WEEK 4

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Tadashi, Sophie, and Princess Anna are dead. By now, maybe you're realizing that this plays is way more dangerous than you have ever feared, but don't worry, maybe some hope will come along the way.

For example, if anyone tries to open the Conservatory Door leading outside starting this week, they'll find that they finally have access to the graveyard and outside. You are now freely able to leave the mansion whenever you want.

Maybe you can all finally leave this place...?

20 guests remain.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

 

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Comments

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford chuckles, not moving away from Fiddleford's jaw as he does, slowly working his way toward his neck.]

A couple years.

[Fiddleford is absolutely right, though. Ford's never in his life let something like his age get in his way. His mouth finds Fiddleford's pulse, and he noses into it affectionately before resuming his kisses. He may or may not have a plan.]

[terribibble]

You... look, I'm not flatterin' when I say you've aged... I mean the years treated you nice is all.

[He could have said that in a lot less words and with a lot less breathless pauses but, you see, someone is kissing his neck.]

[sixfingeredstan]

[It's okay, Fiddleford. You can say it, he's aged like a prime cut of dry-aged USDA angus beef. He laughs again, but it's more distracted this time, because he's started in with the open-mouthed kisses, six fingers threading through Fiddleford's hair. He may or may not be intent on sucking out a nice big mark on his neck, because...hell. The last time they did this, they were teenagers. Why not have a little fun like that while they can?]

[terribibble]

[Oh. Oh.

One of his hands lifts to rest on Ford's chest. The other snakes around his back. He needs support right now, okay. Between the rum and this he's practically burning up. His throat bobs under Ford's mouth as he swallows the breath that caught there. Like teenagers, indeed. But Ford Pines doesn't do anything halfway, he knows that, so he ought to have expected that if Ford Pines was going to kiss him he was going to do it right.]

You -- you're gonna leave a mark --

[It's a weak protest at best. He doesn't want Ford to stop. If he did Ford would know.]

[sixfingeredstan]

[That's right. Touch the tiddy. Treat yo'self.

Ford lets the hand that isn't in his hair snaked around Fiddleford's waist, holding him firm and secure. You know. For support. He lets out a small 'mmhmm,' only pulling back for a moment:]

Very astute.

[Before he goes right back to work.]

[terribibble]

[God dammit, Ford, if he has to walk around this house desperately hoping nobody notices the huge hickey on his neck it'll be all your fault.]

You ass.

[He doesn't mean it. There's a little bit of a laugh in his voice, even. This whole thing is just... it's surreal. If you'd told him just twenty-four hours ago this is where he'd be right now he'd have shut down and needed a reboot. And yet, here is.]

[sixfingeredstan]

I don't—see you—complaining—

[He's clearly gotten a lot of practice at this. When he's satisfied, he pulls back to admire that nice, big, purple mark he's managed to suck out on Fiddleford's neck. Yeah, he's still got it.

He presses another kiss to his mouth before pulling away.]

I'll let you return the favor sometime, if you like.

[terribibble]

Sometime. Not... maybe not tonight.

[It's already been a long, long day. He's just about hit his quota for emotions in general, be they good or bad ones. Baby steps, right? This is good for a first try at... at whatever it is they're cultivating between them now.]

That offer to walk me to my room still open?

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford grins, despite himself. He's suddenly very tired, but he's on top of the world, emotions-wise.]

Of course. Rain check.

[He gentle disentangles himself from Fiddleford and pushes himself to his feet with a few creaks of protest from his knees. Then he holds out a hand to help Fiddleford up.]

Absolutely.

[terribibble]

[Fiddleford takes that hand, standing with a few creaks and pops of his own. He's not nearly as old as Ford but goodness is he tired, and he also doesn't take care of his body with anywhere near the same level of attentiveness.

It's bolstering that Ford doesn't push things -- not that he thought Ford would in this sort of situation, but it reinforces his decision to trust Ford all the same.]

Thanks. I know I say this just about every day but I'm ready to sleep for a week.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Once Fiddleford is on his feet, Ford sort of just...keeps holding his hand. Just for now. While they're still alone.]

You deserve to. You need your rest.

[Especially after a night like tonight.

On impulse, Ford leans forward to drop a kiss on Fiddleford's temple. He could kiss this man for days and never get bored, he's pretty sure. But he'll hold off on that.

Reluctantly, he drops his hand.]

Come on. Off to bed with you.

[terribibble]

I'm goin'.

[It takes him a moment to actually turn and open the door, though. This has been nice, and he knows once he steps back out into the hall he'll have to put space between them again. And that's good. That's fine. He needs a little space to digest everything that's just happened.

But he can't deny he likes holding Ford's hand and he's sad to lose it.

It's a short and yet also unimaginably long walk across the hall to his room, and he lingers at that door too.]

... I'll see you tomorrow?

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford knows the feeling. And he knows how hard it's going to be to act like normal around the others. To act like friends. It's going to be very difficult, but he'll do it, because he needs to make sure that Fiddleford is okay. Isn't uncomfortable. So he'll try his damnedest to remember. Lord knows he'll probably fuck something up at some point, but the point is he's trying to care about someone's needs other than his own. It's his new thing.

Ford pauses outside Fiddleford's door, and his heart wrenches a little.]

Of course you will. We could...have breakfast. If you wanted. Even if it's just coffee.

[terribibble]

Yeah. That'd be... I'd like that.

[This will work. This can be nice. It'll take a little getting used to, but after everything else they've dealt with here... well. This can't be any harder, right?]

G'night, Stanford.

[sixfingeredstan]

[It's nice...having something to look forward to in the morning. Something to hope for. Maybe he'll have a decent night's sleep tonight.

Ford's hand brushes softly against Fiddleford's, just the briefest touch, and he smiles.]

Goodnight, Fiddleford....sweet dreams.