A Tale of Two Fords

Chapter 7

That one incident, Ford realized, had kickstarted everything.
Two days later, when Fiddleford finally finished a project of his in the library and decided to stay in the room and relax, Stanford had stood up to his spiraling-out-of-control feelings and sat down across from his roommate and just talked.
Nothing much, yet.
Just... Talked.
Talked about what he planned to do after graduation, why he wanted so desperately for his grant to get approved, what had drawn him into the whole paranormal adventures— he just talked. And (lord almighty), Fiddleford listened.
    He listened.
"...I guess six fingers makes you want to meet aliens or some kind of thing like that..." Ford babbled on. His roommate seemed content, though, with listening to his reasons and trying to piece his life choices together.
"I suppose it's a polydactyl kinda thing Hm?" Fidds cut in. His friend nodded.
"I suppose..."
"Interestin'."
Was it really...?
"I... I suppose..."
Ford glanced over at Fiddleford and immediately looked back down at the notebook in his lap, regretting his mistake. The second he caught sight of the oddly-content-with-life smile plastered on the southern man's face, his heart began to beat out of his chest.
    'No... No no no no no no... What is this...? Oh god no... No no no... Ugh...' Ford panicked as he tried to grasp what was going on. 'I'm feeling things..!'
    Things for Fiddleford McGucket, nonetheless...
    "Stanford..? You doin' alright..?"
    "Yes..."
    His response came out as a squeak. He inwardly cursed.
    "Oh.. That's good."
    "Y-Yeah..."
    Whatever confidence Ford had started this conversation with was obliterated at this point thanks to that godforsaken smile alone.
    Minutes of nothing but the quiet plucking of the shorter man's banjo strings filled the air. To most people, the musical noise would have been nice... Relaxing, even. To just have that peaceful quiet atmosphere accompanied with melodic undertones....
    Ford couldn't stand it any longer.
    "We should play a game!" he blurted out suddenly. Fiddleford looked up from his instrument.
    "A game?" he drawled. "What kinda game do you have in mind, Stanford..?"
    The taller man racked his brain for whatever little romantic 'tactics' he had learned over the years (which, wasn't many). There had to be some way to turn this situation into a stimulating enough scenario...
    Right..?
    "T-Truth or dare..?"
    It came off as more of a question than an idea.
    But, either way, the southerner took the sad attempt of bait.
    "Why that sounds swell!" Fiddleford sat up and swiveled to face Ford, smile plastered on his face. "Can I go first?"
    A blink.
    "Uhm... S... Sure!" He had to smile back. "Truth or Uh... Dare?"
    "Truth."
    "Alright... How... Wait no Uh..." he thought. "What's your thoughts on- no no no... Uhm... What- no that's stupid... Uhm..."
    A few stumbles later and his roommate piped up, "C'mon, Stanford, it ain't that hard! Just ask me somethin'!"
    "Okay! Oh.. Uhm.. What..." Ford gulped. "W-What's your favorite color..?"
    And thus begins their long decent into a childish streak of truths.
    "Alright, Fidds. Truth or dare?"
    Until-
    "I'll take my chances." Fiddleford grinned. "Dare."
    Every bone in Ford's body screamed at him at that moment.
    Make a fucking move.
    "I..." Gulp. "I..." Oh man. "I..." Go for it, Sixer. "Idareyoutokissme!"
    Ford blurted the sentence so quickly, it took the both of them a few moments to process what had been demanded, but when they did...
    Silence.
    Fiddleford's face turned a bright shade of red. "W-Well.. I... I mean... I.."
    "It's okay if you don't want to!" his roommate cut him off quickly. Ford looked to the side, wringing his hands together as he did so. "I.. I don't know what I was thinking. It was stupid. Don't do it..."
    "Well... I... I c-can't chicken outta a dare," Ford looked up to meet his roommate's smiling, blushing face. He blinked.
    "W-Wha-"
    Before he could finish, Fiddleford leaned forward. He gently cupped Ford's face in his hands and carefully pressed his lips on to the taller man's.
    Everything seemed to set on fire.
    It was a short-lived moment. The southern man moved to pull away and sit back down. He was stopped by a strong(er) grip on his arms. 
    "S-Stanford..?"
    Ford looked his roommate in the eyes with a surprisingly soft gaze. "Dare..." He murmured. "I pick dare.."
    Fiddleford blinked then seemed to tremble a bit as he gently traced small circles on Ford's face with his thumb. "K... Kiss me again..."
    A dare which he gladly carried out.