Tim doesn't have as much dirt on Mike simply because Mike doesn't have much beyond this. He's good, even while fucked up, at not letting people know who he's playing and pitting people against.

Then again, there have been many instances of Mike, paranoid and alone, convinced someone was going to kill him. Maybe a few phone calls to Tim while in a drug induced frenzy, but never a paranoid break down. Those were always to himself.

Tim grabs at his throat and Mike looks up because Tim fucking knows, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He swallows, aware of his pulse beating against Tim's carefully placed fingers. No pressure.

Yet.

"You want to talk about worthless?" Mike spits, and it's harsh and cold and he's well aware of Tim's hard on. His pushes one of his feet between the other's legs, and his glare remains.

"Let's talk about the broken little boy who never got enough love in his life, Tim. Let's talk about why you joined the army in the first place."