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English
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Published:
2016-11-24
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1,524
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1/1
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Stuffing the Turkey

Summary:

Bill and Dipper get stuck at home for the holiday thanks to the weather. With nothing else to do, they decide to have some fun.

Notes:

Well, if you're still here after reading those tags, then congrats. I hope you're prepared for this short, sweet, funny, stupid, sin.

Not edited because holidays fucking suck and I don't have the time.

Hope y'all at least get a laugh outa this.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

A thick blanket of snow covered the outside world, marble sized snowflakes still falling onto the pile of off-white sky dander. The air was cold, the sky was dark, and the wind was whistling like a forgotten kettle. Cars were buried in driveways, their doors and windows probably frozen shut, needing to be pried open like a bear trap in the morning.

That all wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that the sky-puke caused Dipper and Bill’s flight back home to be canceled faster than a shitty TV show after its first season.

“This fucking blows, ” Bill whined. He dropped dramatically onto their couch like a man who had just been shot and let out a puff of air. “Now I won’t be able to eat any of Mabel’s potatoes.”

Dipper sat next to him and rolled onto his side so that he was facing Bill. “Trust me, she’s probably made enough for us to have when we do manage to make it down there. We might miss the big dinner, but we’ll be there for the leftovers.”

Bill turned his head and gave him a bored look, his face about as enthusiastic as a student before a test. “Yeah,” he drawled, “you’re right.” His unamused look went from stale to sly in less than a second, his lips turning upwards in a cat-like smirk. “This doesn’t mean we can’t do our own turkey stuffing this Thanksgiving, though.”

The brunet blinked at Bill, his eyes narrowing at his boyfriend. “What do you mean?”

In one swift movement, Bill was straddling Dipper, pinning him to the couch like a cat that just caught its favorite toy.

He moved his face right next to Dipper’s and his grin grew wider. “I mean, I can use my baster to stuff this turkey with some juices,” he said a low voice.

“You’re cheesy, get off,” Dipper laughed. He tried to nudge Bill away, but his golden-haired man-child of a boyfriend refused to budge.

“Cheese goes great with turkey.” He licked from Dipper’s collarbone to his cheek, his tongue slicking the area with his strangely sticky saliva. “The snow fucked us out of Mabel’s cooking, so we’re going to fuck while it snows.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, unable to hide his growing smile. “Fine, you win. Let’s go into the bedroom first, though. We don’t need to get those ‘juices’ all over the living room.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Bill stood and promptly scooped Dipper up in his arms, lifting the smaller man with ease in a bridal style hold. He hugged Dipper close as he walked and hummed. “I’m going to enjoy this Thanksgiving meal,” he said in a husky voice.

“Don’t get too excited. We don’t want your baster spraying any of the juices before we get to the stuffing.” Dipper tapped him on the nose and laughed when the blond sneered at him.

“That’s never happened once. I always make sure you cum first and you know it.” He opened their bedroom door and moved to the bed smoothly, clearly a man on a mission. That mission being to get into Dipper’s pants and making awful jokes about it the entire time.

Dipper was fine with that, though. He would join in on the joke so long as he found it funny. “I know. You’re a great chef that knows how to properly prepare and cook meat.”

Bill laid Dipper on the bed like a prized doll, his large grin never leaving his face. He was ecstatic that Dipper was playing along. “This chef is going to make sure this Thanksgiving turkey is well done, inside and out.”

Their pants, shirts, and boxers fell to the floor with soft thuds as the two of them stripped as if they were earning money for it. Bill was always more showy than Dipper, but the brunet had his fair share of teasing moments when he would playfully bite his lip while peeling his pants off.

“Not even the president could pardon this turkey from being stuffed,” Bill chuckled as he positioned himself over a now naked Dipper. “I’ve never had to shake a baster for the juices to come out, but I need this meat to be nice and juicy. Dry turkey is just lame.” He sighed and looked down at Dipper, his sexual enthusiasm dying down a bit. “Damn it, now I’m thinking about Mabel’s cooking again, and not in the sexual sense. ...Though I’m sure we could put her gravy-”

“Stop, please, holy fuck just fuck me. We are not using real food for this,” Dipper laughed. “I’ll cook you something when we’re done, but get your mind out of the kitchen and into the bed for right now.”

Bill shook his head left to right, his longish hair flipping about like a metal fan at a killer concert. “Right, sorry. Gotta juice the inside of this turkey and make it nice and moist.” He licked Dipper again, that time stopping to nibble on his earlobe.

Dipper keened and lifted his hips off the bed, shaking his ass back and forth. “Don’t tease the meat, just baste it already.”

“Ah-ah, gotta tenderize it,” he whispered in his ear.

Chills ran up Dipper’s spine and he internally shrugged. If Bill wanted to do a little bit of foreplay, then that was fine.

The blond continued to leave little bites and licks on Dipper’s neck, occasionally sucking on a spot to get a loud gasp from the brunet. By the time he was finished marking Dipper up, they were both hard and leaking precum, ready to get on with fucking, rather than just grinding their hips into each others.

“I’m going to make sure these juices get nice and deep, just to be sure that I have the moistest turkey possible. Too bad we don’t have any cranberry flavored lube.” Bill lined himself up with Dipper’s entrance, using his thumb to slick up the tip of his cock with his precum. “Either way, though, you’re used to taking my baster, so we don’t really need it.”

“Maybe we’ll get some peppermint for Christmas, should we get stuck on that day too.” Dipper moved his hips with Bill’s when the blond pushed into him, whining loudly like a dog in heat. When Bill was fully inside him, he hooked his legs around the blond to encourage movement.

“I’ll gladly suck on your candy cane, Pine Tree.” Bill sat up and pulled Dipper up a bit with him, one hand resting on the brunet’s hip and the other going to his cock. “But for now, let’s get to covering this turkey in its own juices.” His hand started to pump in time with his hips, going to the base of Dipper’s cock every time his hips snapped forward.

Dipper let his upper body go lax but kept his legs wrapped around Bill, drool beginning to leak out of the corners of his mouth as he stuck out his tongue to pant. Bill never went slow, always grinding into Dipper with a fast and rough pace right off the bat, but it was perfectly fine with Dipper. Once he got used to it, he began to enjoy it, and would just lie back and let the blond take care of him.

Bill’s hand gripped him a little tighter, a particularly loud moan coming from the brunet at the action. “My turkey likes to be squeezed,” Bill laughed. He rammed his hips forward roughly and held them there for a moment to watch Dipper squirm under him.

“Yes, yes, fuck, Bill more!” His hands gripped the sheet and his jaw clenched shut, his eyes rolling back as if he were having a demon exorcised from him. The knot in his gut was already feeling like it was close to bursting, and he was letting Bill know with whiny keening.

“More to come. After all, I have to make sure my turkey is well done.” He began moving his hips again, his hand still pumping Dipper’s dripping cock.

The pressure growing in Dipper reached its boiling point when Bill let out a groan of his own, and a wave of heat rushed over Dipper’s body as goosebumps bubbled up on his skin. He felt himself twitch in Bill’s hand before his hot cum sprayed over himself, coating his stomach and chest with it.

Bill groaned again when he looked down at his messy boyfriend, his own cum soon filling the brunet. He leaned forward and licked up some of the cum from Dipper’s stomach. “Mm, juicy. Though, this looks more like frosting than turkey baste. Does that mean we just had dessert and not the main course?”

Dipper shrugged and huffed, still trying to catch his breath. “We had both,” he laughed. “But if you want, we can definitely go again as a dessert.” He playfully licked his lips and lidded his eyes.

“ Absolutely. ” He kissed Dipper’s nose and smiled softly. “You’re better than Mabel’s cooking,” he said softly.

“Aw, you cheese ball.” He kissed Bill back and nuzzled his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Pine Tree.”

Notes:

I'm not sorry.