Chapter Text
Bill smiled down at Dipper, his fingers carding through the boy’s tangled brown hair. The younger teen had fallen asleep while they were watching a film, and with Dipper’s face pressed against Bill’s chest and his arm around the blond’s waist, it would be absolutely criminal for the demon to try and move.
His fingers ghosted over the shell of Dipper’s ear, and the younger of the two shifted slightly, his hand fisting in the other’s shirt and his leg winding itself around one of Bill’s. With a small chuckle, Bill swept the messy fringe out of Dipper’s eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the boy’s sleeping face. Bill had visited Dipper in his dreams more times than he cared to count, little had he known that the real show was taking place on the outside of the kid’s head. With Dipper’s nose wrinkled at the bridge as it was crushed against Bill, his lashes casting shadows down slightly chubby cheeks and his lips lightly parted, a sigh of a breath puffing out every now and then, Bill was starting to see why Mabel always insisted that her twin resembled a kitten.
Bill’s hand fell down the side of Dipper’s head, fingers brushing down his neck and moving back up to stroke against Dipper’s jaw. With the way they were now, Dipper laid out vulnerably before him, no one in the house to stop him, Bill thought about how easy it would be to snap his Pine Tree’s neck. How quickly he could snuff out the only thing standing in his way. Something about the thought made his free fist clench, and he frowned down at it. Stupid human emotions, he thought, stopping me from killing cute things.
“B-Bill?” A sweet, sleepy voice mumbled.
Bill looked down at the boy. His eyes were still shut, his breathing steady, though not as slow as it had been a moment ago. Dipper’s cheeks were slightly flushed, and against his stomach Bill felt that the boy’s heart was beating especially fast.
“Bill?” Dipper mumbled again, his fist tightening around Bill’s shirt and his forehead creasing with worry.
Bill chuckled, “Yes, Pine Tree?”
Dipper seemed to relax at the other’s voice, his hand unwinding from Bill’s shirt in favour of pressing tightly against his back, drawing himself closer to the blond man. “Mmm,” Dipper moaned, dark brown eyes flicking about rapidly behind their lids. A moment passed, and then quietly Dipper sighed, “I love you, Bill.”
Bill blinked once. Then twice. Despite being quiet, it was easy to make out. Not so easy to process, however.
Dipper had just said he loved him.
Bill felt the urge to laugh at how stupid he’d been, and at how obvious Dipper had been. How hadn’t he noticed it before? The way Dipper’s eyes followed him when the boy thought Bill wasn’t looking, the way his hands always lingered against his skin a second longer than they had to, the way Mabel always found an excuse to get out of plans the three had so that it was just Dipper and Bill.
It had been so, so obvious.
Bill smirked down at Dipper – he could have some fun with this.
And yet, in that moment, Dipper wriggled his nose, nuzzling his forehead into Bill’s chest, and the blond couldn’t help the surge of fondness rising in his chest. Bill frowned – that was new. Dipper mumbled something incoherent, his hand traveling from the demon’s back to press against his stomach, and Bill felt warmth blossom out from where Dipper’s hand was poised.
Bill was hit by an overwhelming urge to- He grinned. He had never been one to ignore an overwhelming urge before. Shuffling down, Bill wriggled until he and Dipper were at eye level, and without thinking too much about it he pressed his lips against Dipper’s, just to see what it was like. He didn’t expect the sudden warmth that radiated through him. It started at his lips and slowly made its way through his whole body, a mix of heat and tingling and sparking and wanting. He moved a hand to press against Dipper’s cheek, the other winding around the boy’s waist, just like he’d read about in the books he found under Shooting Star’s bed.
He stayed there for a few seconds – not moving, feeling nothing but the warmth of the skin pressed against his own, and he sighed out of his nose, eyes fluttering open and-
Dipper was staring at him.
Bill leaned back quickly, eyes scanning over the brunet’s features, searching for some kind of reaction. Dipper looked shocked, but there was no fear in his eyes, and Bill would have breathed a sigh of relief if it weren’t for the lips being suddenly pressed against his own.
“Mmph!” Bill exclaimed in surprise, eyes widening as Dipper’s arms wound their way around his neck. Bill recoiled, and he fell off the sofa, dragging Dipper down with him, the boy landing on Bill’s chest. Their lips never parted. Dipper bit Bill’s lip, and the blond’s lips parted in surprise, his eyes clamping shut at the feeling of something wet push past them and prod curiously against his tongue. Pressure was building up in his throat, and he wasn’t sure if the sensation was pleasant or not. Slowly, he brought his hands up to Dipper’s shoulders and pushed on them until the boy’s face was a few inches from his own.
Dipper’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated and cheeks flushed, his breath coming in short gasps. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but made no move to get up.
Bill just stared at him. What could he say? It’s okay? So am I? I’ll forgive you if you just do that again? He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to rid the boy’s eyes of the embarrassment that was slowly bleeding into the brown, but nothing came out. “Uh,” Bill drawled, his expression probably the dumbest it had been since Moses had asked him for the Promised Land, and he blinked up at the boy. “Wow, you and your sister kiss way differently!” He finally settled on saying.
The look of horror that fell on to Dipper’s face was enough to have Bill cracking up, and when Dipper realised he was joking he glared (read: pouted) down at him. His anger soon subsided to relief, and something else, however, and Dipper took a deep breath before starting. “Bill, I-”
Bill pressed a finger to Dipper’s lips, “Shhh, Pine Tree,” he interrupted, and moved his hand from Dipper’s mouth to the side of his neck, pulling him down slowly. “Not done yet.”