NSFW warning.

· · ·

It had been going on for a month now. She wasn't sure how often it was happening, but it was troubling, even if that wasn't the word her brain put to it. There were any number of other ways to describe how he was acting… weird, that was probably how she'd best like to say it. Yeah. Weird.

It was weird how Dipper wasn't spending as much time around lately, but that was only a superficial understanding of the present circumstance. It was precisely weird that Dipper was frequently disappearing at curious hours in the day, or night, and it was weird that sometimes he'd show up a half-hour later, sometimes not for hours, sometimes not until the next day.

Full disclosure though? The one thing that struck Mabel as truly, deeply, unapologetically weird, even now, thirty days into summer vacation in Gravity Falls, the town that it was, was that Dipper wasn't talking to her about what was going on. As he came of age, her family told her, that would happen. It would happen to both of them, they said; twins are their own best friends, even through to adulthood, but the bond would stretch with age. They would always be twins, but like all things in time, entropy would pull them apart.

Still, she didn't think now would be the time. Does anyone though?

Mabel sat at the breakfast table, woken early from dreamless sleep by songbirds and a nagging feeling. When she rolled over in her bed that morning, before she'd even opened her eyes, the girl had become certain the bed opposite hers would be empty. It was. She had sighed tiredly, pushed off her mattress tiredly, rubbed her eyes, dressed, went down the stairs, poured herself cereal and set to eating it with a grimace, tiredly. She'd been sleeping terribly for the past week, coinciding with a recent uptick in Dipper's truant behavior. And now she was exhausted, all from concern for her twin. Spoonful after spoonful of sugar cereal, dyed in all variety of "harmless" chemicals to appeal to the eyes of children half her age, went dashed into pieces into her stomach, but she ate only out of habit since her stomach was in knots. When the back door opened slowly, its motions deliberately handled to minimize motion and noise in the early hours, Mabel leaned into one hand as she propped her elbow up, wagging the spoon in her other hand.

"Six in morning, Dipping sauce." She muttered with some fake cheer. It didn't mask anything.

"Mabel!" Dipper half-shouted.

"What's up bro-bro?"

She dropped her spoon into the half-empty bowl, doing her best to be a clown and a comfort. And she spun herself around in her chair, for the same reason, facing her brother with a smile. Mabel patted on the seat of the chair next to her, inviting him to do what he hadn't been doing for a month.

"Mabel, uhm… I was just, uhh…"

She silently patted the seat again, but this time she wasn't smiling. Whatever excuse Dipper was trying to muster up, it was already doomed to heedlessness. Mabel's eyes pleaded with him as he stood staring at her from across the room, and for his part Dipper was rooted in place, an overnight bag hanging over his shoulder as he occasionally glanced at his sister, but mostly looked at the floor.

"Dipper, it's just a chair." Mabel offered in her most diplomatic tone. "If you're afraid something's gonna' bite you in the butt."

"Why would I be afraid of that?"

"I wouldn't know. You don't tell me much these days."

Maybe it was that he was tired, but that struck him wrong; Dipper's face contorted slightly as he went from zero to frustrated, and without another word he started walking fast to the other side of the kitchen. There was a snag on his shirt as he passed his sister, and though he turned back to look in annoyance, the pathetic sight of Mabel gently tugging on his wrinkled sleeve with her head tilted down made his heart sink.

"It's not fair." She said at length.

"What's not fair?"

"You aren't being fair."

He heard her sniffling, and she let go of his shirt so she could turn back to the table. Mabel pushed her bowl away from her as she plopped her arms down to cradle her forehead, her bulky striped blue sweater muffling the sound of crying. Man oh man, did that hurt. His bag he dropped to the floor, and his butt he parked in the chair she wanted him to sit in, though Dipper pulled it close enough to his weepy sister that he could put an arm around her shoulder. She seemed unwilling to reciprocate, but she didn't push him away; the sniffling remained, but wasn't full-on crying anymore.

"I just wanna' know that you're okay. That's fair, isn't it?"

"Yeah. That's totally fair, Mabel."

"So," She said as she peeled her face from the wool of her sleeves, tears gluing skin to fabric for a moment. "Are you?"

He thought about that, and even though the answer was so simple he inwardly knew how much thought he had put into it.

"Yeah. I'm doing great actually."

"That's great, Dipper. What's going on that's so great?"

That was trickier. It wasn't that he didn't want to say, since for a while now the only thing he really wanted was a girlfriend, and for all intents and purposes he had one now. But he wasn't certain he should.

"Mabel, that's… mmm, that's harder to answer."

"Hard?" Mabel balked, losing her calm demeanor for a moment and choking back a few sobs. "What's so hard about it?"

"It's… gah, complicated."

He sighed and slouched in his seat, taking his arm from her shoulder so he could lean into his knees. His downcast eyes seemed an indicator of a great deal of internal conflict, and now it was Mabel's turn to feel bad. Wiping her tears and dribbling mucus away with her baggy sleeves, she took a deep breath and leaned in to hug and console her brother.

"It's okay, bro." She whispered. "I won't tell anyone that you suck butts and like it."

"Whoa, what?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna make up a bunch of stories about you."

Mabel leaned back enough that she could look Dipper in the eye. He was befuddled, that was plain to see, but her infectious grin wouldn't be stopped, and in moments Dipper found himself laughing, which made Mabel laugh as well.

"Hey." he began. "I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you."

"Or spending time with me."

"Or spending time with you. And I know that you wanna' know what's going on. But, I can't tell you yet. Or Stan or Soos or anyone, really. When I can though, I'll tell you everything."

"Everything, huh? Must be a big secret."

"You have no idea." He thought as he pushed back from the table.

Mabel did the same, at first only to clear the table, but as he watched it seemed more and more like she was going to follow him upstairs. Like Dipper, she was looking to return to bed, get more rest, and try to start the day over in a few hours. They marched single file up the stairs, slogging their way along through the mire of sleepless nights. The attic lay before them both; Dipper stopped to look at the room again, taking in the sight of the dust-filled light that had just begun to creep in through the stained glass across from him. Mabel, in contrast, simply pushed past her brother and bee-lined to her bed, which she dropped down on face first.

Her brother shuffled to his own a moment after, audibly dropping his bag and his hat to the floor, sitting on the mattress and making the old floor creak beneath him. She watched through one eye as he pulled his shoes off, then his over shirt, leaving him bare chested. … Wait a moment.

"Dipper?"

"Yeah, Mabel?"

"Didn't you have an undershirt on last night?"

"O-oh." He hitched a moment. "no, I don't think so."

"You sure about that?" She opened her other eye as he crawled into bed. She could have sworn she saw marks on his back for a moment before the covers concealed his body.

"Yeah."

The tension that sprung from nowhere… how he hated it. He knew full well where that shirt was; Pacifica wore it as she got up from their bed last night, and had kept it as a memento. He thought it was cute and a little erotic at the time, since her breasts pulled it tight across her body and framed her rear perfectly. So perfectly in fact that he couldn't help himself and followed Pacifica so as to make love a third time that night. But now Dipper regretted leaving these breadcrumbs to be followed. Mabel, spaz that she might be, was the furthest thing from dumb.

"You promise you'll tell me everything Dipper?"

She looked half asleep now, eyes closed gently with a pillow pulled close under her chin.

"I promise, Mabel. I promise."

Dipper let his head hit the cushioning of his pillow, and his late nights and active days ran him down in an instant. Eyes drifting shut, he had only enough time to let his mind drift into remembrance of the night before. Luckily enough, his dreams would carry the memory too, just in case consciousness wasn't good enough.

· · ·

· · ·

As he watched her hips, all he could think was how fantastic it felt; she had him pinned beneath her, and leaning back with her right arm reaching down to her hip where Dipper's hand held her tight while her left hand wiped her hair from her sweaty brow, Pacifica rose and fell onto his shaft again and again. A strange feeling of ecstasy ran through his flesh each time he watched Pacifica lift up, her perfect buttocks tensing in front of his eyes as her legs worked hard to raise her body, giving him a glimpse of his member just before it disappeared into her once more. Each time her hips dropped, each time their bodies collided, Pacifica would let out a sharp breath, a hiccup of pleasure that slipped from her throat as she pawed at her hair and gripped tight on his hand. Having had sex with this beautiful woman maybe fifty times now, Dipper knew she'd be close, and reverse cowgirl was one of her favorite positions since it turned out to be a surefire way for her to blow her own mind.

"D-d-dipper!" She cried out as her body started to spasm. Pacifica leaned forward, planting her hands on the bed spread between his knees and bucking her hips hard and fast. "Do it! Inside! I love it inside!"

Dipper held tight onto her hips, thrusting his own to meet her and forcing his cock deep as it would go. He found, through the days and nights, that she loved that too. His member grew more hot and swollen than before, a sensation that made her blood boil.

"Oh god! Dipper!"

She leaned forward until her face was pressed against the comforter as Dipper thrust up hard, pushing her forward a little as he emptied his load inside her. Pacifica came hard and vocally, gasping and ululating into the blanket to muffle her orgasmic sounds. When they came back down to earth, and when their breathing slowed, Pacifica pulled herself off her lover's softening manhood and crawled her way to a space next to him, laying her head of golden hair next to his messy mane on the same pillow he came to rest on. She was so close to him she swore she could hear his heartbeat, though that could just as easily have been her own. In situations where she couldn't tell, she romantically imagined there was no difference. … Huh, when did she start doing that, she wondered.

"Hah, yeah." She said with a sigh and a smile. "Good fuck, Pines. Good fuck.

"Huh, yeah, you know you do most of the work in that position, right?"

"S'what's so good about it." She replied sleepily. He couldn't see it, but she was positively aglow now.

They lay together entwined in each other's limbs for a while, and every now and then Dipper would glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, the sight of its bright red LED lights spelling out the time with those obnoxious little red dots. It was a little past midnight now, and last he remembered it was half past eleven. It might be his imagination, but it seems they were going at it for a full half-hour. He smiled at that, thinking about what this meant for his stamina.

Taking his eyes off the clock, Dipper scanned the room again; it was a darkly colored, minimalistic space, exactly what one would expect of a cheap motel on the side of the road. Thinking about the conditions of the room made him feel a bit dirty, since he thought that Pacifica deserved to make love in a much greater style than this. For her part, she was adamantly against doing it anywhere else. As such, they'd met at this motel for most of the evenings they spent their time together, and he was pretty sure they got this room almost every time.

When Pacifica stirred in his arms, Dipper pulled her closer, making her hum quietly in his ear. With how close she was to him, the humming tickled him. She woke from her brief sleep and kissed his neck.

"You awake?" She whispered.

"Yeah." He answered more faintly than she asked.

"Something bothering you?"

He didn't answer, not because he was afraid to, but because he knew it was silly to broach the subject again.

"Is it the room thing again?"

Dipper smiled and closed his eyes. She could read him like a book when she had him naked under her body.

"Yeah." He said with a mild tone. "But I didn't say anything 'cause—"

"'Cause you knew I'd say it's fine. You know it's fine, right?"

"I do. I do know it's fine."

Pacifica propped herself up on her elbow and reached for him. She pulled him into her lips for a brief kiss before shaking her fingers through his hair with a grin and a giggle.

"Then stop thinking about it." She started to crawl over his body. "Alright, move, Dip. I gotta' go."

Dragging herself from the warmth of the bed and his body, Pacifica found the air in the room stinging in its coolness. They had cranked the air conditioning as low as it would allow, the night being sticky and hot outside, and neither she nor Dipper had wanted that feeling to follow them into bed. Now, though, with sweat clinging to her naked body and sixty degree air swirling around her, that plan just outright sucked. She pulled on her panties but couldn't seem to find…

"Dipper, where's my shirt?"

"Why do you need your shirt?" He said with a smirk as he rolled over to stare at her as she pawed at the ground in the dark.

"It's fucking freezing, that's why."

He reached out to the lamp on the nightstand, a quick click of the cheap fixture bathing the room in a pale yellow light and illuminating Pacifica as she scratched at the floor for her clothing. It was revealed that none of the rest of her clothes was on this side of the bed, but Dipper's undershirt was close at hand. This, she decided, would have to make do. Dipper decided much the same as he watched her lift the garment into the air, exposing her breasts to his eyes before pulling the shirt down over her head and tight across her torso. He instantly fell in love with the way she wore his shirt, and how it terminated just at her waist, leaving her hips and all that lay below them exposed.

"Turn up the temperature, okay?" She said more than she asked as she made her way to the bathroom.

He watched her leave, staying in bed for a while before getting up to do as she asked; it was actually pretty brisk in there, he finally thought. The old springs of the box frame creaked as he shifted his weight and planted his feet on the dusty discount carpet, its evergreen color looking sicklier in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He stared at the draped window absentmindedly as he approached the air conditioner, the dirty beige plastic of its frame vibrating solemnly as the machine choked out another gust of cold air. It made Dipper shiver as he stopped in front of it, and with great effort he managed to adjust the setting a whole twelve degrees. Even though it now read seventy-two, though, the dilapidated ventilator seemed eager to keep pumping wind at its previous setting. Only after a few minutes of continued struggle did the young man finally change the accursed thing's mind, and this was done by frustratingly unplugging the machine for a few seconds.

Once he had the air conditioner acting as he wanted, Dipper stood with one last chill running the length of his body and turned back to face the bed. He saw Pacifica leaned over the sink, staring in the vanity mirror intently and picking at one thing or another. Her posture made him think lewd things about her; he loved the look of her ass jutting out in front of him, wiggling back and forth subconsciously as she browsed her facial features for annoyances. Finding his flesh erect and his blood boiling again, Dipper quietly crossed the gap to her, stopping just behind Pacifica.

"Dipper?" She asked when she finally saw him in the mirror behind her. The sight gave her a little start. "Finally get the air fixed?"

He ran his hands up and down her sides, nodding and humming in affirmation as she stay leaned forward in front of him. Having her warm body right in front of him left Dipper rock hard, but it wasn't until Pacifica stood up straight and backed up into him that she noticed his member standing ready for her. It arched down and slipped between her legs, making her gasp in surprise.

"W-whoa, hey there!"

He ran his hands up and down her body until with a firm tug she was fully against him, his chest fitting perfectly with her back. Dipper reached between her arms and drew her shirt up to expose her breasts in the mirror, which made her smile and roll her eyes.

"Feeling wound up already, huh? You know I'm not just a piece of meat, right? I'm—mmm, gently now…"

She was interrupted by the feel of his hands on her breasts, fondling them firmly in his confident grip as he suckled on her exposed collarbone. With lustful ambition barely tempered by a small amount of patience, Dipper flicked his thumbs over her nipples, switching from suckling to nibbling and from her collarbone to her ear. Pacifica, moaning softly, pushed her hips back, rubbing her warming nether regions against the rod situated conveniently next to them. Without thinking about it, she reached a hand between her legs and gently squeezed his head; he groaned into her ear and thrust forward, forcing his cock into view in the mirror.

"Pacifica… can we please? Right here?"

She groaned in answer, breaking his grip to lean forward and pull at the hem of her underwear, letting them fall to the floor around her ankles as she presented her pert back end for her lover. Dipper ran his hands over her smooth skin before guiding his aching, throbbing cock to her waiting entrance. Pacifica stood waiting, shuddering as she bit her lip and closed her eyes, sighing excitedly when she felt his flesh meet hers, parting it, running smoothly into her soaked, overheated insides. Each time she felt him move, every thrust she felt she also felt make her breasts dance about as they hung in space.

"That sounds so hot." She thought. "I bet it looks so hot… Oh, wait!"

She remembered the mirror, and opening her eyes felt like the best decision in the world as Pacifica took in the sight reflected there: Dipper's face twisted in delight as he bucked his hips into her own, her face as she blushed and moaned from the attention, the sight of her fleshy globes swaying almost violently. This, she thought, was all there ever needed to be.

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· · ·

His eyes shot open as he took a sharp breath, and he immediately remembered where he was. The attic was somewhat blurry as he scanned the room, a slowly brightening space that was also getting uncomfortably warm as the day progressed. Wondering what time it was, Dipper rolled to his back and glanced at his wrist; the watch was gone again though this time Dipper only sighed and threw the covers from his bed. He knew he left his watch in his backpack, and after some convincing managed to get from his spot and walk to where he cast his bag to the floor. The watch, which he fished from a deep pocket, told him that he had lost more time than he thought: it was half past two already.

"Yeesh, no wonder it's so hot…" He said with a sigh as he donned the time piece. "Mabel, hey, time to wake up."

But she wasn't there. She'd already got up and left, apparently, leaving Dipper to snooze into the afternoon. Nice. He wondered when she had awoken, and if she had thought of waking him or leaving him there. And when he thought about it he realized that Stan would probably be pissed off about this. Not so much Dipper sleeping in late, but his behavior the past month leading up to and finishing with today. If Mabel was upset, Stan probably didn't much like it either.

"It'll be fine." Dipper whispered as he dressed himself. "It's summer vacation. Stan will be cool… Yeah."

Dipper smoothed down his hair before pulling his hat over the mass of unwieldy locks, taking an extra moment to straighten his clothes and make sure everything was in order. Glancing in the mirror hanging on the wall, he decided that this was… about as good as it was going to get, actually.

"Fine… It's cool. It's cool."

Downstairs he found the house empty, fans blowing in air through all the open windows on the shady side of the house being the only sound he could hear. No Mabel, no Stan… they didn't go somewhere, did they? In the kitchen, Dipper found only sunshine and another open window; it felt especially hot in here, but nothing was different. Wait, no. There it was, pinned to the refrigerator. Dipper found a note there, the bright yellow writing paper contrasting starkly with the faded dark paint of the long obsolete ice box. It was clearly meant for him, since it had his name spelled out and underlined in big red letters.

"Dipper,

It's crazy hot today, and no suckers showed so we're going to the pool. Of course by we, I mean everyone except you! You missed work, so you get triple chores. You can sweep the place inside and out, vacuum the rugs, and clean the gutters. Whatever order you want, I'm not picky. Ladder's outside.

-Stan

P.S. - Mabel told me something about you suckin' butts. I'll have to talk some sense into you about that later, creep."

He wadded up the note with a frown and a growl, not cursing Stan so much as himself, and maybe Mabel for leaving him in bed when she clearly got up. Fine, whatever; he started with the sweeping, since in his mind gathering all the dust to the carpet before vacuuming made sense. The theory only worked in a universe without wind, and Dipper found the fans proved vexing in this regard. No sooner had he gathered up a sizeable pile of dust at the carpet's edge did the swiveling rotary fan pivot in his direction, scattering the mess once more.

"What? Nuhuh." Dipper said as he tossed the broom to the floor.

In his frustration he went room to room, unplugging every fan he could find, ten in all, before he resumed sweeping. This proved foolhardy as well, though, as the already hot shack got ten degrees warmer in half as many minutes. And the sweat on his brow, dripping down into his eyes, made it all just unbearable.

"This is ridiculous! Grah…! Huh, okay, calm down man. Just… just muscle through."

And so he did. Once the sweeping and vacuuming were finished, Dipper made another pass through the house to return air circulation to the rooms that desperately needed it. Namely, all of them. But that did little to cool his head, and knowing full well he was headed to the roof Dipper washed his face and neck with a washcloth that, despite being dampened with lukewarm water, proved much more satisfying than the air being blown in from outside. Seriously, it felt just as hot as if one were standing in the sun.

He changed his mind about that five minutes into his gutter duty. It was infinitely worse on that ladder, scooping pine needles and ooze and the occasional mouse skeleton from the rain catches and shingles. Those skeletons made him grimace anytime he plucked one from the tarry slop; clearly this was the work of an owl, but it was still gross, and Dipper never felt clean touching them even though he had thick rubber gloves on.

"This is disgusting, Stan. Seriously, did you just save up this gutter crap all year for me?" He grumbled as he pulled the taught, heavy garden hose from its resting place on the ladder, spraying down the gutter to clear the thin layer of slime that remained in the space he just finished.

It bubbled and frothed, filling the already stagnant air with the scent of the rotting vegetable matter. In the thick summer heat, it struck Dipper hard and plunged his stomach into nauseous tumult. Choking on an acidic burp, he dropped the hose to the ground, cursing himself out the second the nozzle slipped from his fingers.

"Seriously?! Ugh! Stupid!"

"Yeah, you kinda' are."

"Huh? Pacifica?"

She stood below, staring up at him while Dipper turned his head as far around as it would go to scan the area, spotting her just a few feet away from the ladder. Her teal t-shirt and white mini-skirt looked starkly comfortable in the hundred degree weather compared to his dirty, dark jeans and grey work shirt.

"Look at you up there." She said with a smirk. "Sweaty working man. Betcha' never thought you'd end up living the life you got now, huh Pines?"

He started descending the ladder mid-sentence, pausing to look back at her again with a curious look. She looked a little shaky; was he imagining that, or was something troubling her?

"What life is that exactly?" He posed curiously.

"Why, the life of being the hot handyman who sleeps with the debutant, Pines." Pacifica answered as she smiled and plucked off her designer sunglasses. "Did you ever expect that?"

"Can't say I did, no."

Safely on the ground, Dipper pulled one slime-smothered glove off after the other, hanging them over the rungs of the ladder. He freed his head from his hat to wipe the sweat from his freckled brow, not noticing Pacifica staring at him as he did.

"What're you doing here, Pacifica? It's a long way from town, especially since it's so hot."

"Well, to tell the truth," she said as she glanced at the ground, "I tried to book another night at the motel. My cards were declined."

"Your parents cut you off?"

"Looks like it. So we can't really spend our nights fucking there anymore."

It stunned him even now how freely she said that word in front of him these days. Even when they were younger and at each other's throats, Dipper never imagined Pacifica would drop f-bombs like they were going out of style. He chalked it up to rebelliousness, but there was another thing that concerned him.

"Pacifica," He said calmly. "Where will you stay at all if you don't have your credit cards?"

"I didn't want to think about that. Not really." She turned and looked back down the road she came. "They cut me off so I'd come home. Think I should go?"

"I, well… not really, I guess."

"Don't have much choice, do I?"

He didn't have an answer to that; he actually always worried that this moment would eventually come. Pacifica never wanted to talk about it, but Dipper was sure that the Northwests would shut down their daughter's expenses when they grew tired of her spending their money just to avoid them. That it took a month said a lot about them. The silence grew intolerable, so he broke it.

"Come inside. Cool off for a few minutes first."

The kitchen was enough cooler that it didn't seem so unpleasant to just sit and relax at the table. Plopping a pair of Pitt sodas on the worn wood, Dipper and Pacifica sat and stared at the wall for a few minutes, neither looking away from whatever it was they were imagining.

"If I go home." She said at long last. "They'll want to know what I've been doing. I'll have to tell them I've been seeing someone… that I've been seeing you."

"Yeah." Dipper nearly whispered. "I guess you would."

"I'm so stupid, Dipper…" Pacifica said with a hitch in her throat that suggested she was close to crying. "I shouldn't have done any of this."

"You're not stupid, Pacifica…"

"I am though."

She ran her hands through her hair, grimacing and weeping softly as she thought about all the crap that was headed her way. She felt worse now than she had a month ago, thinking about how her family was going to rip her apart and keep her from this new happiness just like they did all the other good things in her past. All Pacifica wanted to do now was cry again. When she felt his hand take hers and hold it tight, her eyes opened and she gripped him back.

"You aren't stupid, Pacifica." He said as he looked into her watering eyes. "And I'm… I'm not just saying that because you lay on top of me naked."

He looked so awkward talking about their love life that it made Pacifica smile and laugh a little, then more as he quietly laughed too. When she stopped, she noticed he was still holding her hand and still smiling as he looked into her eyes. Altogether, it made her feel like no matter what, it would be fine.

"Come on, Pacifica." He said with a tug of her hand, pulling her to her feet. "This whole pity thing isn't working for you. Let's go for a walk."