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After learning about Ford’s past, you knew there would be issues to work through regarding your relationship. It was nearing the middle of October when the honeymoon phase began to end and the problems started to occur. You had permanently moved into Ford’s room on the first floor and you slept together nearly every night in the beginning, but as the weeks went on, you found yourself alone in his bed more often than not.
You brought it up to him a couple of times but each time you asked, he’d talk about some project he was close to finishing, or dodge the question entirely. At first, it left your chest aching a little. Was he no longer interested in you? Had you been just another project to fixate on and then move on to something better? After three weeks of barely speaking outside of normal work conversations and sometimes sleeping in the same bed but never touching, your sadness grew into frustration. You started to ignore him too, but he didn’t seem to notice.
You knew that Ford was the type of man that you had to be direct with, but you were stubborn and didn’t feel like starting your first argument together. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea but as Ford had said to you in the past, “Humanity does not value rationality nor logic.”
You were sitting in the living room after a long day of categorizing mood-changing fungi and watching Ford tinker with some sort of gun in the room where the portal had been. It was nearly eleven and he was still down there. You sighed as you flipped through the channels, nothing really catching your eye.
“What’s wrong, kid?”
You looked up at Stan. He was holding two Pitts in his hand and you nodded your thanks as he passed one to you.
“It’s nothing really,” you huffed, cracking open the can.
Stan rolled his eyes, “If Ford’s being a dick you can tell me. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
You eyed Stan as he sat at the table next to the fish tank. He looked back, waiting for you to respond.
“It’s,” you started and sighed again, “I know he has a lot of… trauma but for the past few weeks, he’s been acting like he doesn’t want to be around me. He’s always working on something or too tired to even… do anything with me. I tried talking to him about it, but he just brushes it off.”
Stan swirled his can around for a moment and you could hear the pit rattling around inside.
“He’s always been like that,” Stan grumbled, “Thirty years of running around some hellhole dimension didn’t do that to him. I’ll talk to him, kid. Make him see what he’s doin’.”
You sat up quickly, “No. Please don’t do that. I don’t want him knowing I came to you with our relationship problems. He’ll just get pissed at both of us.”
“He’s an adult man. If he gets pissed at that, it’s his own damn problem,” Stan grumbled.
You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that, but I just don’t want to pile more stuff on top of it.”
“Fine,” Stan raised his hands, “I won’t say anything.”
You let out a breath and leaned back, “Thank you.”
“But I can say that I was the one who noticed it and then I can bring it up,” He grinned triumphantly before taking a large swig of his Pitt and coughing harshly. You watched a peach pit fall out of his mouth and hit the table.
“Shit, how do I always forget about those?”
You didn’t respond. After a while, you got up and put your own can on the table next to his, resigning yourself to go to bed alone yet again.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The lab was empty the next morning which was a first in all your months of employment. You went back upstairs to find that Stan and his car were missing too. You rubbed your hands over your face trying not to panic. Stan was talking to Ford and probably telling him to pay attention to you. That was a horrible idea. You paced around the house nervously for about twenty minutes before deciding that worrying wasn’t going to do anything and that you should just go back to categorizing fungi.
Two hours passed before you finally heard the elevator coming down to the lab. You prepared yourself for a barrage of questions and maybe some arguing but as you turned around you were surprised to find Stan, not Ford.
“Where did you take him and what the hell did you say?” you asked.
Stan leaned against a console in his usual suave, nonchalant way. That was the kind of look he’d give to customers. You narrowed your eyes and he frowned.
“I took him to Greasy’s and said that he needs to stop playing with his science toys and start talking to you,” Stan shrugged, “I said that if he actually liked you and wanted to keep a girl for longer than a week, he needed to pay attention to her.”
Your heart dropped, “And what did he say?”
“The usual, he denied everything, but he looked guilty. I think it worked.”
You got up and started to pace.
“Where is he now?” you asked, tiredly.
“I don’t know. We got here and he just walked into the woods. I swear I need to catch him and put him on display. He’s becoming his own kind of cryptid.”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you got up quickly, pulled on your jacket, and headed out to the woods.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The temperature wasn’t as bad as it had been last week. A light jacket and jeans were all you needed. As you got outside the Shack, your eyes immediately fell to the ground. Two sets of footprints lead away from the car. One pair of loafers towards the Shack and a pair of boots towards the woods behind it.
You huffed as you followed the boot prints until they met grass and eventually soft underbrush. Cautiously, you walked into the woods. The only anomalies around this part of the forest were some sparse Plaidypi. At least he had chosen a non-dangerous route to go brood in. It was nearing noon by the time you found the slow-moving creek he had brought you to months ago. That was before you had been together. He took you on a small tour of his favorite parts of the woods, it was the first time you had realized just how much you liked him. You shook the thought from your head as you walked downstream alongside the creek until you reached the clearing where you saw your first Plaidypus.
It was empty now, save for a few fallen trees covered in moss, and a few small boulders near the water. You sat down on one as you looked at the leaves above. They formed a kind of brilliant green canopy over your head, sunlight shining through in small blotches of warm yellow across the ground. You’d come here to read or draw before but it had been months. Now it was too cold to spend too long out here. You huffed in frustration and pulled out your phone to call Stan before you heard a twig snap and you looked up. Ford said your name in a questioning tone.
“What are you doing out here?”
You pushed your phone back into your pocket, “Looking for you.”
He sat across the clearing on a fallen tree and clasped his hands. He looked embarrassed and slightly angry at the same time. It was an odd look on him.
“I…” he trailed off and looked out to the creek, “Stan took me out for breakfast and we talked about… my recent behavior.”
You sighed, “I told him not to talk to you about it, but I couldn’t seem to get through to you.”
Ford nodded, his gaze suddenly stoic, “I understand that things will be ending now. If you’d like to continue the resea-“
“What?”
He looked at you, “You’re done with me, I presumed. I was going to say-“
“I’m not done with you.”
Ford looked stunned for a moment before sputtering out, “Then why-“
“What did Stan say exactly?” you asked.
“He gave me a frankly wise speech about how you’d break up with me if I kept ignoring you. I said I wasn’t ignoring you and that things were going great, but he disagreed. He told me that I was losing you.”
You groaned and got up, starting to pace.
“You are both complete idiots,” you replied, “I didn’t say I was going to ‘break up with you’ and you HAVE been ignoring me, Ford. I don’t want to end things with you, shit, they’ve barely begun. I just wanted to talk to you because you’ve been so distant lately. Maybe I’ve been an idiot too because I thought if I also ignored you then maybe you’d notice but that was a dumb idea.”
He watched you as you rambled, his eyes heavy. Eventually, you stopped and turned to the water, you could hear him stand up and a moment later he stood next to you. Looking down into the water, you could see both of your reflections morphing and rippling in the running stream.
“I’ve been ignoring you?” he muttered.
You looked at his reflection, “When was the last time you kissed me, Ford? When was the last time we had a conversation outside of what kind of metal would be best for your latest project?”
He turned to face you, “I thought…” he trailed off and sighed, “I don’t know what I was thinking actually.”
“I’m not high maintenance,” you muttered, “But I do require some.”
He leaned in, his lips searching for yours but you stepped back. He still looked confused.
“That’s not the way to fix it,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.
“Then what is?”
His voice sounded slightly broken and your chest tightened. You finally looked at him and shook your head.
“You like puzzles,” you muttered, “figure it out.”
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The next morning, you awoke in your old bedroom. You turned to get out of bed but a paper on your nightstand caught your attention. You cautiously picked it up.
You wanted to be annoyed, but the note reminded you of the morning after you had first slept together and something pulled in your chest. You found yourself smiling despite the cryptic wording and decided to sleep for another hour.
After you got up for the second time, you showered and got dressed, deciding to ask Stan to borrow the car to drive into town for lunch. Stan agreed a little too happily and you realized Ford probably had another “conversation” with him.
You found yourself at a pizza place on Main Street and sat quietly as you ate. You were curious to see what Ford had meant by “solving the puzzle”, but you ate quickly regardless, anxious to get back to the lab.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The elevator doors opened and your brow furrowed as you walked in. Ford was hunched over his desk with various books scattered across it, a cup and an entire coffee pot sat atop them.
“Uh, Ford?”
He turned around with a bright smile on his face.
“Hello, my dear,” he beamed, “I’ve figured it out.”
“What’s your solution?” you eyed the nearly empty coffee pot.
“I went to the local library this morning and checked out a couple of books on couples counseling.”
“Couples counseling?” you asked, incredulously.
He nodded, “I read about three and a half of them and I figured it out. I-“
“You read three? All this morning?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Of course, you’re a speed reader,” you sat at your desk, “Continue.”
“I’ve planned a date.”
“A date?”
“Yes, are you feeling alright?”
You laughed lightly, “I feel great, please say what you were going to say.”
“My research has concluded that I need to initiate more romantic gestures between the two of us. I’ve catalogued the majority of our intimate encounters and the data suggests that you have been the instigator for the vast majority. The books said that a relationship must reside in a state of equilibrium to function correctly, so I concluded that I must maintain my side of the balance for our relationship to be fulfilling.”
You stared at him for a moment and glanced at the books, “You read three books, made a pie chart, and drank an entire pot of coffee to realize that all you have to do is show me affection?”
He looked taken aback, “A lot of work went into this.”
You tried not to grin but you failed, “Your conclusion was correct. I should’ve figured you’d turn this into a logic problem.”
He smiled back at you. For the first time in weeks, he smiled back at you and all it took was copious amounts of research to learn common sense. It was entirely too endearing.
“Would you like to hear my idea for our date?” he seemed giddy and you nodded, reaching for his cup of coffee.
“This weekend, we’ll go to the movie theater and see a romantic film, after which I’ll take us to a nice restaurant where we can discuss said film. We’ll conclude by going to the cliff overlooking the Falls and having an intimate encounter inside the car. How does that sound?”
You laughed, “Like something out of the 50s,” you put his mug back, “It sounds very romantic, but do you actually want to do any of that stuff?”
He considered for a moment, “I thought you would.”
“I’d maybe like the movie,” you shrugged, “but going to a fancy place and then fucking in the back of Stan’s car doesn’t sound like something either of us would enjoy.”
He hummed, “The books also said that finding common ground was an important pillar of a healthy partnership,” he reached for your hand and you let him take it, “Where would you like to go?”
“Was physical contact also in the books?” you raised your entwined hands.
He nodded and you laughed.
“I’d go see a movie, but how about we have a picnic or something out in that clearing by the stream? We both like the outdoors and avoiding people.”
He released a breath and looked up at you.
“Frankly, that sounds much better than what I suggested.”
You let his hand go and walked over to him. Ford spread his legs and you walked between them, cupping his face in your hands.
“I’m very invested in you,” you muttered, running a hand through his hair, “And I’m thankful you came to your… conclusions.”
He smiled and rested his hand on yours.
“I know a lot of things,” he muttered, “It’s hard for me to admit when I don’t understand something.”
You nodded, “I know,” you slowly leaned down and kissed him, letting it linger long enough that when you pulled back, his eyes were still closed.
“Saturday at four,” you said, “Then we can have a picnic at sunset.”
He grinned, “That is very romantic.”
You shrugged, “I’ve read up on some stuff too.”
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
You hadn’t planned on dressing up, but after looking at yourself in the mirror, you decided that jeans didn’t feel right. Ford had actually planned a date by himself. It was the bare minimum, but it was a start. You pulled off your jeans and slipped into something a little nicer, turning in the mirror to make sure you looked alright. You grinned, you looked great.
At a quarter to four, you walked out into the parking lot to find Stan and Ford arguing beside the car.
“I explicitly stated that I needed the car at 3:45 on Saturday afternoon for my date,” Ford said.
Stan huffed and threw up his hands, “You told me that after I already had plans.”
“What plans do you have exactly?”
“Just drop us off,” you interrupted.
They both turned to look at you and you smiled tightly back. Your gaze found Ford’s and you felt your chest tighten as you saw what he was wearing. It was obvious that he had raided Stan’s closet for something other than a sweater vest or a turtleneck.
He wore a steel blue button-up with lapels so big that it made you think that the shirt was older than you. He had the top button undone and it revealed just the slightest beginning of a scar and some chest hair. His pants were dark, pressed slacks that also seemed a little out of date, but they fit him in all the right places.
Ford stared wide-eyed at you, “You look… radiant.”
You felt your cheeks heat and nodded, “You look pretty radiant yourself.”
“Jesus, enough with the sap show. Can I just drop you two off and pick you up or are we going to keep yelling at each other?” Stan grumbled.
You looked at Ford as he sighed.
“Sure, Stanley.”
You sat in the passenger seat as you watched Stan demand to drive. After another minute of muffled yelling through the car door, Stan slid in beside you and Ford sat in the backseat. You looked back at him and gave him a small smile which he returned with a look of defeat. You tried not to laugh as Stan peeled out of the parking lot.
You picked a good time to come because, for some reason, the Gravity Falls Theater had a showing of “Tron: Legacy”.
“They made another one of these?” Ford asked as you paid for the tickets.
You nodded, “I liked it when I saw it, and I figured you’d like it cause it was sci-fi.”
“I saw the original in theaters. God, that must’ve been over thirty years ago.”
It was easy to forget how old Ford really was sometimes. He had the energy and physique of someone much younger, but when he would point out that he had no idea what you meant by “CGI”, you remembered the age difference.
“If you liked the special FX in the original, you’ll be blown away by 2010s FX,” you joked.
The movie was loud and dark, and occasionally Ford would lean over to ask you a question. During the span of the movie, you had to explain what dubstep was and how digital de-aging worked. About halfway through, you felt six fingers reach blindly for yours. You smiled and intertwined your hands. It felt sort of odd to hold his hand, but not in a bad way. You just always felt sorry for the finger that got left out.
“That was incredible,” Ford exclaimed as you left the theater. The sun was just starting to set in the sky and you pulled your jacket tighter around you.
“I can’t believe the jump in graphics they’ve managed to make in only thirty years,” he said.
You nodded in agreement, “Jeff Bridges still looked creepy though.”
“Oh, he absolutely did.”
You both laughed as you saw Stan pull up in his shining red El Diablo. He rolled down the window.
“Come on knuckleheads, I got some more stuff to take care of.”
You got back in the car and settled in. Things were starting to feel normal again and the feelings that had defined the first few weeks of your relationship had come flooding back. You caught Ford’s eyes in the side mirror a few times, each time making him look away and flush. You missed when his face would turn pink at just the sight of you, you hoped you could make it turn red later on in the night.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The clearing was beautiful at sunset. Shades of orange and yellow shot through the trees in beams, creating a soft glow on the ground around you.
“While yes, technically, those crimes are under my name, I did not commit them,” Ford concluded.
You laughed, “What are you going to do about the whole ‘you and Stan sharing the same identity’ thing?”
“It hasn’t caused us trouble yet and I fear that if we do look into it, more problems will occur.”
You nodded and laid back. Your measly dinner of sandwiches and water bottles lay half-eaten in your bag. It was starting to get a little colder as the sun went down and you pulled Ford down to lay next to you. He was still wearing just his dress shirt and pants. You wrapped your coat tighter around you.
“You wear sweaters in the Summer and a light blouse in the winter, how do you live like that?”
“This isn’t a blouse.”
You scoffed, “Ok, a very pretty shirt.”
“I’ve had to survive a lot of harsh conditions,” Ford sighed, “I guess my body has become acclimated to anything.”
He told you bits and pieces of what happened during his thirty years in the portal, but you never pried. He seemed more angry about it than anything. You had seen him angry. Angry at Stan, at a failed experiment, at literal unicorns, but never angry at his past. Things were going well again, you didn’t want to mess it up.
“Thank you for doing all that research,” you sighed. Ford turned to look at you.
“I enjoy researching things and I enjoy time spent with you,” he smiled, “It was a win-win situation.”
You reached for his hand again, but instead, he pulled you until you were tucked into his side.
“Are you ‘maintaining the equilibrium’ by ‘initiating physical contact’?” You laughed.
Ford chuckled, “I guess I am.”
Your eyes met for a second and you glanced briefly down at his lips. For the first time in a long time, he kissed you deeply. In the privacy of the forest, between the redwoods and the cedars, his hands wrapped themselves in your hair and you grinned into the kiss.
Ford moaned softly as you returned the favor by scratching your nails down his chest. He pulled back gently.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed this,” he said.
“I’ll make sure you remember,” you replied quickly, diving back in.
The beams of light were fading fast between the trees and the forest started to turn dark green again. You shivered, but Ford pulled you closer, enveloping you in his arms. After a couple of minutes of soft yet insistent kissing, you sat up and cornered him against a fallen tree, straddling his lap and kissing him again. His broad hands found your hips and he began to move you, grinding your hips against him.
“What’s gotten into you?” you kissed him again, “Taking charge?”
He nodded but didn’t respond, instead tightening his grip and grinding you down harder. It sent chills up your spine, the easy way he could move you at will. You knew he was strong, you had seen him break a bedpost for god’s sake, but having him manhandle you… you groaned as he pulled you down harder.
“You take care of me every time,” he bit at your neck, just a shade of being too hard, “let me take care of you.”
You couldn’t form words. His eyes were dark in the sparse moonlight falling through the trees, but you could see his cheeks were still red. He was nervous. You nodded softly and he picked you up.
“Christ,” you muttered as he turned around and set you on the fallen log, leaving your feet just barely skimming the ground.
You opened your legs and he stepped between them, leaning down and holding your back as he went back to kissing you. It was quickly turning rough, his teeth clacked against yours, and your tongues fought one another. You fumbled blindly, reaching for his belt. You couldn’t find it and as you looked down, you realized it was already in his hands.
“Beat you to it,” he grinned.
You were already undoing his fly, “I was distracted.”
Your hand cupped the tent in his boxers and he keened forward, still holding you upright on the log. You slipped your hand inside and started to work his quickly hardening cock. He stuttered for a second before regaining his composure and reaching into your pants as well.
You stayed like that for a few minutes, fumbling at each other blindly as his teeth went back to your neck. You leaned your head to the side, giving him better access. You felt like a teenager again, messing around far away from anyone and anything. The only thing on your mind was the pleasure you were giving and receiving, but you weren’t two messy teenagers. He grunted in your ear as you twisted your hand at the head of his cock. He was real and here and now.
Ford roughly pulled your pants down until they were around your knees.
“I’m going to have moss in my ass,” you laughed. He either didn’t hear you or was consumed by lust as he reached down and inserted a finger into you in one swift motion.
“Fuck,” your head fell back and your grip loosened on his cock, but he kept going. He quickly added another finger, his pace never slowing. You could barely hold in your moans. Ford was biting and sucking his way down your neck, his other hand now under your shirt and playing with your nipples. The pleasure was too much, it blinded you. When his thumb found your clit and began to circle it, you were already on the edge.
“For-,” his name died on your tongue as you came harder than you ever had in your life, your vision blacking out for a moment and your breath stopping.
There was a ringing in your ears as you opened your eyes again and gently pushed his hand away, your body already overly sensitive.
“And where did that come from?” You gasped, looking up at him. He looked hazy.
“One of those books may have been about the female orgasm,” he replied.
You shook your head but you were grinning, “You just love to learn, huh?”
“I love to research.”
“I know you do,” you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was still hard and you glanced between you, “How do you want me to handle that?”
He considered a moment and if it weren’t for your pleasure-numbed state of mind you might’ve giggled at the look. Ford didn’t answer, instead picking you up off the tree, turning you around, and bending you over it. You gasped as you felt his hand search for your entrance. You had never had sex in that position with him before, not that you hadn’t thought about it.
You looked over your shoulder. Ford was breathing short and quick, you could practically feel the keyed-up energy coming off of him.
“Do you like seeing me like this?” you grinned back at him, lifting your hips a little to help him, “Bent over just for you?”
He nodded frantically, “I like the sight of you beneath me just as much as the sight of you on top.”
Without warning, his cock found its place and he pushed in until your hips were flush. Your breath was knocked out of you as he settled into place with a groan and a slight twitch of his hips. You missed the feeling of him filling you. He fit in all the right places inside of you and you could tell by the noises he was making, that Ford felt the same.
“I’m not going to last,” he bent over and covered your back, his hands bracketing yours on the trunk.
“Then fuck me fast,” you whispered back.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Ford pulled out almost completely before pushing back in HARD.
“F-Fuck,” but your words were lost to the woods.
Ford set a nearly brutal pace, fucking you harder than he ever had before. Each thrust of his hips sent you scooting forward a little bit until eventually, you had to back up again. It felt incredible. His hands now covering yours, squeezing his fingers around your own as he pummeled into you. His breath came out in pinched-off groans in your ear. You tried to fuck backward and meet his pace, but you felt a strong hand on your ass stop you from moving and you lay there.
It felt like hours and minutes all at once. Ford whispering your name in your ear as he fucked you hard and fast. Dirty praise fell from his lips telling you how much tighter you felt in this position, how warm you were under him, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was cataloging the information. You spoke back to him as best you could. Each thrust knocked the air from your lungs but you still managed to thank him for the date, for the fucking, for everything.
His thrusts started to get more frantic and the near-perfect rhythm faltered. Your words quickly changed from ones of thanks to ones of praise.
“You- you feel so big,” you said, “So good, Ford. So- fucking good. Please. You- You’re doing s-so well.”
His hips faltered and he tightened his grip around you as he pulled out quickly and came on your lower back. Your heart stopped but you let out a sigh of relief.
“Thank god you did that,” you smiled lazily, turning around, “I completely forgot to bring condoms.”
Ford was still breathing hard as he tucked himself back into his slacks, “Did you plan on us fornicating in the woods? For me, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
You laughed and reached for a napkin in your bag, “Please never refer to us fucking as ‘fornicating’.”
“Not sexy?” he huffed.
“No, not quite.”
He nodded and took the napkin from you, wiping his semen from your back. You hummed as he did it and when he finished, he placed a soft kiss on the back of your neck. There was the Ford you knew. The one that turned into a pure sap after coming.
“For future reference,” you pulled up your pants, “all our problems cannot be resolved with sex.”
He nodded, “I understand.”
“But it definitely helps,” you grinned. Ford grinned too and pulled you until your chests were flush with one another.
“Thank you for being so patient with me,” he said, “I’m learning a lot of new ideas, technology, and history all at once. So thank you for recommending I learn how to properly date someone I’m very interested in too.”
“Very interested?” you raised your eyebrows and Ford flushed.
“After what has just occurred, I thought it to be pretty obvious.”
You pulled him down to kiss you. He froze for a moment before melting into you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
“Was that obvious enough?” you replied.
He nodded and you smiled.
Every relationship would have its rough patches, you knew that, but with Ford, the rough patches somehow felt easier. It wasn’t that he was hiding his emotions, it was that he wasn’t fully recognizing them. Sure, it would be a long process to help him understand himself better, but you wanted to be the one to help. He made you happy. You wanted to show him to be too.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.
The next morning you woke up late in Ford’s bed. You knew he had already been on his run and was probably down in the lab by now but as you rolled over, you were surprised to find him next to you, still sleeping.
You were confused for a moment before smiling and running a hand through his hair. His eyes shot open and he sat up straight. You slinked back against the wall.
“Wh-,” he looked at you, “Oh, sorry, my dear.”
He reached for his glasses and yawned.
“It’s been a while since I haven’t had to wake up ready for anything.”
“You’re safe now,” you murmured, laying back down. You watched him look over you, his eyes tracing the curves of your figure and finally landing on your face.
He smiled and leaned over your body.
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
He kissed you slowly and you too smiled into it.