Chapter Text
Rain pitter-pattered on the roof of the car, drumming a fast, steady beat, whilst Dipper leaned back and waited for the sky to clear. An hour they had been stuck for now, and no sign of it letting up anytime soon. Water cascaded down the windshield, effectively acting as a curtain impossible to see through. Bill and he had to stop in some desolate, lonely country road in the middle of nowhere Nebraska, stranded in a storm completely blind to the world outside.
“It’s not even a cool storm,” Bill muttered as he peered out the window. “It’s rain. Just rain. No thunder, no lightning, you can’t even see the animals drown! This is so boring!” He flopped back in his seat, deflating like a punctured balloon.
“Only you would be happy to watch animals die...” Dipper was torn between disapproval and laughter. He settled for sighing.
Bill shrugged. “Here? It’s all rats and mice anyway. Plenty of those in the world, so who cares really?”
“Mabel would,” Dipper said.
“Hmm...” he considered it for a bit. “She would, wouldn’t she?”
Dipper had nothing to respond to that, they both knew the answer after all, and so they fell silent.
Then Bill had to reach for the radio.
Dipper slapped his wrist before he could press the “on” button, and the blonde flinched back.
“Piiiiiiiiiiine Treeeeeeeeeeeee...” he whined, holding his wrist.
“No! Hell no! I’ve had enough of your sing-along to last a lifetime! You are not touching that radio!”
Bill stuck his tongue out. “Party pooper.”
“Ass wipe,” the response was almost immediate, for the number of times he’d been called that. “Learn how to hit a note first.”
“But I need something to do!” the blonde pouted.
“What about the 3DS? It’s in the back of the car, right?”
“Forgot to charge it at the last motel...”
“’Course you did...” he sighed. Again. “And the books we brought? They’re somewhere back here I think...” he twisted around to peek over his shoulder. He internally groaned at the mess in the backseat; candy wrappers, blankets, the odd wire here and there. They’d have to clean that up at their next stop.
He couldn’t find the bag containing the books. As he turned back, he saw Bill grimacing. “Lovecraft’s only interesting for a time,” he said. “I’ve read them all anyways.”
“I already told you, the radio stays off.”
“Entertain me then!” Bill threw his arms up in the air, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
“No! Why don’t you just go to sleep? It’s, like, midnight anyways. We’ve been up since six in the morning, aren’t you tired?”
“...”
“Bill?”
“No. I don’t want to.”
“...Okaaaaay?”
Bill curled up on himself in his seat, arms around his knees, and didn’t respond. He stared out the window, completely silent, face frozen in an unreadable neutral expression. If Dipper had known that that was all it took to shut the guy up, he would’ve done it ages ago. Yet, Bill’s unnatural silence made him feel guilty for some reason as well.
He knew the blonde had nightmares, almost constantly actually. He’d toss and turn in the backseat, whimpering and sometimes even pleading, but then he’d wake up and be his usual chipper, energetic, kind-of-annoying-at-times self again. When pressed, he explained that the nightmares didn’t bother him in the least anymore, and Dipper had dropped the subject at that. No need to know what exact terrors Bill’s mind could conjure.
Obviously though, something had changed since that last conversation. Bill was never afraid of sleep, and yes, Bill had definitely been afraid just then. Maybe his brain had finally created something that really shook him up. What that was however, Dipper couldn’t even fathom.
They didn’t speak for the next twenty minutes, and each second made Dipper feel guiltier and guiltier for crossing a line he didn’t even know was there. Logically speaking, he should’ve gotten annoyed that Bill was giving him the silent treatment for no discernible reason whatsoever, but then Bill never gave him the silent treatment. He loved the sound of his own voice too much for that to happen. Either way, this new experience really made Dipper nervous.
Maybe he should apologize? For what exactly? Maybe try for a conversation? Small talk? Bill hated that, and so did Dipper. He was way too awkward of a person to not flounder and make an embarrassment out of himself.
God, this relationship was confusing.
He smiled at the thought, and his fingers stopped from where they were drumming on the window sill. Relationship, yeah. The concept was such a new one, it felt surreal at times. If a year ago, someone had told him he’d be dating his childhood frenemy (if not borderline enemy at times), he’d have laughed in their face before tripping over his own two feet running away, because was his crush really that obvious oh my god?!
And now here they were, on a road trip for the west to east coast, an outing suggested by Mabel to celebrate their graduation from university (but was actually a ploy to try and matchmake them, her brother suspected); Dipper in English Literature, and Bill in History and Economics. Mabel was doing her own party thing in Disney Land with Pacifica, which left both he and Bill on this trip alone, together, trapped in an enclosed space. Mabel’s gonna freak once I tell her her plan worked, Dipper thought.
Still, that didn’t solve the problem at hand, and Dipper was completely stumped on that front. Small talk it was then. Hopefully, he wouldn’t want the earth swallow him whole once he was done. What was he going to talk about, anyway? The weather? He scoffed at the idea. Maybe he could just ask a penny for a thou--
“What if your legs didn’t know they were legs?”
“What the fuck, Bill.”
Come to think of it, Dipper didn’t want to know.
Bill turned around to face him, eyes wide and grinning. At least he was back to normal, and Dipper breathed a metaphorical sigh of relief.
“Let’s play a game!” Bill was practically jumping up and down in excitement.
“What kind of game...?” he leaned back, suspicious, but curious nonetheless.
“The ‘what if?’ game, duh!”
“What? No! You always win at that one!” It was true. The ‘what if?’ game consisted of coming up with the weirdest, dumbest, randomest questions, so of course Bill scored higher.
“That’s what makes it so fun, Pine Tree!” he laughed. “Awww... But don’t worry, you’ve got a pretty twisted mind yourself from time to time!”
Dipper grimaced. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’ll go first.” Bill sat back in his seat, eyes upwards and a finger under his chin, pensive. “Let’s see... Do you think goose bumps for blind people are just like reading a bunch of jumbled letters?”
Dipper groaned. “Bill, I’m not playing this.”
“No fun, Pine Tree,” he pouted. “But your reactions are funny. I can think up enough for the both of us, anyways.”
“Bill...”
“If a car goes at sixty-two miles per hour and there’s a fly in the car, does that mean the fly flies at over sixty-two miles per hour?”
“Bill, no.”
“If you had a massive aquarium in space, and you took out the aquarium so all that’s left is a glob of water with a fish in it, does the fish know it’s in space?”
“Bill, stop.”
“Could you make a face look like someone else’s face if you tattooed on another person’s face?“
“Oh my god.”
“Do you think tyrannosauruses had cavities because their arms were so small they couldn’t reach with the dental flo--“
Okay. Enough was enough.
Dipper grabbed Bill by the sweater and crashed his lips onto his. It wasn’t gentle, far from it actually; teeth clacking together, noses awkwardly pressing against the other’s cheeks, and Bill’s hands slipping off-balance, flailing, and coming to a rest on both Dipper’s thigh and the car’s dashboard.
Dipper just wondered why they hadn’t done this sooner.
Bill made a surprised sound at the back of his throat, before positively melting against Dipper, his body shifting to face his boyfriend, one hand sliding down Dipper’s thigh and the other brushing his cheek. He tilted his head to the side, lips sliding into a gentler press against Dipper’s own, and the latter could see Bill’s eyes flutter closed. He shut his own soon after, smiling into the kiss, all his senses zeroing in on Bill and Bill alone.
He lifted his hands to the back of Bill’s neck, absently toying with the short locks of hair there, sending shivers up the blonde’s spine and making him open his mouth in a gasp. Dipper took the opportunity, tongue smooth and warm, tracing each and every tooth languidly, and Bill moaned. He pulled Dipper closer, arm around the waist, gripping the back of his head, almost tugging at his hair, and lazily fought for dominance. He caught Dipper’s bottom lip between his own, and gently bit down, and it was Dipper’s turn to shudder and moan.
They pulled away, panting and speechless. They were close enough so that their noses still brushed against each other as they breathed in the other’s air, and suddenly Dipper felt as if they were stuck in a sauna. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Neither moved from where they were leaning over the center console, simply staring at each other with half-lidded eyes.
“Pine--“
“Shut up and kiss me again,” Dipper breathed.
Bill leaned back in, eyes transfixed on Dipper’s lips. “Okay.”
He did kiss him again. And again. And again. And again.
Neither of them noticed the cloud-free sky, nor the stars shining overhead.