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His hands fumbling for his mug, Ford’s heart sank when he realised he had finished his coffee. It couldn’t have been long since he refilled the mug… it was 11:20pm…? 11:35pm…? Ford pulled up his sleeve and checked his watch. 1:28am. Oh. Right. Time must have slipped away from him. Ford yawned. It was time to emerge for more coffee. Scooping up his research, he shoved it in an empty compartment, and locked it, before stumbling, half-asleep, towards the elevator.
There was an eery quiet to the Mystery Shack at night — not silent, but quiet enough to keep a paranoid man on edge. Each creak of the floorboards was amplified by the lack of loud, overbearing crowds of tourists in the ‘shop’, and the twins running about behind the scenes, filling the shack with a refreshing youthfulness, absent thirty years before. As much as Ford despised the changes to his ‘home’, it wouldn’t have felt like a ‘home’ if it was silent. Ford sighed. His eyes darting around for any intruders, he scooped some instant coffee into his mug, and boiled the water. It felt… weird to be in the kitchen alone. It was cold and dark and the absence of Stanley arguing with him was unsettling. He almost wanted his brother to barge in and shout at him so that Ford could fill the silent void with some life.
There was a time when the shack was consumed by music. Fiddleford’s fingers kept busy with his banjo, occasionally dabbling with percussion and his brother’s old fiddle, the stereo in the basement was a constant in the background, and their vinyls took pride of place in the lounge beside the turntable they built at Backupsmore. If the kids weren’t asleep, Ford would have found a stereo and listened to whatever folks listened to in this day and age, not because he fancied humming along to a tune, but so that he try to recreate the atmosphere which once was, so that he could feel Fiddleford’s passion and love…
The kettle tinged, signifying the end of its boil. Ford yawned as he poured the steaming water into his mug, and mixed it into the powdered coffee. Every time his eyes disobeyed him and flickered shut, Ford imagined F pulling his arm, and forcing him to dance. To have F back in his arms… to feel his breath against his skin, to smell and to taste him… it was everything Ford’s heart fought for the rights to desire. God, he missed his F. He missed him so very much. It was pathetic, really, after all he’d been through, but he couldn’t help it. He was an old, lonely man, after all, and broken people yearned to be mended.
Ford flinched at the sudden sounds of footsteps, only relaxing his form at the sight of Stanley in a sleeveless top and boxer shorts. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” He grumbled, reaching over the counter to grab the packet of coffee, and pouring the leftover water, that his brother boiled, in his own mug. “You look like shit.”
“Thank you, Stanley.” Ford replied, dryly. He brought the mug to his lips, flinching as the liquid burned his tongue.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
Ford dropped his head with a sigh. “You know I haven’t slept well since… since I returned.” He physically cringed at his wording as he spoke. “What else is there to say?”
Stan shrugged. “I dunno, you’re the smart one in the family, but I… well, it just… looked like you were lost in thought, that’s all…”
“I…” Ford shuddered as he breathed out. “No, no, you’re right, I… I have been thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
Ford made a small, sharp scoff as he brought his mug back to his lips. He gulped down some of the hot liquid, before lowing his mug, and meeting his brother’s eyes. “I wasn’t entirely alone when carrying out my research in Gravity Falls.” He admitted, quietly ; his fingers nervously tapping against his mug.
Raising an eyebrow at him, Stanley waited for his brother to continue.
Ford dropped his head with another sigh. “My roommate at Backupsmore had a mind wired for mechanics, so I sought out his genius to build the portal. He became my assistant and we worked well together, coinciding inside the shack until there was an accident, which shook him deeply. It… left mental scars, and I… I wasn’t exactly in a healthy headspace myself to heal them. I let him leave, although I’ve always wondered what happened to him. Fiddleford Hadron McGucket was his name. I was… hoping you would have heard of him or from him in the last thirty years…?”
A flash of recognition flickered across Stanley’s eyes, before his expression was overwhelmed by a guilt he failed to hide. “I’m sorry, sixer. ‘Never heard of the nerd.”
“If that was the case, you would look me in the eyes.” Ford pointed out, pushing down his nerves with a small sip of coffee. It couldn’t be good if Stanley was struggling to lie… his poor F… what had his beloved done to himself whilst he was gone…?
“Fine.” Stan sighed, sharply. “I— I know ‘of him’, yeah, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you talk.”
Ford clenched his jaw. “Why ever not? It would mean a great deal to me if we could reunite and—“
“Ford, please.” Stan sighed, pinching his forehead as his frustration built across his features. “I know you don’t trust me, and yeah, that’s fair and all, considering what you’ve been through, but a lot has happened in Gravity Falls in the last thirty years, and especially this summer. The man you think you remember won’t be the man you find. It’s better that you don’t speak… for both of your sakes. Just… trust my judgment on this one. I have been playin’ you for the last thirty years, after all. The worst you can do to yourself is run around town asking for him.”
Ford sighed. “Fine.” He mumbled ; his fingers crossed beneath the table.
“Good.” Stan grumbled back, not noticing his brother’s lie, as he downed his own coffee. “Go to bed, sixer.”
Ford had never been good at listening to his brother. He wasn’t going to stop, now.
…
Fiddleford lived in Gravity Falls. It was the only logical explanation to why Stanley would react in that way. Why he hadn’t returned to California was beyond Ford, but it did make reuniting and apologising easier. There was no time to lose. With his brother occupied with tourists and the kids out with their friends, Ford slipped out of his lab the following morning, and journeyed to town.
He asked around the streets for a ‘Fiddleford McGucket’ for no success, until a stranger pointed towards the junkyard and claimed ‘Old Man McGucket’ would be there. Maybe F was scavenging for parts for a new invention? That sounded about right. His lover had never been one to be wasteful. Ford wondered what he was working on. Had F restarted ‘Fiddleford Computermajigs’ or was this a new business venture? Ford couldn’t wait to learn everything about it…
…until he wasn’t. Ford entered the junkyard, passing the stacked cars as he coughed from an awful stench, and approached the hunched figure known by ‘Old Man McGucket’. Coated in dirt and grime, and littered in cuts and bruises, the man he once loved had been replaced with a disturbing exterior. His teeth crooked and missing, nose pink, and white beard stopping at his feet, he wore bandages for shoes, brown overalls, and a scarecrow’s hat. Stanley was right. This wasn’t his Fiddleford. This was an imposter.
Their eyes met and Imposter F’s features froze. He gulped, his hands shaking, as he opened his mouth to speak. “You’re the… th-the author…?” His voice broke.
“Yes.” Ford frowned, a mix of guilt and disgust twisting in his stomach. “That is correct.”
“The kiddos are helping me regain my memory.” His voice cracked as he scratched his head, almost as if remembering hurt him. “The memory erasing gun I created after the gremloblin, I… I kept using it.”
Ford gulped. “I know.” He whispered, wishing this was a dimension, where the ground could swallow him whole. He remembered how F became addicted to the feeling of using that gun. It became a drug to him. It was silly to have assumed he would stop using it after the ‘Portal Incident’. It was Ford’s fault. He was the reason his Fiddleford kept seeing such frightful things. If he hadn’t invited him to Gravity Falls, he wouldn’t have created the gun and become…
“I used it to forget you, but I….” The old man gulped as silent tears rolled down his filthy cheeks. “I remember the feeling of loving you… and of you loving me…”
Ford’s breath hitched. “You… you remember…” He trailed off, his eyes wide and his face pale with shock. Despite fucking up his mind, F was still in there somehow? He hadn’t forgotten their love? He felt their love? Ford wanted to cry.
“Should I have not?” He hugged himself and his lips made a small, vulnerable smile.
“No.” Ford sighed. “I’m… I’m glad you didn’t.” He gulped, fiddling with his sleeves. “I fell through the portal.” He admitted, quietly, his chest tightening, and a shiver travelling down his spine as he remembered what was on the other side. “As I traveled through the multiverse, I met several versions of you, but they weren’t you. They weren’t my F. I had to get home to you. Let me take you home?” He begged, wanting nothing more than to hold his F once more.
Sniffling, Fiddleford’s tearful eyes met Ford’s, and he nodded.
…
The beard was the first to go. Not wanting to catch a disease, Ford wore plastic gloves to touch it. They sat on the bathroom floor as Ford, slowly and carefully, used scissors to snip away at the thick, long bush. Once the floor was coated in white, Ford found Stanley’s razor and gave F’s face a handsome trim, leaving only a small moustache and a thin stubble. Then, he ran a bath, and swept up, as F soaked beneath the bubbles.
“Feeling okay, my love?” Ford asked, realising F had been quiet for a long while. He grabbed a new sponge, and knelt down beside him. “Don’t feel guilty if you’re overwhelmed. We can stop. Talk to me.”
“The bath’s… lovely, darlin’.” He whispered, dropping his head. “It’s…” He gulped. “I… I-I haven’t been touched for… for a long, long time…”
Ford’s heart shattered. “Well, you’re home, now.” His voiced cracked as he reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’m back and I don’t plan on leaving, again. I won’t go anywhere, without you.” He laved the sponge, gently rubbing his forehead and cheeks. “You kept me going, the thought of you and Stanley…” Ford pressed a soft kiss against F’s forehead. “I couldn’t die without seeing you again. I’m… I’m not really alive if I don’t have you.” He admitted, quietly, and wetted the sponge. He rubbed F’s shoulders, then his back, chest, arms, and legs. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for everything…”
“I forgive you.” F whispered. “I spent thirty years forgetting. I don’t want to run away, anymore.”
“We’ll get your memories back.” Ford murmured, reaching out, and gently massaging his shoulders. “I know my F is still in there. I can see him in your eyes.”
Leaning forwards, F wrapped his arms around Ford’s shoulders, and pulled him in for a kiss. Ford closed his eyes, relaxing into the sensation of their lips touching once again. It felt like aeons, before they pulled away.
Ford couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you.” He smiled.
“I love you, too, darlin’.” F beamed back, leaning in for a second round.
Ford happily reciprocated, cupping F’s cheeks, and keeping their lips pressed together. His chest filled with a warm, fluffy feeling, that was overwhelming to feel after so many years without it…
Then F pulled away.
Ford frowned, confused to why F’s eyes were growing wide and his breath was hitching, until he turned his head, and noticed Stanley at the door with a magazine under his arm. Well ‘fuck’. That… certainly wasn’t good.
Stanley snapped himself out of his shocked phase and fled.
“Stanley!” Ford huffed. He jumped up from the floor, chasing his brother down the stairs, and into the kitchen. “Come back! I can— I can explain, I— well—“ He stumbled, running his twelve fingers through his hair.
“What’s there to explain?” Stan scrunched up this face, his nose twitching with disgust, as he smacked his magazine on the table. “You two were sucking each other’s faces off! At least lock the door! Nobody wants to see that!”
Ford clenched his jaw. “Why? Because I’m queer?” He spat. “‘Worried you’re going to ‘catch’ it—“
“No!” Stan exclaimed. “Of course not! I’m not Dad!”
“Then why did y—“
“You’re my brother! Watching my brother make out with anybody would be gross! I don’t give a fuck that you’re gay! I’d be a hypocrite if I did ‘cause I’m bi, you dumbass!”
Ford paused. Frowning, his body relaxed, and he raised an eyebrow at him. “Bi?”
“Bisexual.” Stanley confirmed, crossing his arms. “I prefer chicks, but men can be hot, too. I just like sex. The parts don’t really matter to me.”
Bisexual, huh? “I never… I never noticed…” Ford murmured, softly.
“Figured it out on the run.” Stan shrugged. “‘Met a lot of different people, who helped me learn about myself. I didn’t know about you, either… ‘thought you were uninterested in women and awkward about sex because you were a nerd. ‘Assumed you’d grow out of it in the end.”
“Oh, I’m still awkward about the sex.” Ford offered a wary smile. “I didn’t enjoy it. Fiddleford and I… experimented… in college, but decided against it. To be honest, I’ve never understood the desire of sexual intercourse further than the natural need to reproduce.”
Stanley hummed. “‘Chatted up a guy like that once. It’s got a name.”
“It has?” Ford frowned. “I’m not…”
“Broken? Nah. You’re a weird fucking guy, and you have your quirks, but that’s not one of them. You can’t change who or how you love. You were born that way.”
Ford gulped. Stan was being… nice to him? Hah. Well, that was a change. “Thank you, Stanley.” He replied, quietly.
Stan smirked. “So… McGucket, huh…?”
Ford blushed. “My first and only love.” He murmured, his heart fluttering as he repeated the phrase he told Dipper a few nights before.
“‘Didn’t know you could be all mushy, sixer.” Stan chuckled. “If he makes you happy, then…”
“He does.” Ford smiled. “He really does, Stanley. I’ve… I’ve missed him, dearly. To be honest, the thought of you both back home kept me alive. It’s relieving to have the two of you under one roof.”
Surprised flickered over his features. “It is?” His face softened into a hopeful smile. “You missed me, too?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re my twin brother. Of course I missed you.” Ford huffed, trying to play off his own vulnerability. “Even if it was your fault I was there to begin with…”
“Hey!” Stanley play-huffed. “I’m the one, who brought you back, remember?”
“And how was that, Stanley? You reckless motherfucker.”
Stan bursted into a loud, genuine laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just— I never expected you to swear like that!”
“People change.” Ford shrugged. “I met a guy named Rick on my travels. You would get along well with each other.”
“Well, I doubt I’d have anything in common with one of your nerdy friends, but I’ll—“
“Grunckle Stan! Why is Old Man McGucket in our bathtub?” Mabel screeched from upstairs.
Both old men looked at each other, snapped out of their conversation, and wondering what to do.
“I can deal with it.” Stan offered.
Ford shook his head. “I’ll come, too. He is my boyfriend, after all.”
“‘You going to tell the kids that?”
“Why not?” Ford shrugged. “They would find out, eventually. Besides, Dipper’s already seen photos of us together. He’s a smart kid. It wouldn’t take him long to put two and two together.” The idea of sneaking around with F repulsed him. They had already done so for decades. Ford was tired of hiding and he was sure that Fiddleford would feel the same. “I’m not embarrassed of our love.”
“Didn’t say you were.” Stan patted Ford on the back. “Coming sweetie!” He called upstairs.
So they were really doing it, huh? Ford took in a deep breath and followed his brother.