I CANNOT TELL IF THIS IS PORN WITH PLOT OR PLOT WITH PORN. EITHER WAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY ETERNAL SHAME.
PLEASE ENJOY
OCCURS DURING NWHS
Nine- A Boring Morning
Gideon Gleeful grinned as he snuck his way through the woods, he wore camouflage to better blend in with his surroundings. His enormous hair was laid flat for once and stuffed under a beanie. After momentarily capturing one Bill Cipher for a specific amount of time the previous night he had been in conference with one Maya Enigma until about an hour prior. She had detailed his next instructions and had kept her enraged brother at bay, her strength having increased incredibly to the point that she barely broke a sweat against his angry flames.
He would soon be no match for her, and no one else would be for that matter.
It was now early morning, very early. The rosy fingers of dawn were just starting their work in lightening the sky. Gideon's grin gained a razor edge as he came to a clearing in the trees, the Mystery Shack was not too far away. With surprising stealth for a pudgy, small boy he made his way over and got on the back porch.
He tried the knob to the door, when it proved to be locked he took a few small tools from his pockets and began working on the lock. In under a minute it turned with a quiet click; he had learned many useful skills in his short time in prison. Quietly he entered the home, closing the door behind him silently, and made his way through.
In no time at all he stood in front of a nondescript vending machine, he raised a hand to the key pad and entered the code he had been told. He watched in amazement as it slide to the side and revealed a stair way. He quickly made his way in and watched as the machine replaced itself. Gideon ignored the offered lantern on the wall and pulled out a small but strong flashlight he had brought with him. Cautiously the devious boy made his way down the steps, into the elevator and down to the lab.
When the doors slid open he gasped at what he saw.
"My, my Stanford. You really are smarter than you look."
Gideon was impressed, the blue demoness had given him some information on Stan and his past. As much as possible after carding through what she could of his brother's and his lover's memories.
Now that had been a surprise to learn, not only was Stan a twin-and his brother was the Author!- but also he was in love with the mad scientist of a hobo. He couldn't wait to mock him for that last bit.
Going to any means to reach your own personal goals, Gideon understood that. Even respected it.
But loving Fiddleford H. McGucket?
Man had no taste in that regard.
Gideon took a moment to look in awe at the portal machine, the work of three men who had wanted to change the world.
Now he would do it for them.
Using the memories Maya had burned into his mind Gideon started up the machine, scrambling on to a computer chair and wheeling himself around on it so as to reach everything. When all of the machinery in the control room had started up he darted out to the main floor of the lab. He checked gauges and pulled levers, he watched as the portal activated.
Colors and lights flashed. Power surged and disturbed the quiet, early morning air. Gideon barely reacted when he lifted a good half foot above the ground, simply bracing his feet when gravity reasserted itself.
He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a watch he had stolen from his father, he activated the timer function and coded in the correct number of hours. The machine needed to be running nice and hot for it to be of use. Now all he had to do was to wait. And keep it on.
"What is going on here?!"
Gideon turned in surprise.
"Stanford! Wha-wait. You're not Stanford!"
Gideon looked in surprise to find an angry man standing not too far away from himself. He had the face and body of Stan, but he was so much younger.
Stanley stood in a pair of grey sweats and one of Stan's old white muscle shirts, the material having turned comfortable and stretched out with time and use. After discussing on what to do the night before Stanford and Fiddleford had tried to get him up into the house but his danger sense had been tingling; he had refused to move.
He had spent the night in the cot they stored in the lab, going over the journals his grandchild didn't have glued to his hands, and he was glad of it. Paranoia could be useful.
"You're right kid. The name's Stanley, and this is my lab and my machine you're messing with. Turn it off now or we're going to have some trouble."
Stanley raised his hands and Gideon stared when he saw how many fingers he had.
Twelve. Gideon's mind clicked.
He grinned.
"Well, if it isn't the mysterious Author of the journals! We meet at last! Welcome back from the land of the demons!"
Stanley's eyes widened in surprise.
"How did you-"
"I know many things. I've got sight beyond sight."
Gideon's smile turned razor edged again and Stanley narrowed his eyes, he could see it. The spark of madness in the young child's orbs; the glint of something else buried deep within. It reminded him of his own reflection once upon a time, and it sent a chill down his spine.
The tattoo upon his shoulder, a twin to the one Stan himself wore but on the opposing side, began to warm.
"Whatever's she's promised you kid she's lying! She and her brother are bad news! Believe me!"
"I know perfectly well what kind of "news" she is, and Bill for that matter. I'll tell you now I'm mighty fine with what the Lady has planned."
"What?!" Stanley's eyes widened.
"Everything will be destroyed and renewed; I and mine will watch it burn!" The boy's voice took on a high edge.
It was obvious he wasn't himself.
"Let's dance fella." Gideon went into a stance, one of his hands positioned close to the surprise he had in his back pocket.
Stanley frowned and approached, slowly.
"I don't want to hurt ya kid, but this machine needs to get shut down. NOW!"
He leapt forward, arms out to try and grab, Gideon moved away and pulled out his surprise. Stanley let out a large pained yell as he felt a burning sensation flare up from his lower leg and invade his whole body. After a few seconds of agony he collapsed to the ground, woozy.
"Ugh..."
Gideon laughed, "Prison guards should really keep better track of their belongings."
He brandished the Taser and advanced toward Stanley, who had managed to roll over onto his side and was trying to get up.
"I think it's time you went back to sleep. Just for a while, mind; until we're in need of you."
"You…won't…win." Stanley's arms wouldn't do what he wanted them to, his hands clenched and unclenched uselessly.
"Friend, She already has."
Gideon made sure to give Stanley a more powerful dose of electricity. Stanley groaned as everything went black.
Several stories above Fiddleford McGucket was just waking up, he stretched lazily and laughed when he felt arms tighten around his waist and a pair of lips climb up his back shoulder and come to rest at his neck, above the chain of the medallion Stan had given him.
"Stanford that tickles." He said with a grin.
Stanford laughed next to his ear, his voice husky with sleep. "I know."
Fiddleford shifted a bit so he could look at Stan more easily, he needed his glasses for fine reading- as out of date as the pair he used were they still did the job- but he could see well enough without them.
"What are you even doing up? It's only been a few hours and you were so tired after everything."
He gazed up at the other man, noting his lip was healing from his scuffle last night; Stan didn't have his own glasses on either so Fiddlford got a good view of his eyes. Right now they had such a soft, bright look to them. One he hadn't seen for such a long time.
"I'm fine, and I should be asking you that, especially with the hit Stanley gave you."
Here Stanford tenderly fingered the bruise on Fiddleford's face, it was dark but not large. Thankfully.
Fiddleford laughed despite the pain on his face and the situation at hand, "It's all of the excitement, I guess. And nervousness. I don't feel tired though."
He paused a moment and then continued.
"And I've been hit worse than this. Especially during the years you weren't around to 'protect' me. Plus I somewhat deserved this one. So…"
He gave a small shrug and would have smiled hadn't Stanford's mouth turned into a small frown.
"You didn't deserve it. Not really. What you did…what happened was the result of what we were doing."
His hand went down to grip Fiddleford's shoulder just as his eyes lowered and came to rest on the symbol stamped onto the gold pendant around the smaller man's neck.
"I promise nothing else is going to happen to ya Fidds. Nothing. Not while I keep breathing."
Fiddleford reached up and cupped Stanford's face, much like he had done to him, and made Stan's eyes meet his own again.
His smile was a sweet and sad thing.
"We both know you can't really promise that. But I appreciate the thought all the same."
They stared at one another a moment, the silence saying everything.
And then Fiddleford brought down his hand, "I'm going to go take a shower, I need to wash off last night."
"Me too, you go in first. Make sure the water is warm alright?" Said Stan as he let the smaller man up, a small smile on his face now.
"Yeah yeah, I'll save you some hot water." Said Fiddleford with a small laugh.
He left his glasses on the nightstand, he would have placed the medallion with them but he had a feeling Stan would have pitched a fit if he had taken it off. At least gold didn't rust easily.
With a small whistle Fiddleford entered the small bathroom and turned on the water, as it heated up he undressed and gave another yawn. He tested the water, and satisfied that it was adequately warm for the cool, early morning; he stepped inside with a pleased sigh. He closed his eyes and took a bit of time to just enjoy the sensation of the water running down his achy body.
Fiddleford didn't even react when he heard Stan walk in; Stan gave a grunt as he walked past, towards the toilet. He looked over at the shower as he started taking a leak. When he had finished and washed his hands Stan asked, "Water feel nice?"
"Oh yes." Said Fiddleford dreamily, still having not moved.
"Good." Said Stan, and was suddenly right next to him.
And was as naked as he was.
Fiddleford opened his eyes in surprise just as Stan maneuvered him over to the inner shower wall, large hands on either side of him. Fiddleford let out a laugh as Stan got close and began to leave kisses on the unbruised side of his chin, Fiddleford put his hands on Stan's chest and then slid them up to encircle his neck.
"You're ridiculous." He said fondly as he enjoyed the attention.
"And you love every bit of it." Answered Stan just as fondly and with a lecherous grin.
Fiddleford moved his head and they began to kiss. As it intensified Stan pressed his body to Fiddleford's, so they were now flush from chest to groin. He ran his hands down the sides of the smaller man's body and griped at his hips, his thumbs rubbing enticing circles there.
Fiddleford felt a small, tight clench of arousal begin in his lower belly. It increased when Stan moved his hands to begin massaging Fiddleford's thighs while starting to slowly grind their flush hips together at the same time. Stan greedily swallowed all of the small whimpers and mewls he drew out of his lover as they continued to kiss.
With a final swipe of tongue on tongue Fiddleford broke away and half gasped half growled "Stop playing games and pick me up!"
"Yes sir." Answered Stan excitedly as he did just that.
In a seamless motion Stan hefted up Fiddleford's legs and the smaller man quickly wrapped them around the other's waist as he was once more pressed up against the wall. Large hands cupped Fiddleford's ass, they squeezed and massaged the surprisingly still ample cheeks appreciatively. Stan increased the thrusting of his hips and began sucking and biting at the most sensitive spots of Fiddleford's neck.
The smaller man let out a hardy moan that hurt his partially bruised face, he could feel his and Stan's erections hardening against each other and it was fantastic. Stan readjusted his grip a bit and Fiddleford suddenly felt thick and calloused fingers dipping into the cleft of his ass. One began to tease the sphincter hidden there and Fiddleford let out a filthy whine.
"N-not without anything!" he demanded.
"Help me out then." Answered Stan with heat into the smaller man's ear.
A little breathless, Fiddleford gazed about the shower as best as he could from his current position. He spotted a square of soap on a built-in shower shelf and reached for it, he managed to grab the bit of soap and leaned back over.
When Stan saw that Fiddleford had managed to grab what he wanted he stopped his hips' movements and said, "Get to it then, and try not to drop it. Because I'm not giving you a chance past this."
His voice was full of need, Fiddleford whimpered as the clench of arousal increased.
With a bit of fumbling-the absence of friction was almost more disorienting as it itself had been- Fiddleford worked up a decent lather and managed to slap most of it where it needed to be. Stanford's fingers got to work only a moment later and the soap dropped from the smaller man's grip, forgotten.
Stan sucked on Fiddleford's earlobe as he worked two fingers inside of his smaller, squirming lover. His gasps and choked moans were music to Stan's own ears. Fiddleford quickly maneuvered his hands over all of the special spots he could reach on Stan's body, the larger man groaned as he felt his arousal rise even higher.
Soon enough they were both ready and Fiddeford groaned as Stan slid himself in, bareback.
The benefits of a longtime, trusted lover.
Stan quickly worked up a steady pace, Fiddleford hung on for dear life. He brought Stan's face down to his own and pulled him into another kiss, they moaned into each other's mouths as they moved together under the hot spray of water.
When the need for air was crucial they separated but rested their foreheads together and puffed air into each other's faces. Stan shifted his angle just a bit and smirked at the noise Fiddleford made in response.
"St-stanford!"
"Oh yeah, sing for me baby. Sing."
"F-faster. I need more! And Faster!"
"Coming right up."
Stan increased his pace, and made sure to go in to the hilt with each thrust. Fiddleford didn't last much longer and was soon going over the edge on both of their stomachs. After a couple more thrusts Stanford lost himself as well, Fiddleford gasped at the feeling of being wetly filled.
He whimpered when Stan tiredly pulled out, he could feel the warm release begin to dribble down his leg along with the water.
"Been a while since we've done that, huh?" Asked Stan with a small laugh as he slowly lowered Fiddleford onto his own shaky legs.
"More than a while." Answered Fiddleford with a smile as he leaned onto the other. "Now I definitely need a shower. A normal one." He joked.
"Coming right up." Said Stan brightly as he bent down and picked up the soap that Fiddleford had dropped.
He didn't say anything as he held it up to view, but the joke was visible enough on his face that Fiddleford groaned and slapped his arm.
"Either get to it or hand it to me, you moron." He said in loving annoyance as Stan chuckled and held him close.
In the end Stan pretty much washed them both, he didn't let Fiddleford get too far away from his hold for more than a second. Even when they were toweling off, he had stayed very close and had even started to dry Fiddleford's hair for him. The smaller man noted he had paid special attention to his neck and the medallion, making sure the bit of protective jewelry was dry and in one piece. .
Fiddleford took the treatment good naturedly for the most part, if he was being perfectly honest with himself he had missed Stan's super touchy, cuddly treatment. It made him feel appreciated and loved- like everything else Stanford did for him. All the same he let out a huff as he was helped with putting on some boxers, escorted back to the bed, and then lifted on to it.
"Stanford really!" he said finally, fondly exasperated.
"What?" Asked Stan with fake innocence as he sat down on the bed, back against pillows and headboard, and placed Fiddleford snugly into his lap. Arms keeping him in place.
"Really now, I'm not going to run away." He said as he cuddled in close.
"Even if you did you wouldn't get very far." Answered Stan with a cheeky grin.
Fiddleford rolled his eyes as he tried not to laugh.
"I hope Stanley had an okay night in the lab." He said after a nice, quiet moment.
"Ah I'm sure he was alright. Man used to live in there. One more night won't kill him, and we did try to get him out of there."
Though Stan's words sounded ambivalent there was an excited and fond quality to them, Fiddleford smiled at him.
"Happy he's back, huh?" He asked softly.
Stan suddenly sniffed, "Y-yeah."
Stan still hadn't put on his glasses, so it was easy for Fiddleford to reach forward and wipe away the beginnings of tears at the corners of the larger man's eyes. This went on for a bit before Stan got a hold of himself.
He gave a small laugh and caught one of Fiddleford's hands, he then kissed the palm. He looked at him a moment and then said,
"One of these days I'm going to hold you down and tattoo that symbol on you. Ya fought me on it when we were younger and I still regret not just knocking you out and marking ya like I had wanted to. I'm sure Stanley would agree with me; I care about you too much to just leave ya with that necklace Fidds."
Fiddleford couldn't help tensing at the mention of the age old argument, he had expected its return. Fiddleford did not and had not liked the idea of the pain he would have to endure while getting the symbol inked on his body, but…
"Alright Stanford. When all of this excitement is over today, we can set it up. Things are going to get serious and all of us should be prepared."
Even if he didn't understand it, Fiddleford knew that the sigil worked. And for now that was good enough.
For now, that was good enough.
The smaller man grunted when Stan suddenly held him all the tighter, "Really?! Oh yes. Thank you Fiddleford! Stanley can do it! He's got the steadier hand for that stuff anyway, he'll ink ya up nice and neat."
Stan suddenly had a smile that was so cheerful and wide it reminded Fiddleford of Mabel, he smiled in turn.
"Speaking of Stanley, he should be up by now. If we are, anyway. And I know Mabel and Dipper will be running around soon, if they aren't already. We should get them ready to meet."
Stan's smile dimmed a bit, but it remained on his face as he nodded in agreement.
"Heh. I guess you're right .I'll- I'll handle the kids. Get them all relaxed. I should be the one to ease them into it, it's only right. Think you can handle getting Stanley into some old clothes and presentable?"
"I think I can manage it." Answered Fiddleford.
When they finally got up properly Fiddleford put on his dress shirt, favorite tweed jacket and his slacks, but staved off putting on the rest of his usual attire. He wanted to be comfortable today. He wiggled his toes a bit and decided on a lack of footwear as well, it was that kind of day.
Stan proceeded to throw on his usual short sleeve with his boxers, glasses and fez, but today he also slipped into a robe. Though he didn't close it, defeating the purpose of the garment really. Together they pulled out some old clothes Stan had stuffed into the very back of his closet.
With a final kiss they separated, Fiddleford to the lab and Stan to find his grand kids.
As Stan entertained Dipper and Mabel with some breakfast and some illegal fireworks Fiddleford found himself whistling as he made his way down to the lab. Things seemed to be working out. He hoped the streak continued.
The little smile that had been playing on his face died when the elevator doors opened.
The machines were on.
The portal was on.
And someone was laughing.
Fiddleford ran forward, he could see that the countdown toward meltdown display they had installed so long ago was on as well. They were hours from destruction.
Like he didn't already know that.
He ran toward the doorway to the main floor and stopped in his tracks at what he saw. Gideon Gleeful was there, standing over the prone form of one Stanley Pines. He was laughing a mad man's laugh, a deep disconnected chortle that sounded just awful coming out of a child's mouth.
Fiddleford knew the laugh well, he used to do it.
"Git away from there!" He yelled in his singular twang as he got down to the main floor.
Gideon turned to him in surprise, but after seeing who it was he simply laughed again, though this time it was a more mocking, human sounding laughter; with a razor edge to it.
"My, my. It's the homeless hillbilly, come to the rescue have we? And where is your *snicker* canoodling buddy? Where is Stanford Pines?"
Fiddleford felt his cheeks burn; he didn't have to ask where the boy got his information. He could practically smell the stench of dream demon on him. The sudden warmth from the medallion only confirmed his suspicions.
And from the look in the small boy's eyes he had a good feeling which demon had sent him there.
"Sorry, but Stanford's a little busy as the moment. You're just gonna have to be content with me."
"Bring it on then old man."
Gideon's Taser still had a good amount of charge left.
Stanford would wonder where Fiddlford and his brother were, up until and past when the FBI surprised them all and brought him in for stealing some very much needed gallons of nuclear waste the earlier week.
How could things fall apart so quickly in a single Saturday morning?