Chapter Text
Dipper’s pretty sure what’s going to happen
Right now, Bill's standing in front of him, hands on his hips. Amused, and interested.
Dipper tries his fire again, but it’s not working like it should. The monster who made these is ash - but whatever these vines are made out of, they’re not as flammable as their creator.
“So…” Dipper lets the word trail off. He tries to reach out, but the vines tighten on his arms. “A little help here?”
Bill’s gaze draws over him slowly. One eyebrow goes up. “I dunno, Pine Tree.” he shrugs, looking nonchalant. “I’m not seeing the problem.”
And there it is. Dipper doesn’t know why he bothered asking.
For being an ancient horrific demon filled with terrible secrets, tricks, and knowledge - Bill is still a person. Not a human person, but he’s a guy, of sorts. Know any guy for long enough, and they get predictable.
Bill, for example, is always an unhelpful jerk.
“You’re an asshole,” Dipper states, pointing at his jackass.
Bill tilts his head to one side. “So?” Still smirking, still smug. “Complain all you like, kid. Neither of us are going anywhere.”
Dipper already sees where this is going. Before Bill can add another comment, he kicks, and twists, and pulls. Like the last time he tried, the vines only tighten at his struggles. The upside of his effort is that one of his hands is free.
The downside is he’s upside down now, dangling by his ankles, and Bill’s still grinning at him.
Dipper lets his arms - well, arm - drop. His knuckles brush against the ground.
“Welp, guess that’s it! You’re caught.” BIll strides closer and pats Dipper on the thigh, hand sliding up - or is it down? - to his hip. “Nothing we can do about it.”
This isn’t just ‘unhelpful’, it’s worse. This particular trap leaves him at Bill’s mercy, and the demon finds that deeply interesting. Thus turning him actively unhelpful.
Which is Dipper’s cue to work around him.
While Bill pets his thigh, distracted, eye narrowed, thinking of something that Dipper doesn’t care to speculate on - Dipper is forming a plan.
Okay. Bill’s a jerk, and unhelpful. But he’s indirectly helpful sometimes. In this instance, it’s because he’s carrying some of Dipper’s extra stuff, including -
Dipper reaches out, and hauls Bill in by the waist. It’s basically at eye-level, upside down like this.
“Hello.” Bill takes another step forward, glancing down. Dipper fumbles around his thigh, pats at his hip. “That’s a pretty bold move from you, kid.”
Dipper shoves his hand into Bill’s pocket, digging around until he finds what he’s looking for, and pulls out the pocketknife. The blade flicks out in one quick motion.
“I take it back.” Bill rolls his eye. “Every day you find new ways to disappoint.”
“Same to you.” Dipper responds. Not his best retort, but whatever. He starts cutting through the vines. They’re flame-proof, but not blade-proof.
Bill folds his arms over his chest, muttering something inaudible as Dipper hits the ground with a thud. The air is driven out of his chest, he coughs.
This went a bit sideways. Not his best showing.
If nothing else, though, that monster’s gone. Dipper can console himself with that. That means the murders will stop. It’s a net win.
Bill leans over him, arching an eyebrow. “As long as I’m indulging your,” He makes finger quotes, “‘Savior’ complex,” His eye rolls in its socket so hard it might fall out. “I should probably mention you’re not done here.” He waves over the foliage riddling the cave. “Might wanna torch the bushes before this guy grows back.”
“What?” Dipper sits up, chest heaving. Doing that once was bad enough. “Seriously?”
“‘What’, he asks.” Bill buffs his nails against his shirt, then examines them. “He’s a plant, kid. I only mention it ‘cause I know how you’ll get if you don’t solve the murder ‘issue’.” He makes finger quotes again, giving Dipper a derisive look. “You’re welcome.”
Dipper finds his feet, and leans over. He braces his hands on his knees, still catching his breath.
He’s barely started his ‘career’, such as it is, and he’s already exhausted.
God, how does Ford do his work? Monsters are terrible, but demons are worse. Dipper knows that for a fact.
“You’re… observant,” He mutters, patting vaguely at the worst demon. If he’d missed that detail, things could have gone poorly. “Thanks. For something.”
Bill snorts, waving him off. “Eh, sooner or later you woulda spotted it the obvious. I'll spare myself the headache.”
Dipper grabs onto his awful demonic husband’s arm, and uses Bill to haul himself upright.
Maybe a half-hearted warning barely counts, but he can’t deny that it was there.
He pats Bill on the back, then. Maybe rubs it a little. Maybe he drags his nails over Bill’s spine, and scratches up and down his back, especially under his left shoulderblade.
Bill’s eye flutters, he lets out a hum - until he smirks. “Ha! Nice try, Pine Tree. If this is your idea of a reward, it’s basically nothing.” He jabs Dipper in the side, amused. “Put a little more body into it.”
“So I should try, then.” Dipper says. Lying doesn’t work on Bill, manipulation fails, but Bill loves physical sensation. He grabs onto Bill’s shirt. “Resist this.”
Bill starts laughing, harder than usual. He even gives Dipper a shove, holding his face a teasing inch away. “Watch me.”
To give Bill credit, he does resist the kiss.
For a full five seconds.
-----------------
Dipper thinks about it later, tapping at his phone.
Each time Dipper finds himself in a semi-compromised position, Bill makes suggestive comments, or gets a little handsy. Not to mention the ‘jokes’ that are just this side of transparently obvious, and while that might have been a double-bluff if Bill’d done it once, it’s happened multiple times by now.
Once you know Bill well enough, it’s obvious when he’s come up with a plan. Dipper catches them nine times out of ten these days. Sometimes the same instant Bill comes up with them.
That’s not quite the case this time.
Bill’s not up to something.
He’s into something.
And though they’ve been sleeping together since - well, before they were officially ‘together’ - For some reason, Bill hasn’t mentioned it yet.
Dipper drops his phone to his chest, and sighs. The game Mabel suggested isn't working as a distraction, he should have downloaded something else when he had the chance. The Mindscape has a lot of mysteries, magic, and quote-unquote ‘wonders’. Data plans aren’t one of them.
Right now, Bill’s off doing ‘business’, as the Master of the Mindscape. And while Dipper does have an invite to the latest ‘shindig’, the idea of spending a night on demon ‘politics’ makes Dipper want to jump into the infinite dream-void outside.
That leaves Dipper lounging, alone, in the heart of the Fearamid, with precious little else to do but dick around on his phone. He’s not touching Bill’s books again, some of them bite.
Dipper raises his arms above his head, turning them around.
There weren’t any thorns on the vines, tight as they were. The marks are only now fading. He grips his own wrist, squeezing it gently.
It’s bothering him, because - well, Bill’s usually direct about what he wants in bed. He’s talked Dipper into - and through - more things than he can count, he’s the opposite of shy. Demanding, actually, and while Dipper doesn’t mind, it makes this more confusing.
It’s not like Bill’s being subtle.
Mostly, Dipper’s annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner. He usually catches onto what Bill wants well before it gets obvious.
How did he miss this one for so long?
If nothing else, it would explain why Bill loves pinning him down so much.
Dipper sits up on the bed, and swings his legs over the edge of the mattress.
The theory’s not confirmed. There aren’t many ways to confirm it. Dipper can’t exactly check Bill’s browsing history, or ask any of his exes, if those even exist. If he asks Bill, he’ll outright lie.
The bedroom’s subtly different every time Dipper’s been here. Bill’s place changes with his whims, rearranging to his wants. Possibly with his very thoughts.
So… If he is planning something, it’d be part of those. It should, in theory, manifest itself.
Right here, in the center of Bill Cipher’s bedroom, in the very center of the Mindscape. The very center of the Fearamid -
Dipper has time to figure out what Bill’s really after.
He quickly checks their bond - but no, it’s fine. Bill’s still doing ‘business’, which comes with a high chance of margaritas. It could be hours before he’s back.
Time to investigate.
The fireplace, the painting, and the bed are constant. There’s a sometimes piano, and a maybe closet. Things flicker into and out of existence here, based on pure will. The ornaments, the furniture - He does a quick double take.
That dresser hasn’t been there before.
Dipper kneels, feeling a little awkward - but hey, Bill invades his privacy all the time, turnabout is fair play. He starts pulling open drawers.
The ones labeled ‘Bowties’, ‘Hats’, and ‘Nightmares’, all contain the predictable, but the bottom drawer - that one is labeled ‘Socks’.
Bill’s real form doesn’t wear socks. Got him.
Dipper pulls it out, sharply enough that the drawer comes out entirely. Socks spill over the floor.
So much for that plan. Dipper rummages around anyway, for the hell of it. Socks, really? Searching for answers has only led to more questions. Story of being with Bill, he guesses.
At the last moment, his fingers trace the edges of something hard, it slides along the bottom. Dipper hesitates - then pulls it out.
The box is small, and black, with yellow trim. It’s just a little broader and wider than Dipper’s palm. While the mark on the top has a few angles, it’s not a triangle.
One of Dipper's eyebrows goes up. ‘Pine Tree’ must be pretty literal, in Bill’s mind.
Hiding a decorative box with this mark on it. Honestly, if they weren’t already married, Dipper would assume the obvious.
The tiny golden clasp on the box isn’t locked. Dipper flicks it open, and raises the lid.
A coil of something black - is it leather? - unloops as he pulls the thing out. It dangles from his hand, soft and slick over his knuckles. It trails against the floor, pooling in a loose circle.
Dipper rubs the triangle-shaped tag between his finger and thumb, face heating up.
Okay.
That’s… definitely something.
This must be why Bill hasn’t mentioned anything, he obviously expects Dipper to be offended. He wouldn’t be wrong, either, it’s - Bill can’t control Dipper, even though he’d love to, has tried to, would still try, if he thought he stood a chance - but Dipper’s never let Bill have that kind of power over him. Not one bit.
He keeps rubbing the golden tag between his fingers.
There’s a sudden tug against their bond - Bill, checking where he is, he’s heading back from the party -
Dipper swears, and scrambles into action.
When Bill finally bursts back in, the door slams open, loud. “ There you are!”
Dipper nudges the drawer again with his foot, and it finally clicks back into its rightful place. “Oh. Hey.”
“Well, well, well, well, well,” Bill says, stalking closer, less than gracefully. “Well.” He clasps his hands on Dipper’s shoulders, leaning against him. “Right where I expected you.”
Dipper breathes a sigh of relief. With a few drinks in play, the dresser thing almost certainly escaped notice.
He kicks the last remaining sock under the bed, to boot. “I said I’d wait for the party to be over.”
“You’d have a lot more fun if you came to the party,” Bill complains. His head rests against Dipper’s, leaning heavily against his back. “Kid, you could have way more excitement in your life!” A finger prods Dipper on the cheek. “Be less uptight.”
Dipper shrugs. There’s a lot he’s ‘uptight’ about, maybe, but he has reasons. There’s a lot he hasn’t been told.
“What, no retort?” Bill pulls away, sounding curious.
“I’ve, uh.” Dipper shrugs. “Been thinking.” He rubs his hands down his thighs, trying to dry his sweating palms.
“Hey, whatd’ya know? You’re not the only guy who’s had a thought in his impenetrable,” Bill’s finger prods Dipper’s temple, “Fortress-like,” Another prod. “Annoying head.”
That old complaint. Dipper shrugs it off. “What’s your idea?”
“Unlike some guys I had to incinerate today, I know mortals pretty well.” Bill says, with a grandeur that fails, with the way he’s sliding his hand over Dipper’s sides. “All those centuries in their minds means I know all the things they want.”
Dipper stands up straight. “Oh, uh,” He glances over his shoulder - then stares forward again. “Is that… so.”
The coil of leather in Dipper’s pocket doesn’t change temperature, but his awareness of it burns bright.
“You know I know!” Bill snorts. He plants a kiss on Dipper’s shoulder, on his neck. He steers Dipper towards the bed. “I don’t need to read your mind to know exactly what’ll sate your secret mortal desires.”
Dipper stumbles along with him, shoulders tense. “I - Really?” He’s not sure if that’s true - but oh god, what if it is.
Bill’s been right before, about weirder things, but there’s barely been time to think about - there’s too much to think about. Though in this area, Bill’s never been too bad. It might be bad. It might be good, Really good, possibly, maybe it’ll be like that daydream he had -
Dipper’s thoughts run overtime as he’s shoved back onto the bed.
There’s Bill, looming over him. Grinning, as he slides onto the sheets.
“Wait.” Dipper sits up at the last instant, heart pounding, and Bill stills in place. Dipper plants a hand on Bill’s chest, and feels a slow thump under his palm. His mouth feels dry. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, please. You’re my mortal!” Bill holds a hand to his chest, proud. “Like I don't know exactly what to do with you by now.”
“Okay?” Dipper barely gets the word out before he’s hauled down.
He’s roughly hauled into position, without warning. Bill manhandles him until he’s forced to do exactly as the demon insists, his grip tight as they both go horizontal.
Dipper stays in place for a moment. He pats a hand on Bill’s stomach.
Then he looks up and stares at Bill’s neck, the only thing he can easily see without moving.
“See? Got you right where you wanted,” Bill says, with no small amount of triumph. His hand rubs Dipper’s back, in slow circles. His smile is sharp, teeth bared. "I’m the guy who really knows what’s up.”
Demons don’t do the same things humans do. They argue instead of flirting, they hate instead of - that other thing. What seems weird to a demon is -
“I…” Wasn’t expecting this, Dipper doesn’t say. Whatever happened at the party, it made Bill want to prove a point. And he was right. In a way. “You do know a lot about mortals.”
It’s the first time Bill’s initiated this kind of thing without complaining. Dipper finds he’s moving into it without intending to, wrapping his arms around Bill in turn.
Bill nudges him, prompting. Wiggling an eyebrow up where Dipper can't see it, almost certainly.
“Fine. You’re right,” Dipper admits, with a certain amount of chagrin. Fuck it, Bill can have this one win. He settles down and god, Bill’s amazingly comfortable when he’s not tense. Dipper lets out a sigh, and keeps his voice quiet as he says, “I wanted this.”
Bill makes a pleased sound. His head hits the pillow. Dipper shuffles closer, and relaxes for a while. Bill’s really warm.
...He gets to relax for quite a while.
“Bill?” Dipper tries to prop himself up, to look up, but the grip on his back is clamped demonically tight. He barely moves an inch.
Bill snorts, eye shut. He mutters something incomprehensible.
...He’s sleeping off his partying. Because of course he is.
Dipper breathes in slow, and out again, drumming his fingers against Bill’s side. Underneath his arm, he faintly feels a heart beating.
Great. Perfect. Good for Bill. Sleep sure is great, isn’t it.
Dipper flips his awful husband off with one hand, thumping him on the side with the other, feeling exasperated, and… the usual, as well. “I’m going to kick your ass, jerk.”
Beneath him, Bill lets out a low, pleased sound. It rumbles, inhuman, for a moment - until his head falls to one side.
Bill starts snoring.
“Damn it.” Dipper mutters, annoyed and fond. He cups Bill’s face, and turns it upright. The snoring gets quieter, while the arm over his back squeezes tight.
Dipper leans into it. It’s only a matter of time until Bill wakes up. Until he’s sobered up. It’s going to be a long few hours, stuck here until Bill’s abnormal body processes the work of his ‘business meeting’.
Of the too-many times Dipper’s been trapped by a supernatural being, though, this one is far from the worst.
Bill rolls onto his side, muttering something into Dipper’s hair. Dipper pats his back a couple times. Bill can still be surprising.
Little does he know his real surprise isn’t going to go the way he thinks. They’ve known each other too long, and learned each other too well. Dipper not only figured it out, he found evidence.
It’s digging into his thigh at this very moment, in a loose coil.
Bill wants Dipper tied down, and a leash around his neck. Dipper knows to the exact degree, how smug Bill would be once he pulled that off. Grinning down at Dipper, as he drew the leash taut. His other hand gripping his hair, pulling his head back. Baring his throat.
Dipper rubs at his neck. He shifts his hips away from Bill, rolls onto his back.
Bill follows his movement, muttering something into Dipper’s hair.
Because of course he does. Even unconscious, when Bill wants something, he pursues it to the end - and once he gets it, he wants even more.
If Bill got what he wanted. If he could do whatever he wanted -
Dipper rolls fully away from Bill, clearing his throat. The movement, and Bill’s predictability, means Dipper ends up being the little spoon with the full, heavy weight of a demon pressed against his back.
...He’s pretty sure Bill is drooling into his hair.
Dipper grabs his phone, and concentrates on how these digital unicorns need feeding, and how to complete the collections. He’ll show Mabel up this time.
It’s a couple hours until he feels Bill stretch behind him. The arms around him tense in a different way, the fingers rub on his stomach.
Then he feels Bill twitch, full-bodied, as realization strikes.
Dipper ignores it. He’s almost got the golden four-star unicorn. Mabel's going to be jealous. “Hey, Bill.”
He can feel the tension building behind him.
Bill, awake. His eye, likely twitching. Not able to move without inviting comment. Anticipating a comment.
One that Dipper’s not going to provide. He pats Bill’s hand, and snuggle viciously back against him. Some things are ammo in their eternal game - but other things aren’t.
Dipper’s not making this one of them.
“That was nice,” He adds. Bill’s been frozen in place for long enough. Then, “Not sleeping still sucks, by the way.”
“Bleh.” Bill, spitting out some of Dipper’s hair. He clears his throat. “In all fairness, sapling,” He extricates his arm from under Dipper, sounding arch. “I wasn’t expecting you to survive that.” He flicks the back of Dipper’s head. “You’re more durable than some cockroaches I’ve known.”
“Thanks, I think.” Dipper feels Bill sit up, and hears his annoyed sound as he notices they’re both fully dressed. “You only like me because I’m unkillable.”
“Ha!” Bill snorts, leaning over. He turns Dipper to face him. “That, Pine Tree, hasn’t been fully tested yet.” He pats him on the chest. “You’ve only qualified for ‘pretty difficult’ status. You gotta survive at least ten more deathtraps before you hit ‘annoyingly difficult’.”
“I think I’m good.” Dipper holds up his hands. “‘Pretty difficult’ is fine by me.”
Bill tuts, though he’s grinning. “Gotta have more ambition, kid.” He rolls up and off the bed, straightening out his shirt, and smoothing down his hair. “You disappoint me sometimes.”
Dipper rolls his eyes, and onto his back.
Bill’s dabbling into demonic deviance has gone overlooked, and his ego has bounced back accordingly. He’s standing up straight, and proud. Adjusting his tie in the mirror.
Dipper doesn’t miss the way Bill glances at him in the reflection.
----------------------------------------------
Dipper drums his fingers against the windowsill.
Outside, Bill’s arguing with Mabel on the lawn, gesturing wildly with a stuffed animal in one hand. Obviously on some kind of rant, the way he’s moving. Mabel’s laughing, arms over her chest.
Dipper doesn’t know what that’s all about, and he’s not going to ask. He needs the space.
Bill seems fine. Casual observation reveals only one demonic jerk, acting with his usual enthusiasm. To everyone else, he’s perfectly, one hundred percent normal-for-Bill.
Of course they don’t notice, or suspect. Nobody else knows him as well.
And they’re not personally affected.
Dipper lets his head thunk against the window.
Waking up tangled together with a mortal in a completely nonsexual way has been a bigger blow to Bill than Dipper thought.
For an all-poweful being of supposed ‘intelligence’ Bill is stupid.
He knows Dipper was completely on board, and any reasonable being in existence would consider the activity a non-issue. Even most demons would find that okay, he thinks. On that point, Dipper's less sure - but it's possible.
Unfortunately, Bill’’s as prideful as a cat. He’s had his fur ruffled, and he’s going to act like nothing happened until he’s soothed his ego.
He still argues with Dipper, and pats his butt. He still mocks him viciously because Bill always flirts, just for fun. He doesn’t need a reason.
For the last few nights, he hasn’t rolled into bed with Dipper. For any reason.
Dipper is better at waiting than Bil on average, but that doesn’t count the rare occasions Bill actually digs in for the long haul. Even for a demon, Bill’s ancient. He can be patient.
Which is totally fine. Bill can do as he pleases. Dipper’s grown accustomed to a certain amount of attention, but that's fine. This isn’t a big deal.
Bill will get over himself eventually. It’s only a matter of time.
Time is a commodity that Dipper rarely has, when it comes to dealing with his demonic husband. He sorta welcomes it.
The upside of knowing Bill’s desires in advance is that Dipper’s had plenty of time to think about it. Preparation is key, because Bill’s not going to stop pursuing what he wants. It’s simply not in his nature.
Instead, he’ll approach it in ways that he thinks he can get away with. Things that Dipper won’t notice, or see coming.
Obviously Bill would make it a surprise. If there’s one thing he loves besides terror, chaos, and - yeah, that other thing - it’s surprises.
Dipper might not even notice, in the heat of the moment.
He’d be busy watching Bill licking at the juncture of his hips, and try to run a hand through his hair - only to find out he couldn’t. Then Bill would laugh, and kiss Dipper’s thigh, before leaning in anyway-
Dipper smacks his forehead against the window, harder this time.
Damn it.
The downside of knowing what Bill wants is that he’s had plenty of time to think about it.
Dipper takes a deep breath, and lets it out. He hits his head on the window again.
Fine. Dipper tries really, really hard, not to lie to himself these days. Facts are facts, even if they’re awful, embarrassing ones.
He’s thought about letting Bill - he rubs at his eyes - tie him up before, or getting a little rough before. Letting him take control. Demons have a reputation and, well. Everyone has fantasies. Even if they’re ridiculous.
Now, knowing what he does - with the evidence he’s collected - the detail in those thoughts increases each time Dipper has one. He can almost picture the way Bill would smirk when he -
Something hits the glass in front of him, and Dipper flinches back.
Bill waves at him from outside, grinning. Mabel’s saying something to him, but he shrugs it off.
Dipper doesn’t wave. Zoning out all the time isn’t helping, he’s being stupid. He watches Bill’s grin fade in fractions, until his eye narrows, looking thoughtful -
Dipper turns away from that look. His face feels hot.
If Bill’s going to - if he stormed up and tried something, right now - Dipper wouldn’t say no.
He wouldn’t have said no a few weeks ago, either. Or even earlier than that.
Dipper stands still for a while, but there’s no Bill stalking up the stairs, or a door opening. He feels frustration rising in his chest.
This is stupid.
And if Bill would just ask for the things he wanted, instead of, say, tricking a guy into it through pages and pages of convoluted legalese, or joking about it in a completely obvious way, he might find out that things could go a lot easier than taking the weird, frustrating demonic route.
...Bill would probably say it’s no fun that way.
What really sucks is waiting for him. Waiting for him to stop being an ascetic. Knowing that even when Bill’s over that, he’s going to wait for the right moment, when he has just the right hand to play.
That leaves Dipper sitting by, wondering what that moment will be. He’ll almost certainly be wrong.
One of the constants regarding Bill that he’s unhelpful, and in this case, it also means he’s not helping himself. When an obstacle presents itself, and Bill's being, well, Bill, that's usually Dipper's cue to work around him.
Dipper jerks his head up. He turns.
Outside on the lawn, Bill’s distracted by whatever he has going on with Mabel. Dipper can hear his sister whining, while Bill buffs his nails against his shirt, looking proud.
Dipper can’t believe he almost forgot the first, most basic part of dealing with Bill.
Sitting around and waiting for him to pull something Is a terrible idea.
Besides, Dipper’s... kinda run out of patience.
He lets go of his grip on the windowsill, and storms over to his sock drawer.
It’s practical. It’s sensible. Dipper’s idea makes perfect logical sense, so he’s decided he’s not embarrassed about it, and it’s almost working.
But screw it. Bill won’t mind.
He loves surprises.
--------------------------------------------------
Dipper stares at himself in the mirror - there’s always a mirror, Bill’s arrogant like that - and makes a face.
For the second time in the same week, Dipper’s alone in Bill’s bedroom.
Bill seemed curious why they’re back here again - mostly because Dipper’s here, he knows Dipper hates it - but he accepted it with no more than one weird look, and a shrug.
Dipper straightens up, raising his arms, and - wow, he really doesn’t know what Bill sees in him. It must be his mind, because his muscles are okay, but nothing compared to Stan’s, or Ford’s. Even though he’s made some effort. Maybe Stan had a point about the protein.
He starts pacing back and forth.
The collar dangles from his hand, the leash tangled on his fingers. Exactly what Bill wants, and who's going to be here any moment.
And Dipper’s still walking back and forth in his boxers, like an idiot.
Okay. He’s a little nervous.
What Bill wants is weird, and Dipper’s kinda weird himself, and - and he has no idea what he’s doing.
It should be fine. Even if things start poorly, Bill will know what he’s doing, he won’t want it to be bad. Dipper can trust Bill about that, too, just for this one thing. There’s precedent.
The mattress bounces slightly as Dipper flops down on it.
This is it. He can do this.
Dipper opens the latch of the collar, holding it over his neck, and breathes out.
Here goes nothing.
The latch closes easily around his neck. The collar is a perfect fit, and warm around his neck. Exactly the same as when he tried it on earlier.
Unlike earlier, there’s a soft ‘whoomph’ sound in Bill’s bedroom, and the light turns strange.
Dipper sits up in alarm.
Nothing seems wrong, but there weren’t candles in the bedroom before. Much less lit ones. He taps his fingers against the sheets, suddenly worried - and jerks his hand up from the bed as it shifts.
Dipper tentatively pats the sheets, then smooths his hands over the fabric. Not only are they softer, they just changed color in an instant.
Bill’s room changes with his whims. With his thoughts. It displays whatever he wants, whenever he wants. For it to be this sudden, Bill must have -
Dipper’s hand jumps to his throat.
It’s entirely possible - even probable - that Bill has had way, way too much time to think up a specific scenario, centered around one specific idea.
Triggered by a very specific event.
Dipper breathes in slowly, and waits.
The sheets are absurdly soft. He rubs his hands against them, and wishes Bill would hurry up. Being here, by himself. Looking like this. Alone with his thoughts again, Dipper starts feeling ridiculous.
After all, the ideas running through his brain aren’t necessarily the same ones Bill’s pictured, in his weird, triangular mind. What if it’s not right. What if he’s misinterpreted, and Bill thinks he’s the weird one, for jumping to conclusions - and shit, he doesn’t have time to get changed either, the door’s already opening.
Dipper drops to his side, trying to relax. He might even manage ‘not total dork’, if he’s being generous.
“Pine Tree!” Bill grins, slinging his suit jacket over his arm. “There you are! What’s up wi-” He catches sight of Dipper, and trips on nothing, catching himself on the doorframe.
“Hi,” Dipper waves, feeling awkward. What else is he supposed to say?
Bill, for once in his life, has shut up. He stares. His arms drop, and the jacket sprawls across the floor.
“I, uh,” Dipper’s no good at this. He shuffles in place, and asks the first thing that comes to mind. “Come to bed?”
Shaking his head a few times, Bill blinks, looking Dipper over, and around the room.
Then he starts to grin.
"Hello yourself, Pine Tree." Undoing his tie, Bill takes a step forward, eye roaming over Dipper. "Well, well, well. What've you been up to?"
“I've been thinking,” Dipper starts. He rubs at his neck, but it makes the collar shift on his neck. The leash twitches on the mattress..
Bill snorts, amused. “Yeah, no kidding. You’re only being in the universe who’d gear up to seduce Bill Cipher,” He gestures at Dipper’s bare chest, the leash - then down with a smirk. “And still leave your boxers on.”
That's unfair, he didn't have time - Dipper sits up to protest, but Bill’s already grabbed onto the leash, hauling him in.
The kiss is instantly deep, and wet. Dipper opens up for it, leans into it. He feels Bill’s hands roam over his sides, onto his chest - then they slide onto his neck, rubbing the collar.
Bill makes an approving noise against Dipper’s mouth, pushing him back onto the bed.
Dipper moves with it, feeling relief wash over him. ‘Seducing’ was the word Bill used, so.... He’s probably on the right track.
Then Bill pulls back, beaming. “You little sneak! Someone had to snoop around to find this.” He takes the tag of the collar between his fingers, and rubs it slowly. The smug look he gives Dipper is full of delight. “Guess they liked what they saw.”
“Uh.” Dipper’s thought about it. A lot. He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe they think it’s worth a shot?”
“So! What’s the occasion?” Bill slides onto the bed next to him. He grins down at Dipper, patting his stomach. The leash is firmly in hand, wrapped around his palm. “Our anniversary’s months away, I know it’s not your birthday, and I don’t have one.”
“I-” Dipper pauses. That’s a lot to process, but he holds up a hand. “Wait. Why would I do this for my birthday?”
Bill’s slow, wordless leer speaks volumes.
Dipper swallows, mouth feeling dry, and folds his arms over his chest. His stupid, overactive mind is already doing Bill’s work for him, and Bill knows it. “I have my reasons."
“Well, whatever they are, don’t catch me questioning 'em.” Bill’s grin is sharp and delighted. He starts rubbing his hands together. “Oh man, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
Not for the first time, Dipper realizes he might be in over his head.
The leash. The collar. The lights, everything, all of these things are part of something Bill’s thought about; a picture he’s held in his mind. Judging by the level of detail -
Crap, Dipper can’t match a fantasy, he’s only one young human.
“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve pictured you wearing that,” Bill flicks the tag on the collar, slides a hand down Dipper's chest - takes a quick detour to pinch a nipple - then down to his hips. “ Only wearing that. ”
“Okay,” Again, more new information, and Dipper blocks Bill before he can kiss him again. “Look, about that.”
“Sure,” Bill says, oddly agreeable. He tucks his fingers under Dipper’s boxers, leaning down. “Say whatever you wanna say.”
Dipper hesitates. “What do you-”
There’s a sharp tearing sound, as Bill casually rips the boxers to shreds instead of sliding them off.
“Uh.” Dipper breathes in shakily. Swallowing, he watches as Bill kisses down his side, heading down to his hip. "I - What do you want?”
“Mh?” Bill glances up, tongue sticking out of his mouth, mid-licking Dipper’s hip.
“I mean,” Dipper regrets saying anything. He grips onto Bill’s hair. “Wait, no, keep going.”
Bill lifts up anyway, the bastard. He frowns. “What, you didn’t figure it out?” He taps the head of Dipper’s cock, watching it bob in place. “You’re usually decent at the whole 'guessing motives' thing.”
“I have a few ideas,” Dipper admits. He shifts closer, but Bill plants his palm just next to his dick, holding him down. He really shouldn’t have said anything, he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Nothing detailed.”
Bill looks both amused, and exasperated. “You always jump into things headfirst, dontcha?” He gets up and off the bed, wagging a finger. “Then lemme lay it out for you. In simple terms.”
Dipper backs up a bit, gripping the sheets.
“You’re mine. And that means you,” Bill says, slow. He gathers the leash in his hand, wrapping it around his wrist, and leans in. His grin is downright wicked on his face. “Will do whatever I want. ”
“Nope.” Not on the table. Dipper makes an X with his arms, he moves to stand..“Nice try.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't get your hackles up. I'm not talking for keeps, kid. Don’t ruin the mood.” Bill pushes him back down, hands on his shoulders. “Only an in bed arrangement. A one night only special!" Bill's put on his most convincing tone. Trying not to look eager, and failing. "Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
Which… Is more how Dipper pictured this going. He fidgets with the collar. “I’m listening.”
“If there’s one thing you’ve never had a problem with, it’s telling me to fuck off,” Bill adds, dryly amused. “You speak up, and I’ll cut it out.” He holds out a pinky, eyebrows wiggling. “Deal?”
Dipper looks up at Bill, then down at the extended finger.
It seems fair. It doesn’t seem like there’s any tricks either, besides what he’s obviously agreeing to, and he’s okay with that.
Bill, in this one single thing, has a good reputation. He’s proven it, time after time. He’ll want to make this good for Dipper, because he wants this, and Dipper doesn’t mind this either, in theory. As long as they both benefit, then...
Fine. Dipper’s run out of patience, anyway.
He wraps his pinky around Bill’s. “Deal.”
“Great.” Bill pulls his leash-wrapped hand back. It tugs at Dipper’s neck, making him look up at that smug, grinning face. Bill taps his chin, as if thoughtful. “Just one more thing I gotta add.”
Dipper’s hands almost smack together, drawn together by a physical force. He tugs at the leather cuffs, staring.
Shit, these appeared out of - not nowhere, because this is the Mindscape. This is Bill, again. Manipulating unreality, again. There’s a chain leading up from the cuffs - and when Dipper tugs downward, he feels a jolt against his collar.
Dipper glares, but Bill isn’t fazed.
“What’s with the face, sapling?” Bill strokes his thumb over his cheek, tapping at the corner of Dipper’s mouth. “We’re gonna have a fantastic time.”
Dipper tightens his lips. That’s still questionable.
Bill pokes a few times with his thumb. “You’re not playing nice, Pine Tree.” He clicks his tongue, looking disappointed.
“ You’re not being very convincing,” Dipper responds. He bites Bill’s thumb when it makes another attempt.
“Adorable! But I think you mighta forgotten.” Bill pulls him back in with the leash. They’re almost face to face now. “ Mortal,” He mutters. “You’re mine.”
“Cipher,” Dipper says, through gritted teeth. He leans back more, drawing the leather leash taut between them. He cuts his first response short, and swallows. “I’ll. Do what you want.”
Bill breathes in sharply. His eye literally lights up. “Okay, but for real - this is really doing it for me.” He taps Dipper on the nose, beaming. “Great job, sapling! Keep it up.”
Dipper sits down on the mattress, face feeling hot. “And you said I ruined the mood.”
Bill’s thumb pops into his mouth on the last syllable. He pushes it forward, over both Dipper’s tongue and his protests, and smirks. “Suck it.”
His thumb presses down. The rest of his hand grips Dipper’s chin, holding him still. Dipper swallows - then rolls his tongue against the weight in his mouth, and watches Bill’s pupil go wide.
Like everything else about Bill, Dipper should have seen this coming.
It’s not like there weren’t hints.
“Perfect,” Bill purrs. His thumb slides out, tapping Dipper on the lips. “Now, first things first,” He reaches out a hand, and something appears in his fingers, tapered and golden. He waggles it, pulling one of Dipper’s legs up. “Know what this is?”
“Yes,” Dipper says, annoyed. “I’m not an idiot." He still looks away from Bill, and the plug. It’s not like he hasn’t done things to himself, but Bill doing it to him is -
Bill taps his thigh again, and Dipper shuffles his legs apart, allowing Bill in. He shifts his hips as the toy slides in. It’s not all that big, and it’s been warmed. So far, not so bad.
Bill taps the base of it a couple times, just to watch Dipper jump. “Alright, get up.”
Dipper squirms. “Just a second.” This is new, and strange.
Bill moves off the bed, despite his protest. And when the leash pulls him, Dipper follows his demon on a lead, feeling the weight inside him shift with the movement.
He stands at the edge of the bed as Bill examines him. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but this, like everything else, is different.
Bill slides a hand up Dipper's stomach, then over his side, eye glowing. “Ready and willing, huh? I like it,” His leash hand comes up, and runs through Dipper’s hair, once, twice - then grips tight. “Kneel.”
Dipper drops, carefully, to his knees. The plush carpet is soft, and - well, they’ve done this before, it’s not that weird, only...
There’s Bill, standing over him, almost fully clothed. Dipper, in the same position, naked. His bound hands are new, and the pressure inside him. He’s hot and embarrassed, and for some reason he’s hard.
“ That’s right.” Bill’s grip on his hair pulls his head back. He watches Dipper’s face for a moment, and grins. “You’ve earned a treat.”
Dipper feels the tension in his shoulders drop. He wants to roll his eyes, he watches Bill undoing his pants instead. “Let me guess, it’s your-”
The vibration inside hits Dipper like a punch. He jolts in place, sucking in a breath. The toy is small but it’s close to where he wants it, buzzing hard-
“Yeah, that too.” Bill strokes his thumb on the back of Dipper’s neck, staring down at him with amusement. “You like?”
Dipper nods against the hand in his hair, in a few small jerks.
Bill’s still smirking, but now his face is slightly flushed. He licks his lips, and unbuttons his shirt with his free hand. He lets go of Dipper to pull himself out of his undone pants.. “Mouth.”
And that is easy.
Before Bill can pull him in, Dipper mouths along the side of Bill’s cock. He flicks his tongue against it, slowly moving up until he takes the head into his mouth. He meets Bill’s eye, and rolls a long, slow circle around with his tongue.
Bill swears under his breath, his hips stutter forward. He holds his cock steady, breathing hard. “Fuck.” Then, lower, “That’s it.”
Dipper takes his time, then.
It’s just Bill’s cock, hot and heavy in his mouth, like always. Dipper already knows how to take it, knows what Bill likes, and Dipper never wants to stop making Bill groan, and swear, and urge him on. There’s a kind of power to it, knowing that Bill wants this, badly.
“Fuck,” Bill’s composure breaks for a second as he hunches over, and shudders. He hauls Dipper’s head closer, his hips thrust forward. “You're such a cute little cocksucker.”
Dipper almost chokes, he lets out a low groan. A hot twinge of embarrassment burns in his chest.
“Thought you might be the type,” Bill pushes him down further, voice rough. “You were so eager, first time you sucked me off.” He cups the back of Dipper’s head. “Not that you could take much, back then.”
Dipper moans at the reminder. He’d never done it before, and Bill didn’t complain. He’s gotten so much better at it, though, even Bill swears when he takes him in this deep-
“And I saw you practice.” Bill runs his hand through Dipper's hair, a slow pet. Dipper feels like he’s burning, swallowing as Bill holds him in place, taking the shallow thrusts. “On your fingers. On anything that might touch your throat. ” He fucks into Dipper’s mouth a little more with each word, grinning. “When what you really wanted was my cock in your mouth.”
Bill shouldn’t have noticed that, hell, Dipper shouldn’t have done that, he feels like he’s on fire. There’s a teasing buzz inside of him, and Bill’s thick and hot and demanding, he always wants more -
“If I’d known,” Bill’s hand grips the back of Dipper’s neck. “How much you loved this,” Dipper’s throat works, moaning against Bill’s hips - “The first time I met you, I woulda made you kneel.”
He would have, and could have, he’s always demanding. Dipper would have been confused, and nervous, dropping to the floor. Full of this same trembling excitement that he feels in his chest.
Bill’s cock twitches again, and Dipper shudders as he swallows. He wants to grab onto something, but he can’t, he just has to take it.
When Bill draws back, Dipper pants for breath. And as Bill’s cock bobs in front of him, he presses the full flat of his tongue up against the head, and looks up.
Bill breathes in sharply, staring. Dipper swallows again, licks at his lips - crap, that might have been - he just -
Dipper tries to wipe his mouth on his shoulder.
“Adorable.” BIll cups Dipper’s chin in hand, turning him to look upward, where Bill is grinning inhumanly wide. “Now that’s what I call a performance.”
Dipper coughs. He swallows, finds his voice again. “...Thanks?”
“Lemme know what it’ll take to repeat it,” Bill glances down, mouth twitching. “Not that I think it’ll take much,” He pats Dipper’s cheek with a smirk. “You’re my cute little cocksucker.”
“Hey!” Dipper’s not - it’s different - already Bill's hauling him up by the leash, backing him towards the bed.
“That’s not all you are though, is it?” Bill pushes him back onto the mattress. Dipper flinches as the toy changes position. “Always been a curious little thing, haven’t you?” He pushes Dipper’s legs apart, and pats his thighs. “Tell me how far that went.”
“What?” Dipper already burning up, hot both inside and out. He turns away, jaw tight. “You can’t be serious.”
“Go on, kid,” Bill prompts, leaning over him. “Tell me how you touched yourself.” He slaps the base of the plug, thumb running around it. “Right here.”
Dipper pulls at his bonds, and only manages to lift his head. He thumps back onto the pillow, grimacing. He’s hard and still untouched, and Bill is being completely unhelpful.
If he could just touch himself, then this wouldn’t still be going. He pushes his hips against the bed, but the toy isn’t hitting right. It can’t touch the way it should, it’s not enough. It’s worse when Bill starts drumming his fingers against it, making it shift inside him in gentle taps.
“C’mon, don’t hold out on me,” Bill runs a finger down Dipper’s cock, then grips it loosely. Dipper thrusts up into nothing as Bill lets go. He’s still smirking, the bastard. “Tell me all about it.”
“I didn’t,” Dipper lies, and instantly realizes that was obvious. Bill raises an eyebrow. And worse, the vibration stops. Dipper smacks his head against the pillow, eyes shut. “Damn it.”
“I’m the champion of liars, sapling.” Bill tuts, pulling the plug out. Dipper feels empty, he wants to pull his legs shut, but Bill’s between them. “You couldn’t pull that one off - and speaking of pulling something off-”
“Fine! I did, alright?” Admitting it isn't that hard, knowing he can't lie. Bill makes an amused sound, dripping some lube over his fingers - Dipper glances down - and Bill’s hard, again. “...A couple times.”
“Something like this?” Bill’s fingers slide in, curling upward, and Dipper lets out a full, deep groan. Right there. Bill’s voice turns prompting. “What’d ya think about?”
God, there’s a right answer to that one. Dipper shuts his eyes, and his mouth. Worse, it’s an honest one.
“You. “ Back then Bill was a dick, but he was handsome, and he knew everything, and he had... his main trait. “Part of you, anyway.”
“Ah, lust at first sight,” Oddly, Bill sounds pleased. Maybe even fond. He lifts one of Dipper’s legs, sliding another finger inside with a smirk. “What’d my daydream self do to you?”
Dipper shuts his eyes. It’s hard to concentrate. “It. Wasn’t specific.” Or anything in particular, the fantasies were half-formed at best. But Bill was always there, confident, and distracting. He seemed like he knew everything, and in Dipper’s private thoughts, he’d know as much about this as he did about magic -
“I thought about you teaching me stuff.” He sucks in a breath as Bill twists his fingers -”With your hand, and your mouth.” And the next part - he can't look at Bill as he says it - “How to take your cock.”
Bill makes an odd sound, pulling his fingers out in a quick jerk, and Dipper whines, low in his throat.
That was a good answer. An honest answer, and Bill’s leaving him like this? Now?
“And guess what, I did!” Bill sounds slightly breathless. He pulls Dipper’s legs up, shifting him into place. “Looks like you got your wish, kid.” He strokes himself slowly, and winks. “I’m the man of your dreams!”
“Hardly,” Dipper snaps, squirming in place. He watches Bill blink in surprise. He wants to haul his demon in, but he can’t, and he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. “The man of my dreams would fuck me already.”
Bill bursts out laughing, and Dipper wants to kick him, wants to touch him, and part of him even wants to smile back.
“Ah ah ah,” Bill wags a finger, leaning in. Rolling their hips together so they slide against each other “If you really want it,” He mutters, Dipper can hear the smug grin in his voice. “Why not ask nice?”
“I - Fine. Please.” Dipper says. He knows he’s blushing, he feels Bill lift up, tapping against him. “Please?” The slide in is insultingly slow, Bill’s taking his time. Dipper presses his head against the pillow, jaw clenched tight. “ Bill.”
“Sometimes,” Bill says, voice low, pressing tight against Dipper, only to instantly start a punishing pace. “I can’t believe how much you love being fucked.”
God, Bill’s nothing like the toy - thick and hot and living, moving roughly, Dipper can feel Bill squeezing his hip. “Ah.”
“No need to be quiet,” Bill winks down at him. “I like you talkative! In fact,” He lifts Dipper’s hips, and grins as Dipper makes that noise again. “I bet I could make you beg for it.”
Dipper tries to say something, he can’t think. All he gasps is, “Yeah.”
Yeah, he would. If that made the difference between that awful teasing, and getting this, Dipper knows he’d break before too long. And when Bill sits up slightly, changing the angle - Dipper arches back, the corners of his eyes feeling hot.
“Forget the hero stuff, you’re better like this.” Bill’s eye is bright, his hands tight on Dipper’s hips. “I should just keep you here all night.” His grin turns wicked. “You’d love it.”
Heat rises in Dipper’s chest. He knows what that would look like. It wouldn’t just be the leash, and his arms, he’d be tied down completely, truly trapped with a relentless monster, he would like that, it would be intense, and interesting, and - And whose fault is that, anyway, for giving Dipper this, and making him want more.
”Using your cute mouth, or your hands.” Bill runs a finger up Dipper’s chin, looking him in the eye. “Whenever I want.” And Dipper would be sore, and exhausted, his jaw aching and his wrists sore, and he’d still let Bill do it, because it’s good, and he wants to -
“Or maybe I’ll spend the whole time inside you,” Bill’s eye glows red, he grips the leash with a vicious grin. “Finding out how many times you can come.”
Like this, but more, if it went on that long - Dipper strains at his collar, at his cuffs, wanting to touch - he comes, shaking and Bill fucks him through it and keeps going. Dipper wraps his legs around him, tight.
Inside, he feels the heat as Bill comes with another, more vulgar swear. His hips still move, slowing down, Bill’s eye fluttering.
Bills final thrust makes Dipper’s spent cock twitch against his stomach, and he shivers.
“ My mortal,” Bill hums, looking pleased. He strokes Dipper’s hair back, slowly relaxing. “No escape for you, kid.” A wink. “You’re in this forever.”
Dipper doesn’t have a response.
He licks his lips, and tries to remember how to breathe. As if by magic - which they are - the handcuffs disappear, and Dipper lets his sore arms drop.
Glancing at Bill shows a perfectly smug, satisfied, and entirely too happy demon. Still stroking Dipper’s hair, smirking down at him. Expecting a retort that can’t be given right now, Dipper’s still catching his breath. He shuts his eyes.
Being petted is a little ridiculous - but it’s nice.
Bill snorts, and nips at his ear. “What’d I tell you?.” He cups the back of Dipper’s neck, hauling him in for a kiss. “A great time.”
Dipper leans into it, holding on with shaking hands. Stroking over Bill’s back, over his shoulders. Fine, Bill wasn’t wrong, he met his reputation to a tee. It wasn’t bad, not even a little. Though it was also…
Definitely different. Dipper drops back, and runs a hand down his face, blinking upwards. Different, and...
Intense.
He covers his eyes with his arm. Above him, Bill presses a few more kisses to his neck. Mostly so he can add a few hickeys, if Dipper’s any judge.
“So am I great, or am I stupendous?” Low as Bill’s voice is, Dipper can feel his grin. “I’ll also accept incredible.”
“You’re pretty good,” Dipper says, dropping his arm away from his eyes. Bill gives him an arch look, and Dipper prods him in the side. He starts to smile. “You’ll have to try a few more times before you’re annoyingly good.”
Bill’s grin widens, and he drops back on the mattress. “Pine Tree, sometimes you’re so friggin’ cute I just,” He clenches a hand, looking wistful. “Wanna rip your soul out, and turn it into a keepsake.”
That shouldn’t be a compliment, that’s messed up, and yet Dipper’s turning red anyway.
“Y’know, if you wanted to try something in bed, you coulda just mentioned it. We’ve known each other how long?” Bill pats Dipper on the cheek, one eyebrow raised. “You must've guessed this was right up my alley.”
“Is that so.” Dipper rubs at his eyes.
Of course. He should have just said something. That was the obvious thing to do, says the biggest goddamn hypocrite in the -
“But no!” Bill continues, waving a hand in the air, for some reason he sounds... delighted? “You snooped around behind my back, snuck into my personal sanctum, and pulled this on me,” He shuts his eye, letting out a huge, pleased sigh. An arm sneaks around the back of Dipper’s neck. “I knew I picked the right mortal.”
Right, that tracks. Dipper had already guessed as much, demons are weird.
“I mean,” This worked out better than Dipper thought. He shuffles closer to Bill. “It’s what you would do to me.” Turnabout is fair play, always.
“Hm?” A slight frown creases Bill’s pleased, smug expression, he waves the notion off. “Nah, kid, that’s not your style. You’d hate it.” He opens his eye lazily, his mouth twitches upward. “Hell, I thought it’d take at least another six months before I could talk you into the collar.” A finger goes up, as he clarifies. “Just the collar.”
Not the actions, just the apparel. Thinking about it... Bill still can't read his mind. He had no idea what Dipper's been idly contemplating, for months now.
Dipper shrugs. "I don't know," He nudges Bill with an elbow, trying not to smile. "I might have surprised you."
Bill loves surprises, and deception. All kinds of tricks. It’s in his nature, as a bizarre, psychopathic demon.
And he's not actually stupid.
The flipside of knowing Bill for so long - is that Bill’s known Dipper for just as long, and what to do about it. He’s prided himself on being a ‘gentleman’ about bedroom stuff, and he’s mostly been one. With almost everything they’ve done, Bill’s talked him either through it, or into it. He’ll absolutely talk to Dipper about this later, and....
Almost certainly talk him into doing it. Again.
Not that Dipper minds. It’s just nice to know it won’t come out of nowhere.
Rolling onto his side, Dipper tries to relax. There’s a good lingering ache, and he’s tired -
Then he feels Bill’s arms around him, and his back is pressed against a warm, firm chest.
Dipper blinks in surprise.
Two times in this same week, Bill’s been the one to start this. When he usually makes a big show out of complaining how ‘human’ it is before he relents. Even though he’s stayed away from being in bed with Dipper, for days.
He wasn't avoiding it out of pride, or being indignant, it didn't come from Bill putting up appearances. It's not because he was insulted, either. It's not because he didn't like it.
But Bill does knows how to resist temptation.
“You know,” Dipper starts, carefully. Resting a hand against the one on his chest. “A normal guy wouldn’t want this.”
“Eh,” Bill waves that idea off, the leash still wrapped around his palm, and sounding eminently comfortable. “Every guy in the multiverse has something weird they’re into.” His fingers draw idle circles on Dipper’s chest. It kind of tickles. “Why get worked up about it?”
“I never said I was,” Dipper interjects. He gets a nipple pinched for the protest.
“Yeah, yeah, so you say,” Bill says, tone clearly demonstrating how little he believes that - “Ease up, ‘cause we got something mutually satisfying going on, Pine Tree,” Here Bill shifts, rising up to meet Dipper’s eyes. He winks. “And just ‘cause I’m so nice - It’ll be our little secret.”
Dipper rolls his eyes, strokes Bill’s cheek. Runs his fingers through his hair, feeling warm, and amused.
Bill’s projection is so obvious it’s almost like it’s -
Crap, it is intentional. Isn’t it. Everything has been. Hiding was never the point; the point was to drop hints, and see what Dipper would do with them. Giving him ideas, and letting his mind run away with all kinds of insanity -
Dipper sighs.
That worked out for Bill this time. Better than he'd hoped - and definitely more effective than he anticipated.
“Sure, Bill,” he says, sounding fonder than he’d like. He rolls onto his back, and reaches up. “It’s a deal.”
Kissing Bill is easy, too. And Bill doesn’t mind the surprise.
They’ve known each other too well, for too long. While they’re never going to match each other, they can predict each other.
Call it a compromise.
Bill makes a soft, pleased sound into the kiss. Stroking his hand over Dipper's chest, slowly trailing up to his neck. He pulls back, grinning, and tugs at the collar. "Looks like this little guy was a smash hit!" He leans in, sharp teeth bared. "Congrats on your new accessory, Pine-"
Dipper gives him an unimpressed look.
"Or it could just be a bedroom thing," Bill's shoulders slump, but not by much. His eye still roves over Dipper, his mouth twitches. "Tell you what," A quick pat on Dipper's chest, and a wink. "I'll let you hang onto this for me."
Dipper shrugs. "Fine." He runs his fingers underneath the collar, and thinks about - there's a lot to think about. "I'll keep it around."
The collar's black, but the gold on it is gaudy, and obvious. Faintly ridiculous. But overall... it could be useful. For later. For. Stuff.
When Dipper has another ridiculous idea, he won't have to ask; Bill will see it, and know, and then -
And then.
Dipper shifts in place, frowning as his dick rises with interest.
Damn it, his imagination has always been overactive, and now it's working against him.
Above him, Bill glances down. Then he starts to grin.
"By the way! While I have you right where I want you…” Bill grabs Dipper's shoulders, lowering down. His mouth is now on Dipper’s chest. Then on his stomach. “I’m gonna go do something real quick.” He looks up, and smirks. “Won’t even take a minute.”
Dipper wants to laugh, he shifts his legs apart. “Seriously?”
Bill rolls his eye, kissing Dipper's hip. Nowhere near subtle, or hinting. Not even trying to hide it.
But Dipper’s pretty sure what’s going to happen.