Stan stifled his loud moan of pain, peeling the sheets from his sensitive skin every curse word he knew flaring deep in his mind lying on the tip of his tongue.
He glanced down at Fidds, passed out to the world after yesterday, nothing short of an explosion could wake him up now Stan suspected kissing him on the forehead and watching him bury his head deeper into his pillow continuing to snore.
He saw six fingers lazily laying across his boyfriend's arm and that strange feeling he hadn't been able to shake began to slowly consume him once more. Growing inside him like weeds that wrapped his heart and squeezed it. He couldn't stop hearing Carla whispering I love you and always will before disappearing from his life forever, yelling she didn't want to hear his insane theories and just wanted him to leave her alone.
The aching burn screaming from his fingers as he tightened his fist together helped calm him enough to not wake either up with rash accusations of their relationship enough to remove himself from the scene and go take a shower to calm his racing treacherous thoughts.
He kept the pounding spray cool to help ease the burning sensation pulsing from his face, neck and arms. It would have been more soothing without the constant stream of unwanted thoughts, clumping up in his mind.
He began to remember not too long ago, Fidds curled into his lap strumming his banjo on the front porch, both taking a breather before Ford woke up and wanted to trek down to the space for parts.
"Hey, so tell the truth am I yer first kiss nerd?" Stan asked smug smile spreading across his face at Fidds's confusion that coloring his cheeks red.
"Well I was married…"
Stan rested his hand on his shaking knee kissing him on the cheek wondering what was getting his little lover so stirred up.
"So I'm the best you ever got then? I'm sure yer first kiss was to a huge dork who didn't know what he was doing, right?"
His cheeks continued to darken, his fingers tightening around the neck of his banjo, teeth grinding on his bottom lip and blue eyes refusing to meet his. Stan kept his fingers firm on his knee to keep it from bruising knocking against his banjo like it was.
He didn't understand why Fidds was so anxious about this subject that was meant to be playful. He took a deep breath not wanting to pressure Fidds anymore and change the subject but Fidds had beaten him to the punch and practically whispered what was on his mind that made a new, indescribable and strange feeling begin forming inside him.
"Stanford, m-ma first kiss was to Stanford…"
"My…brother…?"
"Please don't be mad, Stanly, it was a very long time ago! We were young and in college and thought we would be together forever but things changed. Ford disappeared from my life for a few years after his grant and I got married."
Stan couldn't find any words to say to that, he just sat in the silence and held down Fidds knees to keep them still. He didn't say anything else about it nor did he the next time he saw the two of them close together. Ford sitting by Fidds's sick bed after he was attacked by the gremloblin and being more gentle with him then he ever thought his brother was capable of.
He had been trying to drown this feeling that Fidds deep down only thought of him as a replacement for his brother and one day he would want the original, bona fide version and not the sweaty smellier version of him but it just stayed in the back of his mind festering and growing each time he noticed how much chemistry the two really had.
Two nerds who worked like a team and knew each other inside out, where did Stan fit into this equation?
He came out of his long shower to find Fidds curled on his side of the bed, almost like he was waiting for him to return and he climbed back into bed and pulled him close. Savoring what could be one of the final times he breathed in his scent and curled himself tight around his lithe frame.
A few weeks before this little trip away from home, Fidds had accidentally called Stan 'Stanford'. Stan knew it wasn't on purpose to hurt him, his boyfriend hadn't slept in three days and the coffee fueling him was running on E.
He had noticed his mistake instantly and apologized profusely, blushing and finger curling around a strand of hair knowing just by Stan's stiff posture that he had struck a nerve. Stan was smart enough to know it would do no good for their relationship to start something up about nothing so he kept his silence.
He began planning this trip around that time, not wanting to completely lose someone who made him feel so alive again but it seemed fate was determined to break another relationship he was so content in. He couldn't lose that bright smile, he couldn't live without that concerned tone that always begged him not to do something stupid, he didn't want to go back to waking up alone and miserable in his car.
He ran his fingers gently through Fidds's fluffy hair and kissed him on the tip of his nose. He'd gotten lucky the last time he drove an ex-lover he was convinced was his soul mate's new man's car in a ravine, would he be this time?
The day was spent in the hotel room. The only thing worth noting to Fidds's was the wall Stan seemed to have built between himself and the rest of the world.
Breakfast and lunch were eaten in near silence at the restaurant they had all enjoyed and carried a pleasant atmosphere into the first day on their trip. None of them even looking up from their plates, Ford had brought the journal and occasionally mentioned his plans for the coming days but he was firmly ignored by Stan who seemed to be holding his tongue in the public setting if only for Fidds's sake. Fidds more picked at his meals rather than eating them, keeping one hand firmly on his bouncing knee in an effort to keep it still.
Fidds had initially felt like this trip was going to wash away the heavy tension that clouded over the three and cleanse it from their lives hopefully forever.
The hope that this trip could still turn around for the better laid dormant inside him creeping closer and closer to the surface as he sat at the desk in the room, the only member of their trio still awake after the hectic day yesterday proved to be, taping the curtains shut in his make shift dark room developing the photos from the trip thus far. He had already used up an entire roll in just one day but it was the most relaxing day the three had in quite some time.
As he worked on developing each photo piece by piece, dipping each picture into the solution gently before hanging it up to dry he felt like a soothing, relaxing aura had settled around him.
Despite the snag that occurred yesterday that lead into the negativity today, they still had time to connect to each other again on this trip and for things to just calm enough for them to be happy together again.
Ford's bright smile he felt he hadn't seen in so long glowing in the dark, not since the portal had started. His obsession with finishing it got worse with each passing day and he was slowly drowning in that stress.
If Fidds were honest, watching his oldest friend get this way was wearing him down and if Stan hadn't been by his side holding him above the surface with his love and support, he would have sunk under the waves of anxiety, fear and stress that clashed against him each day watching Ford's slow decline and his behaviors that kept getting odder and odder.
They all seemed to happen when Stan wasn't around, as if they stayed dormant until Fidds was alone with him. His fear for Ford may outweigh it but something deep down made him fear Ford the way he would sometimes go out of his way to demean or mock his work with that smile that was so…predatorily.
He turned his attention away from Ford's smiling face, setting his hand firmly on his knee to calm its rapid movement. He focused instead on Stan's smug grin, winking at him as he stole key chains from the gift shop as petty revenge for being caught grabbing the edges of the one of the famous pieces displayed getting in trouble with security.
Stan was his rock, always giving him the foundation he needed. It always felt like he and Ford were out of sync, his friend always brushing off his concern or outright ignoring it, Stan always just seemed to know. He could be insensitive but he was all hot air when it came to his tacky jokes and insults. He always knew what was too far and how to help Fidds regain his piece of mind.
An exhaustion was settling into his bones after working so long with only the white noise of the twins' snores, Ford stretched across the comfortable chair in the corner he had fought Stan over earlier and Stan finally having the bed to himself.
Fidds smiled laying down next to Stan who had fallen asleep in the middle of his soap opera. He snuggled as close to him as his sore body would allow and smiled brightly snapping a picture of them together.
To the man who held his heart and understood his fears and always stopped to listen to his concerns, he wanted as many pictures of them snuggled close together as humanly possible.