It was a little surprising Stan decided he'd be in charge of the kids again after telling him to leave those two alone, but Bill chalked that up to desperation since Stan and Ford had taken Soos out for firearm training. How embarrassing, having to be taken out for training when he should already know how to operate a gun.
With those three gone, it just left him with the kids and Red and a day off to do whatever they wanted while they awaited the others' return. Red was sitting in the armchair with a magazine, meanwhile Shooting Star and Pine Tree were both taking up the majority of the sofa with how they were spread out. The little fuckers, they were starting to act like they owned the place.
"I'm bored!" said Mabel from her spot on the sofa, her legs hooked over the backside while she laid upside-down on the cushions.
Similarly splayed out but with his legs draped over the armrest, Dipper tilted his head to glance at her. "You've been texting Pacifica all evening. How can you be bored?"
And speaking of texting, if Robbie didn't stop blowing up his phone with reminders of heist details, Bill was going to put a bullet through Robbie's thick skull. He was getting sick of his phone vibrating about shit he already knew. "She's probably bored because she and Pacifica aren't in bed together, like, right now." His tone had changed, mimicking a teenage girl's voice.
"There's more to dating than jumping into bed," Dipper pointed out dryly, "but I guess you try to get the lesser disappointment out of the way first."
Across the couch, Mabel fell into a fit of giggles. "Being in bed with Pacifica would be fun right now! Maybe Dipper can walk in like he always used to when I had dates over!" It was interesting how that small comment elicited a full-out whine from Dipper, and he mentally noted he'd have to probe at that sometime. Seemed like a sore spot. He liked those vulnerabilities when it came to the kid since his ego could stand to be knocked down a couple pegs from time to time.
"Sorry cutie," Bill said with some smugness. He couldn't help it– Dipper made it so easy. "I know you're jealous of my ability to get more action than you, and I don't even have a sister to share her experience with."
Dipper's eyes flashed with mischievousness as they settled on him. "Bet that's kind of a let down for a Southerner like you."
"Roll tide!" Mabel piped in before going back to her phone, but Bill shook his head.
"Not from Alabama, doesn't work here." It was hard to contain his laughter though. Bill mused to himself how he bet the twins knew all about incest with how close they were, he'd walked in on them asleep, spooning on the sofa more than once now. And thinking back, Dipper didn't look half bad as a little spoon... maybe he could get himself some of that, they would probably fit together quite nicely.
"Seriously, dude," Dipper started, almost hesitantly like he was wondering if he'd be corrected, "when you're at the point of having a heterosexual life partner, you're not getting any."
"That's what hookers are for, sugar. They love me. I even pay their cab fare."
At that, Wendy glanced up from her magazine. "Actually… you pay for a quarter of their cab fare and kick them out of the penthouse. You don't even pay them for the sex."
"Shut it, Red," he grumbled, bristling at Wendy's intervention. "Go back to your ripoff Playgirl magazine, it's the only action you'll ever get since you'd make such a shitty housewife." He wasn't wrong, and judging by the look of surprise on Wendy's face, she obviously knew it too.
Tensing beside him, Dipper was shooting a warning glance in his direction that lingered for several seconds, as if silently scolding him for that biting comment. He and Wendy weren't on the best terms, so what? Wasn't any of this kid's business.
Instead of a serious verbal chastising like Bill had been expecting, Dipper's expression finally softened into something less harsh, which he figured meant he was off the hook for now. With a mock gasp and the tone of a nagging wife, Dipper said exaggeratedly, "You're sleeping with hookers, honey? I clean the house all day and cook for us, and you can't be bothered to be faithful."
Bill looked at him in amusement, skeptical of his claim that he cooked because not once had he done it in his presence. "When have you ever cooked a meal for us?"
"He does it all the time!" Mabel outed him before he could respond, Dipper suddenly looking sheepish. "He just saves the yummy food for when you're not here." Oh. That explained a lot. Bill was torn between being amused and being furious that Dipper would only cook when he wasn't around.
Wendy added, "Yeah, his cheesy jalapeño rice is pretty good."
"I should shove cheesy jalapeño rice down your throats and watch you choke," Bill muttered darkly. So what if maybe he was leaning toward furious, it wasn't his fault Dipper was a little bitch who cooked for everybody except him.
Glaring, Dipper didn't look pleased with his threat. "What's your deal, man?"
"I should be asking you that," Bill challenged, irked by this newfound betrayal. How could Dipper keep this from him? "Why am I the only one being left out of your meals, Pine Tree? What the fuck is up with that?"
"Maybe it's because you're cheating on me, your lovely and amazing housewife, with hookers."
"Oh, fucking please. You don't even know the last time I was with a whore."
"I know the last time you were with a fake whore."
"That was you," Bill was as agitated as he sounded, too focused on this to bother acknowledging Wendy's noise of confusion. Why were the hookers the issue right now? Dipper had intentionally gone behind his back with everyone else, cooking for them. "You were the crossdressing hooker, but that doesn't fucking matter. Why would you do that? Why would you… fucking go behind my back?" Quieter, with a hint of hurt to his words, he added, "I thought we were friends."
In the background, he could hear Mabel's quiet chant of: "Drama! Drama! Drama!"
"You know what, I'm not a part of this," Wendy said, returning to her magazine as if trying to tune it out.
Seemingly noticing the extent of his frustration, Dipper shifted until he was sitting upright and had moved closer, skinny-jeaned legs crossed. "Dude, chill," it was more hushed, like Dipper was trying to only have this conversation with him rather than the rest of the room. "What are you talking about?"
"You're intentionally doing shit without me." He wasn't going to hide the hurt in his voice, not that he could. It was something so small and he knew that, but he hated how out of the blue it was, how no one had thought or cared enough to tell him until now. Finding out through Mabel was a new low.
"Well, sometimes," he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, averting his gaze (a subtle movement not lost on Bill) in the process, "you're not here at dinner time." It held an inflection of guilt, a cop out answer.
He knew he was lying, could feel it in every fiber of his being. "I can't believe you," Bill said. "You're trying to pin this back on me? I might not be here twenty-four seven like you are, but that doesn't fucking mean I'm always gone for dinner. You just avoid making it around me."
The corners of Dipper's lips quivered, small twitches bringing them downward as his eyes grew glassy and his breathing hitched. Still unable to meet his eyes, his gaze dancing everywhere but on his. "Look," he swallowed, "it's… it's sort of because—"
"Tell me!" Bill almost sounded like Stan with how his voice boomed across the room, Dipper flinching back from the force of his demand. "You little fucker, tell me right fucking now or I swear to the stars I will leave." And not come back, because he didn't want to be around such toxic and heartless individuals.
"— because you'll make fun of me," snapped Dipper, harshly. "You'll start in on how feminine it is and fucking laugh at me until I want to die. There, happy?" Huffing angrily, Dipper shoved away from him and stalked into the kitchen without so much as a glance.
Mabel made a spectator's 'ooo' sound, watching the interaction. "Fight, fight, fight!" When did she become Stan? And here Stan thought he was spending too much time with Dipper, clearly those two were spending too much time together.
As angry as he was with the kid, it was probably a good idea to go after him if he wanted to get his pants in the future. Bill got to his feet and followed him into the kitchen, eyes sweeping the pristine room and landing on Dipper, who was hunched over a countertop with his head in his hands. "Would you really want to die, Pine Tree?" Bill asked, leaning against the wall.
Dipper peered at him for a long moment and eventually shrugged. "Maybe."
"Have you wanted to die because of being called feminine before?" Bill inquired further, wondering what was up with this kid. It seemed way overdramatic to wish for death over something so menial. And that was coming from him, the guy who admittedly had meltdowns over what some would consider minor issues.
"I used to get teased over not being manly enough," it was a guarded response, rather unemotional in nature, "but it's also because cooking is something I actually enjoy, and… if you get cruel over how feminine it might be, I'll probably feel like shit every time I cook after that and stop having fun doing it."
He was teased over his femininity and that was why he claimed he wanted to die? How pathetic. After a long moment of contemplation, he finally spoke, "If it means.. that much to you, I won't tease you about your cooking." For now, at least. Maybe if Dipper grew a pair that would change. "It's cute you cook– how'd you convince Stan to get real ingredients?"
"I just asked? You were there." Dipper sighed and shook his head. "Thanks, I guess, but…" he trailed off, worrying his lower lip, looking like he wanted to say more, but then it never came. "It doesn't matter."
"When I was there, Stan asked if you didn't like the free-for-all we had going. He never agreed to your demands, cutie." He was getting too soft with the kids, letting them push him around, succumbing to their crazy wishes. So much for being a feared crime boss.
"I don't know why you're so upset with me over this when you have a hobby you didn't tell me about." Dipper motioned through the doorway at the baby grand.
Over his shoulder, Bill glanced at the piano, his gaze hardening before it returned to Dipper. Who snitched? They were going to DIE for their betrayal. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't play the piano. Never have, never will."
"Mm-hmm, okay," he said skeptically, "so you're telling me it's fine if I just walk over here," and that shit actually brushed past him to start approaching the piano, his piano, "and play something?"
"I doubt you could play it right," Bill said tensely. "Your fingers are too noodly to play a decent tune, Pine Tree. You should go back to cooking. Or… pouting in the kitchen, or whatever you were doing." And stay away from his fucking piano.
"I don't know," Dipper's fingertips grazed the trim, they were damn near dancing along the smooth surface, "sounds like you wouldn't know the difference since you don't play it."
"I know the difference between having fingers and not having fingers, and you're awfully close to not having any. Hands off." Bill moved to join his side, smacking his hand away as he whipped out his handkerchief to wipe up the disgustingly greasy fingerprints Dipper left behind. "Don't touch my shit."
Dipper's eyebrows raised, the tiniest hint of a smile working its way onto his face. "I'm sure you could make even Chopin jealous."
"I'd rather die of tuberculosis first. Leave my shit alone, you hear me kid? Or I'll be Chopin off your fingers." Bill loathed the way his expression didn't falter in fear anymore, that dumb dreamy look plastered on his equally dumb face like he'd found something magnificent, those doe-eyes glittering with interest.
He hated him. A little. The vibrating of his phone in his pocket caught his attention, and he fished it out to see it was Robbie and wasn't sure who the lesser evil was, but didn't have much of a choice since Robbie was his boss. "I gotta take this kid. You better not touch the piano." Without waiting for Dipper to respond, he turned away and headed to the balcony door, accepting the call as he walked. "What do you want?"
"Is it too hard to respond to your texts? Are you even getting them?" The whine-train never stopped with Robbie Valentino. "Are you in or out for the heist? Need to know, like, now."
Choo choo.
Hopefully the train would derail over a cliff and Robbie would fucking die. "Of course I'm getting them, you fucking idiot. It's hard not to when you're sending a shit-ton of pointless details while I'm busy. Yes, I am down for the heist. Are you going to fuck off now?" Outside, the distant stars glimmered in the dark sky. It was disappointing he couldn't see more of them in the city, and he wondered if Dipper would be up for a coffee run after this. They could head toward the coastline and watch the stars for the evening, he liked the thought.
"See, you could've texted that so I wouldn't have to call and hear your dumbass voice." Ah, but he knew better. Robbie probably loved his dumbass voice, wanted it whispering sweet nothings into those pierced ears while he fucked him. Robbie switched topics, "What about those kids? They still with Stan?"
How stupid was Robbie? "Where else would they be? They're caged puppies, they're not going anywhere. Why?" Bill didn't understand his interest in this topic. It'd been like… two weeks or something, the kids clearly didn't know shit. They weren't a threat, but he knew Stan wanted to keep them until the political situation had settled.
"What the fuck, is he adopting them or something? They have to leave sometime."
"Sorry, Stacey. I know how much you want to adopt them, but Stan'll probably beat you to it."
There was a dangerous undertone to his voice. "Pentagram and I have been talking, we think they're too much of a risk."
Okay, now they were starting to sound paranoid. The kids, a risk? That'd be fun to play with and stir the pot a little, just the right amount to get a rise out of Robbie. "Oh, yes. They've been plotting on going to the police and submitting a report on what they remember. Which is everything, by the way."
"What? Holy—" There were scattered, vehement curses on the other side of the line, and a shrill demand from none other than Gideon, though it was too distant to be intelligible. "Are you shitting me? You've just been fine with that? You were there too."
Bill chuckled. The fact he believed him so easily was hilarious. "If shit hits the fan, it's on your ass, not mine. Unlike you, I don't flaunt my face around in public."
"Get rid of them."
Yawn. Robbie overreacting, as usual. Disinterested in the conversation and the specific instructions Robbie was giving him, Bill looked around the city, trying to pick out a coffee-and-stargaze location that Dipper might enjoy. And when he replied, it was a dismissive, "Okay. Anything else?" He wasn't going to kill the kids. Probably, really was dependent on how mouthy Dipper thought he could get with him. Despite Robbie's demand, Bill would rather sit back and see how things went with Shooting Star and Pine Tree. As far as he knew, Question Mark would be their killer, considering how shitty he was with weapons.
"No, just… text next time and make sure—"
Pulling the phone away from his ear mid sentence, he clicked the end call button. Thank stars that was over. Heading back inside, he noticed Wendy and the kids seemed to be getting ready to depart since they were hovering around the entryway of the penthouse. They were leaving without him? What heathens. Why were they always excluding him?
Wendy was the first to see he'd come back inside, and she explained, "Mabel and I are bored, so we're heading to the pier in Del Perro." She lightly punched Dipper's shoulder, which he gave something of a smile-grimace at, then rubbed the spot where she'd hit him. "And this guy's coming with us. Stan won't mind, especially if he doesn't know."
"Great, that makes four of us. I'm guessing we're taking my car, then." Wendy and Mabel couldn't drive because they were girls, and Dipper probably didn't know how to. Bill hadn't seen him try, nor had he ever offered despite the kid's apparent issues with his driving.
"Nah, mine's already parked on the street. Easy enough."
Bill didn't want her shitty car, but whatever. He'd put up with it for now. "Hand over the keys." He walked toward them, extending his hand to take the keys as he stared expectantly at her.
"Don't be a jackass, man." Wendy stared back, deadpanning, "You aren't driving." Her keys stayed securely in her hand as she turned to the door.
Explaining his reasoning, he said, "Well, women can't and Dipper doesn't know how to." The chorus of protests ranging from accusations of sexism to Dipper claiming he could drive rang out, but he ignored it to demand, "Hand them over, Ice Bag."
"Nope, guess you're taking your own car. Come on guys."
As Wendy exited the penthouse, Dipper followed after but waited in the doorway after the two ladies had passed him, "To be fair, you weren't technically invited to begin with."
They weren't excluding him from something again! "Yeah, well I'm not letting you do something without me like you've been doing."
"It's almost like you enjoy being around me."
"Keep telling yourself that, cutie." Maybe one day it'd be true.
A flicker of amusement lit in Dipper's brown eyes. "If I stayed here, would you still go?"
… No. "Sure, I could hang out with Shooting Star instead."
"Sounds like a fun girl's night." Yeah, but at least Bill would probably get pussy out of it because unlike Dipper, he had a chance with the ladies.
From down the hallway, there was an unmistakably Mabel call of, "Hurry up, Dippy! We're leaving, like, now, so get your butt over here!"
The kid turned to leave, but Bill reached out to grab his shoulder, Dipper flinching slightly. Bill pushed down the tiny pinch of guilt because he wasn't going to hurt him again, Dipper needed to stop being such a wuss."Where are you going, Pine Tree? You're not leaving with those two."
"I'm not?" he asked, sounding less confused than he did intrigued by this new information. "What, are you going to win my favor in the next five seconds?"
Why did he want to go with them anyway? He'd just be trapped by girl talk. "I don't think you have five seconds, sugar. Besides, I'm better company than those girls are."
With the sound of a car starting outside, Dipper seemed to realize he was right: time was up, didn't have a choice anymore, guess he was stuck with Bill — oh no, what a pity. A muffled noise of vibration filled the silence and Dipper snatched his phone from his pocket to read the notification. "Mabel says to meet them there, so I guess you now have fifteen minutes to win my favor and show me what good company you are." Before Bill knew it, the kid was taking his wrist and dragging him to the garage.
Oh, he could show him good company in fifteen minutes. He yanked his hand free but followed Dipper down into the garage, chuckling softly. "So, you wanted me to show you a good time? Take off your pants and bend over the hood."
"Are you at least going to cover the whole cab fare when we're done?" Despite what he said, he was getting in the passenger seat and once again propping his feet on the dashboard.
Christ, this kid's sass had no off switch. But maybe he liked that. Maybe.
The drive to the pier was eventless for the most part. On the bright side, they arrived in thirteen minutes, not fifteen, and if Dipper tried to claim he wasn't good company on the way over, that'd just make him a bigger liar than he already was. They'd had a nice chat, nice music, a nice laugh when Dipper asked what song was on the radio and he said it was Darude's "Sandstorm."
Well, Dipper actually hadn't laughed at that but Bill sure did, enough to make up for the kid's lack of enthusiasm. Wasn't going to let a hilarious joke go to waste.
"Hey, what's that?" Dipper asked from the passenger seat, Bill didn't bother to look at what he was commenting on, too busy finding a parking spot since they'd arrived. This place was always insanely busy in the evenings, bustling with a nonstop swarm of people; he wasn't itching to fight the crowds within the pier and still preferred his idea of an evening under the stars. In the corner of his vision he could see Dipper shuffling to get closer to the window, probably squinting to get a clear image through the darkness, brightened only by the festive lights of Del Perro's amusement park, Pleasure Pier. "I think—" he paused, "I think it's a dog? Do they allow dogs here?"
A dog? That caught his attention because Bill liked dogs, not that he'd tell Dipper that. He glanced away from the road to try to spot the canine Dipper was referring to. Was it… was it that Golden Retriever? "The retriever?" he inquired to verify his suspicions. If so, that dog was his.
"Sure?" Dipper sounded anything but. "I don't know dog breeds, dude. Parents didn't like pets, so we never had them."
Time to educate the kid. "The dog running around is a Golden Retriever. Gorgeous dogs. Very loyal and affectionate." Not that Dipper would know about loyalty or affection, seeing as he betrayed him with his secret cooking and wouldn't even give him a blowjob. He mused aloud, "I wonder if the dog'll come to me?" Throwing the car in park, Bill ignored the fact they weren't in a spot and got out of his vehicle.
Although he could hear the kid unclipping his seatbelt to leave with him, there was a whine of, "Wait, we're not in a parking spot! If you want, I... I could do it?" Appearing by his side within a moment, he cleared his throat. "Remember earlier, when you said I couldn't drive? Well, I can. I have a permit and everything."
"Hah, what, did you bribe the DOT to get it?"
Dipper appeared to be mildly offended at the accusation. "I scored a perfect on the test," he informed him, "but never did the driving test part because my parents— uh, they thought driving was too dangerous, so… yeah. Mabel only got hers because she kept bugging them, but I never did."
Bill laughed at him. "Was it twenty questions with pictures? Hard, I know. When I did it, we were given forty questions in story scenarios."
"That's because you're old," Dipper muttered.
"Other states do it differently!" He sharply reminded him. "It's not age, it's how states handle the test."
"Okay, so it's because you're a Beach Boy from Florida."
He scoffed. "And you're a Sun Slut from San Andreas, get over it."
Dipper couldn't seem to resist laughing at that, shooting a flirty wink in his direction. "Can't resist that San Andreas ass, we just do it better here than in Miami."
"Nope," he denied, "I've still seen better." There was a brief pause. "Crash the car if you want kid, but don't run over the dog." If he hurt the puppy, Bill would kill him. He handed the keys over to Dipper and let the kid scamper off to go be a moderately law-abiding citizen.
As he left to correct the parking problem, Dipper called over his shoulder, "Just for that, your butt smacking privileges have been revoked!"
Hah, so Dipper thought. Bill would continue to slap his ass and he knew Pine Tree would like it. Love it, even, because it was Bill doing it. Dipper was more than just a Sun Slut, he was a Sun Slut for him.
After he'd had his fill of watching Dipper walk away, Bill approached the dog, cooing to her gently. "Hey puppy, come here." And she did, much to his delight. She trotted over and licked at his outstretched hand, and he grabbed hold of her pale purple collar.
Her previous owners obviously didn't care enough about her if they were letting her roam the streets without any contact information on her tag. Upon examination, he could see her name was Bella. Well, Bella was safe with him now, and he moved to sit with her on the nearby curb situated outside the amusement park.
As he sat beside her, his hands gently raked over her fluffy, golden fur, and he relished in the softness, scratching all the right places from the way she stayed next to him while lapping up the attention. She didn't seem to be in bad spirits, but then again, why should she? She was getting adopted by the best of the best — him.
It was perfect.
Dipper approached shortly after, looking from the phone in his hand to Bill, then to the dog and back to him. "Mabel and Wendy are almost here, by the way. I warned them about the lack of parking." Noticing the new person, Bella momentarily left Bill's previous bombardment of pets to demand them from Dipper, who complied by stroking her fur and was rewarded with licks. Taking a seat next to him, he commented, "Wow, you were right about the friendliness."
"Goldies are fantastic," Bill said with some fondness. "I don't know why they'd let her run around so carelessly. She deserves better." She deserved him.
"Does she have a human?" Dipper asked, searching through the copious amounts of fluff to find any tag on her collar while Bella lowered herself to lie near their feet, seemingly content with the affection she was receiving from both.
Bill shrugged. "A collar and a name. No contact information, not that I'd want to hand her back. It's dangerous out here and they just let her go."
"Oh," he held the metal tag between his fingers before letting it drop back into the sea of golden curls, "Bella. That's a nice name." Yes. Bella was a lovely name. Bill and Bella, Bella and Bill.. it was very pleasant, had quite the ring to it, he liked it a lot. "She's such a pretty girl, I can't believe she'd just be out here alone."
"If I see her owner," he mused out loud, "I should kill them. Bella needs a better one anyway." He rubbed the golden dog's back affectionately. "Stan won't mind." If he did, Bill would kill him too. He wasn't losing another dog.
Dipper paused in his movements to stare at him, then returned to petting Bella. "I hope this is one of your weird jokes. Sometimes it's hard to tell, your humor sucks."
Bill glanced at him. "Why would I be joking about this?" There was no humor in keeping a puppy safe from neglectful owners.
"Because someone is probably really sad about losing their dog and is trying to find her, and you're all, 'I should kill them because I'm Bill Cipher and I have more homicidal tendencies than black and yellow suits!'"
"If they cared about their dog, they wouldn't have lost her in the first place." His tone was a snap, harsh and cold. "What kind of asshole doesn't even have contact information on her? That screams 'horrible owner', and I'm not going to let them touch her again."
Dipper looked… concerned, mildly horrified even. "Seriously? You're— you're going to adopt her?" It seemed like more was on the tip of his tongue, perhaps another ridiculous reminder this wasn't his dog to keep. Bullshit, so he was just glad the kid had enough sense not to say it.
"Why wouldn't I?" he demanded. Of course he was going to keep her. "Unlike you, I have experience with pets." Nothing he'd disclose with Dipper. The deaths of Poppy and Buttercup were still a fresh wound on his mind, despite the handful of years that had past.
Dipper shifted uncomfortably. "I just don't think—"
A screech interrupted him and within seconds, Mabel was upon them, crouching down to fawn over his new companion. "PUPPY! CAN WE KEEP HER? SHE'S SO PRETTY!"
Following after at a much more leisurely pace, Wendy said, "Cool dog. Who's is it?"
"Mine," Bill responded with a smug glance at Dipper. He wasn't going to convince him otherwise.
"Have fun convincing Stan. I doubt he'll go for it since you're not taking in a cat," she said with a chuckle. "So, are you guys just going to wait around out here or hit Pleasure Pier? The fun's inside, not in the parking lot."
Mabel had wrapped her arms around Bella. "I want to go on the rides!"
Wendy clapped her on the shoulder. "Sure, let's go. Bill, Dipper, you coming? Bet us gals could outride you, but the operators probably aren't going to be crazy about your dog."
"Sure," Bill said. "I want to get a ball for Bella." They could find a spot to throw it around. He knew Golden Retrievers were high energy, and this gave him an opportunity to stay away from the pier's swarms of people. "You can outride Pine Tree. I need to get rope out of my trunk first."
There was the briefest glimpse of amusement on Dipper's face, but he didn't say anything, already being pulled along by an impatient Mabel to get into the amusement park while Wendy took the lead in confident strides.
Bill made his way back to the parking lot, looking for the familiar golden vehicle with Bella trotting at his side. It wasn't long until he found it. Well, the kid managed to park without destroying his car, although he did a shitty job of being between the lines. The tires were on the line. He wasn't going to fix it though, and moved to unlock his trunk and grab the rope. This would hold Bella until they got her a real leash.
His train of thought was interrupted by his phone going off. If it was fucking Robbie again, he was going to—
Luckily, it wasn't Robbie. It was Pine Tree.
(9:10 PM) Hi
(9:10 PM) hey
(9:10 PM) Where are you?
(9:11 PM) hiding a body in my trunk
If Dipper actually believed that, he was dumber than Robbie. Bill already stated when he was with the others that he was getting rope for his dog.
(9:11 PM) Dude you can't joke about that, not after saying you wanted to kill Bella's human like five minutes ago
(9:11 PM) i didn't say i was joking
(9:11 PM) I'm starting to rethink riding back with you
(9:12 PM) do you want to join him in the trunk cutie?
(9:12 PM) also why aren't you on a ride
(9:12 PM) Didn't meet the height requirement
(9:12 PM) i always knew you were 2
(9:13 PM) Yeah, 2 much 4 you
(9:14 PM) But seriously, where are you because I'm not feeling rides tonight. I want to hang out with my crush, you should be flattered
Bill's eyes narrowed at the familiarity of the statement, thinking he'd said something similar to Dipper before, but didn't comment on it.
(9:14 PM) i just got rope out of my trunk
(9:14 PM) to leash bella
Speaking of which, he looped one end of the rope around Bella's collar and tied it. Now she wouldn't be going anywhere.
(9:14 PM) but you can meet us in the gift shop
With his dog safely secured, he was already heading to it, leaving the parking lot and entering the amusement park. The employees knew better than to fuck with him about Bella.
(9:15 PM) you were quick to leave for someone who wanted to hang
(9:15 PM) Mabel pulled me away?
(9:15 PM) She's surprisingly strong
(9:15 PM) stop blaming your sister for your shortcomings
(9:16 PM) you're short and weak, we get it pine tree
(9:16 PM) I mean I don't have to hang out with you
(9:16 PM) I just thought it'd be nice but maybe I'll stick with Mabel if you're going to be like this
(9:16 PM) then do that
(9:16 PM) I'm kidding, I like Bella way better than you
(9:16 PM) go suck stan's cock
Seriously. If all this kid wanted to do was harass him over text, he could fuck off. Bill had a new friend now. A better friend. Bella.
(9:17 PM) Ew. You'd probably want to watch
(9:17 PM) nah i'd go play with my dog
(9:17 PM) not into old men and she's better company than you are
(9:18 PM) Because unlike me, she'll come if you tell her to? ;)
(9:18 PM) oh fuck you
(9:18 PM) You want to
(9:18 PM) not anymore
(9:18 PM) And I repeat: 2 much 4 you
(9:18 PM) i could get you to come for me though
A little cock-hungry twink like him would love to be bound and gagged by Bill, bent over and fucked relentlessly. He just didn't know it yet, or perhaps he did with the way he'd been flirting today.
(9:19 PM) Nope
(9:19 PM) they all say that ;)
Dipper was just in denial he'd have one hell of a good time.
(9:19 PM) Kind of difficult to do that when my interest in you is as nonexistent as your modesty
(9:19 PM) i like it when ladies play hard to get
(9:20 PM) that's been you all week and i'd tap that, doll
(9:20 PM) Why bother? Apparently my butt is inadequate
(9:20 PM) yeah but it could still be a good fuck cutie
Oh yes. But Bill had lost interest in the discussion, having made his way into the gift shop near the entrance to Pleasure Pier. Bella was happily panting beside him and he patted the top of her head as he searched for a ball he could use to play with her. He'd give Dipper a few minutes to show up before he left to go to the real park.
Not long after, a voice rang out, "A jackass and his dog walk into a gift shop…" and suddenly, there was a presence beside him, a short presence that sassed him whenever possible. "Hi sweetheart," he cooed, then more flatly said, "and Bill." And there it was.
"Ah, you must be the next addition to my trunk. I always wanted to tie a midget up and throw him in with my shovel and body bag. Tell me, cutie, how loudly can you scream when your mouth is gagged and your hands restrained?" At this rate, maybe he should've just gone to the park without Pine Tree.
Dipper snickered, "Loud enough to always impress my dominant."
"I'd get off better if I strangled you. Stars know how much you love my hands pressing down on that velvety throat of yours."
It was almost sweet, the way his bravado instantly dropped and he swallowed so thickly, maybe remembering the time he'd been trapped under him. His throat had been soft to the touch, he could clearly recall the outline of his airway beneath his skin, how much power over Dipper he felt. One small movement and he could've killed the kid.
Changing the subject, he asked, "Which ball do you think she'd like the best?" Dipper reached out to grab a rubber one, bouncing it against the floor and Bella jerked, suddenly attentive now that there was a ball in her vicinity. Goldens were so wonderful, the best companions.
Far better than Dipper. "We can get her a rubber ball. Or all the balls." He wanted to spoil his precious puppy. "All the balls would do nicely." As Dipper watched in amusement, Bill began to pick one of each ball. A rubber ball, a tennis ball, a ball that squeaked, and a ball that was squishy to the touch. It was a little disappointing the gift shop didn't have more options, but there was plenty of time to swing by a more appropriate store later.
Balls in hand, he made his way to the cashier and let them ring up the armada of balls. The ballmada. When they finished, he took the ballmada and began to head out of the gift shop. "Which should we start with?" Bill asked as he hunted through the bag. His bright eyes were on Bella as he pulled one out. "I know Golden Retrievers like tennis balls. You want the tennis ball, sweetie?" It seemed she very much did want the tennis ball, the way she bounced around him in excitement—not on him, no, Goldens were too polite for that.
Dipper was staring at him again with that goofy smile, the one he'd worn when he initially confirmed his history of being in a musical. It was a dumb, knowing smile and while he otherwise would've wanted to wipe it off the kid's face, he was in too good of a mood to care.
Bill gave her makeshift leash a lot of slack once they made it to the park beside the pier, wanting her to be able to easily chase after the ball. Once she had plenty of leeway, he threw the ball and watched as she dashed after it. What a gorgeous puppy, he was proud to be able to call her his own.
Beside him, he could see Dipper taking a seat in the grass as he folded his legs in front of him, leaning back on his hands. "So you're really keeping her?" he asked, his eyes on Bella. "She is pretty sweet, and cute."
"Why wouldn't I?" As far as Bill was concerned, whoever previously owned her fucked up and didn't deserve another chance with her. She was his now. Nothing would hurt her. Not... not like the others.
Dipper shrugged. "Will Stan let you have a pet in the penthouse, or… or do you live somewhere else too?"
"Stan is a cat guy, calls them all Puff Daddy." It was why Bill had initially began calling him 'Big Daddy' but they hadn't had a cat around in a while, thank god. If Stan dared to try to come between them, Bill wouldn't hesitate to put a knife in his gut. He liked the guy, but his dog came first. "It wouldn't be a strategic move on his part to deny me a dog," he said. "If he wants his intestines to stay inside him, that is. I do have another place, I just don't go to it often." It was in the countryside, one of many safe houses they used. Bella would probably like it.
Although he looked momentarily alarmed at the threat, he simply grimaced. "Jeez, dude. It's not like you pay rent, I think he could deny you a dog." But after a second, he seemed curious about the residence in question and inquired, "Your other place… is it in San Andreas?"
"No one is taking her away from me," he almost snapped at Dipper. He already lost several dogs, she wouldn't be another number in a sea of heartache and tragedy. "Stan can fight me if he wants, I'm not budging." Bella had returned to his side, dropping the ball by his feet and nudging his hand like she was eager for him to continue. Bill was happy to oblige, scooping the ball up and tossing it.
Putting his hands up in mock surrender, he said, "Relax, man. I didn't say anyone was."
He implied it when he said Stan could deny him. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Returning to the subject of his house, he took a breath, trying to calm down. "Yeah. It's a ways out from Los Santos, in the country. Why?"
"Heterosexual life partner getaway weekend," he said with a grin, "and now with a dog included." Still watching Bella chase after the ball and pounce on it before beginning to trot back, Dipper went on, "Paleto Bay, I'm guessing? That's a nice, quiet town, and the coastline's gorgeous. It seems like everyone has a place there."
"I didn't want to live with hicks," Bill answered, referencing the weird folks of Sandy Shores which was another popular getaway destination. "So, yes, your guess is correct. Instead there's a giant Cluckin' Bell chicken statue."
"And not nearly as many meth labs."
"Give it a few years."
"Who knows," he replied, "maybe the new mayor will crack down on illegal substances when the election's over."
Bill laughed at that. "I'm fairly certain the new mayor is going to have to deal with assassination attempts first. With the raids they've been doing, a bunch of gangs are going to rally like Natives against the invading white man and demand the scalp of whoever's elected."
Dipper's expression had lost its cheer, and he seemed eager to leave this subject behind as he peered thoughtfully at Bella. "Since you have a place in Paleto Bay… do you think Bella would like swimming? Taking the proper precautions, I mean— it is the ocean."
"Have you never been around a dog before, kid? Of course she's going to like swimming. You won't be able to keep her away from the water." She would happily splash around in the ocean. He could already imagine her bright little paws sinking into the damp sand, leaving a sea of pawprints in her glorious wake.
"Not all dogs like to swim, do they?"
"I haven't met one that doesn't."
They fell into a silence, and Bill focused the rest of his attention on throwing balls for Bella. He liked to change it up, switching out the balls and pretending to throw them to watch her go after nothing. It was adorable in every way, though Dipper had voiced his disagreement and would express it by actually throwing a ball for her. What a child. After a while of playing fetch, Bella flopped down in the grass near them and Bill departed to get his puppy some water and a snack. As well as Dipper, since he supposed he should take care of both his ladies.
Purchasing some jerky, bottled water, a small dish, and a chocolate bar, Bill returned and distributed them accordingly. He filled the dish with water for Bella and placed a handful of the jerky on the ground for her, then gave Dipper the candy. "For you, cutie. Can't have my ladies going hungry."
The deep frown he received was legendary, and he couldn't stop the shit-eating grin on his face. But Dipper didn't stay mad at him for long, probably too hungry to hold it against him, and was now begrudgingly eating the candy bar.
And his entourage was looking a bit tired, Bella splayed out on the grass with Dipper on his back next to her, his hand lazily making circles in the soft fur of her side. It was a perfect sight, and Bill joined the duo by flopping on the grass beside them.
Dipper looked at him as he started to run his hands through Bella's fur as well, seemingly noticing something with the way his eyes focused in interest. "What's that?" he questioned, then clarified with the slightest nod of his head, "On your finger."
"Oh, this?" He raised his hand, looking at the golden ring. It was studded with an orange gem– citrine, the planetary stone for a Virgo, though Dipper didn't need to know that.
"Yeah, that," Dipper confirmed, examining the ring. "Is that the one you were talking about getting a while ago?" He glanced between the new ring and the one he wore, holding his up to put them together. "They look really similar." Well, obviously, the only difference was the gemstone.
He had told Dipper he was getting one that was similar, they just weren't exact matches. "The stones are different. I'm glad it's not gay looking like the Tiger's Eye, I hate how Stan and Ford's rings turned out."
Humming lightly, he inquired in reference to his new ring, "Why did you get… that one? Whatever gem that is."
"It reminds me of someone." Bill didn't want to go into it further, looking at the golden puppy beside them. He didn't want to tell Dipper how he secretly enjoyed his companionship, how he crafted the ring because he wanted something to remember him by when Stan finally got rid of him. Or more grimly, if Robbie managed to get to him and his sister first. Dipper was quickly becoming his favorite person despite (well, because of) what a little shit he could be at times, and Bill wasn't looking forward to him being gone.
The kid couldn't be more oblivious in social situations if he tried. "Oh. Who?"
Well, it wasn't any of Dipper's damn business. Even if Dipper didn't know who it was, he wouldn't tell him a fucking thing. Seriously, Bill didn't go around demanding information like that from other people. "None of your concern."
There was a vibrating noise, and Dipper used his free hand to hold his phone, the screen casting a blueish illumination onto his face. "Mabel and Wendy are done with rides. They want to know if we're even still here." He began to type a reply to his sister's text. "Mabel says they're going to get food and wait for the fireworks to start, then head back."
"You can tell them we're having a better time," Bill smirked. Were they not? He was having a blast with Bella. Dipper wasn't awful company. "We don't need a stupid ferris wheel to entertain ourselves for an hour."
"Nooo," he whined pitifully but it melted into a laugh. "She'll probably make a joke about how we've been busy getting it on."
That wasn't such a bad thing. "The night's still young, cutie. I bet this park hasn't seen some action in years."
Dipper's eyes got huge, blown wide, and he asked incredulously, "With Bella here?" He seemed to pause for a second, like he'd been betrayed by himself and was surprised— he flopped back against the grass with a groan. "We're not going to do anything like that, dude."
"So… wait, if Bella wasn't here right now you'd be down for it?" Dipper hadn't jumped to rejecting him because him, rather his thoughts seemed to have gone straight for Bella. Interesting.
That appeared to hit the mark on the head since even in the dark he could see the way Dipper's cheeks colored. "God, no," it was scathing, like he was covering embarrassment. "Not interested in sleeping with you." With a sideways glance, he referenced their prior conversation, "I only go for guys that cover the whole cab fare, and probably won't slip into a poor Russian accent while we're boning."
Bill faintly chuckled, rubbing a spot behind Bella's ear. "I don't believe you, cherry. I think you'd go for a guy who'd only give you an eighth of the cab fare while slipping into an excellent Russian accent."
"Nope, I still think I'd go for the cactus over you." Dipper fell silent for a second or two, thinking. "Honestly, giving me a cab fare would just make me feel like a hooker since you're technically my ride back and we live together as it is. You'd be paying me for no reason."
"You'd be missing out on a great sexual experience if you went with the cactus, sugar. Besides, you'd be a hooker regardless since you seem in it for the cab fare." Not that he cared. The cost of cab fare hardly touched his wealth.
Dipper made a face. "Well, I sure wouldn't be in it for sex with you. At least the cab fare is slightly appealing."
"Why don't you take my cock instead? It'll be a lot more fullfeeling." Dipper's reaction in three, two, one...
With a squeak escaping him, the look Dipper gave was some cross of astonishment and horror, his cheeks reddening faster than he thought possible, and he was quick to clasp his hands over Bella's fluffy ears. "Oh my god. You— you can't say stuff like that in front of her." It came out as a hiss. "Or in front of me, for fuck's sake. I need an adult."
Bill burst into laughter. "I just did, cutie." And he had no regrets, simply because of Dipper's reaction. Puffing his chest, he reminded, "I am an adult."
"You're impossible," he muttered with a pout, leaning back again. Although he looked flustered from his earlier comment, he didn't say anything more about it. "The stars are bright out here. Easier to see than in Vinewood."
"That's because the city's so polluted it's amazing even a single star could be spotted from the penthouse." It was also surprising people survived in the city, given the living conditions. Bill was used to the reek, something he attributed to being a stress smoker.
"Yeah, if only more people had a midget," Dipper used his word from earlier and rolled his eyes, "to convince them to go green, it might not be so bad."
Bill shook his head. "If everyone had you, they'd pollute just to piss you off."
"Excuse you, I'm a delight—"
There was a sudden, cheerful cry of a male voice. "Bella!" And she reacted to the call, immediately rising to her feet and looking in the direction of the two approaching strangers—a male and a female—who had another Golden Retriever in tow. The woman stayed back with the other dog, meanwhile the man's arms were outstretched as he greeted Bella fondly. "You silly girl," he said with relief as he knelt down next to her. "Your mommy and I thought we lost you, always runnin' off like that."
Bill hated this guy instantly, and that was etched across his face. "The hell do you think you're doing, asshole?"
He seemed unfazed, eyes flicking between him and Dipper. "Oh! Were you watching her? She's a troublemaker, ain't she? But I love her anyway, and that was real nice of you two."
Bill's hand instantly dipped into the pocket of his blazer, coming up empty. Where was his gun? He must've left it in his car, fuck his life. Fuck this guy. Fuck this ASSHOLE for coming here after he LET his dog run off.
"C'mon Bella," he spoke to her gently, "let's get you and Benny home."
"Don't you fucking touch my dog, fuckhead."
"Bill," Dipper hissed in warning under his breath.
The man waved him off with a chuckle, undoing the rope around her collar, "No siree, this is my dog! Bella, and her brother Benny. Pretty dogs, huh?"
Bill was moving to get to his fet, body bristling from anger. "She stopped being your dog when you let her run loose without any contact information on her, you inconsiderate jackass. MY dog could have been killed because of your stupidity. You're not touching her."
Dipper was stepping between him and the other male, trying to block him from advancing further with a stern and semi-worried, "Bill, stop."
"No!" Bill almost growled, watching through fiery eyes as the guy walked away. "He's not taking my fucking dog, Pine Tree."
"I think we're gonna head out," the man called, "you two are still nice fellas. Thanks for helpin' take care of her for a while."
"I'm going to hunt you down and rip out your cold heart and fucking eat it while I dance in your fucking intestines." Bill moved to stop the guy because even if he didn't have a gun he still had a knife to do the job, but Dipper remained firmly between them. He tried to go around the kid, but it was no use when Dipper held his ground and stayed put. He was tempted to shove the kid over and lunge for the asshole, but the violent thought reminded him of how Dipper reacted when he accidentally hurt his damn shoulder. He didn't want that to happen again.
Already walking away, the utterly oblivious man yelled over his shoulder, "I'll have to check with the wife! Visit anytime!" And they were disappearing into the distance.
No, no, no. This wasn't fucking happening again. He already lost everything else he loved, why did they have to take away Bella too? He loved that puppy, despite the short time they had together.
Dipper looked downward, almost appearing guilty as he rubbed at his arms.
"You… you fucking…" Bill's voice was quiet, somewhere between angry and broken. "I can't fucking believe you right now."
"I'm really sorry," it sounded rushed. Panicked. "I thought you were going to hurt him."
"Don't fucking lie to me about how sorry you are." If he was sorry, Bella wouldn't have been taken away. "He deserved to die and now Bella's gone and it's because of you and I…"
Flinching back at the words, Dipper looked completely wrecked by that. "Bill.."
"Stop. I just want to go home."
"...Um, with me?" he asked, so shyly and with insurmountable sadness. "Actually, I— I can just go with Wendy and Mabel."
He didn't want to look at Dipper right now. It felt like a hole had been ripped into his chest again, like his heart had been torn out and stomped on. Bill didn't bother responding, turning away to head back to the parking lot and his car. The ballmada and his rope had been left behind, he didn't want to see either ever again. What was the point in bringing the dog toys when Bella wouldn't… when she wouldn't be playing with them?
Bill knew Dipper was following him as he walked to the parking lot, despite how he said he'd go with the girls. It was hard to care anymore. Nothing felt worthy of anything but sadness. His Golden girl was taken from him again, like so many times before. Distantly, he could hear the sound of the fireworks show starting, but the mere thought of others being happy while he was so miserable put a bitter taste in his mouth. All he wanted was his dog. What did he do to repeatedly deserve this?
Moving around the hood of his car so he could just ditch this stupid fucking pier, Dipper's hand caught his wrist. "You're not even staying for the fireworks?" he inquired gently. "It's okay if you want to leave, I just thought—"
Bill really didn't want to hang around for some gay ass fireworks, especially now that one of the few things he gave a shit about was stolen from him. "Is watching them going to magically bring Bella back?" he asked, tone bitter, and if looks were enough to kill, Dipper would be dead where he stood.
Dipper frowned and looked away, giving a broken, "Well, no…"
Of course it wouldn't. It felt like a waste of time, hanging around the pier… but Bill knew one of the last things he wanted was to be more alone and hurt than he already felt. "C'mon," he muttered, "let's watch the dumb fireworks show." Instead of going into his vehicle like he'd planned, he hopped onto the hood and patted the spot beside him, Dipper taking the hint and shuffling onto it.
Raising his eyes to the sky, blooming explosions of color erupted distantly above the pier— reds, greens, whites. It was nothing special to him, but Dipper seemed to be enjoying himself as he watched in awe. The show continued as several minutes passed with them just laying on the hood of his car, Bill spaced out during most of it.
A part of him was numb, in disbelief that he had another dog torn away from him again. He felt hopeless, defeated, like nothing was worth giving any effort anymore because in the end, he'd lose it. Like all his dogs, who his parents had killed. And now Bella, the sweet Goldy that was abandoned by a neglectful owner. She would have been happy with him, she didn't need that ass of an owner to come for her. Bill knew how to take care of dogs, he loved dogs more than he loved himself, and he was struggling to come to terms with her departure. He could've done it. He would've protected her and loved her, and never let any harm come to her. Bill would have killed to keep her safe, and he would have in an instant if not for Dipper's intervention.
Dipper...
There was no denying he was still upset with the kid to some degree. He felt hurt, betrayed he'd just… give her up after discussing their plans in the country. Bella would've loved the beach, would've loved to feel the damp sand beneath her paws as she raced through the water. All of that was gone, and Bill couldn't get it back. He wanted to, so, so badly.
Snapping back to the present, Dipper must have noticed his lack of attention on the fireworks and was hovering over him, peering down with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?" his voice was gentle.
No, he didn't want to talk about how alone, and upset, and plain hurt he felt. Bill didn't want to tell Dipper about how he was terrified of being alone in that moment, and how the only reason he agreed to stay for the dumb fireworks was because it gave him some form of company. He… didn't want to think about how Dipper was the only consistent company he ever really had, how the others were like waves that would come and go and how alone he was otherwise. The others were friends of convenience, brought together solely by their line of work, and the thought of Dipper leaving in under a month was something he dreaded, knowing that without Pine Tree in his life he was nothing. A forgotten piece, a cog in a machine of criminals. Dipper was his window into reconnecting with a part of himself he actually liked for a change, the part that was more than just some dirtbag, bottom-of-the-line scum waiting to get killed by a cop, the part he'd buried so hard because it didn't have a place in this lifestyle but this kid drew it out of him. The part that Dipper, for some reason, saw something in because he never let him get away with being a cold hearted jackass.
"Don't leave me," Bill finally said, unable to hide how broken his voice was. There was a lump in his throat.
Clearly stunned, Dipper blinked. "Um, what?"
A month wasn't long enough, he couldn't stand to think of what'd happen after Dipper left. He'd just be alone again, no Bella, no true friend that was with him because they honestly liked being around him. "I know Stan wants you to go, but you can't."
Replacing the pure confusion on Dipper's face was a tinge of sadness. "Kind of have to," he gave a breathless laugh but it didn't sound happy. "I can't just… stay with you guys forever."
"Stay," Bill demanded with more determination, desperate to not lose the only companion he really had. "I'll force Stan to let you. Just… don't leave."
"I don't think…" he seemed to trail off after seeing the sheer despair on his face, sighing. "What am I supposed to do, live out the rest of my life in the penthouse? Doing what?" His questions were genuine and filled with worry, not accusatory. "And it's not like Stan will ever allow that." Dipper laid back down beside him, the bright colors of the fireworks still erupting in the night sky as the show continued. A distant BOOM and subsequent crackles momentarily derailed his thoughts, but he shook it away, too worried about his own horrible loneliness to focus on that right now.
"Once the month is over, you won't have to be holed up all the time. We can explore the city more, and visit the countryside." The thought of visiting his house by the beach was bittersweet. "You could start going to college again, if you wanted." As long as he stayed, Bill didn't care. He just… wanted him. "I'll ask Stan, right now." He reached into his pocket and whipped out his phone, firing off a text to Big Daddy.
(11:08 PM) hey stan can we keep pine tree forever
(11:08 PM) think about it, he'll never survive on his own, it's cruelty to just release the kid into the wild
(11:08 PM) he's accustomed to the lap of luxury
And Bill was damn well going to give it to him, anything he wanted — Bill had enough money to indulge his Pine Tree's wildest desires, and possessed the financial know-how to keep them afloat. With a state under his finger and an essentially endless flow of cash, he was prepared to entertain whatever lifestyle Dipper wanted to have. Anything to keep him from leaving.
A reply was being typed almost instantly, and even Dipper was looking over in interest to find out what his answer was.
(11:08 PM) no
That fucker. He wouldn't let Stan keep Pine Tree from him. Mind racing, a new idea came to him. "Okay, change of plans. I can legally adopt you."
Dipper let out a laugh at the absurdity. "What the heck, dude? You're not going to adopt me, you're like…" he paused, "I don't know, maybe five or six years older than me?"
"Think about it," Bill pressed. "Stan can't tell you to scram if I'm your legal guardian." It was Stan-proof.
"You must really want me to stay if you're suggesting adoption," Dipper commented but the tone of his voice implied he didn't realize just how damn serious he was, how serious this whole situation was. "Look, if it means that much to you.. I'll think about staying." But there was very little commitment to the statement, he didn't even seem to give it much thought since he was already watching the fireworks again.
Unsatisfied with that answer, he was back to thinking about how it would be easy to go the adoption route. "It's not a difficult process," Bill said. "I have enough money to get any adoption agency to prioritize us, as well as a.. well, a bunch of friends in legal places." They weren't friends, but he thought it sounded better than 'blackmail victims'. Anything to get Dipper to stay, even if he didn't know much about the real adoption process.
"Jeez, relax," Dipper murmured, shifting closer to him until his head was on his chest. "I'm not going anywhere." A breeze lightly swept over them, and he could feel Pine Tree's lithe frame shiver against him, curling in tighter.
Stars, he was adorable when he was curled up close. Bill could feel the warmth of his body pressed against him, how small and fragile he felt compared to himself, and a surge of fondness and protectiveness swarmed him. No one. NO ONE. Was going to take this kid away from him. Not like his dogs. He could keep this one, his Pine Tree, safe.
"You cold?" he murmured, shuffling to remove his blazer and put it around Dipper's shoulders, though it covered the entirety of his back as well.
And how he reacted was to die for. Dipper's head raised in surprise, those pupils dilated against brown irises, so huge and appreciative and Bill just wanted to drown in them because they made him absolutely melt. Falling from his plush lips was a murmur of, "Oh— wow, thanks." It sounded caught between disbelief and affection, and Bill felt a rush of heat spark within him as Dipper damn near nuzzled his collarbone, the spot right below where his suspenders crossed over, as he settled back into place to view the remainder of the exploding lights.
He couldn't help but watch him, how snuggled up and downright cute this kid was. Bill was struggling to resist the allure of Dipper's pale lips, and he found himself putting his arm around him, Dipper making a soft noise of contentment. In the process, he had maneuvered him slightly, just enough so Bill was hovering over him and able to steal his lips if he desired.
Gazing at him so very sweetly through lidded eyes, Dipper seemed to be trying to gauge what he was doing, not quite grasping why he was now under Bill. And Bill… he could see the burst of fireworks ignite within Dipper's pupils and as the colors disappeared, they were replaced with tiny glittering stars and his own reflection, a better version of himself and the whole sky seemingly reflecting in this kid's eyes.
He wanted it. Bill wanted to gaze into his eyes forever, to make him his, to protect him so those gorgeous doe-eyes would never lose their beautiful brightness. And without another thought, he had leaned in, lips capturing Dipper's in a kiss.
They were soft, tantalizingly tender and delicate, and the taste of his mouth was sweet, not unlike the chocolate bar he'd eaten earlier. Bill couldn't get enough, wanted and needed more, desperate to kiss him until his lips were wonderfully rosy and swollen. But he felt Dipper's hands pressing into his shoulders, pressing too hard to be a demonstration of his passion and— and the kid was pushing him away, trying to gently shove him back.
Confused by this, Bill drew away, eyes searching Dipper's for the answer. They were GREAT together, Dipper had amazingly sweet lips and he was craving more. Why did he want him to stop?
Dipper looked more pallid than he'd remembered, and significantly more nervous. "I… I think you got the wrong idea," he sputtered, a tremor in his voice.
That was impossible. "I got the right idea," he said, tapping the side of his head. "We're perfect together, Pine Tree. I don't even care about the dog anymore when all I could want is here. With you."
With a sharp inhale, he shook his head, wordlessly at first like he didn't even know what to say or what was happening. "What are you talking about?"
"Hey, Pine Tree! I have a great idea. Let's run away together, leave this shithole. Get married, elope, the works."
By now, those once-delectably wide eyes had turned to fearful pinpricks. "What?" Dipper squeaked in alarm, scrambling to sit up and placing more distant between them. "Are you— are you actually serious?" Anxiety and fright were etched in his expression, the shock apparent.
Bill couldn't understand why Dipper seemed so against this. It was a perfect idea for the perfect couple. He knew they were meant for each other, it was written in the stars and in the depths of Dipper's eyes and in how Dipper had become the only stable thing in his life. "We're already engaged," he reminded him. "We can leave right now. I can get us a marriage certificate."
"It's not a real engagement!" Dipper protested. His attention shifted to his ring and he worked it off of his finger, tucking it away into the pocket of Bill's blazer. "I'm not marrying you, Bill. That's— don't you see how fucking crazy that is?" Although he sounded completely flabbergasted, Bill was left in the dark as to why; their devotion to one another, their chemistry, was clear enough to him.
"How is it crazy? We were made for each other." Why couldn't his Pine Tree see that? They could be happy together, Dipper wouldn't have to leave and Bill wouldn't be alone.
Dipper's eyebrows shot higher than he'd ever seen, and he was scooting further up the hood, away from him. "I don't know you! ...You don't even know me!"
Bill chuckled. "Cutie, we know each other just fine." It was a little under two weeks. That was enough time to get acquainted.
The kid was visibly unnerved, borderline panicked. "Oh my god, Bill. You… you're not kidding, holy shit." The realization seemed to crash over Dipper and to his disappointment, not a rush of affection followed. In fact, the sheer horror on his face couldn't have been farther from that.
And he was bringing his legs over the side of the car to get to his feet, shuffling the jacket off in the process. "I—" he took a step back, "I'm going to go find Wendy and Mabel."
"What?" No, no, no. He said he wouldn't do this. He would stay. Bill slid off the hood, moving to approach Dipper. He seemed adamant on backing away, keeping the same amount of space between them… playing hard to get, Bill believed. "You can't leave. You told me you wouldn't." Pine Tree wouldn't, right…? "Come on, cutie. You don't need those two– we can go together, we can marry and watch the fireworks whenever we want without them." Without those fuckers taking Dipper away from him.
"Bill, stop," it was a frightened whine and the familiarity of the words only added to his desperation to keep Dipper here after everything else had fallen apart, the kid truly looking like he was at a loss for once, "you're scaring me."
"Doll," Bill's voice was soft, "I don't understand. Don't you want this?"
"I. Don't. Know. You." He repeated.
"But you do!" Bill insisted. Did the fireworks turn his brain to mush or something? He was Bill Cipher, for stars' sake!
"No, dude! I don't! We've known each other… for what, two weeks?!"
Why was he denying this? "That's plenty of time to know each other, cutie! Why are you making this so hard on yourself?" Bill couldn't imagine why he wouldn't be jumping at the opportunity, but he realized something. "Is this because of the sex? Oh, my darling honeysuckle," he cooed with gushing affection, "don't worry your stars about that. I'll help you enjoy it."
Dipper was blinking at him again, looking so terrified, and he took a few more steps backward before spinning on his heels and leaving, going back to the pier.
And just like that, he was gone. Bill was alone, standing in the middle of the parking lot. No Dipper, no Bella — terrifyingly on his own, and he felt like a hollowed ghost as he grabbed his blazer and drifted into the driver's seat of his car to think.
He couldn't fathom this reality. He was so sure they were meant to be together, so why had Dipper reacted in such a manner? Not understanding where he'd gone wrong, he recounted what'd happened: he kissed Dipper, the kid freaked out, and he'd given him the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to marry Bill Cipher.
Pulling down the visor to look at himself in the mirror, he frowned because the version of himself in the mirror didn't seem like the one he'd seen reflected in Dipper's eyes, and he hated it. Even so, in everything he'd done this evening, he'd been nothing but a gentleman.
Except…
Except he hadn't, Bill realized coldly.
There had been little to nothing between them, romantically-speaking, and he had tried to manipulate Dipper into thinking there was, tried to pressure and trick him into believing he desired more from their already fucked up relationship when it was very clearly something he hadn't wanted. Bill wished he could put a bullet through his brain because he'd kept pushing when Dipper had actually said he wasn't interested in anything else.
Neither of them really were, and he figured they both knew it. It'd been a spur of the moment decision on his part, fueled only by the grief of losing Bella.
No fucking wonder no one wanted to be around him. No wonder he was alone, the lingering thought of losing everything he liked in the back of his mind as he wondered if Dipper would even… still talk to him now, after finding out what an atrocious mess he was.
Sifting through the pocket of his slacks, he dug out the pack of cigarettes and stared at it in examination; it was nearly full, but he knew that still wouldn't be enough.
Stars, he needed a drink.