Work Text:
The night was serene. Wirt looked into the growing darkness from the window. It was cozy inside, and he wore three jumpers just in case. He was slightly worried.
“Where could they have gone for such a long time?”
“Stop worrying! Mabel is with him.”
“That doesn't actually make me feel easy.”
Dipper was setting the table. He laughed, and that helped a bit. Wirt got up from the windowsill and helped the other boy. They had been preparing a meal all day, and Mabel had entertained Greg by preparing cookies, cupcakes, and various other sweets that were probably inedible but were definitely sparkly.
“They've been making desserts all day, why have they waited until night-time?”
Dipper laughed once more and ruffled Wirt's hair while going back to the kitchen. He returned once again with napkins and cutlery.
“They will be back soon, don't worry. When has Mabel not taken care of Greg?” Wirt paused a bit to think, but before he could say anything, Dipper started talking again. “Never, that's when. So, don't wallow. It's Christmas! And you're here, in Gravity Falls, with us!”
“I know, I know. You know me, I just can't not do it anymore.”
There was a wistful silence. The boys' fingers linked.
“We are home!”
Mabel opened the door with a loud bang. From behind her, Greg's head popped up. He tumbled over to Wirt's side, and his brother gave a sigh of relief.
“I was worried sick!”
“He truly was,” Dipper muttered smugly to her sister, and they both snickered at the teenager's preoccupations, in goodwill. Everyone was used to it, and they found laughter as the best way to handle the problem.
“You won't guess what we did, though!” Greg said, his face beaming.
“Hey don't spoil the surprise, Mabel answered, while picking the kid up.
“You scare me.” Wirt had also grown used to the twins' adventures, and he knew that, no matter how hard he tried to imagine what they might have been up to, he would never guess.
The night flew by in the Mystery Shack. They had dinner in between video and tabletop games, charades, TV-watching, crafts, puzzle-solving, music and joy. At the end of it, everyone was tired, but even Greg was holding up as though moved by sheer willpower.
“Hey, Dipper, don't you think it's weird how Greg is still up and about after all this?” Wirt asked.
“Normally, I'd say that you're exaggerating... But I have to agree, this is unusual.”
“You're getting that look.”
“What look?”
“Probably no supernatural being will have anything to do with my brother being strangely active.”
It was too late. Dipper already had a pen between his teeth and was chewing on it.
“You know, not everything is an important paranormal investigation.”
“You'll have to eat your words, you skeptic.” He looked up at Wirt with a determined expression in his eyes. “I'm getting to the bottom of this.”
Mabel was knitting a jumper in the couch while Greg decorated some festive rocks. He was humming and singing, and Dipper jotted that down as suspicious behavior. He took out his Journal and started looking through it, in search of a cause that could explain his liveliness.
“Dipper, I'm going to tell you just so you stop making a fool of yourself in front of your boyfriend.” Mabel said, not even looking up from the sweater.
“I don't know whether to feel offended, embarrassed or excited.”
“You can be all of them! What Greg and I prepared is really exciting!”
“Oooooh can I tell them now?” Greg got up from the floor where he was sitting.
“Okay, you tell them.”
“We are going to trap Santa!”
The boys' faces were a mix of bewilderment and panic. Wirt got really nervous suddenly. He didn't know how he would explain to his little brother that no fat man dressed in a red suit and matching hat (the sort that kept reminding him of his time in the Unknown) would come down their chimney to place presents for him. But, right at that moment, a loud yelp was heard from the adjacent room.
The four of them run towards the noise, some enthusiastic, some confused.
The image of the living room was a riot. Grunke Stan was tied to the roof by a rope, with quite the level of expertise, dressed up as Santa Claus, and Ford was trying to get him out of the net, to no avail. They both turned wide-eyed and stared at the children.
“It's not what you think it is,” said Stan.
Dipper was sitting in the attic. The night breeze chilled his bones, but he didn't really feel it. He just felt happy.
Wirt appeared at the door frame, carrying a blanket and two hot cocoas. He sat down next to him and put the cover over the two of them.
“It's been a fun night,” said Wirt, snuggling down to the boy.
“It has, definitely.”
“I mean, I have also had a couple scares but they're totally worth it.”
“To be fair, there was no way of knowing my family would act so outlandishly when we have you guys over.”
“You know neither of us would want it any other way though. We like you weird.”
Wirt turned his head towards Dipper. Their eyes stared into the other's.
“I like you weird. Or just, I just, I basically and plainly like you.”
Dipper smiled. Wirt's heart stopped.
Dipper leaned over Wirt and they kissed, a sweet kiss that still tasted of chocolate and cold.
They embraced, staring at the stars and their faces lit by the moonlight.