Chapter Text
It took a surprisingly short span of time to pick up the trail of fashionista tears: somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes. After your impressive clean-up time, you found yourself standing in the middle of the stairwell with an armful and a half of clothes, awkwardly calling out for Dipper in a strange house. It probably should have been weird that when he showed up, you relaxed, but then again, maybe it was a side-effect of being in a house you're not familiar with, the way having a guide who knows what they're doing (even when you don't) reassures you.
There were a few minutes where you struggled to see where the step in front of you was from your place behind the pile of clothes, and after an incident involving nearly falling down the stairs, Dipper had half of the load in one arm, the other free to catch you if the devilish staircase decided to try throwing you to the bottom. It was a very dramatic trip upstairs, and toward the end of it you were nearly ashamed, and definitely embarrassed as hell.
Luckily for you, Dipper hardly acknowledged your stair-related failure, only a small half-smirk noticed in passing letting you know he was amused. Of course, if you’d been hurt, it would’ve been another story altogether, but since you weren’t… it was pretty funny. You snickered quietly as Dipper lead you to Bill’s bedroom to finish your job.
You noted, on the way to your destination, that he specifically said “Bill’s room,” and not “our room” or even “my room,” and vaguely realized they had separate rooms. You were beginning to question their relationship, though that was a question quickly answered upon entering the blond man’s quarters.
Wow, yes, lots of these things were definitely Dipper’s. Not that you should really be able to judge- you’d only known the two for like a week or two- but they had very distinctive styles. It was pretty easy to tell, based on the variety of items on Bill’s floor, that your two bosses were most likely in a relationship. (They also totally acted like a couple, but what would you know.)
You tried to repress the grin steadily overtaking your features, but failed; you began to pick up the items from the floor and place them on the bed in piles: clothes, books and music, miscellaneous. Dipper watched from the doorway in amusement as you became absorbed in your task, already oblivious to the presence that hadn’t yet left.
They make a great couple, you thought to yourself, smirking, eyes twinkling elvishly. Very cute together, seem to have a great dynamic… damn, I ship it. Fuck-- yeah, that’s probably weird, shipping my bosses… whatever, my answer remains the same.
Dipper’s brows furrowed and a questioning smile curled his lips as he watched your odd changes in expression. He was going to ask what you were thinking about when his attention was stolen away by the sound of clanking and clattering and just general din coming from the kitchen. Eyebrows raised, Dipper turned and pattered away to see what all the noise was about.