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So, here you were.
Room 203, Warner Hall. Stanford Pines’ room.
He definitely seemed into you, so you didn’t know why you felt so nervous, hesitating to knock on his door. On top of that, he had been friendly to you in class the day after you two formally meet in the dining hall; although chemistry class wasn’t the best socializing time, you were able to exchange a few pleasantries with him before filing into the lecture hall. Like any other class, Ford was able to answer any question that stumped the rest of the students, including you.
So that, along with the fact that you were starting develop feelings for him as well, led you to where you were now. Room 203, Warner Hall.
You tried to rationalize you anxiety away; he had offered you to come visit his room if you ever needed help. Plus, it was obvious from the blush that dusted his cheeks every time you so much as looked his way that he liked you. Though these thoughts did little to calm your nerves, you were starting to get weird looks from students who noticed how long you had been standing there, so without thinking, you just rapped on the door.
Silence. Some muffled, indiscernible noises, and then more silence. You waited. More silence.
A spark of worry that you had the wrong room started boiling inside you, but you had come this far. No stopping now. You knocked the door once more, gently calling out Ford’s name.
This time there was an immediate response, as you heard a lot of shuffling and Ford calling out, “coming!”
When he opened the door and saw you, a smile quickly appeared on his face (as well as that signature blush). His hair was a mess, and his glasses were a bit askew, and he looked totally adorable.
“Oh, it’s nice to see you! I didn’t think you’d actually come...” Ford said, before amending his statement, “b-but I’m really glad you’re here!”
You chuckled, “well, you so kindly offered to help with chemistry, and I don’t think I could pass up the opportunity of having such a cute tutor.”
Ok, you didn’t know where that line and that confidence came from, but by the looks of Ford’s flustered face and a murmured “th-thank you,” it had totally worked.
He invited you into his dorm: his roommate wasn’t there at the moment, which you were thankful for (not only because that meant alone time with Ford, but the place was so messy you weren’t sure three people could even fit).
“Heheh, sorry about the mess,” Ford muttered bashfully as he tried to make room on his desk with no avail. Noticing the futility of his mission, you made a suggestion.
“Would you mind if we just sat on your bed? I don’t think there’s even room to pull up another chair to your desk.”
“Sure, um, no problem!” responded Ford as he sat himself down on the edge of his bed, piles of chemistry notes in textbooks in hand. You sat down right next to him, and he tensed up a bit at the sudden proximity.
He began, “so, um, anything in particular you needed help with?”
Oh god, it took every ounce of will power you had not to make some cheesy joke about anatomy. But you decided not to tease him too much, and actually told him which chem subjects were confusing you.
He actually seemed to perk up when explaining the various chemical concepts to you. This was Ford’s territory, something he could feel confident in. Sometimes he would go off on tangents not really related to your question, but he looked so enthusiastic telling you about them that you let him ramble on for as long as he pleased.
Ford was a surprisingly good teacher, despite his frequent sidetracking. This went on for about 2 hours, and before you knew it, you felt you had a pretty good grasp on concepts that seemed unknowable just hours ago. As the impromptu study session winded down, you realized how close you were to Ford; both of you had come to lie down on your bellies, propping yourselves up on your elbows. Your faces were merely inches away from each other.
As the talk of chemistry devolved into chats about more mundane things--schedules, majors, clubs--Ford seemed to fluster more easily now that he was out of his comfort zone again. In fact, he couldn’t even look in your eyes anymore as they darted everywhere. His face was beet red, too. He was a pretty easily-embarrassed guy, but this was a new level of nervousness, even for Ford. And you just couldn’t figure out why, until you realized how your shirt had fallen down quite a ways, exposing much of your chest.
It was now your turn to blush and stutter, fumbling out excuses and apologies while Ford assured you that it wasn’t a big deal (although he was relieved that the elephant in the room was gone).
“It’s really not a problem,” he reassured you, “i-in fact I rather enjoyed it.”
And, for a moment, you could swear the world stood still, before Ford was flushed up to his ears and began gushing out his own apologies.
“Oh my--I’m so, so, sorry, I didn’t mean to--I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that--not that it’s untrue but it was completely out of line and--”
You shut him up with a kiss.
It didn’t last long, but when you pulled away, Ford’s eyes were glazed over, his lips slightly parted, and his face still red. You both just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until Ford spoke up.
“M-may we do that again?”
His face looked like a begging puppy, big brown eyes glistening, and you just couldn’t say no (nor did you want to say no). One of your hands was placed on top of one of his as you leaned in for another, longer, sweeter kiss. It was a bit uncomfortable to crane your necks from this angle, but neither of you minded at all. His kiss was timid and inexperienced but it was absolutely melting your heart.
Every so often the two of you would pull away for a breath, sometimes giggling at each other at the romantic awkwardness of the situation. In the heat of the moment, both of you barely registered the jiggling of the doorknob before jumping about 20 feet away from each other as Ford’s roommate entered the room.
Ford greeted him, “Oh, ahem, uh, welcome back, Fiddleford,” and he introduced you to him as well. (His voice even cracked once out of nervousness).
Fiddleford and you said your hellos before you figured it was about time to leave. You turned back to Ford.
“Sooo...” you asked, “would you like to study again another time?”
“Yes!” Ford responded enthusiastically. “That--that would be quite beneficial for the both of us, I believe.”
Chuckling, you said goodbye to him, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek. Ford’s face looked like one of pure bliss as you closed the door to room 203, Warner Hall.