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He pulls his jacket a little tighter around his shoulders and winces, letting it go. It's somewhere too late for there to be daylight, but it’s barely dark. There are a few shadows as the sun sets, lengthening into something bordering on terrifying, but they're not because he's an adult and human and they don't get scared of things like ghosts and bad memories. They don't remember with perfect clarity night filled with oil and screams and having the one goal of getting drunk off terror . He shivers and twists the ring on his left hand. He's not there anymore, he's done. He served his time, saved by his very own knight in shining armor...
Well more like a shitty vest and a faded ballcap, but armor is more poetic.
Plus he was told it sells better. Told by his editor for his books... he has books. Wirt has books. He's always had ideas, dreams, tons of scribbles but he never imagined a coward devoid of motivation like himself would ever-- No stop that , especially not this close to home. His husband would kill him for saying something like that. Well, kill him with kisses and embarrassing as hell compliments he doesn't deserv-- Stop it, Wirt . The voice in his mind sounds suspiciously like Dipper and he much prefers that to the whispering hisses he used to hear. Voices he’ll never have to hear again outside his nightmares.
He’s happy, he really is, and amazed at how incredible his life is now, but… it’s just one of those days. His memories make up the majority of his thoughts, causing him to wince at every shadow for fear of it swallowing him back up and all because of a stupid thing that shouldn’t bother him, that wouldn’t bother anyone normal. Wirt can’t bear the sound of music anymore. Not unless it’s strictly instrumental, but uh he’d already woken up several times in the night gasping and then after hoping work would be the perfect escape, someone decided to switch the bookstore’s radio over to some kind of A-cappella station and he’s been on edge all day, frantically trying to keep up conversation so he won’t focus especially when there’s a smooth deep—
He drops his keys and shuts his eyes, counting back from ten, but wait, that's not how he’s supposed to calm down, is it? That’s for uh no that’s the other one... panic is more, wait this is dissociation or is it? it’s the— is it the touch one? Or the breathing exercise? There are so many he’s supposed to remember and he can’t keep them straight because he’s nothing but a failure even now who still gets scared at nothing but a voice even though his doesn’t sound like that anymore . And suddenly the world is tilting just like it used to when he’d melt into shadow and when did he start breathing that quickly? and can’t see... He can practically hear the notes drifting through the air again even though he’s not-- But he never was, was he? Was it him? Breathe, in, out… It’s not helping this must not be-- Gotta be the wrong one. How is he supposed to breathe when there isn’t any air and why can’t he even keep the self help straight—
“Wirt?” That voice is like instant ice to soothe the flames burning down what’s left of his fractured mind. There’s a second of clarity that quickly dissolves because how is he gonna explain-? He’s just sitting on the ground for no reason… No good reason, but he still can’t speak, move, think . He should tell him what’s wrong but-- What is wrong? There’s nothing wrong… Shouldn’t be anything. If he wasn’t so jumpy if he was if he just wasn’t so stupid maybe he wouldn’t be-- He was just walking and-- and--
There’s a sliding noise near him but he can’t open his eyes just yet. “Heyy it’s alright can you tell me what’s wrong?” Wirt barely manages to shake his head, gulping down air. “Is it alright if I touch you, is that okay?” Wirt nods and it starts another round of sobs because Dipper is perfect and wonderful and deserves someone even better and Wirt is broken and ruined and a monster and why is he even here? He should be back-- No he doesn’t want- but those arms wrap around him and suddenly it’s a little easier to focus. Sight and sound have been removed so he can focus on breathing and releasing some of the tension. He didn’t even realize his nails were digging into his--
Sometimes that’s all it takes. One hug is enough, just taking away some senses when it’s all too much. The memories threaten to drown him and he went so long without any sensation at all that some days he can’t-- There was the singing and the smell of pine which he was trying to take a shortcut and usually it doesn’t bother him, but Wirt hates the smell of pine. Dipper had asked about it once since Wirt literally only buys evergreen candles and loves the stuff saying “dude they all smell the same” Wirt had responded “If you spent eons in an endless pine forest smelling nothing but that you’d be able to tell the difference too” so Dipper just nodded and muttered something about how they should just get the waffle one like he said as if Wirt hadn’t just endured a month’s worth of cotton candy scent.
They sit for a while, Dipper rubbing circles into his back while Wirt covers his shirt in tears, ones he marvels at the clearness of, always slightly expecting sticky oil like they used to be.
“T-thank you. I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened but I’m fine now I promis—“
Dipper shushes him and leans back a little to meet Wirt’s eyes. The side of his mouth curves down, though he catches himself quickly and he begins to gently wipe away the stray tears. “Don’t apologize. I should’ve come to the door earlier. I knew something was wrong, I just knew it, and I even thought about grabbing you early to see if you wanted-- But it’s no one’s fault really, it’s perfectly fine, well unless... Can I ask if something happened?”
“Sure.”
Dipper waits for a response but the silence tells him everything he needs to know about if Wirt is actually as okay as he says he is. “What happened?”
“Oh, uh they just-- Nothing, it was dumb just me being an idiot again don’t worry about—“
“No- Hey I’m gonna worry about it. I’ve got a permit that says I’m allowed to worry about you.” He holds up his left hand wiggling his fingers to show off the ring. “You’re a little better at that I guess, but I worked hard to earn this thing, don't take away the perks of the position.”
Wirt pushes his hand down with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a dork. Quit-- Dipper I swear you show that thing off more than people who have ya know like real diamonds and are new enough to justify it. That thing’s been to hell and back.”
Dipper looks at all the scorch marks and scuffs along the edges, wincing. “Weelllll, so have we! It’s sorta poetic if you think about it.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes with the utmost fondness. “‘Poetic’ he says. Like you even-- All you did was shove it in some weird goo you shouldn’t have even been touching--”
“‘Shouldn’t have’ is such a subjective term… And I don’t think--” Dipper pauses and puts a finger to his lips, considering. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it was my attempt with the blowtorch that messed it up so bad now that I think about it…”
“You could have just taken it off for like a second .”
Dipper gasps and yanks his hand to his chest. “Never. Don’t you dare take this from me. Besides it was- how was I supposed to-- I am a professional, but I wasn’t gonna go buy a fancy baking blowtorch when we literally have a regular one. Welding and baking are adjacent sciences and it all turned out just fine.”
“First of all, I don’t think either of those is a science. And second I uh those pies were fucking incredible so it would be wrong of me to talk bad about them. What if you never make them again because of my dumb comment? Wouldn’t want that… ”
Dipper cracks his knuckles and smirks. “Normally I’d break somebody’s face for calling my husband dumb multiple times like that, but I think I may have to go after whoever made him upset first, priorities ya know? Speaking of… Hell, I’ll walk over to that lovely bookstore myself and figure out who—” Dipper isn’t going to push the issue if Wirt doesn’t wanna talk about it yet, but he thinks the levity would help and he would have been quieter earlier if he actually wanted to leave the issue alone. They’ve learned each other’s signals by now and if Wirt says he was being an idiot? It means he actually wants to talk, he wants validation more than silence. Which may seem like a bad thing but he’s got a lot of guilt over everything that happened and knowing that he’s allowed to feel certain things goes a long way. He gets scared but doesn’t feel like he’s allowed to be after the fear he caused.
Scary things don’t get to be afraid. Wirt is still working on that just as much as Dipper is himself as someone who deals with way too much and never allows himself a second to take a breath. He does now, Wirt will kiss him breathless and mention taking a walk after days stuck to the computer combing through things that keep him up at night. Sometimes when it’s worse they go out to the cliffs where it’s abandoned to just scream and listen to the echoes, let out some fear where no one can hear them and it feels safe . Where they're alone and can let out some unspeakable emotion before laying down to watch the stars. They take care of one another and now it’s Dipper’s turn. They trade off every few seconds, push and pull, caring and accepting the care neither thinks they deserve. Dipper with an “I haven’t done enough” and Wirt with an “I’ve done too much” They perfectly balance and understand even if it’s coming from the opposite perspective. They meet in the middle and when that voice screaming you don’t deserve this gets really loud? Well, it’s not a problem because my husband wants to and I wanna do this for him even if it’s secretly for me. They trick their brains, and they make it. They’re thriving with a few hiccups along the way, but even those lead to these incredible little moments where they’re laughing on the front steps while Dipper tries not to think about how his cookies are burning again. This is more important.
Wirt didn’t choose what happened to him even though he still thinks he does. None of that was his fault and he dealt with it the best he could. So Dipper presses, gently and with humor. “It was Marsha, wasn’t it? What did that old hag say to you I swear—“
Wirt laughs and it’s a little shaky and a little more broken, but it’s also causing him to double over with a new kind of tears in his eyes and Dipper smiles like the sun.
“Betrayal! Are you laughing at me!? I could totally crush her.” Dipper flexes his non-existent arm muscles for emphasis and puffs his chest out causing him and Wirt to both dissolve into breathless giggles.
“I appreciate the effort, but I’d rather not have to drive to the emergency room after the day I’ve had.”
Wirt is suddenly staring at his hands again like they’re going to something he’ll regret and Dipper’s face falls. Must’ve been a pretty rough day, then. Dipper is really good about knowing what Wirt needs and vice versa. He’d been the one to have an incident just a couple of weeks ago and they’d taken off work to talk about it. Dipper reflects out loud and needs someone to talk through it with him who understands… He gets this anxious energy that has to be let out somehow, hence the hikes and pulling him to do things. He wants the reassurance of being heard and believed and a day to just get out of the darker places as literally as possible, but Wirt works it out in his head, sometimes writing things down, but still, most of it stays up there. He’ll sort through something over the course of a few days and often needs a distraction to pull him away from thinking in circles and Dipper is more than happy to provide that.
Wirt easily convinces himself that his problems aren’t worth talking about so maybe-- If Dipper goes first it falls into a pattern. He got to talk, so now Wirt gets to, so even if his thing is dumb, it’s fine because they both talked about dumb mundane stuff for a little while. He can’t handle feeling like a burden like he’s somehow taking something after all he had was taking for so long. He wants to give and Dipper is more than happy to receive all the love and care and attention Wirt provides in the form of poetry left all around the house, the endless compliments and teasing, gifts they can’t afford, those kisses that make Dipper weak, experiments he’s more than happy to enable… But Wirt deserves just as much and while Dipper knows he thrives on being able to make him happy, Dipper wants something… Selfless right now. Something where he’s not the focus... Not so much that the attention makes Wirt uncomfortable, but Dipper jumps at this opportunity to do something meaningful and not-- not about him. Wirt loves being comfortable and feeling safe more than anything else, who doesn’t? But for Wirt, it means being able to speak freely without guilt keeping his mouth tightly sealed. Dipper isn’t sure if there’s an official love language for that, but it’s one he’s learned well enough.
Dipper scoots closer and gently pulls Wirt onto his lap. “I promise I won’t judge, in fact, I bet I did something much stupider today. I uhm I could tell you about my day and if you still don’t wanna share that’s fine but you owe me...” Dipper playfully runs a hand along his jaw and grins the troublemaker grin that he now uses as a weapon since Wirt told him it made him weak in the knees. “Let’s say you let me carry you inside and I get five whole kisses for my pride being wounded.” The trick there is, either way, Wirt wins. He either gets to enable Dipper’s dumb ideas and see him happy about that or he gets to talk like he wanted and see him happy about being opened up to. It’s rigged and both of them know it. They both win and hell if that’s rigged? Dipper never wants to play fair again.
Wirt shifts and looks a little unsure before nodding. “...alright. But you really don’t have to—“
Dipper cuts him off before he can take away his reward, especially since he plans on doing it anyway. “So there I was searching for the butter because--” He sets his head to rest on Wirt’s shoulder and frowns. “Oh no, I’m gonna ruin the surprise.” Wirt meets his eyes, brows knitted in confusion and interest.
Good. It’s working.
Dipper sighs theatrically. “It’s fine. You were gonna find out when we went in anyway. The whole house smells like one of those dime-a-dozen romance movies, so anyways I was looking for butter because of ahem .. mysterious reasons, and I remembered you saying you used it all so I went to the store, right? And they had a million kinds and it was exhausting to look at so I went to grab peanut butter because I know I used the last of it this morning because we’re both butter thieves, and they had almond butter sitting there. So I was like oh! Well, my thought was if I can get almond milk to substitute for milk in most things then almond butter must be a butter substitute, right? That’s just logical it makes complete sense.”
Dipper notes Wirt’s wide eyes and familiar oh shit Dipper you didn’t expression. He hides his smile by kissing Wirt’s shoulder, getting a little fuzz in his mouth from the sweater and he pretends he doesn’t feel Wirt lean back a little further into his chest. “I’m not the idiot! Blame the naming company. I drew a perfectly sound conclusion from the information I had, but so uh yeah… I just sorta put it into the cookies? And they burned like woah did they burn. I’ve been lighting candles like crazy to get the smell out. But I escaped, went back and got the stuff to make more, so it's fine.”
“Dipper! that’s almost as bad as that time with the nail polish—“
“No no it’s not because this didn’t get us banned from a drugstore for life, you’re welcome. I kept this strictly in our own home this time.”
Wirt sits up completely straight. “Wait when you said it smelled like a romance movie—“
Dipper has to lean back to avoid getting whacked in the face by Wirt’s head. “I got out all your evergreen stuff don’t worry I know I have to wait till next week, but that mixed with burning cookies and almond smell is approximating what I imagine cyanide should taste like.”
“Mason. ”
“Relax~ it’s fine now! Mostly... Anyways, your turn! Unless you still don’t want to which is perfectly—“
Wirt sighs and fidgets with his sweater sleeves, but Dipper places his hands softly overtop, asking for permission. Wirt interlaces their fingers as a yes, and Dipper starts rubbing his thumb gently along the back of his hand. “It really doesn’t uhm matter… Someone decided they wanted to listen to an all-vocal station today.” He shrugs to feign nonchalance, but when Dipper tightens his hold, he drops it. Dipper understands exactly how valuable an “I’m here” is. Just any kind of physical contact… Squeezing hands, brushing shoulders, light kisses, just anything to say I’m here, I’m real, and I’m not leaving . It’s everything to both of them. Years' worth of creatures and dimensions and experiences that have reality feeling a little more like a fuzzy possibility than anything solid. “It was uhm pretty deep and uh melodic and uhm I just- I was fine? Sorta… After, but uhm there’s uh it looked like the uh shadows were, which wow that’s impossible and I sound so dumb but I had this nightmare last night and couldn’t-- It just came back, you know? So I kept trying to do all the exercises to not freak out but I forgot which ones were for which things and that made it worse. I uh again it’s not anything bad. I just freaked out for no reason again I’m fine I should be fine. I’m being stupid.”
Ah so that’s what it was. Really, how on Earth is anyone supposed to keep track of the millions of specific helpful little tricks especially while they’re mid-breakdown? It makes sense, Wirt’s strong as fuck emotionally, so Dipper knew it had to be bad, but the good thing at least is it wasn’t a traumatic sort of incident . He’d be willing and ready and able to deal with that of course, but neither of them need more trauma and he’s glad there’s nothing like on top of everything else, this is something they know how to overcome. Just one after another after another… those are easier. Remove one stressor at a time, which he’d already done a little unconsciously. Wirt isn’t at the place anymore and Dipper makes a mental note to talk to them about their music choices sometime, he was right about the nightmare theory, and then well it’s sunset. He usually doesn’t come home until after dark, but with summer the way it is, the shadows look like they’re moving and Dipper had already been wondering if that would be an issue. His work schedule hasn’t ever been this for the summer, so now they know and most days with just that it likely wouldn’t be an issue but they could there’s non forest apths to walk home for sure and they can explore those some other day maybe… It’s alright they can… it’s going to be okay. Dipper releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and feels the tension drain out of his shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of Wirt’s hair.
“Thank you for telling me, but you did insult my husband again so I’m going to have to take action.” And then, Dipper “noodle arms, couldn’t-carry-a-heavy-box-if-his-life-depended-on-it” Pines pours all his strength into lifting Wirt off the ground and carrying him inside. There are many protests of “Dipper you’re gonna hurt yourself”, “Stop it, you can’t”, “I can walk on my own!”, “Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole!” He ignores all of them and doesn’t stop until he sets Wirt gently down, arms shaking with exertion.
Dipper takes a few deep breaths before sliding the blanket draped across the back of the couch around his husband’s shoulders. He hands over one of two steaming hot mugs on the table while Wirt looks at it in confusion. Dipper tries and fails to suppress the small smile at being able to get something like awe in his eyes. He sits across from Wirt, tangling their legs together and grabbing his own mug. Again, he knew something was off. Dipper wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong, but hey any excuse is a good excuse to cuddle with his husband and drink hot cocoa… Yes, even in the middle of summer , it’s nice and also time-consuming to make, good for wandering thoughts and giving his fidgeting hands something to do.
It’s definitely too late for coffee. He grew out of spending days awake at a time years ago. Mabel once said married life made him soft, and yeah, but… that’s exactly where he’s always wanted to be apparently. He may not have expected it, but… While the monster hunts are fun and all but after the Unknown… He didn’t want to do anything that could potentially separate him and his family ever again. After seeing-- He still has nightmares and doesn’t want Wirt, or anyone else for that matter, to have to find out about his mangled corpse in the middle of the woods somewhere. He can’t do that to him, not after what they’ve been through, and Dipper? He’d rather spend his nights cozying up to a cute guy than shivering in the cold with nothing but a journal and a camera. He still sorta does, but filming burrowing bunnies is a lot different from tracking down a hydra. He has the occasional research, but it’s not him risking his life daily anymore.
Dipper looks back up to find Wirt’s eyes but he’s still looking at the mug, eyes misty with unshed tears. “How did you—“
“You get home at the same time on Saturdays and, like I said, I had a feeling you might need this today. Seems like I was right.” He hides a smirk behind his own mug. “As always.”
Wirt feels that all too familiar eye-roll coming on and doesn’t fight it. “Says the guy who nearly burnt the house down.”
“I did not . I would never-” His eyes widen and he jumps off the couch. “Fuck! They’re still--”
He runs out of the room, presumably to save some sort of whatever from burning and Wirt sits quietly, staring at the photos on the opposite wall. None of them have poses, they’re all a hundred percent in the moment. Dipper always emphasizes authenticity over being able to see everyone in a non-blurry state and it’s lovely to listen to him talk about photography and all but it also makes for some interesting pictures. They’ve made a lot of memories, both their siblings featuring heavily in the photos of mini golf games and throwing one another in pools and generally laughing and causing trouble. He’s not in the Unknown. They’re not trapped anymore and while he may have lost a lot of time… He’s more than made up for it. And it’s little days like this that maybe shouldn’t be seen as bad ones but as reminders. Ones where he can reflect on just how much he’s gained and realize that maybe they’ve earned a break or two. He tells Dipper to rest constantly and that he’s doing incredibly especially considering the hell they’ve been through so why not extend that to himself? It’s not fair to Dipper to come home wrecked emotionally even though he’s more than willing to help, but Dipper does it too so maybe they’re just. They're a little messed up. Two people like them would never be able to live a normal life, but Wirt can almost picture it sitting here with a warm drink in his hands listening to his husband tell some cookies to fuck off.
Dipper finally comes back into the room with a plate of cookies and a can of spray whipped cream. He places the cookies on the table before turning to Wirt to hand over the can while waggling his eyebrows suggestively, barely suppressing a laugh.
Wirt puts some on his hot chocolate and throws it back. “No, you aren’t even allowed to joke about that. Never again. Do you even remember—? Plus you know we’re both—“
Dipper catches it easily and laughs. “How could I forget?”
“Then don’t act like it wasn’t your fault! I was ready a-and willing and honestly my part was flawless you’re the one who couldn’t stop laughing—“ He sighs. “Besides considering we’re both like as asexual as it gets I don’t know why we even attempted, not that we even got very far, but still.“
“My fault?” Dipper’s eyes widen and he slams the can onto the table. “Shit ...Oh yeah. I honestly forgot about... but it was your idea! And it’s a sliding scale and all that you know? I thought it’d be like the kissing we’re both fine with that. More than fine even! And I mean considering like the ratio of the human body just the arms are uh that’s fairly far I would say.”
“I know it was my... Don’t remind me. I just thought it would be uhm I dunno I saw it in something I read and I was like ‘oh let’s try this! But modified for us, why not? We’ll just see what works, we’re both mature adults’ and turns out that is not the case. I still think I have more blackmail on you, though, mister ‘ticklish literally everywhere’. Ugh the media was wrong, and I took like seven showers and I still think part of my elbow is still sticky.” He tries to keep a light tone, lifting his mug to his face to hide the blush, but Dipper’s face is a deepening pink to match his own.
“No yeah, that’s probably for the best that we don’t. I can’t believe I forgot about that.” He coughs and avoids meeting Wirt’s eyes, curling in on himself at the opposite end of the couch. Wirt takes the opportunity to crawl over and press a kiss onto his husband’s lips.
He reciprocates instantly and it’s soft, familiar. It’s not fireworks and light. It’s not butterflies and confessions of love and a million other metaphors about lightning and seeing the universe for the first time. It’s picking up a well worn novel, it’s the reason you pick up a blanket you’ve had for a decade instead of using the new one, it’s coming home after a long day… It’s just comfort and warmth. Wirt can taste the chocolate and a hint of that chapstick he bought last week, the kind Dipper always steals because he refuses to get his own. “Why get rid of the excuse to steal it from your lips?” “Since when do you need an excuse?”
They break apart after a moment, not several moments, not after a heated make out session, just after one kiss. That’s it. They don’t need anything more than that when there’s going to be hundreds more. Not when there’s hot cocoa on the counter and conversations to be had. That’s what they both need right now. To remember that they can easily pick right back up where they left off whenever they want, it’s something more than they’d ever hoped for years ago. Every second could have been their last, but now they take the time to pause when they can just purely because they can . They risked their lives over and over for that guaranteed time. It’s not the type of thing they’d put in a cute movie, but it is romance, for them at least. For two people who never dreamed of having a guaranteed tomorrow and are now trying to take advantage of it.
Several minutes later, Dipper takes one of the cookies which are yeah they’re pretty crispy. But that’s not like the norm or anything, he was always halfway decent, but after several more years investing in the hobby, Dipper got pretty damn good. Not professional level or anything, but the couple recipes he knows how to do he does really well. “I can’t believe you’re upset about-- Dipper you’re literally the best I know, not that I know many people who can bake with anything resembling skill, but even okay they’re sorta burnt but to be fair we were outside and you’ve still managed to make the best hot chocolate anyone’s ever made.” He takes a pointed sip at Dipper’s reddening face knowing exactly what he’s gonna say. “Don’t try to deny it there’s no powder bag thing this could have come from. I know yours. You shove like the amount of vanilla that is half a drop away from being enough to hurt someone and it’s perfect .”
Dipper runs a hand through his hair and shrugs, tapping along the sides of the cup. “Well I uh it’s not-- Okay fine yeah sure I may have wanted… Look, I’m picky and I had the time. I probably could have saved the cookies but I was very busy with much more pressing matters and plus they were like the sugar ones so it’s not like any good cookies were harmed.”
Wirt sighs and places his mug on the table before turning around to lay back on Dipper, his head on his chest and a blanket thrown over the top of them. Wirt feels his eyes fluttering shut as a hand runs through his hair and he exhales all the anxieties that have been consuming him the past few hours.
It’s incredible how easily, effortlessly Dipper is able to calm him down when all the techniques in the world weren’t working. He turns and looks up at him, reaching to gently guide Dipper’s face down to meet his eyes. “I love you.”
“I know.” And Wirt has to swallow down tears again because it’s not the smug teasing like one might expect from those words, it’s sincere and he stops the poetry on the tip of his tongue to take in this perfect wonderful being who knows him so well. It’s not a night for thinking over stanzas. He can just relax and breathe…
It’s a day where he needs to know Dipper is aware of his affections. That Wirt has never, will never take him for granted. Wirt wishes every second that he could do more, spends days longing to give Dipper that picture-perfect life he deserves. He could waltz into a room doing nothing at all and Wirt would feel compelled to give him the world, it’s just who he is. He’s the kindest, non-judgmental, quirky, and patient individual he’s ever met, who else could fall for a beast? And he had, all those years ago. Wirt was broken down to nothing but unending cold and hunger and Dipper looked at that kind of creature and showed him kindness, seeing the man behind the curse. The one that had been suffering and in pain since being stupid enough to grab that stupid piece of metal in a deal that fucked him over… Dipper said he knew the feeling and resolved to get him out and he just did, he decides to do something and he makes it happen.
Not only that but after they’d gotten out, Dipper stayed. He could have left, his heroic duty fulfilled and done, but he wanted him to stay with him, and Wirt has been at a loss for words ever since. He slowly feels the constant anxiety, that fear that one day Dipper will find out he’s too much to deal with and walk out and he’ll never see him again— It ebbs away with every reminder of just how tied together they are now and usually now sits as more of a memory of fear than a constant presence.
It’s taken years to get that attuned to one another, but those are the benefits of a long relationship. It’s not all about losing the romance, that spark because that spark grows into a wildfire of love and understanding. Why long for a brief flicker every time you touch when you could wake up to the same face every morning? When you could be with someone who knows you better than everyone else, who speaks your love language with perfect fluency. Both of them have always been the committed type and easily fell into a lasting bond. They might be unable to tell one from the other, wrapped up like they are, but it's less frightening, and just familiar, comfortable. They aren't feeling butterflies with every glance or stealing kisses with each breath, but they know this will last, their spark has grown and steadied into a burning flame that the shadows can’t touch anymore.