Ford studies Stanley from across the table, dazedly content expression on his face. His brother was oblivious to the stare, focus entirely on the needle and thread he was poking and pulling through the torn jacket on the table. He's not sure how long he was staring, mind pleasantly fuzzy and relaxed, a state only Stanley seemed capable of causing. Quietly, Ford set down the pen he was loosely holding, and scooted himself around the edge of the curved booth, situating himself next to his twin. The only acknowledgment of the change he got was a minuscule turn of Stan's head before it turned right back to the task at hand. Ford only gazed at him for a moment longer before a smile works onto his face.
"Can I kiss you?" Stanford asks casually.
Stan's brows rise at the out-of-nowhere question, giving Ford a side eye glance before looking back down, a light dust to his cheeks. "You don't need to ask, you know." He grumbles, fidgeting with the fabric in his hands.
"Yes, I do." Ford's smile widens "Because it makes you blush like that."
Stanley huffs, setting the sewing supplies on the table and frowning, face becoming even more flush after the comment "I'm not blushing."
"You just got redder." Stanford teases, leaning closer with a fond, toothy smile.
"No I didn't." Stan says too quickly, crossing his arms and raising his head defiantly, eyes closed and frown still cemented onto his face.
"For someone who's supposed to be a con-man, you sure are a terrible liar." Ford prods again, not even trying to hide the smugness in his voice. He leans even closer to Stan, pressing their shoulders together, reveling in the way Stan poutily leans away.
"Look, are you gonna kiss me or what?!" Stan finally snaps, tapping his fingers impatiently.
Stanford chuckles, then nudges Stan's shoulder with his own. Stan turns to him, Ford takes his face into his hands and pulls him into a kiss. It lasts a few moments before their lips smack apart, and Ford leans back away with a satisfied smile.
"Thank you."
"Yeah yeah, whatever, nerd."