Cortez said. "A world with all the places we were happy, where all our loved ones would be waiting."

"Mm-hm." Harl shifted on one side, lying on Cortez. "But it's not that. It's just doors. And it scared me that he was going to die for it."

Cortez sighed. "How much did he tell you about the Open Doors Society?"

Harl looked up at him. "Not much. Just that they told him about Paradoors."

"A long time ago, right after Tippy and I broke up, I looked them up." Cortez briefly wondered if Harl knew why he and Tippy broke up, but, well, he could cover that later if Harl had any questions. "They're a cult. A cult that pretends it's about science and doorman etiquette or whatever, but they're a cult. They prey on vulnerable people and get them to buy books and online courses and whatever else, and once you're out of money, they drop you."

"I know that much," Harl said. "I mean, sort of. Tippy never called it a cult."

"It's going to be hard for him to admit it. He believed what they told him up until a few months ago. Cults are traumatic, and when Tippy first joined…" He shook his head. "He said they supported him after his mom died. Really, they just saw an easy target."

"That's awful!"

"They're a group of truly awful people," said Cortez. "And it will take a long, long time for Tippy to unlearn what they taught him. More than a few months, for sure."

Harl sniffed and rubbed his nose. Cortez's eyebrows shot up. "Are you crying?"

"Only a little." Harl turned away. "I'm just scared. Tippy's trying so hard to improve himself, and I want to help him, but… what if the stuff I like about him is just what the cult made him believe?"

"Harl, Harl…" Cortez caressed his face, running a finger over his sideburns and to the stubble on his chin. "If Tippy is only so charming, charismatic, and kind because he learned it from the cult, then it means he was able to turn their awful teachings into something beautiful. The Open Doors Society doesn't get the credit for that."

"I've never heard you call him kind before."

"Yeah, well, don't tell him I said it."

Harl laughed. "I should probably go back and talk to him," he said. "We didn't have an argument, not exactly, but… I should go back."

Cortez smiled. "That's a good idea. I don't want to be the cause of any strife in your relationship."

"Can I come back here, later?"

"I don't know, it's getting pretty late…"

Harl smiled. "I could spend the night."

For a moment, Cortez ceased to have coherent thoughts. The only thing that mattered was Harl's warm body lying on his chest. Then he shook his head. "Only if you need to, alright? I'm not an expert, but I don't think running off after a not-exactly-argument and spending the night with your other boyfriend would look great in Tippy's eyes."

"Yeah, you're right." Harl leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Another night, then."

Cortez hugged him tight. "Whenever you're ready," he said, wondering just how ready he was himself.

Harl left, and Cortez fell asleep on the couch.

---

He would show up for his shift, clock in, and go through the motions. The job didn't matter, he told himself. He would get less hours, and who knows? Maybe one day he could quit.

Lunch break. Text Harl. Back to work until his shift ended. Cortez clocked out and went home. Harl couldn't meet that night, but maybe he could come over tomorrow? There were only two more days until Cortez's day off.

The next day. Cortez clocked in for a late shift and took his sweet time idling in the break room before he had to go out.

"Cortez? Boss wants to see you."

Cortez jumped at his coworker's voice. "Oh, great!" he said, shoving his bag in his locker. "Be there in a minute."

He adjusted his collar–man, why was he looking so sharp for a meeting to get less hours? Cortez laughed to himself and pushed open his boss' office door. "I'm here," he said, stepping inside and leaving the door cracked behind him. "What is it?"

His boss looked up from his paperwork. "Sit down, Cortez. I'd like to talk to you about your time request."

"Right," Cortez said. He sat down and forced a smile. "No problems with it, I hope?"

"Well, there is, actually."

His smile vanished. "What?"

His boss sighed. "We had a lot of people quit on us in the past few months, and we're barely covering the shifts we have as it is. You're a full-time employee, Cortez. You have to work the hours we need you for."

Cortez struggled for words. "I don't understand what you're saying," he said. "So, what, I can't work less hours?"

"As the situation stands, no."

"I mean…" Cortez shook his head. "I'm sorry, but this job is taking a lot out of me. I'm working more than forty hours as it is, you could cut some out and still keep me full time."

"My answer is no, Cortez," said his boss. "If you're having issues, we have a employee resource line at–"

"Are you joking?"

His boss frowned. "Excuse me?"

Cortez stood up. "Working here is destroying my mental health, and you're telling me we have a resource line?" he snapped. "You know the resource line doesn't help! I'm not asking to quit, I'm asking for less hours. You even get to pay me less!"

"Calm down, Cortez."

"I am trying to work with you, and you–" Rage flooded his mind, and with it, a strength he didn't know he had. "–you goddamn–"

He balled his hand into a fist.

The next moment, the door slammed shut.

Cortez gasped in surprise. His boss looked like he had near pissed himself at the sudden noise. Cortez looked back at the door, down at his hand, and remembered the base in Paradoors, and how the atmosphere shifted when Tippy entered the room with intent to kill.

He glanced back at his boss. "I quit," he said, and he walked out.

---

He didn't bother with public transportation–the next door he opened led straight to his apartment. He threw his bag on the couch and took a few deep breaths. Okay, so no job. He could get another one. No good reference, sure, but he'd do something. He just needed to calm down.

Cortez paced the living room. What helped him calm down? Watching TV? No, that was little more than background noise. Eating? He didn't have the appetite. Talking to someone? Shirley would be working, but Harl would be free.

He reached for his phone and realized it was still in his locker at work.

"Dammit," he said. Fine, no text. He could still pay a visit. Cortez walked to his apartment door and put his hand on the knob, thinking of Harl. He'd just tell him what happened, maybe have a good cry? He wasn't sure if he would cry, he mostly felt numb. He opened the door and stepped through without paying attention.

"Cortez?!"

He looked up.

Harl was lying on the bed, with Tippy leaning over him, and they had both clearly had their hands up each other's shirts when Cortez walked in. He stared at them for a few moments before the situation clicked in his head, and then he kept staring, because what else was he supposed to do?

Tippy sighed. "Are you going to stand there or join us?" he said.

"Tippy!" Harl exclaimed.

"Well it's either he joins or we stop, because it'll be too awkward to keep going if he just leaves–"

"Sure," Cortez said. "I'll join."

"Really?" Harl squeaked.

"If you're both fine with it, I'd be happy to." Cortez cracked a smile. "I am dating you, and Tippy offered, so…"

"I'll admit," Tippy said, "I didn't think you would agree so quickly."

Cortez walked the short distance to the bed and sat down next to them. "Why not?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tippy sat up and took his hands off Harl's chest. "I know we're on decent enough terms, now, but I would be a fool to think that our dynamic could ever go back to the way it was before, after what I did to hurt you."

Cortez couldn't help but laugh. "You are a fool," he said, and he grabbed Tippy's head and brought him close to kiss him.

Tippy pulled back at first. "Cortez–"

"I already told Harl I forgive you," Cortez said. "What we had before was nice, but you had your own issues, and you weren't working on them back then. We can have something better now. Do you want to try again?"

Tippy put his hand on Cortez's cheek. "If you'll have me," he said softly. "I'd be happy with that."

Harl giggled, reminding them both of his presence. "So we're all dating now?" he said. "That's great! Now we can do everything together!"

Cortez laughed. "Not sure about everything," he said. "But, well, we can at least do this."

He leaned in and kissed Tippy again, and this time, Tippy kissed back. Harl hugged them both when they separated, and Cortez smiled and allowed himself into both of their arms.