Notes: Finally caved and decided to post this on my FF account. Explicit, sexual material ahead, my friends. Proceed with caution.

This is a noncanon spin-off to the Defining Bill Cipher universe. Please enjoy.

...

A small part of Bill realized what he was doing was what many would consider 'wrong', but his curiosity overpowered his erratic moral compass. After a split second of hesitation, he approached the greyscale version of the Mystery Shack, opening the door that led to Dipper's subconscious.

During one conversation over dinner, Dipper had leaned over and mumbled something to Mabel, something that caused her to snort up her fruit juice. When Bill had asked, the two had stoutly refused to tell him what was so funny, convincing him that whatever it was was something about him.

Bill agonized over it for the remainder of the evening. No amount of prodding would convince Dipper to spill the beans, and when they both curled up in bed, even the threat of no cuddling that night wouldn't loosen his tongue. Dipper just laughed, kissed his neck, and said good night, flipping off the lights. After a few minutes of stubborn silence, Bill wriggled until he was close enough that Dipper could wrap his arm around him, as he did, pulling him against his chest with naught but a chuckle.

What if he was laughing at me? What if he was making fun of me? Bill squirmed with insecurity.How dare they keep secrets from me? How dare they insult me? Well they're not going to get away with it! I'm going to get to the bottom of this. I'll show them that there's no hiding anything from Bill Cipher!

That was when Bill decided a trip into the Mindscape was in order. Once he was sure Dipper had fallen asleep, he began to focus. Sure enough, when he finally sunk into sleep as well, he found himself standing before the warped Mystery Shack of Dipper's mind.

Was it an abuse of power? Sure. Could it potentially ruin the relationship with the man he loved? Absolutely. But Bill was a creature of impulse, and the minute he knew a secret was being kept from him, he would do everything in his power to ferret it out. Besides, it's not like Pine Tree will ever find out. The sooner I put this matter to rest, the better.

So the search was on. After finding the entrance to Dipper's memories, he would open every door he came across, trying to pinpoint the memory of the conversation from last night. He figured it would be a quick search; find the memory, eavesdrop on the conversation, confirm that Dipper wasn't talking about him behind his back, and go to sleep happy.

But the more he searched, the more lost he became. After being gone from the Mindscape for so long, it was more difficult to guess its unpredictability. He'd find a memory from eight years ago running parallel to one from just the other day. An image of Dipper and Mabel entering a hot dog eating contest was overlapped with the time the three of them went to the lake last week. He couldn't make sense of it.

"What are you doing in here?"

Bill whirled around, his heart pounding in his chest, to find Dipper staring at him from across the hall. It took a moment for him to realize it was just a memory that happened to be looking at him through a doorway. It was the time he, Dipper, and Mabel had gone on a picnic. He slumped with relief. This place is getting to me. He was about to move on when he heard a distinctive throat clearing.

"Uh, hey? I'm talking to you, Bill." The Dipper stood up from the picnic blanket, still staring directly at him. The Bill from the memory looked up from his hamburger, only for the Dipper to wave him off. "Not you you, Bill. I'll catch you guys later." And then he stepped through the doorway and into the hall, the real Bill stepping away until his back was pressed against the wall. "Sooo, care to explain yourself there?"

"I-I, uh …" The words got caught in Bill's throat. He coughed as an excuse to look away, and proceeded to start walking towards another door. "Personally I don't think that's any of your business."

"Umm, whose mind is it? I think I have all the business."

Bill opened another door instead of answering, groaning when it was just another memory of the lake trip. The Dipper in the memory was standing on the shore, wearing nothing but his trunks and applying sunscreen to his chest. Oh. Oh, hello. A familiar heat curled in his stomach as he shamelessly continued to stare. It took a tap to the shoulder to rouse him.

"You trying to get me jealous or something?" The Dipper in the hallway murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. The heat from Bill's stomach transferred to his face, and he spluttered indignantly.

"It's you, you idiot! How can you possibly be jealous?"

"What can I say? I'm the jealous type."

At first, Bill was severely confused when Dipper's mouth didn't move, but his unspoken question was answered when he looked over to discover the shirtless Dipper standing right in front of him. Bill choked on a yell and jumped back.

"Sooo, is there any particular reason you're snooping around in my head?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"That's what I've been trying to figure out," said the other Dipper. Bill shook himself, wondering if it was best to leave now, but then his stubbornness set in.

"Look," he said, continuing down the hall and opening every other door. The Dippers followed after him. "I'm just … trying to answer a few questions, alright? It's not even my fault, really," he added, opening a memory of the two of them cuddling on the couch wearing pajamas and watching horror movies. "It's just a flaw of the human brain, it overthinks everything and insecurity runs rampant, what can I do?"

"You're feeling insecure about something?" The voice whispered into his right ear. A hand slipped underneath his sweater collar, rubbing small circles on his chest. "You know you can always talk to me about it, right?" Another voice whispered into his left ear, and he couldn't suppress his shiver.

"You would just laugh at me," Bill insisted, a quaver in his voice. Shaking off the two, he moved to close the door, but a hand on the other side stopped him.

"What is going on out here?" Dipper, clad in his pajamas, poked his head out of the memory, and Bill groaned.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on out here! Why can't you bozos stay in your memories where you belong?" Bill stomped away, making a sharp right at the end of the hall. He randomly opened doors, barely giving himself enough time to determine what memory he was in before slamming them shut again. Where the Hell is it? I just want one memory! Why is this so difficult?

The trio of Dippers followed after him, whispering amongst themselves. He was too far away to eavesdrop and he refused to slow down to try. One of them snickered. They're talking about me, aren't they? About how I'm such a fucking idiot, right? He stuffed his hands in his pockets, insecurity swarming over him. And I am a fucking idiot, what am I even doing in here?

A distinctive cough caught his attention. When he turned around, not only were the original three Dippers still following him, but two more had appeared. "Where the hell did you two come from?" he shouted, throwing his arms out. "Are you guys breeding now?"

More laughter. Bill flushed with embarrassment and anger.

"It's okay, Bill." A Dipper wearing a winter coat held up his hands, his expression gentle. "We just heard you were milling around and wanted to investigate."

"You know …" The fifth Dipper, the one wearing reading glasses (God, I could just melt right here), sauntered towards him, hand to his chin. A secretive smile curled his lips. "You really aren't supposed to be in here."

Bill cleared his throat and looked away. "Yeah, well, I'm-I'm just…" He trailed off as Dipper gently took his face, lingering above his mouth for a second before pressing his lips against his own. It was a slow, hesitative kiss, and Bill quickly responded, closing his eyes and parting his mouth. He jumped when a body pushed against his back, sandwiching him. A separate pair of lips nibbled his ear, hands creeping up underneath his sweater.

"You think too much, Bill."

More hands began touching him, more lips kissing his body. He pulled away from the kiss, breathless. "W-what are you—?"

Without warning, two of the Dippers grabbed his arms, and he found himself being pulled backwards. He nearly tripped over his feet. "Whoa, whoa, what is—?"

"We hate to have to do this, Bill," said the Dipper to his left, in a tone that in no way hinted at regret.

"But you are trespassing," said another he couldn't see, in a tone as equally gleeful. "And, well, we've decided that you need to be punished."

Punished? Something told him that the horde of Dippers didn't have an Iron Maiden in mind. He doesn't actually mean …? His stomach tingled at the thought. They opened a door, and the next thing he knew, they were in the attic bedroom and he was being pushed onto the bed.

"Do I not eve—" He grunted as they yanked his sweater over his head. Three different sets of hands stroked his chest, with another pair yanking down his pants and underwear. "D-do I not even get a say in th-this?"

"You have all the power here, Bill." The first Dipper leered over him, smiling in a way that made Bill hurt with arousal. "You can stop this whenever you want. You have full control."

One of them pulled his hands behind his back, and he heard the click of handcuffs being locked.

"Unless, of course, you don't want control."

Bill exhaled haggardly as they pushed him back on the bed. Five pairs of familiar, warm brown eyes stared down at him, expressions contorted with overpowering lust. He smirked.

"I see."

They attacked.

…

The sheets were drenched with sweat, and the air saturated with the smell of sex. The room was filled with the sound of Bill's moans as the five naked versions of the man he loved thoroughly fucked his mind out of his head.

One of them thrusted in and out of Bill in steady rhythm. Two of the others held his legs over their shoulders, spreading them, rotating between taking him into their mouths and nibbling along his inner thigh. Occasionally they would bump heads with both of their tongues on his flushed cock as they fought to take their turn.

The fourth one trailed open mouthed kisses along his torso, dipping his tongue in his naval, sucking his nipples until they were raw. The fifth alternated between kissing him until he couldn't breathe and biting his neck. He would sometimes whisper in his ear.

"You make the best sounds, Bill," he said, dragging his tongue across his collarbone. One of the Dippers took his whole cock into his mouth, and Bill's eyes rolled back in his head. "I love the sound of your voice. Can you say my name again? Please?"

"D…Dippe-aaaahhmmngh!" Bill's body, slick with sweat and saliva, seized as Dipper sank into him as deep as he could go, his groin flush against his backside. Stars exploded under his eyes.

"I didn't catch that."

"Mmmngh. Aaah! D-Dipper—"

"Good, that's just what I wanted." He ran a hand through Bill's damp hair, angling his head. He kissed him, plundering his mouth until Bill's chest felt like bursting. When he pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connected the two. Bill quivered, his lower body pulsating with pressure.

"Ah, a—" His breathless panting was cut off by another fierce kiss. The pressure continued building until Bill was sure he would black out, feeling like he was free falling. He came into one of the Dippers' mouth, who swallowed loudly and lapped his lower lip, smiling with half lidded eyes. Bill collapsed into a boneless heap of trembling flesh, unable to speak or think.

"I think this is the longest that he's lasted," one of them noted.

"I dunno, he lasted a bit longer in the fourth round."

"You would think that."

"Move over, it's my turn now …"

There was a shuffling noise, and a pair of hands flipped the limp Bill onto his stomach, spreading his legs apart. Someone sighed. "Do you have to be so rough with him?"

"What? You know he likes it."

"That's true."

"He does like it rough."

Three fingers slipped inside of him. Bill moaned into the drenched pillow. A chuckle. "Do you like it when I touch you like this, Bill?"

Yes, yes. Please, Dipper. He could only nod, begging him with his body to go faster. "Mmm. I'm not sure I understand, Bill. I could always stop if you …" the fingers slowed, and Bill whined at the loss. Another laugh, and the hand resumed plunging into his body, undulating his hips.

"Wait a second, haven't you already gone once?"

"What?" The fingers slowed again, and Bill was on the verge of screaming. "No, you're thinking about that other guy."

"Nuh uh. Remember the thing we did where we licked his—"

"That was him, genius."

"Oh, right. But you still have definitely gone at least once."

"Well I haven't had a turn at all."

"You've gone twicealready. Go jerk off in the corner or something."

"Alright. Fine, whatever." One of the Dippers settled down next to him. Bill watched as he reached his hand down between his legs. He looked Bill in the eye as he pleasured himself, face flushing and breathing heavily. "Bill …"

Bill stared, hypnotized by the display. He tried to move his hands, only to be restrained. He snarled and buried his face in the pillow, rutting his painful erection into the bed.

They were still arguing. "You can't just jump to the front of the line, we need to keep things fair."

"He only lasted five minutes with me, but you got him for eight minutes. How's that for f—ah ah, hey, no no—"

One of them grabbed his hips and hoisted him up on his knees, robbing him of his friction. A hand stroked him at a pace they know is too damn slow—

"Why don't you both just go at the same time?"

Bill almost came again at the thought.

"That's not the issue here. You can't just switch whenever he—"

"Maybe if you weren't so impatient we could—"

"What—?"

"Would somebody just FUCK ME ALREADY?!"

The arguing ceased. Bill squirmed with frustration. There was a small chuckling as the fingers pulled out (and Bill was going to fucking bite something now) only to be replaced by a cock. Bill choked, moan muffled by the pillow. Without warning, something pulled him up by his shoulders and he sank down into one of their laps.

The hands resumed their stroking along his chest and down his legs. "Sorry Bill," Dipper murmured against his lips. Their teeth clacked as Bill was lifted up and plunged back down, again and again. Bill's response was swallowed when his legs were pulled opened and a set of hot, wet tongues ran across his dripping cock.

…

The torture ended much later with Bill splayed in the bed, convinced he would be dead if he were in the real world. There are worse ways of dying. The handcuffs were gone. Only one Dipper remained, fully clothed, stroking Bill's mussed hair and humming under his breath.

"Have you learned your lesson, Bill?"

"Hnngh?" Bill opened one eye, staring at him blearily. "'Don't go into your boyfriend's mind unless you want to be fucked into a coma'?"

Dipper chuckled, moving his hand to massage Bill's shoulder. "Sure, that'll work. Seriously." He tightened his grip. "Don't this again. Talk to me next time if you're feeling insecure."

Bill nodded, too tired to even think of arguing. Dipper smiled, and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his temple. Then, he pressed his lips against his ear. "It was a joke, you know?"

"What?"

"What I had said at dinner. It was just a really bad joke about corncobs. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd lose respect if you heard such a terrible joke from me."

With a final, lingering kiss he left the room, leaving Bill alone with his thoughts. After a time, Bill looked up, propping himself on his elbows. "But what was the joke?"

No answer.

"Hello?"

Silence. Bill fell back into the bed, unable to summon the willpower to even care as he waited to wake up.

...

Notes: Bill didn't have sex for a week after that. Lesson learned, indeed.