Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hey Guys, Colorfullyminded here. I decided to start taking my fanfiction from my tumblr page and also posting them here. I know sometimes it can be difficult to read the tumblr text, so maybe it'll be easier to read on here. Also if anything happens and I have to leave tumblr for whatever reason, my stories will still be here for you to enjoy.

For this story, I'm just posting all the little Pinescone Prompts I received into one big collection. So my longer Oneshots like Jason Funderburker, The Lights Flicker Out, Take your Time, etc. will have their own post. But just these cute little prompts that are no longer than a few pages will be put here. All of these oneshots are completed, however, because I'm not sure how many prompts I'll actually make, the story will remain open. It doesn't mean that it's incompleted though, it just means it's still open for more prompts to come in. But again, all the prompts for this collection are completed.

If you guys want to read my fanfictions on tumblr, here's the url: on http://colorfullyminded.tumblr.com/post/54970912886/fanfiction-page

I hope you enjoy this collection of gays, known as Pine Needles and Pinescones. Without further ado, let's get this thing started
~Wisdom

Chapter Text

Title: Shovel Talk

Rated: F (for Fluff; seriously, it’s all cute shenanigans)

“So now that you and Wirt are dating, does that mean I can give him the ole’ shovel talk?” Mabel asked, swinging her legs from the top bunk of their bed. Dipper, who had been leafing through a comic book, stopped reading to give his sister the stink eye. She grinned down at him innocently.

“You will not be giving Wirt any shovel talk whatsoever!”

“Awww come on, I’m your big sister—”

“By 5 minutes!!!” Dipper was quick to remind her.

She purposely ignored him though, “—Which means as the oldest, I have to look out for my baby brother and make sure nobody’s going to take advantage of him.”

“Really? Then how come when I liked Wendy, you didn’t mention having the shovel talk with her?” Dipper asked, rolling his eyes. He turned back to his comic book; there was a far more interesting conversation going on in there, then out here with his sister.

Mabel scoffed. “Wendy’s a girl, she don’t need no shovel talk. Wirt’s a boy, you always give the boy the shovel talk!”

“That’s sexist,” Dipper said, only for him to yelp out in pain when Mabel’s shoe hit him in the head, “Mabel!!!” He glared up at her, “You did that on purpose!”

“You don’t even know what sexist means,” Mabel shot right back.

Dipper frowned and cleared his throat, holding up a finger as he stated, “Sexism: prejudice or discrimination based on sex; especially, discrimination against women. Sexism is also the behavior, conditions, or attitudes that fosters stereotypes of social roles based on sex. Assuming that Wirt deserves the shovel talk because he’s a boy, is a form of sexism.”

“Oh.” Mabel said, looking down at her one missing shoed foot, and smiling guiltily, “Guess you do know. Sorry about that.”

Dipper rolled his eyes again, “Whatever. Besides, this is Wirt we’re talking about. He’s like…the nicest guy in the world. I don’t think I ever have to worry about him getting me into trouble, or hurting me. Heck, in fact, Wendy was more likely to get me hurt —literally—if I were to date her. So once more, how come Wendy didn’t get the talk?” Dipper asked, raising a brow.

Mabel shrugged, biting her cheek to keep from smiling, “I might have also never had the talk with her…because I kind of figured you two would never get together….”

Dipper threw her shoe back at her.

—

“So, Greg tells me you’re dating that Pines boy?” Wirt dropped his spoon, shooting a glare at his little brother, who was completely unphased by the look.

“Greg, I told you not to say anything!”

“I forgot,” Greg said, not even looking the least bit apologetic. Though, Wirt didn’t really have it in his heart to stay mad at him. Not anymore at least. It wasn’t like he was surprised honestly. Telling a child a secret anytime was guaranteed to blow up in your face, as most often they wouldn’t be able to keep it secret for long. They had that need inside their head to tell someone. At least, that’s how Wirt saw it.

“So, you’re dating the Pines boy,” Greg’s—or um…I suppose his dad too— said, eyeing Wirt thoughtfully. Johnathan was his stepdad really, but Wirt had finally accepted him into his life as his father figure, even if he didn't say it aloud. The man had been around long enough, and had shown as much love and care for Wirt as he had done with his biological son Greg. Wirt figured Johnathan deserved the same love and care he had shown Wirt. He'd never call him dad to his face, but in his mind, the namesake was growing on him.

“Oh he’s such a sweet boy.” Their mother gushed. “He’s always so polite when he comes over. A little dirty behind the ears, but a sweet boy.”

Their dad nodded, grinning from ear to ear, “I agree, he definitely is a nice kid, and ever since you started hanging out with him, Wirt, you seems more out of your shell than I’ve ever seenyou.” Then his face turned serious, “That being said, I think I should still have a talk with Dipper, mano-e-mano.”

Wirt groaned, placing his hand on his head, massaging his temple. He could already feel the migraine. “Dad, please no. Not the shovel talk.”

“Shovel talk?” Greg asked, his curiosity piqued. “What’s that?” Their mother and father chuckled, their dad reaching over to ruffle Greg’s hair. Wirt only groaned again, now hiding his face completely in his hands.

“The shovel talk is sometime that happens when…well, hey, I think maybe you should be the one to give Dipper the shovel talk!” Wirt’s head snapped up at that, giving his dad an incredulous look.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Wirt’s lips twitched into an almost smile. The idea was actually laughable.

“Sure! Why not? He’s your brother, and as his brother Greg,” Their dad said now to the younger boy, “It’s your job to watch out for Wirt, and to do that, you need to make sure you give his new boyfriend the shovel talk. You think you can do that buddy? For your old man?”

Greg seemed to take a minute to think about it. Then he lifted both arms in the air, shouting, “I can do it! I’ll give Dipper the shovel talk.”

The entire family burst out laughing, even Wirt, who couldn’t help but wonder how this whole scene would play out, and just knowing it would turn into some kind of a comedy.

—-

“Hey Wirt, do you mind helping me with something today?” Wirt closed his locker, finding Dipper’s twin sister waiting behind it, smiling sweetly up at him.

“Huh? Oh sure Mabel, what do you need help with?” Wirt asked as he stuffed his books for his next class in his backpack. She must have needed some help for her to travel all the way to the highschool hallways to talk to him.

“Nothing big, but this winter vacation, me and Dipper are getting our own rooms, and I don’t know how to decorate it. Sara and Dipper both said you have an eye for interior design. Think maybe you can help me out?” Wirt blushed.

“Oh man, they told you that? It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but yeah, I know a thing or two about decor. I’d love to help you out!”

Mabel beamed, “Cool, K. I’ll meet you right outside and we can walk to my house together. Alright, gotta get to class, Bye!” Mabel sing-songed, skipping away merrily. Wirt watched her go, smiling. That girl was just the sweetest thing. She reminded Wirt of Greg so much.

“All according to plan,” Mabel stopped halfway down the hallway, when she was sure Wirt could no longer see her, rubbing her hands together, very much akin to that of a super villain. Her enthusiasm for what the evening entailed mounted, until she was leaning back, cackling wildly. Then realizing she was in the middle of the hallway, teens staring at her in confusion, and even a few in fear, she stopped, straightened up, coughed, and continued on her way as though nothing had happened.

—

“Dipper, I need you to come with me!” Dipper looked down, Greg tugging at the hem of his shorts.

“Huh? Greg? What are you doing here? Doesn’t Wirt usually pick you up from the elementary school?” Dipper looked around for any sign of sienna haired boy. He also kept an eye out for his sister who was suppose to be meeting him out front so they could walk home together. Greg had other plans though.

“Wirt’s busy. Besides, I need you to come with me! It’s important!” Greg said, taking Dipper’s hand in his and tugging the boy forward. Dipper stumbled, and not wanting to fall over or be dragged on the ground by a ten year old, allowed the boy to lead him away from the school.

He’d just text Mabel to walk home without him.

—

“So what kind of decor are you thinking about using?” Wirt asked, assessing the blank room. It had been a studies for the past two years, but now most of the stuff was taken out so Mabel could start getting her own stuff situated. Currently, the young teen was sitting on her futon, knitting a sweater. She looked up when Wirt asked her the question though.

Biting her lip, she gave it a few seconds thought, before turning her attention back to the sweater she was knitting. “I don’t know. I want something that really pops out. Bright colors, maybe pastel. I want it to look like a rainbow threw up in here.”

Wirt cringed at the idea. He didn’t know what kind of decor that could be, (unless he thought gaudy), as he usually studied classier interior design. He tried to think of any designers he knew that fit such a description to what Mabel wanted. But before he could even reply though, Mabel was speaking again, and it was obvious from her tone that this was her real reason for bringing him here. “Wirt…can I tell you something?”

“Ummm….sure?” Wirt asked, looking around in confusion at the sudden change in atmosphere. It was like the temperature in the room had dropped.

“My brother…he’s a little…how should I put this…he’s a bit of dork. He can be clumsy, and despite what he says or thinks, he’s also a bit gullible. When Dipper really likes someone, he can be a little more clumsier than usual. And he can be even more gullible.”

“Uh…huh?” Wirt said slowly, still not sure where this conversation was heading.

“You see, as his sister, it’s my job to make sure he doesn’t trip on his untied shoelaces, or do something dumb…like raise the dead,” she stopped to snicker. Most likely at an inside joke Wirt didn’t get. Then she was back to seriousness. “It’s also my job to make sure he doesn’t get hurt…and I mean, like, really hurt.”

“Understandable.” Wirt thought about his own brother and how much he would go through to make sure he was okay.

“The one thing that makes me sadder than anything is someone breaking Dipper’s heart. No matter how macho he tries to act, or how tough he tries to be, I know that deep down he’s scared. When he’s with you, I know inside he’s scared; going through some mental checklist in his head to make sure everything is going according to plan, trying so hard to seem older to you, to impress you. He doesn’t want you to think less of him, or that he’s too young for you. On the outside he might seem like he’s alright, maybe occasionally he’ll whisper out something under his breath, but inside he’s always panicking. And I hate that he has to feel like that all the time. I know he does it because he’s afraid he’s not good enough for you.” Mabel stopped knitting, her hands twisting into the cotton of the half finished sweater. Wirt could see the worry in her eyes, and he finally understood what she was getting at.

“Mabel, I promise you that I’m not going to hurt Dipper. I don’t think he’s too young for me. I don’t think that he’s beneath me. In fact…sometimes I can’t believe that he would even want to be with someone as dorky and dumb as me. He’s so much more adventurous than me. The most exciting thing I can do is write poetry and play clarinet.” He thought back to his time over the Garden Wall. While that had been an adventure of it’s own, he hadn’t planned to go on it, it just happened. He crossed his arms over his chest, digging his nails into his sweater as he felt his own insecurities come out. “Sometimes…I think Dipper’s going to think I’m too boring for him.” He admitted. He never really talked about it before, but he was genuinely worried that the boy would realize how truly boring he was and decide he didn’t want to be with Wirt anymore. “I’m just as scared as him, Mabel…maybe even more.”

Mabel studied his expression intently. There was no trace of deceit on his face. Everything he said was 100% true, and Mabel knew then, that he didn’t need a talk.

“Thank you for coming over Wirt. You can go home now,” She said, smiling softly. Wirt uncrossed his arms, looking at her in confusion.

“I thought you needed help with your room?”

“I lied…I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to make sure that you weren’t going to hurt my brother…and that I had nothing to worry about. And now I have my answer. Thank you for staying and entertaining my silly little worries.”

Wirt stared at her for a minute, before his lips curved into a warm smile of his own. Dipper was lucky to have a sister as wonderful as her. “Thank you Mabel. I’m glad I was able to put your worries at ease.” He headed for the door.

“Oh…and Wirt?”

Wirt turned around. Mabel was holding up the half-finished sweater, and on it was a picture of a cartoon version of him. He chuckled softly at it. “If you do anything to hurt my brother…” Mabel continued, smiling. She jabbed her sewing needles through the fabric, it coming out the other end, impaling his cartoon figure through the forehead.

Wirt gulped, feeling sweat gathering at his brow.

Wirt needed to make sure he never got on Mabel’s bad side.

—

“So why are we here Greg?” Dipper asked, once they had made it to Greg’s house. He waited patiently by the garage door under Greg’s command. He said he had something he needed to show Dipper, so Dipper waited while Greg disappeared into the backyard to go grab…something. As he waited, he wondered if Wirt was at home. Maybe after Greg showed him whatever it was he wanted to show him, he could sneak up to Wirt’s room and spend a little time with the man before he had to go home. Maybe Wirt was writing a poem, and, with enough prompting, Wirt would finally read it to him and Dipper could have his heart flutter. Or maybe he was practicing his clarinet or the bassoon and would put on a little impromptu performance for him. Dipper sighed lovingly, the thought of the other boy always making his knees a little weak.

“Dipper!” Realizing Greg had returned, Dipper looked down to find the younger male with…a shovel in his hands? The thing was pretty huge and Greg struggled to hold it up; the sight of it was a bit comedic and Dipper tried not to laugh. He didn’t want to offend Greg, and he was curious to know why Greg had a shovel.

“Whatcha got there in your hands Greg?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“This is a shovel Dipper,” Wirt said, pointing to the tool. “A shovel is used to dig things up….like buried treasure. It’s also used to make holes to put things in the ground. My mom has a tiny shovel she uses to put in flowers for her garden.”

“Oh really,” Dipper said, stressing out the words as he continued to feign ignorance. Now he was actually a little lost. Was this why Greg had called him over? To talk about a shovel? Why?

“To properly use a shovel, you have to grab the handle.” Greg demonstrated this, grabbing hold of the handle, the weight of it causing Greg to dip slightly. The only thing stopping Greg from falling on his face was the blade of the shovel hitting the concrete and holding him up. “You use the other end,” he continued, pointing to the blade of the shovel, “To dig into the ground. But you can only do it on soft things, like grass, or dirt. You can’t use it on hard things, like the sidewalk. Now, to make sure you get the shovel in deep, so you can dig out more, dad does this thing, where he pushes his foot down on the shovel, and I guess it help? I’m not sure.”

“Um Greg?”

“Yeah?” Greg looked up, smiling.

“I hate to interrupt…but is this why you called me over today?” Greg nodded. “Umm, okay? May I ask…why?”

“I’m giving you the shovel talk!” Greg chirped, looking particularly pleased with himself. Dipper blinked, digging his pinky in his ear to rid the crud out of it, sure he had heard wrong.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked again. Greg seemed upset that Dipper was asking to repeat himself, but then he smiled again.

“I’m giving the shovel talk! Dad said that now that you’re dating Wirt, I’m suppose to have the “Shovel Talk” with you…this is…how it works right? I mean, I don’t know what talking about a shovel has to do with you and my brother being together, but if my dad says it’s important than I know he’s right.”

Dipper blinked a few times, processing the words Greg had just fed him. Then, unable to contain it anymore, he keeled over, laughing loudly. “Oh…OH GREG!! Hahahaha! No Silly…the shovel talk is not…..pffft—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OH GOD MY SIDES IT HURTS!!!! BWAHAHAHA, GREG YOU ARE TOO PRECIOUS!!!!” Dipper reached over, patting the boy on the head. Greg seemed confused, but also happy.

“Did I do alright?”

Stifling his laughter, at least most of it anyway, Dipper nodded, tears in his eyes, “Y-yes Greg…you did alright. You’re a very good boy!”

“Does that mean I can go inside and watch TV now?”

“Yeah G-greg. Go on in!”

“Whoopee!!!” Greg cheered, dropping the shovel and making a dash for the front door. Dipper stayed outside, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Dipper looked up, his laughter dying, cheeks becoming red as Wirt stood in front of him, wanting to know what was so funny.

“Y-your brother…he…he tried to give me the shovel talk!” Dipper almost started laughing again, but was able to control himself. Wirt groaned, but didn’t look surprised. He must have already known this was going to happen.

“Oh man! Wonder how that went?” Wirt asked, his eyes taking note of the shovel on their driveway. “Oh no! Did he think—did he take the shovel talk in a literal sense?”

Dipper couldn’t answer, his cheeks puffing up as he tried to contain his laughter. He nodded instead. They stood there for a few seconds just looking at each other.

And then they both were on the ground, laughing.

When the laughter subsided, the two remained laying on the driveway, staring up at the orange sky as twilight neared. “So um, your sister called me over to your house today,” Wirt said after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh dear, did she give you the talk too?”

“Yeah…but it was sweet. I mean, she really cares about you… and I think it ended well for the most part.” Wirt turned his head to the side, Dipper mimicking the motion so that they were staring at each other.

“Did it?” Dipper asked, their faces getting closer, noses brushing together. Wirt intertwined their fingers together.

“Yeah…I think she knows that I’m just as crazy about you as you are me. And I’m pretty sure I got her Mabel seal of approval!”

Dipper chuckled softly, “Even if she didn’t, It wouldn’t have mattered because I’m the only one who needs to approve…but I’m glad that she agrees with my decision. I think I made the right choice.”

“I think I did too.” Wirt said, and closed the space between them in a lazy kiss. Dipper hummed into the kiss, feeling better than ever. They pulled away a second later, cheeks burning, eyes half lidded, and giggling in embarrassment.

“Hey…wait a minute…what do you mean by ‘For the most part?’ What happened?”

Wirt paled, and only said that Dipper was very lucky to have a good sister like her, and to please never sick her on him ever, because he was too young to die.

Chapter Text

Title: Ribbons and Lace

Rated: Nsfw

“Woah! Okay! So…this is a thing that is happening now?” Wirt looked above him, to his left and right, his hands securely tied to the headboard by the ties he used to wear when his mother made him and Greg get up early in the morning to go to church. She hadn’t taken him in years (what with Wirt denouncing his faith and converting to agnostically atheist) and they mostly just sat tucked in the corner of his sock drawer, wearing away. That being said, there was something almost sacrilegious about using his church ties to tie his wrist up. Especially when his boyfriend was sitting on his lap, in his boxers, rocking his hips against Wirt’s to create some friction between their growing arousals.

If he was still a religious man, he might have been afraid of his soul burning in eternal damnation for this horrible sin he was to commit (in more than just one way), but he was a man of little faith, and so his soul rested easy. And honestly, he wouldn’t have been thinking about God’s will right then, as all the rational thought and blood in his head had journeyed south.

“Is is too tight? I can loosen it for you, if you want?” Dipper asked, stopping the circular motions of his hips to lean over and check the tightness of Wirt’s bonds.

“I thought the point of bondage was to make sure I couldn’t move?” Wirt asked, his left eyebrow dipping as his right disappeared behind his hairline.

“Well, I just want to make sure I didn’t do them too tight. The point is to be restrained, not to lose feeling in your hands.” Dipper muttered, moving to check the other bond.

“I’m fine Dipper, my wrists are alright.” He chuckled, lifting himself up to plant a chaste kiss on the bottom of Dipper’s chin. “You’re the one who was so excited to do this. You’re not backing out are you?”

Dipper huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face, “I’m not backing out, but forgive me if I’m worried about you and want to make sure you’re comfortable.” He sat back down onto the older boy’s lap, his eyebrows furrowed. “You are…okay, right?” he asked again. Their relationship had always been very vanilla. They never really pushed the limits of their love making. They always did the same old, same old, missionary position. Sweet talking as they gently rocked their bodies against each other. Hand holding as they rode each other until orgasm. And then cuddling followed by a lot of post coital kissing before they slept.

Dipper wasn’t complaining though. He enjoyed the sweet touches, gentle fucking. He had no problem with the way they were going about it, but Dipper would be lying if he said he wasn’t occasionally bored of the vanilla lifestyle. He knew Wirt had no problem with it. Wirt was one big bowl of vanilla ice cream, and that wasn’t a bad thing, not in the slightest. Dipper adored how his boyfriend was; how gentle and sweet he was. How everything was just so simple and easy with Wirt. Dipper could just relax with Wirt, he could just enjoy the simplicity and serenity that surrounded the older boy. Wirt was tame, and with all the craziness Dipper went through in his life, and all the stress that accumulated on his shoulders after many summers in Gravity Falls, he liked that he had a little vanilla to balance out his world. He liked having somewhere where he could take off his coat, sit down, put his feet up and simply relax.

But even so, Dipper wanted Wirt to be a little more spontaneous, to get out of his comfort zone and just go wild. And he thought the answer was in tying said boyfriend up, in the middle of the day, and riding him until they both were seeing stars. Because afternoon bondage was totally spontaneous and hot, wasn’t it?

Wirt gave Dipper a reassuring smile. “I’m alright Dip. I promise. Now let’s get this done. Mabel took Greg to go to the movies and I would like to be finished before they get back. What did you tell her when she asked why we weren’t coming?” Wirt asked, surprised when Mabel hadn’t prodded him for more details on why it was only them that would be going to the cinema.

“I said we weren’t coming because I was going to be too busy bouncing on your dick!” Dipper grinned cheekily. Wirt felt his face heat up, his mouth falling open in horror.

“You Did NOT!!!” He screeched. Any higher in octave and he would have shattered his glass window. He wanted so badly to reach over and strangle the boy, and he would have too, or at the very least, smacked Dipper, if he wasn’t being restrained by his own clothing.

Dipper threw his hand over his mouth to contain his laughter—most of it anyway. “Chill out, I just told her I wanted to have some alone time with you. She seemed to understand perfectly what I meant and didn’t pry any further.” He did not mention the entourage of teasing he got after though.

Wirt sighed, his chest decompressing as he released the air he had been holding in. He glared at Dipper through his bangs, the boy grinning innocently back at him. “You’re a real jerk sometimes!” Dipper shrugged, like it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already heard.

The innocent smiled morphed into something more mischievous, as Dipper slowly began to crawl up the boy’s body, his face hovering just inches from Wirt’s, and his hands on either side of the mattress near Wirt’s waist. “But you love me anyway. Cause you know you can’t help yourself to a “Jerk” like me.” he purred into the other boy’s ear, giving the shell of his ear a lick. Wirt shuddered, his face turning a dark shade of red, and feeling increasingly more uncomfortable in his lower regions. He arched up, wanting to make contact with Dipper’s hips again, but with Dipper kneeling above him, he was just short of contact. And he couldn’t pull Dipper down to grind into his lap, or even grab his unruly hair for a make out session. Wirt was starting to really hate being tied up.

“What do you want Wirt?” Dipper chuckled, fully aware he was driving the older boy insane, and cherishing every minute of it.

“Kiss me!”

“Kiss you? Is that all you want?”

“No, but the things I really want to say, I can’t make form into an appropriate construct, so it would just be some lewd ramblings of a lower intelligence.” Dipper shuddered, moaning softly. The action, being so close to Wirt’s ear, made the older teen moan and twitch beneath his jeans. God he wanted to get out of this accursed restraint already, and he wasn’t talking about the ties locking his wrist in place.

“Oh I love it when you talk nerdy to me!” Dipper purred, lowering his hips to meet Wirt’s, allowing the boy his desperately needed desires. Wirt immediately bucked up, the friction sending electricity through both their spines. They tipped their head back and moaned. Wirt repeated the action, and while he was able to stave off his desire to moan again, Dipper had no qualms with letting his voice be heard in the empty house. Wirt had other plans though as he watched Dipper’s adam’s apple bobbing. Hungry for more than just friction, but a need to taste flesh, he leaned forward, his teeth gently sinking into the protrusion coming from Dipper’s throat.

This resulted in the best kind of reaction from the younger male. His eyes rolled back into his head and his back arched, pushing them chest to chest, which, under normal circumstances, Wirt would have instinctively wrapped his arms around Dipper to hold him in place. But once more, he was reminded of his inability to move his arms, and that fact was getting to be a little grating. Though Dipper’s panting was making up for it. Dipper hummed in approval and Wirt could feel the vibrations against his lip. He could feel the wet spot in his boxers growing, and the need to be free was too strong to ignore anymore.

He detached his teeth from Dipper’s adam’s apple, a shiny red circle forming in it’s place, Wirt nodded his head in satisfaction at the bruise that would form there later, his newest piece. Either Dipper was going to have to wear a scarf for a week, or it would be interesting to watch him stutter his way out of this one to his very attentive, and quite nosy, family. But there were more pressing matters at hand, and yes, pun intended. “Dipper, you mind doing me a little favor, and getting me out of this damn thing?” He wiggled his hips, indicating his jeans as the source of his sexual frustrations. Dipper, eyes glazed over by lust, wiped the drool from the corner of his lips and nodded. Even with his arm covering the bottom portion of his face, Wirt could see the underlining blush peeking out. It was a habit Wirt had recorded to memory earlier; whenever shy, or embarrassed, or turned on, Dipper tried to conceal his blush by pretending to scratch his nose with his sleeve or rub off some invisible dirt from his cheek. It was an obvious ruse to discern, but even without his attempts to hide his blush, the tips of his ears could not be as easily hidden from Wirt’s perceptive eyes.

“Y-yeah, of course.” Dipper wasted no time in unbuttoning the musician from his pants. He hooked his fingers in the loops of Wirt’s jeans, and, when the boy lifted his hips, he pulled them down. Wirt’s arousal was pushing against the cotton of his boxers, the middle spot already soaked with precome. “Eager aren’t we?” Dipper said, trying to sound cocky, but the crack in his voice wasn’t too convincing. He hooked his fingers in the hem of Wirt’s boxers, slowly, painstakingly, inching them down his hips. He stopped just seconds before Wirt could be released from his confinement. The clarinetist made a noise in the back of his throat he didn’t think was possible.

“Dipper, come on, this is torture enough,” Wirt begged, twisting his wrist in an attempt to do…something. He was always moving his arms during sex; reaching for something, running his fingers through something, groping something. Having nothing he could cling to or touch was pure agony. He needed to have his hands moving at all times, his fingers were itching. Did all musicians feel this immense craving to have their fingers active at all time?

“Hehe, sorry,” Dipper apologized, though he showed no true guilt for his foreplay. But he at least was kind enough to not hold off this torture any longer, as he pulled the boxers just a little more, Wirt’s arousal immediately springing up, the head leaking with a thick white substance. Dipper’s eyes dilated at the sight, and he reached over to quickly wipe the corners of his lips again. “Wow, you really are eager,” His voice was low and husky, and he had a hungry look in his eyes.

“Yes, I’m aching all over, my bones are practically rattling.” Wirt panted. “Please Dipper, I can’t take much more. Do something. Touch it, stroke it, put your mouth on it, I don’t care! Just, do anything.” He was already so hard, he knew it wouldn’t take him much to come. In fact, he could have done it right now, but he would have never lived it down if he came before his boyfriend had even touched him.

Something Wirt said made a light go on in Dipper’s eyes. And judging by the way he licked his lips, it wasn’t difficult to see exactly what the boy wanted to do. Wirt nodded longingly. “Please…just…touch me!!!”

Dipper didn’t need to be told again. Without hesitation, he moved towards Wirt’s arousal. Sticking his tongue out, he licked a solid path up the base to the tip, catching a bit of precum on the way up. Wirt moaned, doing everything in his power not to buck his hips. Each lick sent a jolt throughout his body. He moaned when Dipper started licking a trail back down. So badly he ached to comb his fingers through the soft curls of Dipper’s hair. He loved grabbing Dipper’s hair when the boy blew him. Even on days when it was the most greasiest, Wirt couldn’t keep his hands off. But once more, when he went to reach for Dipper’s hair, he was grounded back to reality and what was becoming the bane of his existence.

Dipper, who seemed not to notice Wirt’s frustrations, worked on lapping up all the precum that had spilt over, as well as driving Wirt to more suffering. He wondered how long he could get away with merely licking before the older boy got impatient. It wasn’t long at all, as Wirt growled low in his throat, and bucked his hips, his arousal pressing against Dipper’s semi opened lips. “Dipper! Enough please. I’m already in misery by not getting to touch you, don’t make me wait any longer either!” Wirt looked almost close to tears, and the younger boy didn’t doubt that he would start crying. Not wanting to make the other boy actually break down, Dipper complied to his groveling. He pressed a quick kiss to the head, before parting his lips, Wirt easily slipping inside his mouth. Wirt moaned loudly, bucking his hips. Dipper felt the head of Wirt’s shaft hit the back of his throat and he gagged. But seconds later he was humming, the vibrations shooting through Wirt’s body and causing him to buck his hips again. Once more Dipper felt the back of his throat hit and mixed in between his gags, was a delicious moan. Wirt never allowed Dipper to try asphyxiation, refusing to put his hands around Dipper’s neck and squeeze his throat until his windpipes had closed. But this was the closest feeling Dipper got to being choked, and he loved every second of it.

If Wirt was vanilla, then he was a shot of whiskey; burning and raw as he went down.

He began to move, bobbing his head, taking more of Wirt into his mouth. He pushed as far as he could go, without seriously straining himself, and used his hands to make up the parts he couldn’t reach. He made loud slurping sounds with each suck, cheeks hollowing, and Wirt was sure he was doing it on purpose just to drive him up the wall. He stroked the rest of Wirt in long, fluid motions, his hands gently squeezing and fingers playfully twisting the sensitive flesh. Wirt did his best to keep his hips from rising off the bed, but it was difficult to not squirm. He usually had something to ground himself, something he could grip. He hated this…and yet, he couldn’t get enough of this feeling. He wanted to grab Dipper, but having to feel Dipper from his body alone was sending shivers up and down his spine continuously. Dipper’s warm and wet mouth on him was bringing him closer and closer to the brink of orgasm, faster than it had ever before. Was it because he was tied down, that his senses were heightened to an almost excruciating level?

“Dipper!” He moaned unabashedly, his legs trembling as he felt himself getting closer and closer. His toes curled into the sheets and his fingers curled, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. He gnawed his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and closed his eyes as he felt the oncoming waves of pleasure washing over him. Just a little more. He was so close…

But just as he was tipping over the edge, the warm, wet feeling disappeared. Letting out a strangled cry, he opened his eyes and dipped his head back down to find out why the pleasure had stopped. Dipper was grinning at him like a cat who had caught the canary. His thumb pressed down on the slit of Wirt’s cock, keeping him from finishing. Wirt looked down at the hand holding off his orgasm, and then looked up at Dipper with a lost expression. He blubbered out gibberish, and tried to move forward, only to slam himself back against the headboard of his bed. Fuck these constraints. “W-why?” Was the only word he was able to form in his lust clouded head. “Why?” He begged again.

“I can’t have you coming yet…I haven’t even had a turn,” Dipper cheekily replied. He gave Wirt a few tentative strokes to keep the blood pooling, but his thumb remained over Wirt’s slit, keeping him from spurting. He reached with his other hand to palm against his own hard on which was pressing against his boxers. If Dipper ever untied him, Wirt was going to wring his boyfriend’s neck.

Dipper would probably enjoy it anyways. Kinky Bastard!

“Dipper please. I can’t take it much more. Please! Untie me! Touch me! Just don’t leave me like this! I’m losing my mind!”

Dipper grinned from ear to ear. He would be lying if he said watching Wirt beg wasn’t something he dreamed about. And seeing the boy in his absolute control, having to move at Dipper’s tempo, Dipper wanted to drag this out as long as possible without seriously pissing Wirt off. He knew the boy was reaching the pinnacle of patience and not wanting this to go from sweet to sour, he decided to push things along. “Alright, hold on,” he said, pushing down his boxers and kicking them away. He crawled back into Wirt’s lap, wrapping his fingers around both of their erections. He didn’t think Wirt would have the stamina if he tried riding him.

He moved slowly, both of them twitching in his hands, the rush of pleasure rocketing up their spinal cords. He lifted his eyes to find Wirt staring at him with a yearning spark. Face melting into a timid smile, he leaned over, Wirt doing the same (as far as he could go anyway). They met in the middle for a sweet kiss, as Dipper’s hands picked up in speed. Once more that feeling of release was close, this time for the both of them, and thankfully, Dipper didn’t slow his movements, rather picking them up instead. Their kiss became sloppy as they neared their climax; biting bottom lips, teeth clacking together and tongues catching the roofs of mouths. Their breathing turned raspy, chest heaving as Dipper’s strokes moved more sporadically. “W-wirt…I’m …I’m going to…” He pressed his forehead against Wirt’s, panting, eyes fluttering closed.

“Dipper! Please, before you do, u-untie me please!” Wirt gasped, rocking his hips to add more friction between their arousals. Dipper nodded, using his free hand to release Wirt’s wrist from their bonds. He was thankful for his knowledge of rope tying from back when he was a bear cub in boy’s scout or else he would have had to stop and focus on getting Wirt untied. And he was in no mood to stop now, not when they were hanging over the edge. Instead, he pulled at a small notch in the tie, causing the whole thing to come undone. Then he did the same thing with the other one.

Free at last, the older boy didn’t even hesitate. His hands shot out, grabbing a fist full of Dipper’s curls and smashing their lips together in a bruising kiss. It was enough to set them both off, moaning into each other’s mouth as they came. Dipper continued to pump them, riding out the waves of pleasure and milking them to the last drop. When they were completely spent, the two fell over, lying in a heap of tangled limbs, and sticky fluids.

Wirt panted, eyes shut as he caught his breath, unconsciously rubbing his wrist. Dipper looked up, seeing the red lines that had formed around the skin. “Did they hurt? You should have told me I tied them to hard,” Dipper fretted, taking Wirt’s wrist and bringing it to his lips. He pressed multiple kisses along the welt, Wirt opening his eyes to watch him.

Wirt smiled, returning his free hand into Dipper’s mess of curls. “I’m fine. They didn’t hurt at all, but it was torture not getting to touch you. Although, I admit, my body never felt so surged like it did tonight.” he admitted.

“So does that mean you’d be willing to try it again?” Dipper asked, pausing his kisses to give Wirt a hopeful smile.

Wirt’s cocked an eyebrow, his smile twisting into a smirk, “Never. Again!” When Dipper’s face fell, his expression softened and he reached over, bringing Dipper down for a sweet, post-coital smooch. “But I might be willing to try something else next time,” he purred into their kiss.

He could feel Dipper grinning triumphantly against his lips.

Chapter Text

Title: Let It Snow

Rating: G

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,

But the fire is so delightful,

And since we’ve no place to go,

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow.

The two boys were snowed in for the evening. The blizzard outside was too cold to bare the walk back home to Dipper’s house, so Dipper called up his parents to let them know he’d be spending the evening at Wirt’s and that Wirt would drive him home early tomorrow morning. His teeth chattered softly as he talked to them. His parents said that it was fine, but that they should walk back to the house, as the streets would be very slippery and they didn’t want the two getting into an accident. They also demanded that he warm himself up as they could hear his teeth chattering on the other end. Dipper promised he would, and wished them goodnight, hanging up.

He turned to Wirt. “So, what do you wanna do now?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear, his cheeks and nose red, ice water dripping down his curls. Before the weather had gotten crazy, the two had been spending the afternoon playing in the snow, like they did when they were children. It had been awhile since either of them had really played in the snow, and they couldn’t help but feel a nostalgic giddiness. They spent from morning til afternoon throwing snowballs at each other in the driveway, building snowmen in the backyard, and wrestling in the white flurry, trying to shovel large handfuls of snow down the other’s jacket. But as they were playing, and the sun started to sink over the roofs of houses lining the neighborhood, the wind began to pick up; the sky getting darker and the snow falling faster and in larger heaps. When they heard the angry howling winds of warning, their hair getting whipped and tousled by the oncoming storm, they knew it was time to head inside.

“Why don’t you pick out a movie and I’ll put some logs on the fireplace,” Wirt suggested. A nice night in, cuddled by the fire, was a perfect way to end a day in the snow.

It doesn’t show signs of stopping,

And I’ve bought some corn for popping,

The lights are turned way down low,

Let it snow, Let is snow, Let it snow!

With wood on the fire, lighting the living room in a warm, orange glow, Dipper and Wirt pulled a few spare fleece blankets out of the hallway closet, wrapped themselves in a bundled burrito, and flipped on the television, switching to ABC Family for the 25 days of Christmas that they did every December. Wirt left the shelter of Dipper and the blanket and quickly scurried into the kitchen to pop some extra buttery popcorn. In the meantime, Dipper went to change out of his wet clothes into a pair of spare sweats he left at Wirt’s house on occasions when he unexpectedly slept over…which was becoming more of a common occurrence. Nestling back into the warmth of their fleece, they turned their attention to the bigscreen TV. Currently, “It’s a Wonder Life” was playing on the station, and the two excitedly geeked out over the timeless classic, admiring the classic black and white style. They vaguely thought about what life would have been like had they lived in the time when black and white cinema were popular, and had been able to watch these old classics on the big screen. They sighed in earnest, cuddling closer. They were still cold, and a little damp, but they were too blissfully happy to notice the slight uncomfortable chill of their skins. Besides, they would eventually warm up as long as they stayed huddled together.

When we finally kiss goodnight,

How I hate going out in the snow,

But if you really hold me tight,

Then all the way home I’ll be warm.

Tossing some popcorn into his mouth, Dipper commented offhandedly, “I like how into the holidays ABC get’s, and it’s awesome that they play Christmas Movies for the entire month, I just wish Hanukkah got a little love too. I mean, Christmas isn’t the only thing that’s celebrated this month. Look at all the movies you got: All the Reichenbach stop motion films, A Christmas Story, Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life, like, 7 different versions of A Christmas Carol. And what do we have for Hanukkah movies…And I mean, like actual movies that focus solely on the Jewish Holiday?” Dipper asked, tossing another piece of popcorn into the air, trying to catch it in his mouth. It bounced off his nose and got lost somewhere into the carpet. He didn’t bother to go looking for it, as he would just wait until after the movie to clean up whatever mess he made.

“8 Crazy Nights is a Hanukkah movie isn’t it?” Wirt asked, racking his head around for any movies celebrating the Jewish faith.

Dipper shrugged. “Yeah, that’s one. And I like it a lot, but it’s sort of a mix between Christmas and Hanukkah, though, thankfully, it follows Hanukkah a little more. But other than that? What do we really have? And I’m not talking a scene celebrating Hanukkah, I mean a movie that focuses majorly on the holiday.” Dipper once more repeated, sticking his pointer finger up in the air and using it to poke his boyfriend in the cheek.

Wirt racked his brain harder for any Hanukkah movies or specials he could think of. “Didn’t Rugrats have a Hanukkah special? The Pickles were Jewish, weren’t they?”

Dipper nodded, “Yeah they were, and they did. But I was born after the Rugrats so I didn’t see that until much later, and I had to look it up to find it. And other than that?”

Wirt bit his bottom lip, and scrunched his brows in deep concentration. When he came up blank however, he sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “I’m sorry, I can’t really think of much more. If it’s holiday specific you’re looking for, I’m afraid I don’t know too many. Never truly realized how much your holiday is ignored in the media.”

Dipper shrugged, “You get used to it. Christmas is the big celebrity that’s celebrated, and everything else is more like…runner up. Yeah, you get a medal, but you’d rather have a gold than a silver, if you get what I mean. I’d just like a little more recognition, a little more love; that’s all.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better, I celebrate Yule, and Yule is an old pagan holiday that not too many people celebrate anymore, except for Pagans and Wiccan.”

“Yeah, but Christmas derived from the original pagan holiday of Yule. Technically, Christmas is Yule, except with the religious aspect of Christianity stuffed into the mix. And you still have a lot of Christmas movies that don’t focus on the Nativity scene, like Arthur Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, Nightmare Before Christmas and so on and so forth. It focuses more of the mythology of Saint Nick, and the feeling of loved ones and gift giving and merriment, so you could almost see it as celebrating the older traditions. You still have plenty of films you can enjoy. As for me and Mabel, we’re kind of stuck either watching the Christmas movies, or rewatching 8 Crazy Nights over and over again. I mean, it’s no big deal. I like Christmas movies, but you get what I mean.”

Wirt nodded, thinking he could understand. “One day, when my novels become world famous, I’ll write the greatest Hanukkah classic ever. Hollywood producers will be dying to make it into a box office hit.” He said, pressing a kiss into Dipper’s damp curls.

Smiling, Dipper tilted his head up to gaze lovingly at his boyfriend, “You do that,” he laughed. Leaning forward, his lips met Wirt’s in a tender kiss. “Thanks for the thought though, Wirt. But for now, let’s just enjoy these Christmas classics and fill our bellies warm with popcorn and cocoa. Whaddaya say?”

Wirt smiled, nuzzling the boy’s nose with his own in an eskimo kiss “I get more of a warm feeling from your kisses, personally.”

Dipper blushed, the glow of the fire illuminating his pinkened skin and bright eyes. “Thankfully for you, I have plenty left in stock.”

The movie was momentarily forgotten as they pressed their lips together into another tender embrace.

The fire is slowly dying

And, my dear, we’re still goodbying

But as long as you love me so

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

They spent most of the night watching movies, until close to midnight. The fire dwindled, until there was nothing more than warm ash and the residued smell of burning wood. Their mugs of cocoa were empty, and there were only kernels left in the popcorn bowl. The TV had been turned to a low volume; nothing more than background noise as “It’s a Wonderful Life” played again for any people who had missed the earlier showing, the dark room illuminated in black and white color. The only other sounds in the living room, was the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock, and an occasional snore from the small brunette.

Lastly, the two were curled up on the couch, half the blanket covering their midriffs, the rest spilling over the couch and pooling on the floor. They were fast asleep, Dipper’s head tucked under Wirt’s chin, the taller boy’s lanky arms wrapped tightly around Dipper’s waist to keep him from falling off the couch, their legs wrapped around each other at odd angles so you wouldn’t be able to tell who was who. Their breathing was synchronized, their chest rising and falling together. They had peaceful smiles on their faces as they slept, dreaming of a winter wonderland together.

Outside the wind howled and whirled, the air blisteringly cold. But inside it was perfectly warm.

Chapter Text

Title: Patient is the Night

They sat on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, the tv set to a low volume so as not to wake Wirt’s parents, or his younger brother. The grandfather clock in the living room bellowed 12 times, letting the couple know it was now midnight. Dipper lay on Wirt’s chest, listening to the steady ‘thump thump thump’ of Wirt’s heartbeat. He snuggled his cheek against the wooly fabric of Wirt’s sweater and heard his boyfriend’s heartbeat pick up in tempo, if only for a second, before it steadied again. Their eyes were lidded at half mast, the excursions of the day having caught up to them. They had spent all day ice skating; well Wirt had been ice skating, Dipper had been falling on his butt. He promised the older boy that he was a lot better with roller skates and told him, come summer, he’d prove it. Wirt had just laughed, offering the boy his hand, who took it without hesitation. Then Wirt wrapped his hands around the boy’s waist and they glided against the ice, Dipper’s legs shaking dangerously like he would fall over again, but Wirt made sure to keep him standing for the rest of the evening.

Now though, the sun had long since set, and the couple was bundled up in blankets, sweaters and each other, keeping warm. They were on the edge of consciousness, but not quite ready to let go and fall into the peaceful serenity that sleep offered. Fingers threading through brown, curly locks rhythmically, Wirt felt his eyelids get heavy; like curtains they swept down, concealing charcoal eyes to the rest of the world and throwing him into darkness.

“Wirt…?” Came the hesitant, tiny croak from the bottom of the stairs. Wirt’s eyes fluttered open, pushing himself up on his elbows and crooning his head in the direction his name had been called. Standing by the stairs, one hand tightened on the beam of the stair’s railing, the other holding Jason Funderburker, the family’s pet frog (an odd choice for a pet) around his waist, a heating lamp cradled in the crook of his elbow, was Greg, Wirt’s younger brother.

“Greg? What are you doing up? Go back to sleep,” Wirt commanded gently. The little boy shook his head furiously though, followed by a soft sniffle. This noise caught Wirt’s attention and he pushed himself up further, movement disturbing Dipper, but Wirt knew he wouldn’t mind. “What’s wrong Greg? Are you okay?”

“…I had the dream again,” That was all that needed to be said. Despite two years having passed, sometimes the nightmares of the beast would return and plague the brother’s dreams.

“Do you want to cuddle with me and Dipper?” Wirt asked, and at his name being mentioned, Dipper sat up, smiling and nodding towards Greg when the boy still seemed hesitant to intrude on them.

With Dipper’s approval the boy raced over, gently placing Jason on coffee table. He then plugged the heating lamp into one of the open outlet’s of the extension cable, flicking the light on so his frog could get a peaceful night sleep as well. Once he was sure Jason was content, he squeezed between their chest, sandwiched in. Already he felt safe and secure as two pairs of arms wrapped around him protectively. A kiss to his temple, followed by his cheek being nuzzled with Dipper’s reminded Greg of the boy’s twin, who also had a habit of nuzzling his cheek with hers. This action made him giggle, and he felt the nightmares from earlier fade from his young mind. All he could think of now was the pair of heartbeats that were gently lulling him to sleep like a lullaby. Speaking of Lullaby.

“Wirt, will you sing the song?” he asked, timidly. Even though a few minutes ago his dreams had been plagued with memories of that world, he also knew that those adventures he experienced with his brother were more than just sad. There were happy memories too. And he wanted to be reminded of those.

“Which one Greg?” He knew that Greg wanted him to sing a song from that world, but he didn’t know which one Greg wanted specifically.

“The night song. The one you always sing at night for me. I don’t remember us ever hearing the song sung before, but you said when you first sang it, it reminded you of there. So sing that one.”

Ah yes, that one. Wirt liked that one. But Greg was right, he didn’t recall where the song had come from, only that when he first played it on his clarinet and then wrote the lyrics and sang it, that he got the odd sense of deja vu that he had heard it when they were in the unknown. He tightened his hold around Dipper and Greg, cleared his throat and began to sing the song.

‘Among the fields,

The straw and stover,

Clocked in,

Til the Workday is over.

Time’s a gentle stream,

Longer than it seems,

Patient is the night

How I long to see her face now,

Her starry moonlit gaze now,

I know she’s never late,

So anxiously I wait.

Patient is the night.’

Wirt interluded the next part with whistling. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the whistling was important to the song and could not be played otherwise. It just added something peaceful, and intimately autumn to the song.

‘I know she’s never late,

So anxiously I wait,

Patient is the night.’

By the end of the last verse, the rise and fall of two chest let Wirt know that his audience had successfully fallen asleep. With a happy smile, glad the lullaby had done it’s work, he nestled back down, his fingers now threading through two different heads of hair rhythmically. He whistled the tune to his song once more, as sleep claimed him. He couldn’t think of a place he’d rather be, than snuggled up with his two favorite boys.

‘I know she’s never late,

So anxiously I wait,

Patient is the night.’

Chapter Text

Title: Clumsy Couple

“Come on, please?”

“Aw no. They’re really dumb. I mean. Y-you wouldn’t want to hear it. Really! It’s so dumb.” Wirt twisted the hem of his sweater, stretching the cotton as he averted his eyes to his lap. They were sitting on his bed, getting ready for bed when Dipper had asked him to read one of his poems before bed.

“They’re not dumb! I love them. I love all of them. Come on Wirt! Please!!!” he tried again, flopping onto his belly, latching to the boy’s arm and pulling it closer. He pressed his cheek against the sleeve of the boy’s sweater, nuzzling his arm, then gazed up at him with a hopeful smile and pleading eyes. “Wirrrrt?”

Ugh, how could he say no to that stupid kitten he called his boyfriend?

With a defeated sigh he pulled his hand out of his boyfriend’s hold and reached over to his nightstand to grab his journal that was filled with his poems; drafts, scrapped works and finished pieces. “Alright, alright. Which one do you want to hear tonight?” he asked. This wasn’t the first time Dipper had asked, the first time he protested, or the first time he lost. Nor would it be the last.

Dipper smiled victoriously, flipping onto his back to get more comfortable, specifically by laying between his boyfriend’s legs, head on the poet’s chest. If there was one thing Dipper loved more than Wirt’s poems, it was the sound of Wirt’s heartbeat, because of how easy it was excitable. Like right now, as it picked up tempo because of their close proximity. Not that he could say his heart wasn’t doing the same. They both had rabbit hearts.

“Alright, how bout this one tonight?” Wirt asked, flipping to a page he was sure his boyfriend hadn’t heard yet. Even if it was one Dipper was familiar with, it wouldn’t matter. Dipper could hear the same poem again and again and never get sick of it.

‘Clumsy.

That’s the only word I can convey,

To express my nervous impulses,

To why I act this way.

Clumsy,

Is why my heart dares to skip a beat,

Why over awkward limbs I stagger,

Stumbling over my own two feet.

Clumsy,

Hands wet with perspiration,

I choke up when I think of intertwining yours and mine,

And lose myself in the anticipation.

Clumsy,

What meant to be Affections dribble out in Stutter,

Open mouth, insert foot,

What hopeless nonsense do I attempt to utter?

Clumsy,

Fumbling fingers,

Stretching fabric, pulling threads, scrunching cotton,

The sensation of skin I wish would linger.

Clumsy,

A chattering of clamorous teeth,

From fear or cold, protest or nerves,

As relentless and unqulled as my gastral seethe.

Clumsy,

You give me hopeless butterflies,

Weak kneed and flabbergasted,

A new day with you is always a surprise.

Clumsy,

Is the only words I can attest,

To my reasoning’s behind my actions,

To which you know the rest.

Clumsy,

You and me,

a tangle mess of limbs and sweaty hands,

Knowing I’m not alone in this fills me with unimaginable glee.

Clumsy,

Shaky whispers and promises in the dark,

With unsteady hands,

I reminisce the summer you carved our names in the bark.

Clumsy

We dance with our eyes to the ground,

Afraid to scuff shoes and break toes,

Despite our eyes begging to be found.

Clumsy,

I am clumsy, I shall concede,

But knowing I have someone to equal,

I can not help the sense of greed.

Close to me I pull you,

The temptation unable to resist

Will you dance with me my clumsy lover?

And share with me in this awkward bliss?’

Wirt closed the book, “Well?”

But Dipper had already nodded off, a content smile on his face. Wirt rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help a smile of his own from tugging at his lips. He placed the journal back on the nightstand and then carded his now free hand through the boys mop of curls. “You’re hopeless, my clumsy lover. But then…so am I.” He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on the top of Dipper’s head, before reaching over to turn off his lamp. Then he burrowed under the covers, trying not to wake the other boy, even though he knew he wouldn’t, and closed his eyes, arms tightening around the warm bundle curled up against him. It was not long before he fell asleep, dreaming of sweaty palms, nervous laughter coupled with whispered apologies as two teens tried to navigate around the dance floor, eyes to the ground.

But occasionally their eyes would meet, charcoal to hazel and a shy smile would be shared between the two lovers before they leaned forward, meeting the other halfway in a romantic kiss. It was awkward, It was clumsy.

It was their special love.

Chapter Text

Title: Hand Holding in the Dark

‘Okay Wirt this is getting ridiculous. He’s going to notice.’

Inside the darkened theater, Wirt mentally chastised himself as he tried to pay attention to what was on the screen and not the person sitting next to him, slurping his soft drink loudly. Wirt chanced a glance. The object of his affections was sitting right next to him, enraptured by the film. Wirt had asked him to come, picking a movie that the boy had been looking forward to since it’s release. The plot was lost on Wirt. It was suppose to be like a sci fi, mystery or something? He couldn’t follow the plot and so had checked out 10 minutes after the movie started.

So with nothing better to do, he spent the rest of the hour and 45 minute movie sneaking glances at his crush. He had asked Dipper to come, not exactly saying it was a date, but that was the intention. At least to him. He was sure Dipper didn’t know that. But that was alright. Even if the boy didn’t know this was a date, or realized the older boy’s feelings, Wirt was still happy with what he was getting out of this, date or not.

Dipper reacted to all the scenes, making little gasps at intense or surprising scenes, muttering under his breath, ‘I knew it’ when the protagonist figured something out that Dipper had figured out long before. His hands usually stayed clapped together, pressed against his slightly parted lips and Wirt couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He wondered, what it would feel like to kiss those slightly parted, probably buttery, lips against his own. He wondered what Dipper would taste like. Maybe popcorn, and Smittles (as that had been his choice of candy, which Wirt had gladly forked the money over even when Dipper protested it was too much). Maybe he’d even catch a hint of Pitt Cola, the soda he was currently drinking.

Realizing he was blatantly staring and that sooner of later the boy would notice and catch him, Wirt quickly averted his eyes to the arm rest. Dipper’s had dropped his hands earlier and now his right arm was currently occupying the rest, and just like the desire to press his lips to Dipper’s and figure out what he tasted like, Wirt also had a strong desire (maybe even stronger than kissing him) to hold the other boy’s hand. He chanced another quick glance at Dipper. The boy’s eyes were still glued to the screen, shoveling popcorn into his mouth with his other hand. He was so engrossed he hadn’t bothered to offer the popcorn or the candy to Wirt, but that was okay, Wirt wasn’t really in the mood for popcorn and candy anyway. He craved something sweeter.

But knowing he probably wasn’t going to get anything like that, he turned his eyes back to the unsuspecting arm. He wondered…?

‘No Wirt, don’t you dare do it. You’re already pushing it. You’re going to ruin your guy’s friendship. And do you really want that?’

No, Wirt didn’t. The last thing he wanted to do was spoil this day he was having with Dipper, and even more importantly, their friendship, all because he let his emotions get in the way. But he couldn’t help it. It was just sitting there. So innocent, just asking for him to hold it. Wirt wanted to so badly! Before he could stop himself, his arms began to lift without him being consciously aware. His hands, which had been balled into fist for the duration of the movie and were now clammy, unfurled. His fingers stretched out towards the hand, pinky finger just inches from the back of Dipper’s palm. His hand shook, wanting to draw closer, but he froze, his hand just staying suspended in the air, just awkwardly hovering inches from Dipper’s. His senses had returned to him and he found he couldn’t move any further.

He kept thinking about Dipper. How he would feel if Wirt did this. Would he be uncomfortable, angry, or confused? Would he immediately pull away, of hold Wirt’s hand out of pity for the boy, not wanting to hurt his feelings? No matter what, either option was bad, and Wirt didn’t want to see the outcome. Even with his strong desire, it wasn’t right to put Dipper in this awkward situation, nor was it right to spoil Dipper’s good mood because he tried to be confident.

Feeling insecure, and slightly deflated from bruising his own ego, Wirt turned his gaze away, staring miserably at the empty seat next to him. He began to move his hand away, fingers beginning to curl back in on themselves–

–When he felt something warm slip against his palm and curl around him. Jumping in surprise, he looked at his hand that was no longer occupied. Another hand was holding it. He followed the mysterious hand, tracing up the mysterious arm to meet a pair of hazel eyes staring right at him. Face burning scarlet, he swallowed thickly as he gazed at Dipper, who gazed right back. The light from the screen allowed Wirt to see the light blush dusted across the younger male’s cheeks. For a moment they just stared, unable to say anything, unable to even react. And then Dipper moved, his lips twitching into a shy smile around the straw of his soft drink, eyes crinkling as if to further the proof. Wirt stared, then felt himself smile back, just as shyly. Apparently, Dipper hadn’t only been paying attention to the movie. That, or Wirt had just left his hand up long enough to draw suspicion. Either way, he was kinda glad he had.

With the returned smile, Dipper turned back to the screen, his focus back to where he wanted it to be. To not seem anymore creepy, Wirt did the same. He promised he’d at least keep his eyes on the screen for the rest of the film, even though he had no clue what was going on. It didn’t matter. All he could think about was the soft, warm, and slightly sweaty (or was that butter) hand holding his. He couldn’t stop it. His lips slowly curved up into a smile, until he was grinning from ear to ear. His lips were going to hurt by the end of the day, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. He squeezed the hand tightly, and his smile widened (if that was possible) when he felt his hand squeezed in return.

He spent the rest of the movie smiling like a joyous idiot, squeezing the life out of Dipper’s hand the entire time, not caring what was going onscreen. He was sure he was probably hurting Dipper, and he’d had to apologize the next day for sure, but at the moment he just couldn’t control his smiling or the pressure his hand was exerting.

But unbeknownst to him, Dipper had checked out of the movie as well, only able to focus on his own joy, which was slowly bubbling up and wanting to boil over, and the tight hold on his hand (which wasn’t as tight as Wirt thought).

Chapter Text

Title: Shelter

“Oh no!”

“But Wirt!!!”

“No Dipper!”

“But he didn’t have a collar, and he was cowering behind a dumpster and just–look at him!!!”

“I’d had expected this from Mabel. Come on Dipper, this is the third time this week! You can’t keep bringing strays into our dorm. Someone’s eventually going to notice, and then the dean will come and we’ll get the boot! My parents will kill me if I get kicked out of the dormitories!” Wirt ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. He felt like he had this conversation one too many times before, and each time he found that he had lost the battle. But not this time. He was not going to roll over for his boyfriend. No pushover Wirt this time!

“But it’s just until we find them a home! Isn’t that right little one?” Dipper said, now addressing the bundle of fluff in his arms. It was a tiny calico kitten, though when Dipper first brought it home, Wirt had thought it was a bombay cat because the thing had been covered head to toe in black from dirt, garbage and soot. He also had reeked of rotten eggs when Dipper first carried him in. Now having gotten a bath, Dipper was currently drying the little furball with one of their towels, and he looked a lot better (smelled better too).

Realizing it was being addressed, the kitten let out a weak mewl, and Wirt felt his heartstrings tug. Dammit, no!

See? He’s just a temporary residence. Besides, would you I rather have left him by the dumpster. He’s just a baby. I mean, he wouldn’t have survived much longer if I hadn’t found him. Is that what you want? A dead kitten lying by the dumpster, his limbs getting torn apart by ravenous crows!?!” Dipper suddenly said, his voice rising with intensity. He was pulling the guilt card. Wirt hated when he pulled the guilt card.

“Oh course not! I’m glad you found him. Really I am!” He eyed the kitten again and realized the poor thing was malnourished. Swallowing, he felt his eyes get blurry, but quickly shook his head to rid himself of the impaired vision. He was not going to fall for Dipper’s trap. “But it’s not good to keep him here. He needs to go to people who are better situated for this. Like a shelter. There’s one not far from the university. We can feed him and then bring him over.” He at least wanted to get some food in the kitten’s belly, knowing the poor stray probably hadn’t had a decent meal in…who knew how long. Besides, he didn’t want to take a starving kitten to the shelter, after they had obviously went to the trouble of cleaning him. What kind of a person would bathe a cat and not offer at least a meal before bringing it to professional help?

“THE SHELTER!” Dipper jumped up, pulling the kitten closer to his chest as if Wirt was going to rip the thing from his hands. “No way, that place is a nightmare. He’ll be dead within months.”

“Dipper he’s a kitten, he’ll be adopted as soon as possible,” he rolled his eyes. That was always Dipper’s reason for not wanting to take one of the strays to the shelter, that they won’t get adopted and eventually be put down. Wirt was sure that a calico cat, after getting a little more food in him and returning to a healthier state, would be swooped up in no time. Along with the other animals as well. He didn’t believe that the shelter by his uni would actually kill any animals…he hoped. Damnit, his resolve was weakening, he had to think fast!

“Besides, I’m pretty sure this kitten needs medical help. We need to make sure he doesn’t have any diseases and that he won’t die from something we’re feeding him. He needs to go to people who can take care of him!”

“We can take him to the vet. We don’t need the permission of the shelter to get him checked out.” Dipper immediately countered, having figured Wirt was going to go this route. They had had this conversation…a lot.

“Oh! With what money? We’re broke college kids Dipper. We’re probably going to be swimming in debt by the end of the year! What money are you going to use to take this animal to the vet?” Wirt snapped, throwing his hands up in the air in exhaustion.

“I did it with the other one’s I can do it with this one too!” Dipper said, matter of factly. And Wirt knew he was right. He didn’t know how Dipper was able to take them to the vet and pay for it, be he was. He was sure Mabel was helping him on the side. Wirt sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes. He had a long day of classes and he was getting tired of trying to fight Dipper on this. His resolve was waning and he knew the final blow was coming. He steeled himself for it.

“Wirt, please…look at him, he needs us.” Wirt moved his hands away from his eyes and stared down at the kitten still in the towel. The Kitten blinked back at him, letting out another feeble meow, stretching out it’s tiny paw to bat at the air. The gesture made him chuckle. The thing was adorable, and really did need someone to take care of him. And he couldn’t help imaging the kitten in a cold steel cage if left at the shelter (an image Dipper had happily painted for him). He stepped closer, reaching out to scratch the kitten between it’s ears. It let out a happy purr. And there was the nail in his coffin.

“Just until we find him a home?” Wirt repeated.

Dipper beamed, knowing he had won, “Just until we find him a home!” Dipper promised.

Wirt sighed, then looked around their small dorm at all the animals currently residing there for the time being (3 other cats, one Jack Russel, & a little cockatoo with clipped wings (obviously showing it had once been domesticated) that had been abandoned by the side of the road. He didn’t know whether it was intentional or the bird had simple gotten out, so the two had made missing posters and put them up around town. No bites yet though, so Wirt was starting to think it had been intentional, especially when the bird would repeat phrases like ‘shut up bird’ and ‘you’re so annoying’.

All these animals his boyfriend had rescued. He couldn’t say he hated it, the thought of any of these animals dying if Dipper hadn’t shown up broke Wirt’s heart, even more so when he thought about all the animals Dipper couldn’t save. He turned back to his boyfriend, feeling his heart swell with pride and affection. “You really love playing hero, don’t you?” is what he said, but inside he meant ‘You really are a hero, aren’t you?’

Dipper smiled up at him, “Yeah, I guess I do.” he admitted, his eyes shining with the same affection, though Wirt didn’t deserve that look. He was the one constantly protesting when Dipper brought another one home. How could Dipper give him a look that he didn’t deserve.

“We should feed him. The poor thing’s probably starving.” Wirt coughed, turning away to get Dipper to stop looking at him that way. He headed for the closet, crouching and pulling up the pile of clothes to reveal an assortment of cat food and dog food (Mabel, Sara, Bea & Jason all pitching in to help pay as they already knew about Dipper’s Mission. Hell–Mabel was helping to harbor a few strays of her own). He picked up the wet cat food and closed the closet door.

“You’re kind of a hero too,” Dipper said as Wirt was using their can opener to open the cat food. Wirt stopped mid turn, ignoring the cats that had gathered on his work desk when they saw the food to turn to glare at Dipper.

“I’m no hero, not really. I just…I don’t want them to be cold and hungry is all,” he quickly turned back to his task at hand, trying to hide the growing blush.

Dipper walked over, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Wirt’s head, “I love you…” Dipper whispered.

“S-shut up, or I’ll bring you to the shelter instead,” Wirt threatened. His stupid kitten.

Dipper laughed, pressing another kiss to Wirt’s forehead as he let out a playful meow. The other cats meowed back at him, causing Dipper to laugh harder and Wirt to roll his eyes.

–-

They eventually found homes for all the pets, and Wirt admitted, as Dipper carried in a new stray, that he was glad that he always lost these battles. Because that meant these animals were able to be around other people and eventually find homes. College students had a lot of chances to make connections, so even when one animal was brought in, another animal was going to a new home.

Yes all the animals were finding homes, and though he hated to part when the time came, he was glad to see them off, going to live good lives with college student’s family members and friends, and even some students themselves who had their own apartments.

Except for one animal, which the couple had agreed to care for. Wirt looked over his shoulder at the white cockatoo staring at the poem he was composing. Wirt found he couldn’t part with this one, for some reason, and he had grown a strong attachment to the bird who after of month of hoping an owner would claim her, they had to conclude she had been abandoned.

“What do you think?” he asked, holding the paper up for the bird to read. She cocked her head left and right, then chirped happily and ruffled her feathers.

‘Beautiful, Beautiful,” She cawed. Wirt smiled. He had been teaching her to replace her old phrases with words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘pretty bird’ instead, and he was happy to see it was working.

“Yeah I think so too.” he said, petting the bird on her head. She didn’t make a lot of noise, so they never worried about someone coming down to check up on them because of noise complaints (honestly he and Dipper were louder than the bird) so she had remained safe in their dorm. Even when they left, their bird was usually very well-mannered, probably used to being neglected in the past and having little human contact. Not that he would ever do that.

Not only that, but he had allowed her wings to grow again, so she would be able to fly freely. “Wanna go for a walk, and spread your wings?” he asked and she responded with a happy squeal and a flourish of her wings, flapping them slightly to show him she was ready. Wirt laughed and got to him feet. “Good, I could use a stretch too. Come on Beatrice, let’s go!” he said, heading for the door.

His red headed best friend had not been too thrilled when she learned the name Wirt had given the bird.