A Tale of Two Fords

[Insert Christmas Filler]

A/N: hey I know it's already past Christmas and this doesn't even follow along to the plot at all but here have this random Christmas FiddAuthor filler before I quite literally almost kill someone with feels :3
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Thanks for reading hope you enjoy!
~William

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"Stanford!"
"Ughh...."
"Stanford! Stanford!"
"Ughhh... What is it.."
"Stanford! C'mon Stanford, get up! Get up you gotta see this!"
A low groan from the brunette.
More excited shouts from the other.
Stanford sat up with a sigh. He swung his arms around, almost socking his roommate in the face once or twice, and eventually his fingers found it's way to the glasses on his bed-side table. He blinked and yawned, looking at the all-too excited Fiddleford who stood beside him.
"Come on, Stanford. Come on!"
Before he could register what was happening, and well before he could come up with a half-snappy half-sarcastic comment to launch at the southern man, Fidds had locked arms with him and attempted to drag him to the window.
In Ford's sleepy state, it took the two of them 15 minutes max.
"Wait wait wait..." his roommate scrambled around and reached, drawing the curtains back excitedly. He pointed outside. "Look'it!"
The entire campus and beyond was covered in white fluffy-looking snow. The tree branches caught some of the flakes, sending more floating to the ground each time the wind blew, despite the lack of an actual storm going on. Fiddleford looked out the window at the white-washed world, fascination lighting up the bright eyes behind his glasses.
Ford, meanwhile, was no where near as amused.
"Fiddleford," the taller man hissed through gritted teeth. "You woke me up... On a Saturday... During the ungodly hours of before 10 AM... To show... Me... Snow...?!"
The cheery answer to his intimidating foreshow was not what he had expected.
"Is that what you fellas call it..?" Fiddleford asked softly, looking out in complete astonishment. "Snow..?"
Then it came to Stanford's half-asleep mind why exactly the shorter man had insisted he get up.
"Is... Is this your first snow..?"
There was a slightly awkward silence.
    "I reckon it's the first one I remember, yes..."
    His jaw dropped. Years of building forts and having snowball fights with Stanley came flooding back to him as he suddenly grabbed Fiddleford's arm.
    "You, sir, need to get dressed. Right. Now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Fiddleford was ecstatic.
    To say the least.
    The small town he had lived in prior to college never snowed. No one knew why but everyone just assumed it was something that happened. Now, he had seen snow in movies and heard about some stories from the few friends he had in primary school that would travel to different places during holidays, but that was nothing compared to what the actual first experience was like. He noticed, quickly, that it was quite amazing.
    He also noticed, quickly, that it was significantly cold.
    Ford had insisted that they bundled up in layers of coats, scarfs, shirts, sweaters, and more. He had even convinced Fiddleford to stuff his hair into a beanie (or three) just so he would be sure his roommate wouldn't freeze to death once outside. It was a good move, the shorter man noted in his head as he watched Stanford's eyes light up once they reached a clear field of snow. It was winter break, so there were other students around who had gotten the same idea as the pair and decided to run around, making snow creations and beginning mini wars outside.
     "What should we do?" Fiddleford asked, a little overwhelmed as he looked at the people around them. Ford thought for a moment. His friend, while covered in protective, fluffy coat and sweater armor, was still a thin and fragile thing. A snowball—even one thrown with Ford's lousiest pitch— would definitely knock him over and might even injure Fiddleford if he wasn't careful. Snow angels were fun but only for the first few. Making twenty consecutive snow angels might not have been his first pick. The thought came to Ford just as a pile of snow from the tree beside them landed on his head.
    "Do you want to build a snowman?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "This was a great idea, Fidds."
    "I know... I sure am a genius of some sorts, ain't I?"
    "You bet your hat you are!"
    The duo took a step back and admired their snow-carved work.
    It had started out as three spheres stacked on top of each other with coal for eyes and a carrot nose, blah, blah, blah— the usual. They were done in around half an hour and were about to head inside, content with their time spent.
    And then Fiddleford ("Bless this man!" Stanford had exclaimed, laughing) had offered up a grand idea.
    While watching some nearby kids pelt their poor (slightly disfigured) snowman with a relentless amount of snowballs, Fiddleford had chuckled to himself and mumbled jokingly to Stanford, "Wouldn't it be nifty if you could do that to actual people sometime? I mean I sure wouldn't mind none of that Ashton kid from upstairs got his head knocked off!"
    ...And that is how they ended up with a snow figure of their upstairs neighbor and a pile of snowballs ready as ammo.
    "Let's see how many hits his thick skull can handle," Ford grinned at his friend, who smiled back and handed him a snowball.
    "Yes. Let's."
    It took 56 hits, Stanford calculated, before he handed Fidds the last snowball with an all too happy "will you do the honors?" and watched as the scrawny man hurled the icy thing at Snow Ashton's head with such ferocity, it was a surprise he didn't knock himself over in the process.
    "That sure was fun," Fiddleford smiled sweetly as the snowman's head came toppling to the ground.
    "Why yes. Yes it was," Ford laughed a bit. His roommate gave a few chuckles of some sort before sniffling and rubbing his nose. "Are you okay?"
    "Just p-peach... Pe-each..." Before he could finish his sentence, Fiddleford sneezed softly. He sniffled again. Ford laughed a bit.
    "You sound a bit like a kitten when you sneeze."
    Heat rushed to the shorter man's face. "A-Ah hush!"
    He stifled another laugh. "Let's head back in before you catch something worse than the sniffles..."
    Fiddleford nodded and followed his roommate back inside their dorm. Once in, he shivered.
    "It's much warmer in here," he noted yet shivered again. Ford nodded. He noticed his friend's lack of heat, despite the change from outside, and rushed to his bed, grabbing the blanket and returning to Fiddleford's side. Ford draped the cloth over his shoulders and moved him to curl up on his bed.
    "Fidds?"
    He looked up at his friend, who now stood by the counter. "Y-Yes Ford..?"
    The taller man gave a warm smile. "How does hot chocolate sound..?"
    Fiddleford genuinely smiled back, still shivering in the blanket.
    "Why now... That sounds lovely..."