dedication-
this took forever, but would definitely not be possible without my fantastic Sophie. there's almost nobody in the world that means as much to me as you do, and I can't thank you enough for everything you do for me. this may be six months late, but in the grand scheme of things I think we have time because I have a feeling we'll be together a long, long time. we have beyond a lot of inside jokes, and I don't think I would be the person I am right now without you. this is super sap and ugly af but there's really nothing more I can say, I honestly love you so much & am super grateful to have met you. this is my tribute to how we met, viva la wendip.
-your mr. salamander
If only Dipper hadn't opened the door.
There were plenty of old rooms in the Mystery Shack. Dipper and Mabel knew them all; they were in the Mystery Shack 24/7 for three full months straight. Wendy knew about a good number of them, too; she had been working there for years. But when Dipper couldn't find her when she was on the clock, there was only one room she would be in. So, when Dipper wanted to ask Wendy about a concert coming up in Gravity Falls and if the band playing was any good, and she wasn't at the cash register or in the bathroom, he went to the large room in the middle of the small, lost hallway. As he approached it, he heard mumbling from inside, so he assumed she was on the phone with one of her teen friends, as usual. That was NOT the case.
Dipper did not expect, when he opened the door, to see Wendy with both her shirt and bra off, with them laying a few feet away from her on the floor, facing away from him with her hand in Robbie's pants, pushed against the opposite wall.
He stifled a yelp as he watched Robbie, with his eyes closed, moan, "Wendy- oh, Wendy, I- oh my god, yes, Wendy, yes!" Wendy mumbled something Dipper couldn't make out and swallowed his own puke as they kissed, hard. Dipper felt the same way he did during the previous school year, when he tried watching porn and masturbating because of peer pressure. He felt like he did in that moment—like he was watching a really, really, bad porno, and that he needed to stop, immediately.
Dipper cleared his throat, which startled the pair. Robbie's eyes whipped open, and Wendy's head and a bit of her upper body whipped around, her eyes looking like a deer caught in a headlight. Dipper caught a glance of her breast before she hastily moved her arm to cover it, both of them blushing furiously at being caught.
"Ugh, this kid," Robbie complains.
Wendy looks down in shame, then looks back up to meet Dipper's eyes. "I'll- I'll be out in, like, 10 minutes, okay? Can you cover for me, Dipper?" He meekly nods, looking at his feet, and rushes out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. As he walks away, he hears murmurs then a soft thud, meaning someone was pushed to the wall again. He shakes his head and retreats back to the gift shop, where Stan is standing, looking around.
"Dipper! Where's Wendy? She's supposed to be manning the cash register!" Stan asks him, looking annoyed. Dipper's insides crack a little bit as he plays the part he always does, the fool: "She's in the bathroom. I don't think she feels all that great. I'll take the cash register until she gets back."
When Wendy and Robbie walk into the gift shop, acting casual but careful, Dipper quickly moves out from behind the cash register to the door, grabbing a leaf blower on his way out. He doesn't look at the pair of them once, nor does he talk to Wendy for the rest of the day, even after Robbie leaves. She doesn't try to talk to him, either.
That night, not for the first time, Dipper lay awake thinking about Wendy. He thinks about the way that the light reflected off Wendy's bare chest, the way the blush spread across her cheeks and through her ears and to her neck. He thinks about the way Robbie moaned her name, like it wasn't the first time he has done so. He thinks about her bra, lacey and unlike something it would seem to him she would normally wear, and wonders if she had planned that. Come to think about it, he thinks that day may have been some sort of an anniversary for them. He wonders how far they would have went in that room, how far they've already went, how far they went after he left. There was a couch in that room, after all. There was no limits, and a lock on the door. There's no telling what could have happened. Dipper's mind drifts back to Wendy's chest, and the way her breast looked. Even though he only saw one, he can imagine both. Easily. He feels the familiar feeling all pre-teen boys become best friends with as his pants tighten a bit, and he sighs and flips over. Mabel hears him, and clicks on a night light, sitting up.
"What's wrong, broseph?" she asks, looking a bit concerned. Dipper sits up as well, but is careful to keep his light blanket on his lap. Mabel notices but doesn't say anything, instead letting her eyes drift from his lap up to his face, scanning his face for any idea of what emotions he's feeling. He sighs again and scrunches his eyebrows, leaning back against the wall.
"Wendy again, huh?" she asks, used to their late-night talks about his infatuation with the redhead.
"Yeah, it's just—I walked in on her and Robbie, like, getting busy, you know, and it's just—it's really bothering me," he says, not even bothering to try to sugar coat it or hide what's wrong.
"How busy?" she asks.
"She was half naked with her hands inside his pants," he says. Mabel turns away.
"You can't act like you didn't know that she's gone to the nether regions of other boys, Dipper," she says. "You know she dates a lot of guys, you know how the sophomores back home are, and there's no way someone as smart as you wouldn't make assumptions. I'm not saying she's a slut, or anything, but there's no way you're surprised."
He's silent for a minute, then says, "Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Mabe." She turns off the light in response. As an afterthought, she says, "Love you, Dipper."
"Love you too, Mabel."
Dipper went on ignoring Wendy for three days, brushing off all of her comments and attempts to hang out with a single word or a short sentence. After it was clear Dipper would not be talking to her without her explaining herself to him without his prompting, Wendy followed him to the roof on his lunch break, leaving Mabel in charge of the gift shop.
Dipper sits on the opposite side of the roof to the entrance, feet dangling off the edge, staring at the horizon with a turkey sandwich in his lap, uneaten. Wendy stealthily darts across the roof and settles herself a few feet away from Dipper, her feet tucked underneath her. Dipper, clearly startled, turns towards her in alarm, slightly relaxing when he sees who it is.
"God, Wendy," he says, turning back to watch the over the trees. It's silent for a moment; he talked, but that's all he's going to say. He's waiting for her. She lets the silence go on for a bit longer, then clears her throat. He doesn't turn his head, but his neck perks up a bit, and his arms stiffen, so she knows he's listening.
"Dipper, are you seriously mad at me about walking in on- on Robbie and I?" she says, her ears turning as red as her hair. He nods slightly.
"Why? I mean, it's my relationship and my decisions. I know you and Robbie don't like each other, but can you be a good friend and try to get past it?" she pleads, putting emphasis on the word friend.
Dipper sighs, then turns and looks Wendy in the eye for the first time in three days. "Okay, Wen. Just for you."
"Thanks, Dipper," Wendy says, and smiles at the use of his nickname for her and leans over and hugs him, a long hug that lingers a bit longer than was probably necessary. The only reason she pulls away is the arrival of Robbie at the door beneath them. Robbie squints up at them, and realization clearly writes jealously on his face.
"Wendy?" he says, half screeching. "Come down from there and that twerp and greet a real man!"
Dipper looks at Wendy and they share the understanding that no matter how hard Dipper tries, they'll never get along. So Dipper never tries, and maybe it's better that way.
