Archive of Our Own ^beta

He had everything set up for the perfect date. Dipper had spent weeks preparing for it; mapping out the scenic route to their destination, allowing for the two a romantic, leisurely walk through the lovely, rustic backwoods of Gravity Falls. He carefully avoided all dangerous traps and pitfalls along the way, to reduce injury, exhaustion, and even simply, mild inconvenience. His backpack sagged with the weight of all the necessities needed for a hike, including anything that might go wrong, on the off chance that his carefully planned route brought any sorts of obstacles. And his sister had lent him her picnic basket, which he was carefully arranging the food and drinks in. French bread, smoked turkey slices, Havarti cheese, sliced watermelon, green grapes, baked potato chips, bottled water, Pitt Cola (for him), sparkling Grape Juice (for his boyfriend)--Yes, yes, everything was there, and carefully laid out. Dipper placed the tartan blanket on top, and closed the lid, fastening it shut. Now everything was ready.

All that was left was to wait for his boyfriend, Wirt, to arrive. 

To busy himself, and not stress about the what if’s--like, What if the bus is running late due to traffic? or, What if there’s been a terrible accident, and his boyfriend and brother are stranded? or, What if Wirt just doesn’t like you anymore, and decided not to fly out to Gravity Falls to come see-- Yeah, stuff like that! To busy himself from those kinds of intrusive thoughts, he carried the basket and backpack down into the living room, where his family was currently watching TV.

“Jeez Dipper, sure you got enough stuff for your picnic? Want to see if you can pack my butler in there as well?” Pacifica teased, her head currently laying on Mabel’s--his sister’s--lap. Mabel was stroking Pacifica’s short, pixie blonde hair. With her mouth in a half quirked grin, and her eyes half lidded, in this position, Pacifica looked like a lazy, spoiled cat.

Dipper rolled his eyes. It was strange, to think this once rich, pompous, brat of a girl, would not only be dating his sister, but also be one of his best friends. Even her sarcasm had grown on him. “Thanks Paz, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“She’s right though Dip-n-Dots,” Mabel chimed in, “That’s a whole lot of stuff for one picnic in the woods. You’re not planning to camp out are you?” She halted her hair playing, much to Pacifica’s protests. Mabel narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, trying to read his facial cues, his body language. Then she smiled smugly, like she had it all figured out.

Despite the fact that he had done nothing wrong, and was definitely not going to do what she thought he was, he still felt the hot wash of embarrassment crawling up his face, as if his intentions had been anything but pure. “No! We’re not camping out. We’re just going on a picnic! A normal, nice, romantic picnic.”

Mabel and Pacifica looked at each other in disbelief, before turning back to him.

“You’re lying,” his sister said.

“Totally lying,” Pacifica agreed.

Mabel returned to petting Pacifica’s hair, as if that was that.

“I hope you packed condoms, Kid!” Stan piped up, finally taking his eyes off the screen to address his nephew.

Dipper didn’t need a mirror to know his face was bright red. “Grunkle Stan! I’m not-- we’re not--He would never-- We’re too young!” He sputtered.

Stan rolled his eyes, “Please kid, don’t try and feed me that crap. You’re 16-- almost 17-- and full of hormones-- and didn't your boyfriend just turn 18? He's probably even more repressed because he’s been waiting on you. Even though I have no clue what you see in him, you’re clearly smitten with the geek, and he clearly likes you too. The tension in the room is so bad, it makes me want to get the hose. And really? Too young? Like I wasn’t horny, and getting in trouble at your age.”

The thought of their great uncle in any kind of intimate relationship made the twins-- and Pacifica-- gag, so at least there was still some comradery there.

“You guys are so gross. Is it really so hard to believe that I just want to have a normal date with my boyfriend, with no ulterior motives? Do you guys really think that I’m hiding something from you?”

Great Uncle Ford walked into the living room at that moment, holding a bowl of popcorn. “Don’t forget the bug spray while you’re out, Dipper. Also the magical pest spray; It’ll come in handy on your afternoon outing.”

Dipper sighed in relief. Count on his Great Uncle Ford to draw their attention away from topics like that. “See, at least one of you has the decency to give me actual, helpful advice. Thank you, Great Uncle Ford.”

“Oh course Dipper. Bug bites, and Pixie bites, are no laughing matter. They are nasty things. You certainly don’t want them anywhere near your privates---”

Well, all hope was lost. “GREAT UNCLE FORD!” Dipper screamed, hiding his head in his hands as the family cackled at his misery. Great Uncle Ford was the only other one to not jump in, looking around in confusion.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Pixies can cause horrible rashes, and swelling to the testi--”

Dipper threw his hands up in distress, “Alright, listen up everyone! I’m only going to say this once. Wirt and I are going on a hike, to the fairy fountains, where we’ll have lunch, and talk about school and other things. We’ll be back later this evening. We are not going to be doing anything raunchy-- or illegal, while on our date. So no more sexual innuendos, because he’s going to be here soon, and if one of you makes a dirty joke in front of him, I will kill you.”

The family rolled their eyes at his dramatics. Wendy, who was an official part of the Pines family, despite not being blood related, looked up from her magazine, and said, “Honestly, maybe you do need to get laid if you’re this uptight.”

The family burst into laughter once more, all except Dipper, who was starting to question what he ever once saw in his red headed friend, and Ford, who was still looking at the family, not in on the joke. 

Soos, who had been sitting on the floor, stood, and strode over to Dipper, patting the teen’s shoulder. “We’re just messing Dood. Listen, you know we love you, and we just want to make sure you have a good time, and relax, okay? Wirt’s not even here yet, and you’re stressin’ out. You always get so in your head, trying to make everything perfect, but you just gotta be yourself. Wirt likes you because you’re funny and awkward, just like him. So just laugh, and have fun. It’s all in good fun. You know we only tease you because we care.”

Dipper looked at Soos, his big brother figure, and another of his close friends, a small smile finally gracing his lips. “Thanks Soos. I know, I know. I love you assholes too.” He hugged the handyman, who patted his back in two hearty thumps.

Mabel leaned over, and said, in an attempt to make amends, “And hey, you think that’s bad, you should hear some of the stuff Grunkle Stan says to me when I go over to Pacifica’s house.”

Pacifica looked up at her girlfriend, frowning. “What does he say?” She glared at Stan. “What do you say about me?”

Stan took a sip of his Pitt Cola, so he wouldn't have to answer.

The room filled with laughter again, Dipper finally joining in, and suddenly he felt a little better about the whole thing. He admitted, when he was younger, the constant teasing, and jokes had gotten under his skin. But as he got older, and began to see some of the mockery evenly distributed throughout the family, it became a little easier to breathe; to relax, and throw his head back, and join in on the humor. His family was crazy, and weird, and definitely had its fair share of problems, but it was his family, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

That being said, he was really glad to get away from them for awhile, just to be with Wirt. 

From outside, there came the familiar braking of old tires, signaling the tour bus had arrived.

Dipper felt butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach, his mouth struggling to not break into a giddy grin. All he wanted to do was burst through the door, and run towards the bus his boyfriend was on, but he didn’t want to look desperate in front of his family, who were already finding ways to humiliate him today. So instead, he took a shaky breath to calm himself, straightened his back, and marched towards the door at a stilted, but average pace.

He could hear the sound of shuffling and giggling behind him. He groaned, knowing his family was coming to witness his displays of awkward excitement. Well, he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

He opened the door, and stepped out, putting on all the bravado he could fake. 

At first, he only saw the excited, ignorant grins of unfamiliar tourists leaving the bus. He tried to mask his disappointment with each new person that wasn’t his boyfriend. Judging by the way Stan was rubbing his hands together, dollar signs in his eyes, at least one of them was happy for the fresh faces. 

Then, he saw them. The first one to skip down was a young boy in middle school, wearing green overalls, and a white t-shirt, his fingers and knees covered in green bandages, his pet frog hiding in the chest pocket of his overalls. His brown hair stuck up in all directions, and his smile was infectiously bright and friendly, as always. “Hello Gravity Falls, it’s good to be back!” Greg chirped upon stepping off the bus. Followed closely behind Greg, was his older brother, and Dipper’s boyfriend, Wirt.

Wirt looked handsome in his brown slacks, and dark gray, short sleeved-button up, his yellow jumper wrapped around his waist. His sienna hair was tousled by the wind, as if he had the window down on the whole ride up. He stared at his brother in humbled amusement, before his eyes shifted to the Mystery Shack, landing on Dipper on the porch. His expression turned to one of nervous joy, his lips curling into a shy smile, his cheeks blossoming pink.

Dipper forgot all about his promise to keep calm. As soon as he met Wirt’s eyes, as soon as Wirt smiled at him, he melted, turning into the flustered, lovesick fool that he was around the boy. “Wirt!” He yelled, running down the stairs at full velocity. It had only been two weeks since they last saw each other, but even being apart that long felt like an eternity.

Wirt barely had time to set his suitcase down, before Dipper had jumped into his arms, and wrapped himself around the taller boy. Wirt wheezed at the sudden force, and added weight, struggling to hold the two of them up. “Di-Dipper! H-Hi! It’s good to see you too!” He half laughed-half wheezed.

“Awww, how come you let him jump into your arms, but not me?” Greg pouted, hands on his hips.

“Because I can’t carry you anymore,” Wirt huffed. “I’m already struggling to carry him,” he added, shifting his arms under Dipper’s bottom to keep the younger teen supported. 

“‘M sorry, I just missed you,” Dipper mumbled in the crook of Wirt’s neck, continuing to nuzzle him. Despite Wirt’s claims that carrying him was difficult, he refused to let go.

Wirt let out another huff of annoyance, this one directed at his boyfriend, though in all honesty, it was more for show. He kind of enjoyed the attention, embarrassing as it was--what with everyone looking at them, and cooing.

Greg chuckled, and shook his head, “I’m just kiddin’ o’ brother of mine. I know he missed you. Besides, I already got someone who can still carry me--”

Dipper kept worrying that his family would say something, make some kind of scathing remark about his clear lack of control. If not Stan, or Wendy, then definitely his sister would--

Just then, a shrill “Greggggggg!” was shouted from the direction of the mystery shack.

“Speak of the devil,” Greg managed to say, right before he was swooped up into Mabel Pines’s arms.

“Ohhhhh Greg! It’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you sooooo much!” Mabel squealed, pressing her cheek against Greg’s. 

“It’s only been 2 weeks, Mabel,” Greg giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck.

“But two weeks is so long without my favorite arts and crafts buddy,” she whined, nuzzling his pudgy cheek.

“I thought I was your favorite arts and crafts buddy,” Pacifica huffed, having made her way over to the others. She crossed her arms, glaring at the two, though lacked any real heat behind it.

Mabel laughed at her girlfriend’s fake irritation. “Oh Paz, you’re my favorite lots of things, but let’s face it, you suck at arts and crafts!”

Pacifica shrugged. “Fine. Fair enough. You win this round, gremlin.” She said, using her strangely endearing nickname for the young boy. She reached out and tousled his already crazy hair. Wirt at first had been hesitant about the nickname, but when he realized she hadn’t meant it to be mean, and his brother seemed to like it enough, he conceded. 

“Dipper, I’m really happy to see you, and you know that I would love more than anything to keep holding you in my arms, but my legs are honestly going to give out in a couple of seconds,” Wirt once more tried to persuade his boyfriend to let go. Dipper seemed to only tighten his hold.

Hearing his cry for help, Pacifica turned towards Wirt, and said, rather loudly, “Alright Pines, time to stop climbing your boyfriend in public daylight. The tourist came for the Mystery Shack, not the Love Shack!”

Damn, he completely forgot about Pacifica. If not Stan, or Wendy, or his sister, then Pacifica would 100% pick up the slack.

Dipper dropped out of Wirt’s arms, pulling away with a blush, and resigned resignation. He peeked at Wirt, worried the other had clued in on her less than innocent joke, and while Wirt’s cheeks were flushed, Dipper felt that was more from the exhaustion of holding him up, then Pacifica’s comment. He snapped his attention back to Pacifica, and glared, sticking out his tongue at her.

“Oh hush, If I didn’t stop you, you know your Grunkle Stan would have just gotten the hose,” Pacifica explained. Honestly, she liked Dipper, but there were times when his petty, childish rivalry would resurface.

“She’s right. If you scared off my customers, I would have sprayed you down, and then made you stay all day, cleaning the shop in retribution,” Stan said, and now the entire Pines family, including Wendy and Soos, were beside them.

Soos pointed to the group, “Well, much as I want to stay and chat, I gotta get this tour started. They’re expecting great things, you know? Wirt, nice to see you again dood. Dipper’s thrilled that you’re here. I’ll catch up with you guys later tonight.” He gave the two a wink, a wave, and then off he went, rounding up the tourists.

Dipper put his head in his hand, trying to fight the blush that his family was seriously testing his limits over.

“Welp, I had more things I wanted to say to make you two uncomfortable, but the call of money is my first love, so you got lucky. But come tomorrow, I’ll make you wish you never got off that bus--” Stan warned, his finger pressed none to lightly against Wirt’s chest. Wirt stared back at Stan, lips tight, and nodded in uncomfortable compliancy. 

Stan turned, his pointer finger now at Greg, “--Oh, and, nice to see you too, squirt.” His expression was a lot kinder, and he even ruffled Greg’s hair once, before departing after Soos.

“Why do I always feel like your Great Uncle is judging me?” Wirt whispered, still afraid that the old guy could hear what he was saying. “He’s never mean to Greg, but he’s always picking on me.”

“It’s cause he likes me,” Greg said, pressing an index finger to his free cheek.

Wirt frowned, addressing the teens, “You don’t think he actually hates me, do you?”

Mabel laughed, “No way. You’re fine Wirt. He’s just really protective of me and Dipper, and ever since Dipper came out as Bi, he’s been giving any guys our age a hard time.”

“Plus, you’re dating his grand nephew, dude. Of course he’s going to try and intimidate you. That’s his way of making sure you’re good enough for our Little Dipper,” Wendy said, jumping into the conversation. With a powerful swing of her arm, she yanked Dipper into a headlock. Knocking his hat off, and ignoring his protests, she brutally noogied his head. He squirmed and complained, fighting her the whole time, but she wasn’t a lumberjack’s daughter for nothing.

Wirt turned his attention to Pacifica, “Then how come he doesn’t intimidate you?”

Pacifica scoffed, “It’s ‘cause I’m a rich bitch, and he wants to get in my good graces.”

Wirt chuckled weakly at that. Fair enough, he thought. He turned back to his boyfriend who was still attempting to fight off the red head.

Wendy lifted her head, attention drawn to the poet. “It’s good to see you again. We gotta make sure to sit down, and catch up sometime. Don’t let this one hog all your time, though I’m sure you wouldn’t mind that,” she snickered, finally releasing Dipper. He stumbled back, dazed, rubbing his bruised head.

Wirt smiled nervously, giving her an awkward half-bow, “I’ll make sure we have some time to hang out. It’s good to see you too, Wendy. You’re as spunky as the last time I saw you.”

Wendy puffed out her chest, “You’re damn right I am. And now that I’ve gotten you to accept an invitation to hang out-- which by the way, I will be collecting on-- it’s my cue to leave, before I get roped into gift shop duties. Later dudes!” She took off for the parking lot before anyone could stop her. It was likely that Thompson and the gang were parked out, waiting on her arrival. She was, as usual, shirking responsibilities, and looking cool while doing it.

Great Uncle Ford stepped towards the group, pressing a can of magic spray into Dipper’s hands. “Again, this might come in handy on your outing. I would advise you to use it, in general,” he said, smiling at his nephew. When his eyes met Wirt’s, his smile fell, the sun’s glare reflecting off his glasses, shielding his eyes from the older boy. He turned, his coat fluttering behind him, and made his way back towards the house.

“Okay, I really think your Great Uncle Ford hates me.” Wirt gulped, as he watched the second uncle depart. If Stan was intimidating, than Ford was downright terrifying. He didn’t doubt that the men could, and would, beat him up, should he ever hurt Dipper-- Not that he ever planned too . The problem was, he didn’t know who would be worse. It was something he didn’t want to know the answer to. 

“Again, overprotective,” Mabel tried to insist, though she had to silently agree that Ford was extra intense when it came to Wirt. She imagined it had something to do with Ford’s fondness for Dipper, and how he saw himself, and a little of Stan, in her brother. 

“Speaking of overprotective people,” Dipper cut in, giving his sister a pointed look.

She rolled her eyes, “Alright, alright! Wirt, this has been fun, and we certainly will be seeing more of each other. But Dipper has something planned for the two of you, so while me and Pacifica kidnap your brother--”

“Yay, Kidnapping!” Greg cheered.

“--We’re not kidnapping him, Mabel,” Pacifica argued.

“--Greg, no. You don’t want to be kidnapped--” Wirt reprimanded.

“--WE’LL be taking Greg off your hands, so that you and Dipper can enjoy a nice afternoon together, which I hope Dipper already clued you in on. Cause if not, whoops, surprise!” Mabel finished.

“Oh, yes, Dipper mentioned something about wanting to take me on a picnic when I got here. I’ve been looking forward to it the whole ride up.” Wirt said, a loving expression on his face. He couldn’t begin to explain how flattered he was by his boyfriend’s romantic gestures.

Dipper felt his blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears, and quickly looked down at his scuffed sneakers to hide his embarrassment from the other.

“Well, I’ll let you two get on with your date. Greg, you’re coming to hang out with the cool peeps!” Mabel winked.

“Yay!” Greg pumped his arms into the air. He loved spending time with his brother, and he would never admit it out loud, but listening to Wirt wax poetry about longing, and heart sickness on the bus, for nearly two hours, and Greg began to think a little time apart might be nice.

Mabel looked back at her girlfriend. “Pacifica, will you get Wirt’s bags, and help me bring them in?”

Pacifica released a long suffering sigh, “I date Mabel Pines, and look at me. I’m carrying luggage like a commoner!” When Mabel gave her the stare, she smiled innocently, leaning over to press a kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek. It instantly won Mabel over, her glare falling away to giggles. Bending down, Pacifica picked up the suitcases, and gave Dipper a ‘You owe me’ look, following after Mabel, who was already halfway across the field.

And now it was just them. Together. Finally .

“Hi,” Dipper said, all his confidence from earlier dropping to a pool at his feet. 

“Hi,” Wirt returned, just as shy, just as nervous, just as hopelessly in love.

“I found this really nice spot I wanted to take you to,” Dipper began, before trailing off.

“That sounds lovely, I’m ready when you are,” Wirt encouraged, pushing Dipper to continue. 

Dipper looked up at the boy who took his breath away. The boy who made him feel stressed, and anxious, but safe, and loved, and wanted, all in the same breath. The boy who waxed sappy poetry, and played clarinet when his emotions were heightened. The boy who would fumble over words otherwise, and laughed when things were awkward. Whose hands were always a little clammy, fingers a little spindly, but so long, and warm, when intertwined with Dipper’s.

Like right now. 

Dipper looked down at their intertwined fingers, not even realizing Wirt had taken them. He looked up again, eyes widening when he saw how much closer they were to each other, chests touching.

“Hi,” Wirt said. He pressed his forehead against Dipper’s. It was slightly sweaty. Wirt’s blush was just as prominent across his face, as Dipper was sure his own was. 

“H-hi.” Dipper returned. He swallowed, watching Wirt’s coal gray eyes shift over him. “What are you doing?”

“Counting your freckles,” Wirt replied. He tipped his head, their noses brushing. “Wanting to kiss you.”

Dipper felt like he needed to jump back into Wirt’s arms, because his legs were turning to mush. 

“Okay,” he purred, angling his head.

---

The two walked through the foliage, the only light coming from the illuminated mushrooms.

“This is amazing,” Wirt said, staring at the fluorescent blues and greens and pinks of the different mushroom caps. He stretched out his hand, tempted to touch them. At the last moment, he reconsidered, and yanked his hand back. “These aren’t poisonous are they?”

Dipper chuckled, plucking one of the neon blue mushrooms. “Only if you eat them. I pick them all the time so I can get some late night reading done. They’re like glow sticks, except they last longer than a day after being plucked. Very useful.” He brandished the mushroom like a torch, moving through the foliage; they were getting close to the fountains. 

Hearing that they were safe-- at least to touch, Wirt plucked a neon red mushroom, holding it close to his chest, admiring it’s glow.

So far the date was going better than Dipper could have dreamed. They took a lovely hike through a clearing, where Wirt spotted a deer and her baby, nibbling in the fields. They stopped for a moment, sipping water, while Wirt waxed poetry about nature and the fragility of life. Dipper leaned on his boyfriend’s arm, hanging to his every word. Once the deer had spotted them, she took a moment, watching them, before she and her baby leaped back into the safety of the woods. 

The boys continued on after that, entering a moss covered hillside. Thankfully someone-- Dipper wasn’t sure who-- had built stone steps into the hill, making the ascent much more relaxing than it would have been if they had to scramble up the mossy terrain. Well, Dipper might have been okay, even found it a bit of a challenge, but he knows Wirt would have struggled, and become irritated, so this was the preferred alternative. They climbed the steps, Wirt gazing at the weeping willow trees around them, their branches hanging like curtains over the couple. It smelled wet, and musky, but there was an earthy charm to it all. Dipper became so fascinated by Wirt’s every awing expression, that he slipped on one of the mossy steps, pitching forward. Wirt had just enough time to turn, and grab him, securing him from a potentially dangerous fall.

“Sorry,” Dipper apologized, heat gathering in his cheeks. He couldn’t believe he was being so careless, in a place that he would claim to be an expert in.

“Usually I’m the one that’s tripping over myself,” Wirt chuckled, more than a little smug. Before Dipper could argue though, he had pressed his lips to Dipper’s mouth, silencing any possible protest.

Pulling away, he helped Dipper to his feet, took Dipper’s hand in his, and began climbing the stairs again, Dipper following behind like an obedient puppy.

When they’d reached the top, the two wandered out of the trees, onto a hilltop, overlooking acres of cedar, and pine. Dipper had set the basket down, and took off his backpack, placing it beside the basket. He pointed to a speck in the distance, “Look, you can see the town from up here.”

“Let me see,” Wirt said, coming up behind Dipper. He wrapped his arms around the shorter teen’s waist.

The wind whipped up around them; Dipper took his hat off, letting his curls flutter against the breeze. He looked up, studying his boyfriend. Wirt had his eyes closed, a contented smile on his face, his hair whipping back and forth. Sensing eyes on him, the poet opened his eyes, and looked down. 

“This is really nice. Thank you for this,” Wirt said, giving Dipper’s hips a squeeze. Dipper giggled, moving his hands to interlock with Wirt’s again.

“We’re not even there yet,” he chaffed.

“And every moment, 

As the anticipation lingers,

I find myself in your mercy,

In the curve of your lips, and the bends of your fingers.” Wirt replied.

Dipper leaned his head against Wirt’s chest, his eyes slipping closed. “Mmmm~ Now that’s really nice." He could have stayed like this for a long time; there was even a second, where he considered having the picnic up here. But he wanted to follow up on his plan, knowing the the fairy fountain would be even more magical, more worthwhile.

With reluctance, he disentangled himself from Wirt’s arms, and picked up the basket and backpack again. “Come on,” he coaxed, “we’re nearly there.” He motioned Wirt to follow, and the two were off once more.

They eventually came to an alcove, moss hanging over the opening, obstructing the view at a cursory glance. Dipper had pulled back the mossy curtain, and Wirt had ducked under it, climbing through the alcove, Dipper shortly behind.

And that’s how they ended up in the Mushroom undergrowth.

Dipper could see the small opening of the fountains in the distance, disguised as a large hole in a 50-foot weeping willow’s trunk. “There,” he pointed to the hole, and picked up his pace. Wirt followed diligently behind.

“After you,” Dipper took Wirt’s hand, helping his boyfriend to climb into the hole. 

Wirt refused to let go of his hand. “Let’s go together,” he purred, pulling Dipper into the hole with him. He wrapped one hand around Dipper’s waist, helping to balance the boy, so they didn’t tumble down into the darkness. 

Back on stable ground, the two walked hand in hand through the dark cavern, the neon glow of the mushrooms lighting their way. After a few minutes of walking-- the only sound the crunch of their shoes on leaves-- there came a sparkling in the distance, and the soft babbling of water reached their ears. The two moved forward, and that small sparkling grew and grew, until it had become a rooted staircase, leading up to the exit. The staircase was narrow, so Dipper went first, his hand still nestled in Wirt’s, as he lead the other teen up into the fairy fountain.

“Wow,” Wirt stopped dead, eyes widening as he took in the cavern.

The walls were 10 feet high, made of sparkling blue crystal. Amethyst and Sapphire clusters hung from the ceilings, like chandeliers. The floor was blue and white marble, resembling seafoam. When Dipper pulled Wirt onto the marble, it rippled, almost like water, though the ground was solid under his feet. Wirt could hear the soft, gentle strumming of a harp, somewhere in the background, even though, no matter which way he looked, he couldn’t locate the stringed instrument anywhere.

And there, right in the middle of the cavern, was a large crystal fountain. From the first crystalline bowl, purple water fell like raindrops into the second basin; from the second, seafoam green waterfalled into the third, and from the final basin, clear blue water poured into the drains below the fountain. The three drains segmented off into 3 separate brooks; one purple, one green, and one blue. The streams lead toward three statues in the corners of the room. They were each a sculpture of a fairy, poised elegantly, as she was pouring a jug of the color specific water into her pool below.

“I can’t believe this place exists,” Wirt exclaimed, taking a couple more steps in, getting a full view of the area. The marble rippled under each step. He twisted back around, “How did you find this place?” 

“It was one of the places marked in Journal 2. I thought this would be a nice spot to have a picnic, so last week, I went on this hike to the fountains to make sure it was just as nice as it sounded. To my surprise, it was even more enchanting than I could have believed. I was hoping you’d like it.” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the blush that was trying to make an appearance.

“Dipper, it’s breathtaking. It’s like something in a dream, only it’s real, and you’re here with me, so it’s even better.”

Now Dipper couldn’t help but blush, preening at his boyfriend’s compliments. Mentally, he high fived himself, thankful that for once, everything was falling into place perfectly.

He took charge again. “Let’s set up near the big fountain. I think that will be the best spot to eat lunch.” He walked over, linking his arm in Wirt’s, and gently tugged his snickering boyfriend along.

“What a gentlemen,” Wirt swooned, flinging the back of his palm over his forehead, before bursting into more peals of laughter.

“I gotta make an impression. There’s this really cute boy that I’m trying to get the attention of,” Dipper said, playing along.

“Oh, you already have, you already have. I don’t think this boy could stop thinking about you if he tried,” Wirt dropped the act, allowing a sweet, tender moment to bloom between them.

They set up their picnic; Dipper unrolling the blanket, Wirt pulling out the food and drinks. Dipper grabbed a can of Pitt Cola, and cracked the top, taking a swig. Wirt popped the cork of his sparkling grape juice, holding it away so it wouldn’t fizz up in his face. They sat next to each other, taking in the beautiful, whimsical view.

“So why is this called the fairy fountains?” Wirt finally asked, as the question had been on his mind ever since Dipper’s surprise.

“OH!” Dipper laughed, “It’s because sometimes the fairies will come and play in the fountains. It’s said that they’ll even bring good luck to people who find the fountains. I thought that would be a nice little bonus. And even if they don’t come, it’s still a beautiful, peaceful place for a date. Honestly, this might be the safest place in Gravity Falls I’ve ever been.” Now that was a relief.

There came a sound in the air, very similar to that of a bell, or that of wind chimes. “Hey, I think that’s them,” Dipper elbowed Wirt, and the two looked up into the sky, as tiny, twinkling lights floated down towards them.

As they got closer, Dipper could see pointed ears, wild, bright hair, long limbs, clothed in somewhat minimal leaf clothing, and pointy, paper thin wings fluttering rapidly. Dipper hmm-ed in confusion; he could have sworn the journal had said that a fairy’s wings were similar to butterfly wings. He also could have sworn that they had elegant silkworm threads, and their hair was stylized, but immaculate. These fairies looked like they had just rolled out of bed, and thrown on whatever. 

And something about their pincher-like hands, and jagged smiles made Dipper uneasy.

They came closer, dancing around the fountain, in pairs of two. They spun, and twirled, and tittered, mischievously. 

“Oh wow, they’re amazing!” Wirt said, watching in silent fascination as the ‘fairies’ danced.

What followed was a buzzing sound. At least, that’s what it sounded like at first. But as the little winged creatures embraced each other, the buzzing got louder, and louder. And suddenly, it didn’t sound like buzzing anymore. In fact, the sound was very similar to the sound that Dipper listened to on his laptop, with his headphones in, under the covers, and his door locked and barricaded, at one in the morning. It was a sound that made him squirm, and yank at the collar of his shirt, eyes skittering from the screen to his lap, to the door to make sure it was still locked, and repeat. It was a sound that mixed shame, desire, and fear into a horrible, hormonal concoction.

“Um...what are they doing?” Wirt balked, and judging by the wide eyed look, and the way his cheeks were beginning to burn, Dipper assumed that Wirt was familiar with the sounds himself.

That's when the ‘fairies’ began to undress.

“Oh dear God!”

---

When Mabel, Greg, and Pacifica came down from putting Wirt and Greg’s things away, they walked into the living room to find Great Uncle Ford sitting in Grunkle Stan’s favorite chair, pouring over one of the journals.

“What’s up, Great Uncle Ford?” Mabel asked, pulling her uncle from his deep concentration.

“Huh? Oh! Hello, Mabel, Pacifica...Little one,” He said, addressing the three. He looked back at the journal still open in his lap. “Remember when I gave your brother that can of magic spray?”

Pacifica answered instead, “Yeah, you seemed weirdly adamant about him taking it with him. Are fairies that much of a problem?”

“If they’re anything like unicorns, then those two are definitely gonna need something to ward them off,” Mabel grumbled, remembering those horse assholes well.

“Well no, Fairies are actually pretty kind, helpful creatures, who offer luck and good fortune to anyone they come across. They’re a little too optimistic for my taste, but someone like you, Mabel, would practically eat them up. But for some reason, I keep having this feeling that something is supposed to be happening today. Something about the fountains.”

“Like what?” Mabel asked, sitting on the floor. Greg sat in her lap, and Pacifica draped herself across the couch, all of them curiously wondering-- well, maybe not Pacifica so much -- what Ford was trying to figure out.

“Something about it being a specific time of year at the fountains. I keep getting this weird feeling like Dipper and his boyfriend are in a conundrum.”

“Like danger?” Mabel asked, squirming in her seat, raring to fight. If they needed backup, she was going to be there to help.

Ford shook his head, “Not like real danger. I don’t think. Just something about today. I could have sworn I wrote something down about the fountains and this month, and how it was unwise to come at this time of year. But I didn’t write anything about the month on the page about the fairy fountains.”

“Could it be something not related to the fairies?” Pacifica drawled, tossing ideas. 

“Mmmm, well, we can’t think on an empty stomach,” Greg suddenly suggested, peering into his front pocket. “Candy helps keep us energized and focused. Mabel, would you like some candy? I got lemon drops, bubble gum, lollipops, Jangly Rockets, and some Pixie Stixies. Don’t mind if they feel a little warm, Jason Funderburker’s been sitting on top of them, keeping them safe.” His frog poked it’s head out of the pocket, and ribbited.

“Hmmm, that sounds nice. Thank you Greg, I could use some sugar in my system. How about a Pixie Stixies?” Mabel held out her hand, as Greg began looking.

“Hmmm, Pixie Stixies…” Ford mumbled off handedly. He closed journal 2, and reached for journal 3 instead. As he flipped through the pages, he asked, “Hey kid, give me one of those Pixie Stixies. Orange, if you have it. Don’t you dare give me grape.”

---

“Wow, we usually don’t have any voyeurs during this time of the year; and humans too! What a treat! Wait til the others hear about this! They’ll be so jealous.” One of the ‘fairies’ giggled, followed by the rest.

Dipper and Wirt shielded their eyes, afraid to see anymore. Confused about what was happening.

“Hey, don’t be shy boys, it’s alright! We don’t mind,” The same one who spoke earlier said, suddenly way to close for Dipper’s comfort. He felt tiny hands push his own down with surprising strength, and there was the ‘fairy’ who--oh thank god!--was still clothed. Though the way her bralette and skirt hung low made it clear that she was only a loose strap away from being naked like her friends.

“I--I thought Fairies were peaceful, modest creatures! In the book it said they only came to play, and offer luck. This looks more like foreplay to me,” Dipper croaked, wanting the floor to turn into real water, and drown him under it’s waves.

The winged creature laughed, “Of course those little pompous, prestigious fairies would present themselves that way. Too bad we’re not fairies, we’re pixies. And unlike those boring brats, we know how to have real fun!”   

Pixies! " If you guys are pixies, then what are you doing at the Fairy Fountains?” Dipper demanded.

The Pixie put her hands on her hip, huffing, “Just because it’s named after those losers, doesn’t mean that no other creature can inhabit this place. This spot is incredibly popular with fairies, faes, imps, and us Pixies--the water rejuvenates our magic. So we all come here to bathe, and unwind.”

“Is this how pixies unwind?” Wirt squeaked from behind his hands. Another pixie zipped down--male this time-- wearing a flimsy loincloth, and pulled Wirt’s hands apart. Wirt shrieked.

The male pixie chuckled at Wirt’s outburst. “Well, it’s one way to relax. But do you humans seriously not know what month it is?”

The female pixie floated towards her friend, clutching him from behind, her hands rubbing patterns across his bare chest. “I don’t think humans typically know about the mating cycle of Pixies, Jaxter.”

“Mating…” Dipper whimpered.

“Cycle?” Wirt finished, just as distraught by the revelation.

The pixies above them began to laugh, mercilessly. Dipper and Wirt looked up; most of the pixies were lounging in the fountain, bodies covered by the colored water, or the crystal basin. Many of them remained in pairs of two or three, and were closely seated together. Some hadn’t even stopped sucking faces...or necks.

Dipper and Wirt quickly looked away.

“You both look so uncomfortable. It’s kind of cute. What brings you to our little love nest, I wonder. Got any ideas, Pixel?” Jaxter laughed, circling around Wirt. Wirt tried to shoo him away, but to no avail.

Pixel circled Dipper. “I smell attraction in the air, so you two are obviously interested in each other, but I can’t smell a whiff of the tall boy on the short one? Not even a faint, distant one.” She leaned closer, sniffing the nape of Dipper’s neck. Dipper panicked, batting her away.

“Neither can I. Heck...I can’t smell anyone on this boy. Could it be?” Jaxter zipped away, flashing a row of jagged teeth.

“They’re virgins!” Pixel announced, to the cheers of the other pixies.

Dipper and Wirt turned bright red, sputtering weakly at their assertion.

“Awww, it’s kind of romantic. Their first time, at the fairy fountains,” Jaxter cooed, hand on his cheek.

“And right during mating season, now that’s quite a lovely coincidence. Don’t worry boys, you can watch us, we’ll show you how it’s done!”

Dipper shook his head furiously. “No! Absolutely not! We didn’t come here to---we’re not here to---NO! We just wanted to have---I just wanted to have a picnic.”

The pixies stared at him for a long moment. Dipper shrunk under their piercing stares. Then they all burst into cackling madness. A group of pixies splashed water at him.

“Really? Just a picnic? You come to the most romantic spot in all of the woods, just to have a nice, peaceful picnic?” Pixel--who was starting to look like the leader, jeered, clearly in disbelief.

“I don’t see any condoms in his bag, or lube!” One of the pixies cried, poking her head out of Dipper’s backpack, all of the zippers open. Another stuck their head out of another pocket, shaking their head in agreement. Batteries, a flashlight, water bottles, and colored coded pens were lying on the floor around the bag. Dipper scrambled towards the bag, but the pixies flew out, grabbing the pack, and carrying it up with them.

Dipper was mortified to see them going through his things, but also horribly relieved to know that Stan’s suggestion had only been a suggestion, and none of his family had snuck anything that would make this situation worse, into his pack.

“Maybe it’s in the basket?” A pixie from the fountain suggested, pointing at the wicker container.

Pixel zipped into the opening before either boys could stop her. She appeared out of the basket a moment later, carrying one of the sodas. “Nope, just some snacks, drinks, and sweets. Thank you boys, sex really works up an appetite, and it’s important to stay hydrated throughout. I think we’re going to need this more than you.” 

“Hey, stop, those don’t belong to you.” Wirt swiped for the soda, but she dodged out of the way. Her male comrade zipped towards Wirt, blowing a raspberry in his face.

The pixies giggled, and splashed, clearly entertained. 

“I can’t believe you two haven’t had sex yet. I’ve met humans younger than you who are more frisky. Do you even really love each other?” Pixel asked, popping open the lid of her soda can.

Dipper bristled under her words, “Of course I love him! How dare you say that I don’t. Just because I want to wait, doesn’t mean I don’t want him. And besides, some people don’t need to have sex to prove their love.”

Wirt felt touched by his words. Even if only briefly, because they were still surrounded by a bunch of perverted, lust filled pixies, who were currently doing indecent acts in the fountain. The beauty that once was this place, was now tainted by their...well...

Jaxter flitted over to Dipper, flicking his nose. “True. We don’t judge if you’re not inclined to that kind of attraction. We have plenty of pixie pals who didn’t come today because they don’t care about the physical portion of the mating process. But you two reek of desperation and shame. You two clearly have desires and inclinations for it-- you’re just choosing to wait. What I’m smelling is celibacy, not asexuality.”

Dipper deflated under his explanation. He didn’t really have an excuse there. Hearing it out loud hammered in the fact that he was an awkward, and desperate virgin. And everyone present knew it, including his boyfriend.

Pixel passed the can of soda to the others in the fountain. “You two need to relax! Come on, there’s no need to be embarrassed. So you two are virgins, that’s okay! This could be fun-- even educational! You two are here now, during a magical, romantic time for us pixies. Just stay and watch the show; I’m sure by the end of it, you’ll be happily having your own ritual, together.”

It was Wirt’s turn to protest, though his attempt was a lot more passive, “Listen, if this is your mating season, then I don’t want to intrude. It would be impolite for us to try and force you out, when you have clearly been here decades longer. We’ll just leave, so you all can have your privacy. We can come back another-OWW!” Wirt suddenly cried, slapping a hand to the back of his neck. He looked behind him, just in time to see another male pixie pulling away, sniggering. When he realized the pixie was naked, he quickly turned back around, cheeks blazing.

“Hehehehe, are you two so innocent, that you’ve never even had a hickey before?” The pixie behind him asked, floating right near his ear. He bite Wirt’s earlobe, and tugged, none too lightly. Wirt gasped, slapping his ear, but the pixie let go just before getting swatted.  

Dipper was bristling again, though this time out of jealousy, rather than indignation, “Hey, don’t touch him!”

Pixel smirked. “Oh you’re so red. You’re like that character from the book. The little jealousy pixie, Tinkerbell.” She eyed Wirt-- “I guess that makes you Peter Pan.”

The naked pixie who had been teasing Wirt, casually floated backwards towards Dipper. “He certainly taste like a virgin. All salty and sweet. Humans certainly are yummy.”

Dipper swiped the air, trying to catch the pixie, all sense of humility gone. He just wanted to make the thing shut its mouth. But the pixie zipped out of reach, and looped back around. “If you don’t want me biting him, then maybe you’ll let me play with you~” The pixie giggled, sinking his teeth into the nape of Dipper’s neck, right where his hair curled.

“OW! Shit!” Dipper yelped.

“Dipper!” Wirt cried, eyes wide.

The Pixies were in a frenzy. 

Pixel zipped towards Dipper, and pecked him on the nose. He swiped near his face, but she dodged, then bit down on the palm of his hand. Dipper hissed, trying to shake her off. Jaxter laughed at his friend's antics, flying up to knock Dipper’s cap off his head. He grabbed one of Dipper’s curls, and tugged. “How do you like this lover boy? Maybe you’re more into hair pulling!” 

The Pixie behind him continued to nip at his neck, moving slowly up towards his ear. 

Dipper yelped and swiped, all to no avail. They were too fast, and he was beginning to think that there were more than three on him now. He felt tiny stings along his hands, fingers, his neck, and ears. The pixies in the fountain were making those dumb little moaning noises again, clearly getting off on his humiliation. They splashed more water at him, getting his clothes and hair wet.

Wirt lunged, taking hold of Dipper’s wrist. “Knock it off! Leave him alone!” He shouted, trying to tug Dipper away from them.

Suddenly, all three pixies were behind Dipper, pushing him with a force greater than expected. Dipper pitched forward, falling into Wirt’s arms, taking the both of them to the floor.

Wirt hit the marble flooring with a bang, momentarily dazed. When he regained his vision, he saw Dipper on top of him, hands on both sides of Wirt’s head to keep from smacking into him. Dipper’s face was horribly red, his freckles disappearing under the intensity of his blush.

“Now it’s your turn! Go on, Go on!” The Pixies chanted.

“Uh, um-- Oh gosh! I’m-I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Wirt stressed, more worried about his boyfriend’s state than his own.

Dipper’s eyes were filling with tears, but he forced himself not to cry, “I just wanted this date to be nice, and now I’m being pushed around by some pint sized pest. I had everything planned---everything was going perfectly.”

Wirt tutted softly, “Hey, it’s okay. They’re making fun of me too. You’re not alone. We’re together in this.” He put his hand of Dipper’s cheek, gently caressing.

Dipper managed a weak smile, which quickly turned into a grimace when he felt his shirt being pushed up. He whipped his head around, screaming at Jaxter and Pixel, “Would you two knock it off!”

When Wirt felt cool air hit his collarbone, he snapped his attention down. Two pixies, dripping wet, were unbuttoning his shirt. “Hey! Stop that!” He pulled his hand away from Dipper’s face, slamming his palm against his chest. The pixies escaped before he could make contact. “Shit!” He growled, not one to usually let any vulgarity slip. He considered himself above that kind of stuff, but he was certainly running out of patience.

Dipper swallowed, “Um, maybe don’t curse right now?” 

“Huh? What?” He looked up again, noticing that Dipper wasn’t looking him in the eye anymore.

“Ohhh, I think you should curse more. Go ahead, get mad, Peter Pan! Pin your Tinkerbell to the floor, and whisper dirty little secrets into his ear,” The naked pixie's encouraged, tousling Wirt’s hair, their nails scraping the poet’s scalp.

“Ahhhh! Shit!” Wirt hissed, swiping at the pixies. All reservations were gone. He didn’t care if they were naked, if they were hanging nonchalantly in his face, no dignity-- he was sick of these things messing with him and Dipper.

Dipper whined again. Wirt didn’t get that hearing him curse was making him feel strange. He had to get out of this situation before it got worse.

He tried to pull away, but Pixel and Jaxter were holding him down. God, what were these things made of? Titanium?

“Look out below!” They heard from above. They glanced up. The pixies who had stolen his backpack had turned it upside down; all of Dipper’s belongings came tumbling towards them. Wirt shielded his face, Dipper covering his head. Tape, Itching Cream, a blanket, a spare change of clothes, his wallet, a laser pointer, swiss blade (thankfully closed), and many other items fell on top of them, some light, some unnecessarily heavy and painful.

Something metal smacked Dipper’s back. He groaned as the cylinder object rolled off of him, to the right. He glared at the can, before realizing it was the bottle of magic spray.

Oh dear god, thank you Great Uncle Ford! Before the pixies could mess with it, ruining his only chance of escape, his hand shot out, grabbing the canister. He uncapped the top, aiming the spray at the Pixies in Wirt’s hair. “Close your eyes,” he demanded.

Wirt only had a second to comprehend, shutting his eyes, as Dipper sprayed the pixies. The pixies let out a choked squeal, and plummeted to the floor, incapacitated.

“Oxnard! Maxine!” Pixel and Jaxter shouted, letting go of Dipper to check on their friends. Dipper sat up, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Finally!” Dipper held the can close to his chest, never so happy for his uncle’s advice. Now that he wasn’t in that awkward predicament, he felt so much better.

“Dipper…” Wirt whispered, his voice tense.

“Yeah?” Dipper asked, looking at Wirt. Only Wirt wasn’t looking at Dipper. Dipper followed his line of sight.

All the pixies in the fountain were staring at them, ears flat, teeth bared. They made buzzing noises, much like a horde of angry bees.

Jaxter and Pixel floated up, carrying the dizzy Oxnard and Maxine. “Ohhhh, so you want to play rough? We like to play rough.” They gently placed their friends in the fountain, then buzzed, much more aggressively, towards the two teens. Pixel addressed the rest of the pixies in the fountain, “Hey everyone, why don’t we give the humans a real treat?”

Dipper gulped, holding the can out, like it would protect him. He heard the buzzing behind him...and to the right of him...and to the left...and above. He looked all around, the can slipping from his clammy grip. All around them, there were pixies, in varying states of undress. Dipper had thought all of them were in the main fountain, completely forgetting the three fountains in the corner. He had been so distracted with the leader and her friend, that he hadn’t noticed how many of them there were.

“Please, we...we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to hurt them,” Wirt said, trying to ease the tension.

Jaxter laughed, “Oh don’t worry, you didn’t really hurt them. Because we’re here, the fountain will heal them up in no time.”

Wirt sighed in relief, “That’s good to hear--”

Pixel laughed, much more wickedly, “But we still have to punish naughty boys who interrupt out mating ritual, and spray us with icky, noxious spray. You know, cause, as you said it, you’re on our territory.”

Wirt gulped. He inched towards Dipper. Dipper inched towards him.

The buzzing grew louder, mixing with their wicked chattering. Dipper clung to Wirt’s waist. Wirt held onto Dipper’s shoulders.

“Let's show them how we like to play, everybody!”

“AHHHH!!!!”

--

“Hey, they’re back already!” Greg exclaimed, dropping the curtain. He bounced excitedly to the door, Mabel and Pacifica following, checking their watches. They had assumed that the two would be out until late, maybe closer to evening, but it had only been 3 hours; the sun was still in the sky, not even close to setting. Great Uncle Ford stayed near the living room entrance, pushing up his glasses, lips tight.

The door creaked open. Greg stepped forward, “Welcome ho--”

His voice fell away when he saw his brother and Dipper. They had scratches and bug bites all across their face, neck, and arms--and in Dipper’s case, his legs. Their clothes were dripping wet, and shredded around the sleeves, collar, and hem. A sticky, glittery substance was crusted in their hair, making it stand on end. There was also glitter on their clothes and the hairs of their arms. They had wide eyed, mile long stares on their faces, and they were noticeably empty handed.

Pacifica burst out laughing, “Holy shit, did you get in a fight with a glitter monster, or something? Did it win?”

Dipper couldn’t even muster the strength to glare at her.

“Ohhh, you smell like sugar cookies,” Greg commented, reaching out his hand. “What did you put in your hair?”  

“DO. NOT. TOUCH. IT.” Wirt warned.

Greg pulled his hand away.

Dipper looked very pointedly at Mabel.

It was an expression they had practiced together, during times, during emergencies. When things were getting messy or complicated with one of them, and the other wasn’t allowed to ask questions, only--

“Greg, Pacifica, we’re going to the movies!” Mabel suddenly announced.

The two looked at her in confusion.

“What?” Pacifica began.

“Huh?” Greg cocked his head in confusion. 

Mabel was already pushing them towards the door. “Yep, no buts! I just remembered, there's a movie I wanted to show Greg, and if we don’t hurry, we’re going to miss getting good seats.”

“You never mentioned anything about a movie,” Paz protested, but Mabel was much stronger than her.

“Yeah, well now I am! Come on, come on! I want to get popcorn, and snacks! And maybe after, we can go to that place you like to eat, and shop around the square.”

She knew that would get Pacifica. The sound of her favorite restaurant, followed by shopping, even if just window shopping, was too tempting to ignore. “Alright, okay. We’ll go, but you’re explaining this ‘movie’ during the previews.” She scoffed, starting to catch onto the idea that this was just a diversion. She glanced at Dipper once more, committing the image to memory, and then stepped out the door, chuckling to herself.

Greg wasn’t as hard to convince. “Bye, Wirt, I guess I’ll see you later. You should put some cream on those bites, so they don’t get worse. I’ll bring you back something from the store,” He waved, deciding that he was probably being ushered out so Wirt could rest after his ordeal. And it was something that his brother really didn’t want to talk about.

Mabel, before closing the door, gave them a sympathetic look, though her mouth was fighting a smile. “You owe me a new basket, bro bro. And you’re welcome! Wirt, sorry about all this. Hopefully in a year, you’ll think back to this day, and laugh.” She closed the door.

Wirt was certain the only thing he would feel about today was instant regret, and mortification.

Ford stepped towards them, silently handing Dipper a tube of ointment. 

“The spray didn’t help,” Dipper grumbled.

Ford nodded, “I would assume not, considering you were surrounded by probably a thousand of those pixies.”

Dipper’s eyes widened. “Did you know about this?”

“Not until after you left. I had my suspicions, but it wasn’t until I checked journal 3 that I remembered writing down on the Pixie’s page, ‘Don’t go to the Fairy Fountains during the month of June. Mating season, Pixies highly agitated.’ I was hoping maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, that you might come out unscathed but um…” He trailed off, as the two teens glared at him.

“Well, I am going to go see how Stanley, and the handyman are doing. Make sure to take a bath, wash out that glitter, and put that ointment on, before the swelling starts. Again, pixie bites are no laughing matter.” He paused for a moment, “Do you mind if I ask what’s in your hair?”

“No,” Dipper growled.

“Okay…” Ford paused again. “Do you mind if I take a sample--”

“GOODBYE UNCLE FORD!” Dipper snarled, pointing to the door. 

“Right, Right! Goodbye!” He saluted the two, and walked off, but momentarily stopped to give Wirt another scathing look.

“Why?” Wirt muttered, as Dipper’s uncle took his leave. 

Once the two were sure they were alone, they sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I don’t think I can ever go back to that place,” Dipper groaned.

“I feel dirty,” Wirt said, staring at his scratched and glittery arms. 

“It’s not your fault. It’s those stupid, gross pixies. And their stupid gross mating season.”

“At least they only teased us. It could have been far worse.” Wirt sighed, trying to think of the positives, though the outcome was still a bitter pill to swallow.

“How?” Dipper asked, not seeing the bright side as clearly.

“What they were trying to make us do before was much more uncomfortable.”

When Dipper thought about it like that, he had to agree, “That’s true.” His voice sounded a little disheartened.

Wirt picked up on it quickly, “Not because of you Dipper! I wasn’t upset because of you! I just meant it was uncomfortable because they were trying to force us into a compromising position. That wasn’t what we wanted, and we certainly didn’t want any eyes on us either.” He stepped forward, taking Dipper’s hands in his.

Dipper looked at their hands. Even battered, beaten, and ego bruised, it was still nice to hold his boyfriend’s hands. He allowed himself a small smile. “That’s true. The pixies are assholes, but I don’t think they were trying to be intentionally malicious. At least, not until we pissed them off.”

“You mean, you pissed them off.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Please, you were happy to comply.”

Wirt huffed, before breaking into another smile. “Even though the fountains were pretty traumatizing...I don’t regret the trip to it. The hike was really nice, and I got to spend it with you. For awhile, everything was going really great.”

“Everything was nearly perfect,” Dipper pouted, once more reminded how things had started out. “Damn, I don’t want today to end on such a shitty note!”

“It doesn’t have to,” Wirt alluded.

“What do you mean?”

“Do...do you wanna take a bath, together?”

Dipper didn’t think he could blush anymore today, sure he had exhausted all energy to feel bashful. But here he was, feeling the heat in his cheeks once more.

Wirt quickly explained, “I really do just mean a bath! Everything hurts, and honestly, I’m not in any “mood” of any kind, not after the pixies. But I thought, maybe it doesn’t have to end on their terms. I could help you scrub off the glitter, and wash your back. It might be nice, being close on our turns.”

Dipper looked down. “I feel like if I see you naked...I might...I mean...my hormones…” Shit, this was awful.

“Hey it’s okay. I mean, it’s very likely I’ll be hard when I see you.” Dipper gasped, pulling his hands away to cover his face. Wirt chuckled, gently pulling Dipper’s hands back, leaning down to make his boyfriend look at him. He continued, just as gently, “We’re teenagers, it’s normal. Our body’s going to react on it’s own, whether we want it to, or not. Nothing has to happen though, if you don’t want it to. And if things get really uncomfortable, I can get out first.”

Dipper swallowed, looking down at their hands.

“We don’t have to, it was only a suggestion. I don’t want to make you feel unsafe, or uncomfortable. I don’t mind going first, or second, if you’d rather--”

“--N-no! It’s...it’s okay. I’m just...I’m just trying to gather the courage to say yes.” Dipper swallowed again, turning his hands to re-interlock their fingers. “Y-yes, let’s take a bath together.” 

He lifted his eyes, studying Wirt’s expression. The older boy was blushing, a sweet, satiated smile on his face. “If you’re okay with that,” Wirt reiterated.

Dipper nodded, gathering all the bravado he couldn’t fake, “I’m okay with it. I want to get the feel of those stupid pixies off my skin. If I have to feel awkward about hands on my skin...with a mouth on my skin...I’d...I’d rather it be yours.”

Wirt burst out laughing, “Is that your subtle way of asking me to give you a hickey?” He stopped laughing when Dipper didn’t laugh back. “...Oh!”

Dipper quickly stepped forward, pressing his lips to Wirt’s. He pulled away a second later, licking his lips. “I really hate to think that your first hickey was from some random naked pixie dude.”

Wirt laughed again, “I hardly call these hickey. They're more like bug bites to me!” When he saw Dipper’s pouting face, he added, “But I also admit, I’m not very happy that a bunch of stupid, floating gremlins marked you up. I might have to fix that.” 

Dipper shivered. “It might take a bit; they kind of got me all over.”

“Well, I still want to be patient, so maybe just your neck could use some tender loving care. It looks like they got you there the most. I’m still nervous too, you know?”

That was probably the best thing he could have heard. It was nice to know him and Wirt were equal in uncertainty. That they both still wanted to take things slow. He said, a little more confidently, relieved when his voice didn’t shake, “Let’s go get cleaned up, and maybe we’ll make a few, better memories of today.”

Wirt smirked. “And then ointment, and food. Because I don’t doubt your uncle’s words that this will hurt later on. Also, I’m starving!”

Dipper laughed, remembering that they hadn’t gotten to enjoy their picnic. “Okay, yes. Shower, Kissing, Ointment, Food, and More kissing. All in the order.”