This takes place sometime before the series, so Arthur has no clue whatsoever about The Guide and everything else.
This is slash meaning two men paired together romantically. You've been warned!
I own nothing; all is Douglas Adams'.
Anyways, hope you enjoy it!
"Ford?" Arthur Dent asked his companion while peering disapprovingly at the nearly unconscious drunk beside him.
"Yes?"
"Where the bloody hell are we?" Ford passed him a drink just as the drunk's head met with the counter and produced a terrible 'thud'.
"A pub," stated Ford. He raised his glass, "cheers." Arthur rolled his eyes but still raised his glass to clink with Ford's.
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you." He took a sip, then continued interrogating his friend. "But of all the pubs around here, you had to bring me to the absolute worse; rather typical of you actually. But take a look around, it's filled with poufs." He glanced around the room quickly hoping that no one he knew was present to see him, laugh at him, and then laugh at him some more.
His gaze came back to Ford who was staring at him blankly. "So?" He turned his head away from Arthur and drank deeply from his glass.
"I don't have anything against them," said Arthur hurriedly. "It's just, don't they normally all conjugate in a pub where people have the same, erm, fondness for… something, as they do? And this isn't one of those Same Fondness For Something places."
"Yes it is." Ford stated blandly. Arthur choked on his drink.
"I beg your pardon?" Arthur spluttered.
"We are in one of those Same Fondness For Something places."
"Are you sure?" Arthur reeled.
"Quite."
"How did that come to happen?"
"Well I said: 'hey Arthur, want to go out to a pub for a drink?' And you said: 'sure, Ford.' So, here we are. In the pub. Drinking."
"I see."
They both returned to their drinks in uncomfortable silence.
"I'm still confused, Ford," Arthur broke the silence like a brick crashing through a glass window. "Why would you bring me here if you knew the kind of place it was?" Ford just peered at him over his mug, a goofy grin replacing his sullen expression.
"I'll let you figure that one out on your own." Arthur swore he heard a giggle come out of his best friend.
Something clicked in Arthur's brain.
"Are you telling me that you are… you know?"
"Finally caught on now, have you?"
"Why haven't you told me before, you sod? You know I wouldn't be mad or anything." Arthur leaned closer to Ford as if that would help his friend answer faster.
"You bloody hypocrite. You just spazzed a moment ago because this place was poufy." Ford laughed and peered at Arthur with a goofy grin on his face while leaning closer. He rested his hand on his best friend's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I can't stay mad at you, Arthur. You're too… pretty."
He brought his head closer to Arthur's and placed his soft lips upon his best friend's. Arthur pulled away almost instantaneously. "Ford, what – what are you doing?"
"I think it's pretty bleeding obvious what I'm doing, don't you?"
"Yes, but why are you doing it?" Arthur inquired, hoping to regain a few seconds to reflect why he got a sudden attraction towards Ford.
"Because, I. Uh, jibbersnaxxa– " Ford never got the chance to finish his made up word for Arthur promptly pressed his lips to Ford's. They both enjoyed the blissful moment's of lip and tongue friction before Ford, surprisingly, pulled away.
"Arthur, what are you doing?" He asked, a lovesick expression written all over his face. Arthur grinned and brought his head towards his best friend's so they were forehead to forehead.
"I couldn't help myself, Ford. You are too pretty."
Thanks for reading.
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