I told you I would post the next update shortly! BOOM! Voilà!
In this chapter, chapter 12's decision comes into play! Can I just say I'm so fucking happy that you chose for Bill to do "independent research"? Because I am! Had you guys chosen something else, I don't think what is going to happen in this chapter could have happened.
Anyways, last chapter's tally was:
Option 1: Wait for him to come to you - 4 votes (2 on AO3 and 2 on FFN)
Option 2: Confront him - 26 votes (13 on AO3 and 13 on FFN)
Option 3: Pretend there is no problem - 2 votes (on FFN)
"You can wait for him to come to you, confront him, or pretend like nothing's wrong." Shooting Star listed as she opened the bag of flour.
"Which option is the best?" Bill asked.
"That's a matter of perspective." She replied with a light smile, "It also depends on the situation and the person."
"Well…what kind of person is Dipper?" Bill asked. He was starting to get annoyed with all the questions he continuously had to hammer out. Couldn't she just tell him what to do?
"You think you would know what with all the time you spend together." Shooting Star commented.
Perhaps she had a point. Bill should know the answer to that question on his own by now, and yet…
"It's not like we've taken the time to hang out outside of school." He pointed out, "Sure all my classes are with him, but we only ever talk about school and what we're learning. He never talks about himself."
"Unfortunately for you, Dipper's the type of guy who could easily react badly to all the options." She chuckled a bit, undoubtedly enjoying Bill's predicament. "If you wait for him when he doesn't want to be waited on, he'll get upset. Then he might never come to you. If you confront him when he doesn't want to be confronted, he'll get defensive and snappy; like he did with me. Finally, if you pretend nothing's wrong, he might get offended and mad at you for an entirely different reason."
Bill groaned and slumped down on the stool at his table. Dealing with Pine Tree was more troublesome than he ever thought. Hadn't the TV stated women were typically the most difficult of the two? Granted, the demon had recently uncovered that most of the things portrayed on TV were nothing more than fiction, but it had still gotten some stuff right. Honestly, he should have tried getting in with Shooting Star first. She seemed much easier to deal with than Pine Tree, especially at the moment. He had a feeling he could easily talk to her and even if he was being an ass hole, as counterproductive as that would be, she would probably still try to be understanding and passive. He couldn't say the same for Pine Tree.
"If I were you…" Shooting Star continued, but Bill tuned her out.
Bill wasn't exactly the patient type. When he wanted something, he liked to get it immediately. Sometimes, a wait was unavoidable – like when he wanted Sixer to build an inter-dimensional portal – but this wasn't the same type of situation. From what little the demon had gathered over the course of his two weeks at school, he easily deduced humans – teenagers, were complicated and dramatic creatures. Maybe it was because they were coming into adulthood and were beginning to ask themselves existential questions. Maybe they were just trying to figure out who they were, why they were there, and what their role in society was meant to be. Regardless of what it was, Bill didn't care. He didn't have time to play to their sensibilities because he wasn't entirely sure he was still immortal. If he had unfortunately become mortal, there was no telling how long Timothy's dumb body had left before it gave out. He didn't care what the others said, hot or not, the guy was sickly pale and that wasn't normal.
Stupid Timothy.
With that in mind, Bill decided the first option of waiting just wasn't going to cut it. He wanted results now. With that said, the third option seemed to be a more viable one. He could ignore the problem and force his and Pine Tree's relationship to stay the same. However, it was as he had stated before, teenagers were complicated and dramatic creatures. Obsessively ignoring the tension could lead to more problems in the long run and it was simply better to just face everything head on. The demon would undoubtedly not have the patience to deal with more dumb shit down the line anyway.
"…so yeah. Those were just my thoughts." Shooting Star concluded, "I hoped they helped."
"I'm going to confront him." Bill declared and stoof from his chair.
Shooting Star gawked at him, "Wait! Were you not listening to me!?" She called after him as he left.
Bill didn't grace her with an answer. He doubted she would like hearing that she had been ignored. His focus was on Pine Tree. The brunet was still covered in flour but batter had also been added unto his person. He was wiping it off while glaring at the Monster who guffawed too loudly as she cradled her stomach. As amusing as it was to see one of his intended targets so frustrated and miserable, Bill had to focus. He stomped all the way to Pine Tree and stood firmly in front of him with his arms akimbo. Pine Tree seemed surprised to see him.
"We need to talk." Bill demanded.
"Uh, we're kind of in the middle of something…" Pine Tree mumbled meekly and glanced at the mess on his table.
"I don't care." Bill declared and grabbed him by the wrist. He dragged the brunet out of his seat and out of the class despite his protesting.
"Hang on, you two!" Tad intervened, stopping them both at the door, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to help Dipper get cleaned up." Bill answered stiffly.
"Aww, that's so nice of you." Tad cooed like he had just found a basket of kittens.
Bill flashed him a tense smile before tugging Pine Tree out of the class. He started down the corridor for a moment, so caught up in his annoyance in regards to the situation to realise he had no idea where he was going. When it dawned on him, Bill steadily slowed down.
"What are you doing?" Pine Tree frowned.
"I…I…" Bill started shamefully, "I don't know where the nearest bathroom is…"
"Well, it's fine." Pine Tree shrugged, "I know I'm a mess but I don't actually need to clean up."
"Look at yourself." Bill sneered and scooped some of the batter from his cheek, "You're worse than you think."
The demon stared at the batter on his finger for a moment. He wondered what it tasted like and decided to indulge in his curiosity by bringing his index to his mouth. His face scrunched up reflexively once the flavours assaulted his tongue. The taste was indescribably horrendous.
"What—" Bill coughed. He wanted to rip out his tongue.
"We mixed up the white sugar and salt." Pine Tree explained with an amused smile. How dare he. "Grenda is one heck of a partner. Anyway, we should get back to class."
"No." Bill insisted and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want to talk."
"About what?" Pine Tree asked. He tried to sound slick and nonchalant, but it was painfully obvious that he knew exactly what topic Bill wanted to broach.
"Why are you mad at me?" The blond asked blatantly.
"I'm not—"
"I talked with Sho – Mabel and she said you were." Bill stated.
Pine Tree frowned. "I told her I wasn't mad." He insisted tensely.
"If you're not mad, why are you acting like a jackass?" Bill snapped.
"I'm not." Pine Tree replied quietly.
"Then why are you acting so differently?" Bill pestered, "You've been short with me for most of the week. Sometimes, you won't even look at me, and I don't know what I did wrong."
Pine Tree flinched and veered his gaze to the ground. He seemed guilty. Rightfully so, Bill thought. He was glad to see he was finally getting his point across. It meant he could start progressing with the situation. He was thankful for that as well because, for a moment, it seemed like things were getting drastically worse.
"So you are mad at me." Bill concluded more calmly and gently tilted his head to the side.
"I'm not." Pine Tree insisted and Bill wanted to punch him in the face.
"Liar." Bill frowned, "This all started when Pacifi—"
"Don't." Pine Tree interrupted softly.
"Don't what?" The demon asked.
"Just don't." Pine Tree sighed.
Bill was now exasperated. "Look, I just want to know why you're so mad at me—"
"I'm not mad at you, really." Pine Tree interjected, "I'm just…" He trailed off and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I'm just being stupid, I guess."
"Why?" Bill persisted.
"I…well, I don't want to talk about it." He admitted.
"Why not?" Bill probed. "If it's something I did—"
"It's not, it's me." Pine Tree stated. "I just…you'd think I was disgusting if I told you…"
"No, I wouldn't." Bill said. I mean, I already think all you meat sacks are kind of gross anyways, he thought. "I told you my secret, why can't you tell me yours?"
Pine Tree smiled and chuckled softly. "I guess when you put it like that, I owe you." He said, "After all, it wasn't like I gave you a choice."
Bill gave a timid smile and waited. They stood in silence for a moment before Pine Tree spoke. His face suddenly went red and he wasted no time in hiding it in his hands.
"No, never mind! I can't do it!" He declared.
"What? Come on!" Bill whined.
"I'm sorry, but I can't!" Pine Tree apologised, "I promise I'll tell you one day, just not now! I won't act like a jackass anymore either!"
"You swear on your life?" Bill demanded.
"Yes." Pine Tree answered in a heartbeat.
"I'll hold you to it, then." The demon stated.
They went to the bathroom and Pine Tree cleaned off most of the flour and cookie batter on his own. Then they returned to class and their respective groups. Shooting Star wanted details on how his confrontation had gone but Bill decided to remain vague. It wasn't like there had been much to say. And despite knowing that one day Pine Tree would tell him why he was acting like a baby, it bothered him all the same. Bill didn't mind waiting for certain things but this didn't seem like something worth waiting over. If it wasn't meant to be a problem anymore, why couldn't Pine Tree just tell him?
Thus the demon pondered what exactly Pine Tree's secret was well into Saturday. He had been so distracted that he hardly managed to research things in regards to humans. The blond had simply been too busy trying to think of plausible theories and analysing anything he had done in the recent past that might have been at cause for Pine Tree's shift in humour. By the afternoon, Bill threw his hands in the air angrily and gave up. He wasn't getting anywhere anyhow and pondering was only proving to be a distraction.
Had that been Pine Tree's secret plan all along?
However, Bill forced himself not to think about it anymore. The hours of the day were slipping through his fingers and he needed to start learning more things about teenagers. For a moment, he wondered what he would focus on for the day. Kissing and other affectionate actions seemed to be something gradually growing in importance what with Blondie continuously smashing her lips to his face. At the rate he was going, it wouldn't be long before he was expected to perform an adequate mouth kiss. He supposed he ought to research that in anticipation.
The demon hopped onto his computer and quickly accessed the internet. He only type a few words into the search engine before remembering something he had said he would do a week ago: call a prostitute. Who better to teach him about kissing and sexual desires other than someone who was paid for sex for a living? Talking to a person and asking for clarifications would be a lot easier than researching them on his too.
With that decided, he erased what little he had typed and began seeking prostitutes. He had to be careful when choosing them. Some would undoubtedly be undercover cops looking for anyone who dared indulge in something that was inexplicably illegal (one of the meat sacks' more stupid decision, if he were being honest - there was no reason for such a thing to still be illegal), whereas some others could be littered with diseases. As sucky as Timothy's body already was, Bill didn't need things to get worse through the acquisition of something sexually transmitted.
Eventually, Bill found a website that seemed promising. The sex workers advertised were relatively attractive – despite looking nothing like Shooting Star or Pine Tree – and were expensive. The demon had found that, most of the time, the most expensive items were of the better quality. He supposed the same principle could be applied to the prostitutes he had stumbled upon. Each picture came with a brief description as well as a price. Bill didn't know who to choose but, luckily for him, there was a "surprise me" option.
He clicked the button and filled out the necessary information, setting a time for the sex worker to show up at his house. Then he made the payment and waited. During said wait, Bill sent the only worker for Timothy's family he hadn't fired out to fetch items the internet had told him were necessary when having sex. The driver gave him an odd look and was about to say something, likely give his two cents of advice, but Bill shut him up with the threat of being laid off. The man came and went before the sex worker arrived and the demon thus decided to dismiss the man, giving him a thousand dollars to treat himself.
When the clock turned to seven, the doorbell rang. Bill was happy to see his "teacher" was punctual and answered the door momentarily. He beheld a tall man with dark brown hair loosely tied back in a ponytail. He was fit and wore tight clothes. He seemed surprised with Bill.
"Uh…hi…" He said meekly. "Is...Is…your mom here…? Maybe your dad?"
"They're dead." Bill frowned. Why was he asking that?
"Older sibling then?" He continued nervously.
"No."
"Maybe I have the wrong house." The man concluded, "Does someone named Timothy Smith live here? Or nearby?"
"I am Timothy Smith." Bill said and folded his arms over his chest.
The man gawked. "Wh—how old are you?"
Bill had no idea. Probably three trillion years old? More? Less? As for Timothy, the demon was also clueless on the matter. "Eighteen." He answered. Maybe, he added mentally.
"Oh my god, you're barely legal." The man groaned and passed a hand through his stray locks of hair.
"Still legal." Bill stated, "Is this part of the session, or…?"
"This is just…weird." He explained, "I'm used to much older customers, especially when they live in a house like this."
"If I give you a hundred extra dollars, can we get this show on the road?" Bill asked, annoyed. The internet hadn't said anything about their dumb game of twenty questions. Maybe this fell into what was referred to as "foreplay"?
"A thousand." The man said. There was a little twinkle in his eye at the mention of additional cash. Bill could appreciate that sense of greed.
"You weren't cheap, bucko." He stated.
"You're rich." The man countered.
"Point taken." Bill conceded, "Five hundred."
"Deal."
Bill stepped aside and allowed the man to enter the mansion. He kicked off his shoes and whistled upon beholding the house. The demon didn't understand what he found so impressive. The Smith's sense of style was rather mundane. There was nothing grandiose about the decor which was, in Bill's opinion, absolutely boring. It lacked skulls, limbs, and tasteful blood stains. He should redecorate the place at some point.
"So…" The man started as Bill looked through his wallet for the five hundred dollars, "I'm not judging or anything, but how come you're not doing this with people your age? I mean, you're attractive. I don't see why anyone would refuse."
"I need someone experienced." Bill explained and handed the money.
The guy counted the bills. "Experienced?" He repeated as he did so.
Option 1: "To teach me how to have sex."
Option 2: "To teach me about sex concepts and stuff."
Option 3: "To teach me how to do sexual things."
Just a little note that two of these options will lead to smut with nameless prostitute man. ALSO, I had the biggest debate with two of my friends (a hetero lady and a gay mister) on which gender the prostitute ought to be for a bisexual male. Though my gay friend didn't win me over with his position, I still went with his because if smut were to happen, I'm in the mood for some homosexual goodness.