NSFW warning.

· · ·

There was no sound besides the rain beating against the window, though to him his quiet, ragged breathing roared like a hurricane, dominating his every thought except the one that perched mercilessly in front of him. On the table in front of him sat the means of escape from this room, this world that he was trapped by, wriggling to death now that hope had been dashed. Dipper reached for it, not sure if he was thinking straight or really at all as his fingers brushed the handle of the gun where it sat.

"This can't be the only way, can it?" Dipper asked as he looked it over.

"It's not. That's why I gave you two options, kiddo."

"But, that's not really an option." he muttered painfully as his fingers gripped the handle tight. He lifted the gun in his hand, thinking it felt much, much heavier than he remembered.

The memory erasure device… how strange that it and Dipper should be reunited in this circumstance. Maybe Fiddleford was right to make something like this, just for these occasions. Shifting the eraser so it rested in both hands, Dipper weighed both choices much as he weighed the gun. Even though he trembled terribly, he still gripped it surely, though again the weight of the thing seemed wrong. And he seemed… it felt as though he were just running in the rain, though he was sure he hadn't been. Dipper glanced out the window, where the downpour carried on apathetically.

"This all seems wrong. How can this be the way?"

"Free will is a nasty thing sometimes, Dippingsauce. This is how you deal with it."

The dial on the gun shifted suddenly, rocking the machine in his grip as it wobbled left and right and spelled out one letter after another the words he wished to forget forever. It happened so fast… P; A; C… I-F-C-A. And without so much as a moment wasted, the second word: NORTHWEST.

They glowed menacingly in a faint blue light, and Dipper was even less sure than before that this was the right way. Maybe this was cowardice, what he was doing? Could he call himself a man if he didn't just swallow the pain and carry on? Sure, the first love felt like the only one that ever mattered, but was it really…? But could he call himself a man if this is what left him too broken to ever be right again? The pain felt that heavy a burden on his mind.

It was simple, really, what the right choice was. He didn't touch the dial even once after it seemingly moved of its own accord, deciding his fate without half a thought. All Dipper did was the heavy lifting, raising the memory eraser to his temple, breathing hard and fast as faint tears began to trail down his cheeks. The gun rattled in his hand, but it wouldn't matter soon. As he pulled the trigger, he thought one last time about Pacifica. Yes. He loved her. He did.

· · ·

· · ·

They sat opposite each other, regarding one another across the kitchen table with stern looks, neither sure if they or the other were right. The silence was dreadful and deep following the first volley of conversation, a drawn out selection of near-cliche questions and unsound answers. In the end, Stan and Dipper sat staring at each other because they didn't know what else to talk about on the matter.

After their tryst in the woods, Dipper and Pacifica decided that the next logical thing to do following her stint at the motel was see if his family would take her in for a while, and it was a hard conclusion for them to mutually arrive at. For her part, Pacifica didn't want to do it, simply because she was afraid of making the situation more and more complicated when she already had had her fill of complications, and he did his best to reason her through that fear. It was the first time they'd had an argument the whole month, or at least any disagreement that could qualify as such.

When they had reached the Mystery Shack, they found that they were not there alone, Mabel sitting eagerly on the old wooden steps with one leg propped over the other, her foot bouncing excitedly as she waited. Her grin was impossible in its scope, stretching further across her face than Dipper could ever remember seeing it. Which was strange, since just that morning she was practically in tears. Although, as Dipper dissected the situation in his mind, it all became clear very quickly; he paled instantly, especially so when he realized that Mabel was smiling even wider if possible when she tilted her head and glanced ever-so-casually at Dipper and Pacifica's still clasped hands. It was only about midway into their explanation that Stan's beat up car made the scene, the grimacing old man bringing the affable Soos in tow.

"So." Stan finally said, nearly jolting Dipper as he sat expecting the silence to draw ever on. "What's your plan for all this?"

"Wha…?"

"Yeah, no, what's your plan?"

"Well," Dipper answered quietly, scratching the anxious itch behind his ear, then the other on his thigh. "I was kinda' hoping I could ask the hugest favor I've ever asked… I mean, I know it's kinda…"

"Stupid."

Dipper bit his lip to hide the sting he felt. Yeah, it was a short-sighted idea, he knew that. But he was hoping… he didn't know what for, actually. It was complicated after all, no matter how often Dipper had told himself and Pacifica that it wouldn't be, in the end. He didn't respond, though, even as Stan sat glowering at him, wanting to hear the boy explain himself better. Dipper had the burning desire to get up and leave, just to slip out from under the burning glare of his great uncle's perpetual frown.

"It is stupid," Dipper admitted. "But it would be more stupid to do the opposite."

"Oh come on, kid. It's not like we're talking about some orphan here. Pacifica Northwest. She can go home."

"She can't though." He whispered, maybe because he was losing faith in the idea. In truth, Dipper had left out some of the more toxic elements of Pacifica's background, because he felt that people didn't really need to hear about that. Not from him, anyway.

"Ugh, Dipper—!"

"Grunkle Stan… I want to know if Pacifica can stay here. For a little while, until things work out." He looked Stan in the eye now, just barely trembling from nervousness while he spoke. "I just want to know, first. Can she?"

There was a pause again, though this time it was Stan's turn to sit in anxious doubt, stare across the table, and ponder his position. He had a whole world of problems with this… besides a lean tourist season, and thus the corresponding budget, Stan Pines did not really want to get involved with the Northwest's over their daughter. Lord would there be a world of trouble if Preston and his goon lawyers decided to drop any kind of hammer on them. And to be frank, he still disliked the girl. But Dipper… the kid couldn't lie for beans. There was something he didn't want to talk about, that much was clear, and what's more the boy was doing everything except address it. With a tired sigh, Stan pulled his glasses from their resting place and pressed his hand to his eyes. A headache was already creeping into his skull as it was, and now all this mess …

"Kid, you really gotta' stop surprisin' me. I thought your sister was bad, but you're turnin' into quite the troublemaker yourself. Heh, guess we are related after all."

"That joke's older than you are." Dipper said with a weak chuckle. He found this turn of events to his liking, a good omen in an otherwise bleak stretch.

"Yeah. Look," Stan started as he slid his glasses back over his ears. "I'll talk straight with you about this…"

· · ·

· · ·

Their conversation carried on unheard as Pacifica and Mabel sat opposite each other in the attic, the former planted anxiously on Dipper's bed while his twin sat on her own. Mabel sat cross legged with a nervous smile making an occasional appearance, though even she didn't know what to say while they waited for the conclusion of the man-to-man talk going on below their feet. Maybe the hardest thing was sitting there, staring at Pacifica and remembering everything that she saw; the idea of hiding and watching Dipper and Pacifica throwing themselves into each other in the wild where anyone could just wander by and enjoy a show simply made Mabel flush. Anytime she recalled what she witnessed just an hour or so ago, her body would start smoldering and she'd knit her fingers together, hook her hands over her knee, and stare off at a corner of the room humming until the feeling would leave.

Pacifica herself was also at a loss. The attic unnerved her, a little; it was old, dank, musty, and altogether lacking in color. She had come to accept the equally uninspiring motel room, but this was a departure from that as much as the motel was from Northwest Manor. It wasn't that she disliked the attic so much as she didn't like it yet. She knew she'd overcome that if she had to. Beyond that, though, it was strange that Mabel was just sitting there when Pacifica knew full well what Mabel was really like. She was effervescent at all times, and that was only a surface-level understanding. The silence was thusly startling, making Pacifica very, very nervous. And then, every once in a little while, Pacifica would catch Mabel looking at her with foggy eyes and a faint blush, and then her body language would change so drastically you wouldn't know who you were with. What in the world was she thinking about every time she started staring and blushing? And then it hit her much as it did Dipper, who she remembered getting very quiet but not having the chance to explain.

"Oh no…" Pacifica said as she covered her eyes. "You saw us, didn't you."

"Uh, y-yeah." Mabel answered, glancing up and away again. "I saw you two come back from your walk."

"That's not what I meant… you saw us before that. Didn't you."

Mabel froze, not even twitching her toes as she stared at a rafter and turned beat red, a shade Pacifica matched as she searched the floor in a mild panic. That made this awkward, and she wondered if Dipper knew or if he only just suspected.

"Oh my god… I can't believe this!" she exclaimed as she ran both hands through her hair. "You-! You didn't see everything, did you!?"

"Uhh… I dunno?"

"You dunno? What does that mean, you dunno? What—? Ugh, you watched us start to finish, didn't you!?"

"Um… Kinda'?"

Pacifica growled as she buried her face in her hands, burning alive from the embarrassment. All the while she scratched at her head, questioning herself on how she could be so stupid, Mabel only chewed on her hair and drew her legs tight in front her. She felt a little bad, actually, seeing Pacifica writhe.

"You know… bleh bleh." Mabel began before spitting her tangled, pool-water hair out with a raspberry. "Bleh, you know… you two are, like, super cute."

"What?" The shaken blonde almost barked.

"You and Dipper," Mabel continued. "You look cute together. And I think… I think it's the cutest thing ever that you're in love."

"Oh god! That's not helping! Blah, you did see everything! Perv!"

"Heh heh, yeah, I'm a creep. Yeah. Hmm." Mabel felt awkward, so, trying her best to muster a grin, sought to crack a joke. "So, looks like you've been working out. Just sayin', since I saw you naked."

Pacifica stopped her shamed shuffling to look Mabel hard in the eye. But as Mabel nervously smiled back at her, eyes shifting side to side, she couldn't help but laugh a little. For her part, Mabel thought it best, for now, not to talk about getting her rocks off at Pacifica's expense. After a moment, Pacifica regained her calm, taking a deep breath and sitting tall.

"Fine." She said at last. "You saw us having sex. No big deal. So what?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"I mean, that's… hey, know what? That's a compliment, maybe. Means we're worth watching, right…? Ugh, no. That's messed up."

"What's wrong with being a porn star?" Mabel asked as she leaned forward and giggled, wearing a wide, almost lewdly suggestive smile.

"Shut up!"

They laughed together, mutually happy with the breakdown of the tension. All at once, Pacifica felt more at home in the attic, and for the first time since they arrived Mabel unhooked her legs; peace had been restored. At least for them. As the girls came to terms with their stress, a ruckus carried up from the kitchen below, the sound of a heavy pot hitting the floor with a loud clang followed by the sound of Stan shouting.

"Are you freakin' kidding me!?" The girls heard him shouting, each fearing the worst. "Not in my house, not today!"

They stared at the closed door that separated the attic from the stairway, each wondering the same thing before one finally spoke.

"Think they're ok?" Pacifica asked.

"Gah! It touched me!"

"Wait… that was Dipper." Mabel said, stepping away from the bed and toward the door. "What the heck is going on down there?"

"Sweet lord, look at the size of that thing!"

Curiosity winning the battle, the girls wandered near-silently down the stairs and poked their heads into the kitchen. Stan and Dipper, they saw, were… what were they doing? It looked like they were playing hockey with a broom and a mop, batting back and forth a big, black, fuzzy puck. When the thing crashed into the wall, the girls gasped as the furry thing unfurled and struggled to scamper away.

"Oh gross…" Pacifica said with a nauseous groan.

"That's a huge rat," Mabel finished.

The eight inch long, plump little rodent ran about as the boys gave every effort to box in and shovel the thing around. After a lengthy battle, Stan finally batted the thing out the back door with a loud and powerful whack, slamming the door shut behind it.

"Ugh, gotta' break out the traps again. That's a thing. Now, as for you two." Stan said with a growl, pointing at the girls lurking in the doorway. "Mabel, you're bunking with Pacifica tonight. Help her flip Dipper's gross teenager mattress and get her the good sheets we save for company."

"Wait, what? There are good sheets?" Dipper asked as he propped the mop on the wall.

"I didn't tell ya for your own protection." Stan replied. "Dipper, you can sleep in the break room for the interim."

"Wait, I can stay?", Pacifica asked hopefully, stepping fully into the kitchen.

"Yeah, you can stay. But I got conditions."

The room of youths stood in wait, eager for closure on this most delicate of subjects. Their rapt attention had seized him now, and despite all the tension, all the secrets laid bare, and all the pain of the growing migraine behind his eyes, Stan chuckled.

"If you're gonna' stay, you gotta' pay. In work. Dipper's awful at housekeeping. You can help him by making him do it better."

"Hey, how's that helping?"

"Second, and I'm serious… if someone comes knocking to make you go home." He said sternly as the smile left his face. "I'm not going to stop them. You go home if they come for you. You can't run away to the Mystery Shack, I'm not bringing that on to my house. Got me?"

Pacifica took turns looking at the twins, whose concern betrayed their relieved expressions. She nodded in agreement, not thinking twice to take the offer. Better this, she thought. Without another word, she and Mabel left the kitchen behind them, and Dipper and Stan to conclude their talks. Dipper watched the girls leave, turning back to look his great uncle in the eye, but seeing only his back as he opened the closet up and rummaged through its contents. Apparently the traps weren't an idle piece of small talk.

"Gruncle Stan, I—"

"Is it summer love, kid?"

"What? Summer love?"

"Yeah." He growled as he rubbed his temple, immediately settling into the dig again. "Is it just that fleeting crap?"

"Hey," Dipper shot back with a glare. "That's uncalled for."

"Is it? Heh, maybe it's not after all. Or maybe it is, I dunno. Time'll make the call, I guess. Always does."

The boy seemed jilted by those casual, pessimistic jabs. He couldn't recall his uncle ever having a successful relationship, though he was sure there was one at some point, if half of the man's stories had any foundation to them. Still, though, the criticism seemed totally unfounded. He was mad about it now, but as Dipper watched his elder struggle, he let the steam escape his lungs in a low hiss before crossing the kitchen floor to help Stan find the rat traps.

"I don't know what it is yet." Dipper admitted, helping pull a large box from the depths and digging into its dusty contents. "We only just said 'I love you' today."

"Did you mean it?"

He stopped, pausing to look up from his efforts and out the open window. He could see the treeline, the pines dancing in unison in the summer breeze. Strangely enough, this whole time he had forgotten how hot the day was; even now it didn't seem as troubling as it was earlier. And he found himself smiling.

"Yeah. I did."

· · ·

· · ·

Nightfall gripped the world gently, as it always did, but just as with the field where they first came back together, the Mystery Shack seemed even more tucked into the night than the rest of the world. Standing near the window, staring out into the deep dark, Pacifica mused quietly to herself as Dipper jerry-rigged his bed from the break room couch. Lacking sleep wear, she had borrowed one of Mabel's long, baggy nightshirts, which felt admittedly strange as she stood around her busy lover. She'd be naked and on top of him right if she wasn't due elsewhere.

With a sideways glance at him, Pacifica smiled and spoke softly.

"Dipper… thanks for doing this."

"Nothin' to it."

He seemed a little dismissive, maybe distracted by his fight with the bed sheets that never stopped pulling free from the folds of the sofa. But then, she didn't really care. She frowned at his response, putting foot firmly to his hip when Dipper bent over to manage his bedding. Toppled to the floor, he looked up with a grimace.

"What's that about?"

"I said 'thanks for doing this.'"

"You're welcome, Pacifica." He said with a greatly softened expression. He stood up next to her, staring out the window with her though not knowing what she might be seeing. His hand found hers, and their fingers instinctively wove together.

"Because you didn't have to do this."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

With a gentle tug, Dipper drew her close and kissed her cheek. She smiled, but beyond that, Pacifica didn't seem to engage. It was a little disconcerting. Feeling a need to ease her discomfort, Dipper stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, hugging Pacifica gently, breathing calmly into her long blonde hair. Nuzzling the soft mass, he took in the smell of her shampoo and her own, faint scent, which made him tighten his grip. She ran her fingers over his arms, thin things that they were, but felt safe there in his embrace.

"It would've been easier to back off and let me sink." She whispered, squeezing his muscles. "You could have done that. So thank you for giving me this. And this."

She reached back and ran her hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head and inviting him to nuzzle her neck. Dipper happily took the chance, tickling her skin through her hair with his lips and hot breath. Pacifica's soft moan and tilted head caused him to shift, and his arms set to roaming up and down her body, palms running over her curves through the nightshirt before his lips bypassed her locks and pressed softly against bare skin. She giggled and sighed, holding his head there even as his hands tugged up on her garb enough to slip under the fabric and run up the length of her stomach. When his exploring digits first brushed the underside of her breasts, Dipper instinctively thrust his hips forward a little, rubbing his boxer-clad hips and slowly stirring member against her equally thinly clothed buttocks.

"Hah, whoa, easy big boy." Pacifica said with a grin, reaching around with her free hand and pushing against her lover's package. To his chagrin, since she didn't seem eager to jump his bones tonight.

He sighed in defeat, but she soon turned around in his hands and pressed her lips to his, parting them so she could quickly sneak her tongue into his mouth.

"We can't tonight." Pacifica explained after biting his lower lip and patting his hard-on. "But I definitely think you need relief."

"Heh, oh yeah?"

"Uh huh."

Kissing him again, swirling her tongue around his and groaning into his throat, Dipper found himself guided in a circle; he paid little attention to his surroundings, instead focusing on the feel of her mouth in his, and the feel of her firm ass in his hands as he groped it. He felt her hands on his chest and the edge of the couch on his calves, and with a gentle shove he fell to sitting, staring up at Pacifica's blushing face before she pulled the nightshirt up and over her head. Her hair spilled down across her torso, a messy mass of gold smothering her upper body until she parted the curtain, revealing her naked breasts. She smirked as she watched Dipper's manhood throb in its confines while he frantically pulled his plain white t-shirt off and threw it aside. Pacifica laughed at his enthusiasm, but paused to stop his hands when they set to tugging off his boxers.

"Not yet." She mewled, raising his arms up by the wrists and straddling his hips. She lowered herself gingerly, settling her own aching sex against his. They gasped together when Dipper, driven by instinct, spasmed and lurched upward, and the force happily ground Dipper's hardness against her clit. She bit her lip and convulsed, but calmed down enough to lean in and resume their passionate liplock.

It seemed an eternal process, Pacifica wrestling Dipper's tongue with her own while she slid along his swollen cock, a throaty moan escaping her lips every time her clit was pleasantly nudged, her breasts squeezing against his chest with each shift forward. Dipper found his hands on her ass again, greedily clutching her buttocks while doing his damnedest not to throw her to the floor and force his whole length into her. When she leaned back, extra pressure on his hips made Dipper pull forward, putting his face plainly in front of her breasts. It took only a second before his mouth found the first nipple, which she was happy to let him suckle. But only for a moment it seemed.

"Alright, Pines." She said, pushing him back into the cushions. "You've been good. So now you get yours."

She crawled off of him until she knelt on the floor, and with one smooth motion with her deft little hands she pulled Dipper's cock free of his boxers. He groaned, letting his head fall back as her fingers gently massaged his flesh. When Pacifica's tongue pressed against the base, he jolted and bucked his hips, and when she ran the hot, wet muscle up the underside of his member he sighed loud and proud. She ended her sweep with a flick of the tongue over his cockhead, lapping up the dot of pre-cum she found there before popping the organ into her mouth. His hands immediately found the back of her head, a warm nest of shining yellow bobbing quickly on his member.

Pacifica had rather come to enjoy giving him blowjobs; she got the impression he liked fucking her better, but she couldn't deny the funny, lustful sounds and mannerisms he'd make anytime she moved her tongue in so many interesting ways. Just like now, actually. A moment before his hands were firmly on her head, but now, as she suckled the head hungrily, his left hand had flopped onto the couch, taking up a handful of sheet as his right hand softly pulled on her hair. The slight pain made her wince, but she didn't break her pace just yet, knowing he'd let go in a moment. She wasn't disappointed.

As her mouth worked him over, Pacifica moved a hand below deck, holding his member steady with the other while she blindly fished in her panties for her clit. A pleasant shock let her know she found it. Her forefinger pushed and wiggled it without care as she proceeded, building up her own pleasure as quickly as her mouth mounted his. With an expert swivel of her tongue, Pacifica lifted her head from his shaft, but continued to run her hand over its slick surface as she rested her head on his thigh. She squeezed the member in time with her the probing of her finger, clutching the turgid thing tight as she sighed and dipped her digit inside her hot, wet pussy.

"Oh god." Dipper gasped. "You make the hottest sounds when you finger yourself…"

"Yeah?" She balked as she jerked his stiff manhood with a smirk. "You like that, do you?"

"Ohhh, fuck yes."

"Mhmm, I bet you do," she greedily slid his cock back into her mouth, wiggling her tongue as best she could against the length as she started digging into her canal with two fingers, nudging her clitoris while eagerly searching her insides for that extra spot she could only rarely find. With a few gentle flicks, she found her g-spot, making her groan into his member.

"Pacifica!"

She felt him throbbing, and instantly knew it was happening in only a moment. Pulling his cock free from the depths of her mouth until only the head remained enveloped, Pacifica set to swirling her tongue rapidly around the expanding, super-sensitive head. Dipper's hands wove through her hair, trying to pull her further onto his shaft as it bulged and erupted. As soon as his seed hit her tongue, splashing into the back of her throat, Pacifica's eyes shut tight as her own body burned with release; one last flick of her g-spot and clit together, and she sent herself spiraling into a blazing hot orgasm, complete with stifled, agonizing moans that only served to agitate Dipper's sensitive organ, and coax a couple more bursts of cum out from the overloaded thing. She tilted her head back in victory, letting her mane cascade down her back and tickle her skin while she swallowed the musky load, gasping in deep satisfaction at her own work as much as his taste. She returned to his deflating manhood a moment later, running the whole length into her mouth one last time to mop up what remained of his load before tucking it back into his boxers.

"That's my good boy." She cooed at him while donning her nightshirt once more. "I'll see you in the morning."

Dipper only sighed and raised his hand to wave at her as Pacifica quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. She giggled softly as she thought about his prone form, thinking he must look quite the sight as he would awkwardly crawl into bed and pass out for eight hours. That boy…

The stairs creaked a bit as she climbed them, but apparently no one was around to hear Pacifica slinking back to the attic. She imagined Dipper's uncle would be cross with them for sneaking around like that when he had subtly implied there would be no such nonsense while he was in the house. Which was why, actually, she didn't mount the boy then and there. There would be time for sex later. She pushed against the attic door, which swung open silently, but what happened next caught Pacifica by surprise. Though maybe it shouldn't have.

Mabel, obscured by the darkness, was leaning against the wall her bed lay next to, legs split wide while she eagerly bit down on her shirt collar. In her hand, not so much visible as it was audible, was vibrator that she had snuck into her luggage and brought with her for those rare moments she might find herself alone with her lusty thoughts. Apparently, Pacifica mused, this was such a moment. Still, she wasn't eager to be caught watching her one time nemesis masturbating, so Pacifica grabbed the door as quietly as she could and pulled it back. She didn't close it all the way, though, when she thought she heard…

"Gah… oh jeez… Dip…"

"What the hell?"

Pacifica leaned against the door frame trying to peer through the crack to see only darkness. She silently cursed herself, but wasn't willing to risk being spotted and flooding the room with tension and misunderstanding.

"Ffffuuh… Pacifica… Dipper…"

Was she… was she fantasizing about them? That perverted little freak! Sitting back with only her numbness and her thoughts, Pacifica wondered mouth agape what would lead to that. Her brother? Seriously…? Well, maybe. Thinking back to what Mabel said earlier, Pacifica recalled one comment in particular. Maybe she didn't mind being thought of as a porn star. In a way. A very narrow way, wherein no one else had to know what was going on. Ever.

And suddenly, there it was: the sharp cry in the dark that pointed toward orgasm. Lurking around the door ever so slightly, Pacifica peered through the gloom. Mabel had arched her back, her head pressed hard against the wall while her hips bucked and forced the vibrator against her nether regions. After a short term of gasping and patting herself down, Mabel switched off her toy. Her voyeur lost her footing though, and grabbing the door to keep from falling to the floor resulted in the frame giving out a loud creak.

"Oh fart!"

Like a bolt of lightning, Mabel had her shirt pulled down and her body hidden from view by the covers. Pacifica stifled a chuckle before pushing the door the rest of way open, though for good measure she opted to not know what was going on just a moment before.

"Mabel? You awake?"

"Mmm, yeah." The flustered girl answered, burying her face in the pillow. "Dipper settle in fine?"

"Mmm, yeah." Pacifica muttered through a grin as she eased into her covers, thinking back on her own lustful adventures.

The room was eerie, steeped deep in silence and shadow, and without Dipper's arm draped around her, Pacifica felt a little scared and out of place. It was a strange thing, actually, because she was sharing a room with someone who, oddly, felt the same thing for the same reason, granted Mabel and Dipper didn't have the same "depth" to their relationship. Still, it was a fair statement that Mabel felt lonely these days too. Pacifica pondered that a moment before her eyes drifted closed. Sleep, though, would have to wait.

"Uhm." Came a whisper in the dark. "Pacifica?"

"…yeah?"

"So, uhh… When you were downstairs… were you and Dipper…?"

"No." Pacifica answered quickly, more quickly than honesty would permit. "No, we weren't doing that."

"Oh… okay."

"Something else on your mind, Mabel?"

"How… good does it feel?"

"What?" Pacifica asked as she leaned up.

"It's-it's nothing!"

Pacifica's eyes searched the bed in front of her as her mind scrambled to respond, but found nothing there to help. Surely Mabel knew it felt good, she was masturbating just moments ago. Although, Pacifica recalled herself the difference between her imagination and the reality of it.

"It feels…" She offered with quiet sympathy. "I think it feels amazing. I don't know how it feels for everyone else… my friends all lost their virginity before me, but they never said anything about how they felt. But when I'm with him… Dipper makes me feel amazing."

The tension that followed made her feel uncomfortable; maybe even saying her brother's name was a mistake. Pacifica settled back into bed, covering herself with the thin blanket and closing her eyes in rest. There was a final, brief, quiet breach of the night.

"Wow…" Mabel whispered before rolling over.

"Wow… yeah," Pacifica thought with a grin before turning to her side to face the wall. "That's definitely how he makes me feel. Wow."