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Dipper’s heart is beating so fast, he feels he is going to throw up any second while his brain is still reeling from the attempt to process what is happening. Great uncle Ford is lying flush against him, his chest warm and firm against Dipper’s back, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It’s also too much, tightening his throat with excitement and embarrassment, and Dipper is glad that Ford can’t see his flushed face. Though he wishes he could see Ford’s, to see a hint of what he’s thinking - does he like it? Or is he amused by Dipper’s lack of experience?
Just as Dipper fears that Ford may be concerned or even deterred by Dipper’s inability to speak and how tense he is, maybe thinking that Dipper was scared rather than anxious, Ford puts an arm around him to hold him tightly. And Dipper relaxes into the touch, slightly curling himself into the protective embrace.
“Breathe”, Ford tells him, resting his hand on Dipper’s sternum, all six fingers splayed across the small chest. Dipper’s heart skips a few beats beneath Ford's palm and his stomach flutters helplessly at the touch of the slightly rough fingertips brushing over his exposed skin, and for a moment, Ford’s instructions don’t even register at all.
“Dipper, it’s alright”, Ford says, his voice low and gentle and so unnervingly close, “You’re with me. Now, take a slow breath.”
Dipper nods uselessly, and takes a shaky breath. As he exhales, he slowly relaxes into the embrace. It feels unreal to be so close to his great uncle, almost like a dream, but also safe and warm. Dipper closes his eyes, letting his breathing be guided by the slight pressure of Ford’s hand against his rib cage. Carefully, Dipper finally dares to break the spell and move his arm, to very gently trace over Ford’s wrist and the back of his hand, following the tendons and veins to circle the gnarled knuckles. It’s not just curiosity that guides his movements - he really wants to show Ford he likes this, hoping that they can stay like this a little longer.
Then Ford shifts against him, and warm breath ghosts over the back of Dipper’s neck, and Dipper shivers in his arms. A noise escapes him, soft and helpless, when Ford’s lips brush his skin, so hot and wet yet slightly coarse and chapped. Dipper is frozen in place, finely tuned to every little detail as his brain is overclocking and his breath quickens.
“Dipper”, Ford murmurs against his neck, and Dipper feels like he’s burning up beneath Ford’s hands.
“G-great uncle Ford”, he manages to get out, not sure what he wants, but overwhelmed and desperate all at once, “Can I-”, Dipper tries to clear his throat to no avail, the words are still stuck, “Can I turn around?”
There’s a pause in Ford’s movements.
“I just really want to see you”, Dipper hurries to explain. His words are suddenly coming out too quickly and stumbling over each other, but he finds himself unable to slow down. “Actually, I- I’ve been thinking about it a lot- and I’ve been wondering-” God, Dipper wishes he could bury his face in his hands right now, or even better, bury himself while he’s at it, but now there’s no other way but to push through. He takes a shallow breath and confesses: “About kissing you. I even dreamed about it - a lot.”
Just the thought of sharing a first small kiss while Ford holds him like that makes Dipper crave to turn around, to cuddle closer and hug him tightly, to bury his face in Ford’s sweater and escape these confusing intense sensations.
“But I am kissing you right now.” There’s amusement in Ford’s tone, but Dipper is more concerned with the sensation of his lips tracing a wet path up the side of his neck, teeth teasingly scraping the sensitive skin just behind Dipper’s earlobe. It makes something hot and foreign pool low in Dipper’s stomach and it does not feel bad, not really - but then it’s too much all at once, and he does not know if he can take any more without bursting into tears.
Dipper whines, writhing in Ford’s arms. “Please, Great uncle Ford, I can’t!”
For a dreadful second, he fears that he must have said something wrong, because before Dipper knows it, he’s lying on his back and Ford is above him.
“I apologize”, Ford says, and somewhere in his panicked haze, Dipper is relieved that he sounds lenient and not mocking at all. “It’s been a while since I last could indulge in another person’s company like this.”
Dipper’s heart swells at that and when Ford bows down to plant a kiss on Dipper’s mouth, Dipper holds onto him, his fingers running through Ford’s thick, curly hair.
“I suppose I should have taken your age into consideration”, Ford continues, breaking the kiss rather abruptly and ruffling Dipper’s hair in a way that suddenly feels oddly dismissive. “After all, you are still but a child.”
As Ford gets up and Dipper follows suit, still wobbly on his legs and sweaty all over, his previous relief is replaced by the nagging feeling of hurt pride. Next time, he thinks determinedly despite this nervous uncomfortable tightening in his guts, he will not make Great uncle Ford feel like he’s asking too much.