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A few days after their blissful little picnic found Dipper sitting in Stan’s chair in the living room, the fur blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and Bill in his lap, loosely wrapped in his arms. All of the other Pines had holed themselves up elsewhere (Mabel in the attic bedroom with Pacifica, Grenda, and Candy; Ford in his lab, probably contemplating how best to keep Dipper safe from Bill; and Stan in his own bedroom, already asleep—Dipper had checked). Even Waddles had gotten off somewhere, leaving the two of them blissfully alone.
They had settled on watching a marathon of Dipper’s favorite horror series (inasmuch as two movies played one after the other could be called a marathon), and Bill was providing a running commentary on the film’s inaccuracies—regarding Satan—and its inadequacies—regarding carnage and death toll. He was also engaging in his favorite pastime other than annoying Dipper: criticizing human behavior. Dipper had never been quite sure how much of it was feigned ignorance and how much of it was Bill not caring enough about humans to have paid attention to the things they did. Now that they were, well, dating , most of the demon’s motivations were still obscure to him.
“Why are they stopping? What are they—they’re kissing? Pine Tree, why are the humans in this movie so much stupider than regular humans are?”
Dipper shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe they know they’re gonna die, so they want to spend their time together kissing. It’s...nice. At least, that’s what Mabel tells me.” He felt Bill’s eye lock onto him instantly, and he flushed beneath the demon’s gaze. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, staring resolutely at the TV.
“You’ve never been kissed before, have you?” Bill asked.
A sigh slipped out of Dipper. “Of course not.”
“Well! We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”
“What are you talking about—”
There came a loud POP! and suddenly Dipper’s lap was full of long limbs and a long torso, clad in an eye-popping yellow suit. “ Bill? ”
“The one and only.”
Dipper licked his lips and took in the sight of the body before him. He couldn’t exactly take it all in, since Bill was moving, shifting to straddle Dipper’s hips and curling his long torso down to get his face closer to Dipper’s own. Still, Dipper could see enough to know it was gloriously monstrous, tall and gangly, skin a mottled grey and long fingers ending in filed down claws.
"That's—"
Bill grinned, showing off a set of incongruously human teeth in his mouth. "Do you like it? I made it just for you, Pine Tree."
"All those dreams I had," said Dipper slowly, “they were from you.”
"I sent you suggestions," said Bill. "I planted seeds in your subconscious. But it was you who grew them into monsters — beautiful monsters."
A hot, shameful blush began creeping up Dipper's neck. "They're not beautiful," he said, looking anywhere but at Bill. "They're, I don't know, corrupt. Freakish. They're not the kind of thing I should want to — to—"
Bill leaned to bridge the gap between them, reaching one long grey hand to cup the boy's cheek. "To pin you down and kiss the breath out of your fragile human body?"
Dipper's eyes slid shut. "To do more than kiss me," he admitted in a whisper.
"I don't see anything wrong with that."
"You don't see anything wrong with anything, Bill."
"Sure I do," said Bill airily. "I’ve found plenty of things wrong in this movie you like so much. But I've never found anything wrong with you, Pine Tree, that's for sure." He slid his arms around Dipper's neck and moved slowly, slowly, giving Dipper all the time in the world to turn away, claiming the boy's lips in a kiss when he didn't. Bill's mouth was not quite cold, nor was it warm as a normal human's would be. Dipper hesitated for a second or two, but he—he liked the coolness of Bill's skin, and the sensation of Bill's arms wrapped tight around him.
"Bill," he murmured when the demon drew back to let him breathe. He could feel Bill grinning against his jaw, peppering the skin there with kisses. "Bill..."
"Do you like this? If you don't, I can stop," he murmured when he'd kissed his way up to the shell of Dipper's ear. "Hmm, Mason? Speak to me."
Dipper practically purred with pleasure upon hearing Bill use his chosen name. "Don't stop," he breathed, and dug his fingers into Bill's flesh just in case. “Don’t ever stop.”
Bill drew away from Dipper’s neck and laughed. “You have to sleep sometime. You have to keep that fragile body of yours healthy.”
“Stop calling me fragile—I’m not.”
“Why do you think it’s an insult?” Bill asked, cupping Dipper’s face in those long hands. “You could break so easily, Pine Tree.” He kissed Dipper again, softer now, little puffs of cold breath emerging from between his parted lips. Dipper pouted at him, but halfheartedly, desire still clear in his eyes, still waiting for Bill to kiss him again. “But don’t worry, precious boy. I’ll keep you together.”