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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 13 - Sketch/Ache

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, so close yet so far, 3k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

October already? Looking at the work schedule posted on the wall, Willie ran a hand through his hair. The time really was just passing him by, huh? Another day over, he grabbed his skateboard and strapped on his helmet.

“Hey, Willie?” His manager, Kyle, called after him before he got through the back door.

“Yeah, man?” Willie turned to answer him.

“This Saturday we need some extra hands while we’ve got a group performing. Could you be there?”

“Totally, man,” he said, smiling with assurance before heading out into the street. Los Angeles was fresher than Vegas, at least for him. He loved the breeze from the ocean that swept in every evening and being near the water in general. There was so much more to do, as well, and he didn’t think he’d ever exhaust that list. Just the number of places to skate was constantly growing, without mentioning the rest. Of course, he had been hoping to do some of them with Alex by now, but that was easier said than done. Sunset Curve didn’t seem to be doing too many shows at the moment, and that was all he really had to track him with.

Stopping at an antiquated apartment building, he headed down a stairway into the basement and burst through the door.

“Guess who’s home!” he cried. Sheldon came pattering over with his ever-cheerful prrrp and rubbed against his leg. Kneeling to pet him, Willie chuckled. “Aww, I’m happy to see you, too.”

He immediately went over to the cat’s bowl and poured some food in, listening to Sheldon purr loudly as he ate his dinner. Willie grabbed some food for himself to snack on as he sat at his desk and looked at the unfinished drawing that had been left there early that morning. He’d begun covering his walls in sketches again, and this time he didn’t have to be afraid of everything being torn away. In fact, Willie couldn’t even believe he had convinced himself that his life was fine when staying with Caleb.

Things had changed entirely. Since his brief adventure out in the desert, Willie was fully independent. He owed most of it to Bessie, still, and he thought of that woman every day. She hadn’t left him any way to contact her, otherwise he’d want to send her a thank you card at least once a week. It even overshadowed the fact that he’d actually ridden in a plane with Harrison Ford.

Willie remembered how incredibly short the flight had been in comparison to the rest of his journey. Bessie had donated an old cat carrier that they strapped into the cabin for Sheldon while Willie joined Harrison in the cockpit. It was nothing like watching the man fly the Millenium Falcon, except that it felt like they had gone into lightspeed and landed not too long after taking off.

“You should be proud,” Harrison had told him. “You didn’t get sick.”

It had taken Willie until after they landed at the Santa Monica Airport to realize that he’d hardly spoken a word because he kept looking at him in pure shock at the reality of the man. His embarrassment must have appeared obvious, because Harrison Ford leaned down to look him in the eye.

“I’ve seen it a million times, don’t worry about it.” There was something sage about the resting expression on his face.

Chuckling in a flustered manner, Willie tried to think of the best way to thank him.

“Well, that was...that was really amazing, Mr., um...Mr. Ford. Thank you.”

The old actor smirked a little. Willie had seen a handful of actors come through the diner in Vegas before (at least, he’d been told they were famous, since he didn’t recognize most of them), and none of them were nearly as friendly.

“Willie, right?” Harrison had asked. It was enough to get him starstruck all over again, but he managed to nod. “Well, since I’ll never see you again, I’ll give you some advice.”

Willie listened intently.

“If you believe something is worth it, don’t quit. From what I already know about you, it doesn’t look like you do, so I have an extra piece of advice for you: planning and preparation is everything.”

Thinking back to when Bessie had scolded him about not riding the bus, Willie cowered inwardly. He couldn’t imagine how stupid he had sounded then.

“Do you know where you’re headed, kid? I can call a cab to take you anywhere you need.”

“How come you’re so nice?” Willie blurted. He hadn’t meant to.

Harrison Ford bowed his head, still smirking, and looked back up.

“I was twice your age before I really got anywhere. Now I’m just an old man who still does the job. Doesn’t mean I’m always nice, but sometimes….” He shrugged and gave him a wink.

Nodding, Willie had thanked him again. Harrison Ford held out a hand, which he shook with great enthusiasm before accepting the offer for the cab and saying goodbye. When he’d asked to go to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the cab driver had looked at him in confusion.

“You do?” the guy asked. Seeing the definitive nod from Willie in the back seat, he just looked resigned. “Okay.”

Shortly after being dropped off, Willie had realized why the cab driver had responded that way. Standing before Grauman’s Chinese Theater, the street was just another place covered in gum, surrounded by people dressed as other celebrities. He saw other people taking pictures with them, and saw that the ones all dressed up were being paid. Some young woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe was doing her best to catch his interest with a flirty pose and a wink. Awkwardly smiling, Willie turned away and went to explore that area of the city. It was a good thing he hadn’t owned a camera then.

Now, he had decided to get a cheap one, just to capture anything he found interesting when he saw it. He’d accumulated a handful of things in the past few months: the basement apartment, a mattress, his writing desk and chair, and his job at the record-store-slash-cafe, among other things. The fridge had already been in the room, which was a nice perk. It was cool enough that the owner of the building had been willing to rent to him even though he was still underage. Working at the record store was much better than both the diner and the hotel, although his hopes of having Alex or his friends chance to stop in were dwindling some.

For now, it was much like before he’d left Vegas, only without Caleb’s dark shadow constantly looming over him and a few more memories restored. And, of course, he could keep Sheldon with him. It was strange how meeting Alex and being at the Pearl already felt like a dream. Willie often had the thought that maybe he should move on and start planning out whatever he wanted now. Maybe Alex had just been the catalyst to get him out of a bad position and help him move forward.

Staring down presently at the drawing on his desk, Willie sighed. Alex’s smiling face (what he could remember of it) beamed up from the page. Sure, he could tell himself to be over it, but was he really? Sheldon began running about the apartment like he was being chased by an invisible foe, creating a distraction from Willie’s thoughts. After a while, he went to bed and lay awake replaying in his mind the last few moments he’d actually seen Alex. It was still so vivid. If it was no longer important, why could he recall it so well?

He watched as Alex stood up and held out a hand toward him. Taking it, he was impressed by the strength with which he was lifted off the surface of the observation deck. His mind returned to earlier that day when the situation had been reversed, and he wondered if Alex had felt the same exhilaration from that moment of closeness. He already missed the feeling of Alex’s fingers through his hair. Gaining his balance, he let go of Alex’s hand and a nervous giggle escaped as a bout of giddiness came over him.

“You alright there?” Alex teased, grinning.

Shaking his head, almost to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch, Willie grinned back.

“I’m having a good time,” he told him.

The warm smile that spread across Alex’s face and the way his eyes lit up deserved to be captured forever. Willie was sure he could fill a thousand pages of sketches, even if they were all of that one expression.

“Me, too,” Alex said, eyes wandering all over Willie’s face.

Before Willie could blush too hard, he picked up his skateboard.

“I know some shortcuts that’ll get us back to the hotel pretty quickly,” he started, pressing the button for the elevator. He didn’t want to go back so fast, but he had to remember his early work day in the morning. Caleb always had some sort of laundry list on the days he didn’t immediately go in to work at the diner.

“You’ve been a good tour guide so far,” Alex said as they stepped into the elevator.

Casting a wistful look back at the splendid view of Las Vegas, Willie watched the doors shut. Once they got out to the street again, Willie looked up at the hat sitting on Alex’s head. Impulsively, he lifted it up and put it on backwards, grinning at Alex.

“How does it look?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex’s jaw hung open for a moment, his nervous smile betraying him.

“It looks good,” he said in a breathless manner. It was such a cute expression, Willie wished he could make it happen again.

Alex was wishing right then that he could keep a picture of Willie with the hat on. He usually didn’t let people just steal it off his head, but when the result was that handsome he wasn’t going to complain. He’d wait until they had reached the hotel to ask for it back.

“So,” Willie started saying. “Back to L.A. in the morning, huh?”

Ah yes, the feeling of being crushed by reality. Alex bowed his head. He wasn’t excited to address it.

“Uh, yeah,” he sighed. “You know, when I got here I was hoping to just get the gig over with and leave, but that...I kind of forgot about that.”

He glanced up at Willie, not sure how much he should go into detail about why he changed his tune.

“But then you met Sheldon and he was the coolest cat ever, right?” Willie teased.

A chuckle of genuine entertainment escaped his throat. Did Willie know how charming he was? Alex wished he knew how to tell him.

“Yep, it was definitely the cat,” he responded. “Although the owner isn’t too bad, either.”

He got a casual shrug in return.

“Well, I know I’m busy, but I could call you,” Willie offered.

Fear pinched everything in Alex’s chest. It almost made him stop in his tracks.

“God, I - ” he started awkwardly, forcing his body to keep moving. “I can’t. I seriously wish I could, but that’s just...not possible.”

He already hated the words the moment they’d been spoken. His parents suspected enough things about him and his activity with the guys in his band, but they would make his reality pure hell if they ever picked up the phone from a guy they’d never met who had shown as much interest in him as Willie. While he felt fine being open just about anywhere else, at home was where he remained most guarded.

Willie was looking at him with slight disappointment.

“That’s too bad, I guess,” he said. “At least I know I won’t be going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

It was the only consolation they could afford. Alex wanted to make plans right then and there.

“And what would we do if I did find you?” he asked, knowing he was prodding for signs that he wasn’t the only one with hopes. He tried to relax his stride to appear more casual.

“Lots of possibilities,” Willie told him. “I haven’t shown you my favorite museum, or seen you skate - ”

“Just putting it out there,” Alex interrupted, raising a hand. “I cannot skate.”

Willie blew a raspberry. “Maybe not now, man, but you will by the time I’m finished with you.”

The way he wiggled his eyebrows made Alex think of something much different than riding a skateboard. He cleared his throat nervously as he looked up at the street they were on. The hotel was already a block away.

“Whoa, how’d we get here so fast?” he wondered.

“I know my shortcuts,” Willie said proudly.

Unfortunately, he did. Alex wanted more time to figure out a way to see Willie in the future. There had to be a possibility in the future. His long legs could only go so slowly, however, and soon they were stopped outside the hotel doors.

“Are you gonna make it home okay?” Alex asked. “Wherever that is?”

“I’ll be fine,” Willie shrugged plainly. “It’s not too far.”

For a minute, they stood in awkward silence. Alex could feel his entire body burning to make some gesture that left Willie with the right impression. What would be too forward? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? He’d already checked off holding him and running his hand through Willie’s hair, so he wasn’t going to simply send him off with a hand wave or something.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow before you guys go?” Willie said, smirking optimistically.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alex said, trying to return a smile with the same optimism.

“Oh,” Willie sputtered. He took off the hat and tried to place it back onto Alex’s head properly. It didn’t work, but Alex simply adjusted it into its comfortable backward position. His fingers twitched under the temptation to touch Willie’s hair again.

“One of these days…” he muttered.

“Hm?” Willie perked up curiously.

Oh, no, he’d said it out loud. Damn. There was no way he couldn’t follow up.

“Uh...one of these days I’ll be around here again,” he said, nodding to reassure himself. “I’ll come looking for you.”

Willie could only look up at him and smile.

“I…” Alex began to scratch the back of his neck, but forced his hand down into his pocket. It had to be said. “I definitely like you.”

He watched Willie’s face morph from surprise into a smile, and finally his trademark eyebrow raise.

“So do I,” Willie said, biting his lip.

They both giggled, now that their feelings were out there in the open. It only made Alex ache more to stay. Willie placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You take care, Alex,” he told him.

He nodded. “And you be safe, Willie.”

He got one more glance into those gorgeous brown eyes, longing to toss in a line and anchor himself in them. The dim lights from the street played off of the natural glimmer that was always present.

Feeling Willie’s hand slide off his shoulder and down his arm, Alex could’ve sworn there was a tiny squeeze he received at the end of his fingers before Willie let go and got onto his skateboard. He watched him leave until eventually he was staring out into the darkness all alone. Reluctantly, he headed back up to the hotel room.

Alex was lying awake in his bed, silent tears falling down his cheeks at the bitter memory. His last words to Willie had been powerless to protect him. What sort of sick and twisted universe would let that happen? He knew he had no control over those circumstances, but he still felt that if anyone died in a fire, it should be him. Willie had been too wonderful to deserve it.

Turning to his side, he still hated the sobs that wracked through his whole body months later. Most people would deem it pathetic to hurt this much over someone he’d barely known. It was strange, but it felt almost undeserved, like mourning as he did wasn’t allowed. What about the people that Willie had spent time with every day? How could Alex begin to fathom their pain? To them, his sorrow would appear as empty as if he were crying over Freddie Mercury. This hurt far more than when he’d cried over Freddie.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t tell his family. The guys had been okay at letting Alex have his space, but his parents kept making comments about his sudden upset over everything. They would only see death as something bittersweet, a “better place” to go for people who were doing the right things. Of course he was terrified of death - he wasn’t exactly considered worthy of anything good, by their standards. That only made the loss of Willie that much worse. He hadn’t bothered to explain himself to Abbey. He couldn’t put that emotional burden on her.

Before he could let his mind wander further into the dark, Alex tried to find something else for his brain to put on cycle. Oddly enough, it went back to singing for Julie’s mom at the hospital. The words immediately began to repeat in his mind: we all live in a yellow submarine…. It wasn’t a song that he truly loved, but it was catchy. It was the one Willie had suggested they do. Alex remembered how he’d imagined everyone in that room in their own world together, safe and free from worldly cares. Somewhere full of color and warmth and people could be happy as they were.

That’s all he truly wanted. Maybe he would have that with the band, and maybe he’d get away from his parents and finally be free from all of their pressure, and maybe one day he’d recover and find a guy like Willie again. He wasn’t sure what he really believed just yet, but there had to be something good worth holding onto. If it was just some stupid world where he and his friends lived in a yellow submarine, so be it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #sheldon the cat #harrison ford #viva las vegas #sketch/ache #fiddlepickdouglas

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phcking-detective · 5 years

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9. Positive Reinforcement

Fic Title: First Blood

Rating: E

Length: 9/33 chapters, ~128k

Tags: Slow Burn, Idiots to Lovers, Trans Character (gavin), Autistic / Asexual / Non-binary Character (nines), BDSM, learning to use good etiquette and safe words, Dom Nines / Sub Gavin, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Tags: hospitals, hurt/comfort, domestic, Nines takes care of Gavin, caring Dom Nines, Gavin has a mood swing / shouting episode but there’s no partner abuse, using BDSM instead of therapy (not recommended btw)

Link on AO3

***

Hospitals suck ass.

Gavin repeats this mantra to himself like one of those meditation techniques. It's not enough to block out how his hip keeps slipping between the three chairs he's trying to lay on horizontally or how fucking cold it is in nothing but jeans and Nines' stupid fucking Cyberlife jacket or the bright fucking florescent—

"Detective."

Gavin squints up at Nines' sudden appearance like he's looking at a miracle—inherently suspicious and wondering what the fucking catch is. He's woozy and tired and somehow also hungry, the nurse took four tries to find his vein, and Tina didn't answer any of his calls from the courtesy phone because who the hell answers phone calls?

"What are you doing?" Nines asks in the sort of tone normally reserved for walking in on someone trying to suck their own dick.

Not that Gavin's ever tried.

"I'm sleeping, fuck off."

"On three separate chairs?"

"You know what?" Gavin sits up and stabs a finger against the android's steel fucking stomach. "I'm tired, I don't have a phone or my wallet, I can't pay for a cab, Tina isn't answering, and I don't—"

The finger-stabs turn into punches.

"Have. Any. Other. Friends!"

Nines stands there, letting Gavin punch him until the bruised knuckles aren't worth it anymore. The waiting room starts to sway. Fuck, he really needs a snack or something right now. One free cookie and a juice box just isn't going to cut it.

"Here."

The inside of the jacket suddenly begins to warm up. Nice to know it could have done that the entire FUCKING time. Nines also produces Gavin's cellphone from his pants' pocket and offers it to him. Gavin snatches it back and stares at the screen.

"Can't phcking read this," he mutters.

Nines produces his headphones too. When all Gavin does is take them back and hold them stupidly in his other hand, Nines crouches down in front of him. His fucking head hurts so bad, Gavin actually sits quietly and doesn't complain while Nines plugs in the headphones and then puts the earbuds inside his ears.

Your jacket is at the dry cleaners. Nines' voice sounds in his head at a mercifully low volume. I have brought your truck and ordered you a large number five meal with a strawberry milkshake.

Gavin slumps forward and lets his head rest on Nines' shoulder so he doesn't cry. He punches the android's arm and chest a few more times for good measure. It doesn't even crinkle his fancy black dress shirt. Nines stays perfectly still and allows this too.

Your food is becoming cold, detective.

Gavin grunts. He'll get up in a second.

Nines decides he'll get up right now. Those ridiculous fucking yaoi hands grabbing his thighs is the only warning he gets before he's hoisted in the air and held against Nines' chest. Which—fuck, that's hot, but not here!

"Fuck off tin can, leggo!"

Gavin puts up a fight against his partner's gay shit because there are people watching. He can see them right over Nines' shoulder, the nurse at the front desk and the six other people in the waiting room. Yeah, shit's a lot better for gay people now, but that doesn't mean he wants the entire hospital to know what a bottom bitch he is.

"Don't fucking hold me like a fucking child," he complains as they reach the automatic doors.

A second later, Nines shifts him into his arms bridal style, like that's any better.

"Hold me like a man, god damn it!"

Then he's slung over Nines' shoulder in a fireman's hold. Between the giving blood wooziness and suddenly being upside down, he has to stop yelling and just focus on breathing for a second. The rush of cold air when they get out to the parking lot helps.

Even better, when he opens his eyes again, he's greeted by an up-close view of Nines' ass in tight dress pants. Best of all are the thick, powerful thighs right beneath it, marching away. A little bit lower, and he could just bury his face between those thighs and suffocate the way God intended.

Car tires crunch against the asphalt in front of them and Gavin's pretty sure he recognizes the blurry, upside-down image of his truck between Nines' legs. Has the automated driving feature always been capable of being remote controlled, or is that just some freaky shit that Nines did to it?

He doesn't get a chance to think any more about it before he's flipped upright, set inside his truck, and buckled into the passenger's seat like a toddler. It's a miracle he hasn't dropped his phone or had his headphones ripped out of his ears yet.

"I hate you," he tells Nines, just to make sure the android knows.

Nines takes the bag of fast food off the dash and sets it in his lap.

Occupy your mouth.

Gavin makes a face at him. Why's everything he say have to sound so ominously dominating? The passenger door shuts in his face before he can think of something smarter than I'll occupy your mouth though, so he settles for grabbing his milkshake and making loud slurping noises. Nines gets in on the driver's side and immediately takes the milkshake from him, so he counts it as a success. He's too hungry and tired of hurting his hands to try hitting him for it, so he digs into the food bag.

A large number five, fried chicken club sandwich, none of that stupid special sauce, extra ketchup.

Gavin really can't help the moan he makes when he bites into it. But there's only so much toxic masculinity even he can handle, and he'll moan like a bitch if he wants to moan like a bitch. As long as it's just the two of them.

"Mmphfgh. So."

Swallow.

Shit. Fuck, his headphones are still in. Gavin rolls his eyes to try to shake off how he jumped, but he does still swallow his bite before talking again.

"How'd you know to come get me? Tina never answered."

I know the location of the Henry Ford Medical Center, detective.

"Yeah, but who told you to come get me?"

It was an independent decision.

Gavin takes another huge bite of his sandwich to think that over. Some ketchup squirts out the other side onto his fingers, and he sucks it off as obnoxiously loud as possible. Nines flashes red in his peripheral vision. Well, he can't actually see the LED because it's on the wrong side, but he can see his partner's reflection in the driver's side window.

"You find the perp loitering nearby?" he finally asks.

No.

Gavin tries to think of any other reason Nines would come get him but comes up empty.

"So, why did you …?"

He takes another long drink of his milkshake to avoid putting whatever this is into words. Take care of me makes him sound like a child and do the nicest shit anyone's done for me in years (or maybe ever) just sounds pathetic.

We need to get back to work. Humans need food after donating blood. Your jacket needed to be cleaned.

All right, those are simple explanations. Yeah. Maybe that's just how Nines sees it. He doesn't have a social module, so he was probably just solving a series of problems, completing his task list or whatever. Not like. Actually caring.

Except then Nines turns and says out loud with soul-searing intensity, "You are my partner."

Gavin does the only reasonable thing and stuffs an entire handful of fries in his mouth so he doesn't have to look at those pretty blue eyes staring at him like he's important. Or do some gay shit, like cry.

He's not going to cry. It's just been a long day, that's all. He makes the mistake of looking at the dashboard clock.

11:36 am

Fuck.

***

(9 hours later …)

Mmm warm good smell. Food smell. Gavin takes another greedy inhale and feels the warm thing touch his lips. He instinctively takes a bite before he even finishes waking up. It tastes good and kind of chewy, if a little bland. He snuffles and licks the fingers that fed it to h—

Wait, fucking whom'st fingers is he licking right now?

"Fascinating."

Gavin swats the hand away and glares up at Nines hovering over him. "What the fuck did you just make me eat?"

Nines cocks his head to the side. He looks more like a creepy animatronic owl than the cute puppy eyes Connor gives when he does it.

"Can you not tell?" the android asks.

"Can you blow me?"

"I tried that on a banana," Nines says casually, as if that mental image makes any kind of sense.

"Whuh—wh—"

Gavin smacks his lips together and tries to figure out what his mouth tastes like right now. Kind of … cheesy? Like pasta maybe, but without any flavor. Whatever he swallowed was dry at least, so no sauce or anything.

"Why?"

"To know if I could," Nines replies. "My combat protocols automatically activated and my jaw locked shut."

"OK, so you can't eat bananas, but what the fuck did I eat?" Gavin demands.

"Technically, I did eat the banana," Nines says. "Partially. My jaw snapped shut after taking a bite of it inside my oral cavity."

Gavin's dick starts listening to the conversation. It's because of karma and maybe some sort of android fucking witchcraft that now his dick gets hard listening to the bitchiest most stuck up Alexa ever say the words "oral cavity."

Of course Nines notices the reaction right away. Because fuck his whole entire life, that's why. Nines stares down at his crotch and Gavin can practically hear a zzzzzz as his eyes zoom in on his traitor dick.

"Fascinating."

"Tell me what you fucking fed me or I swear to God, I'll—"

"One cheese ravioli."

Gavin stares at him. "A cheese … did it even have sauce?"

"No, I washed that off."

Gavin opens his mouth, stares harder at that completely serious face, and shuts it again. He pinches the bridge of his nose instead, rubbing over the thick gnarl of scar tissue there.

"Why …"

But that's all he can bring himself to say. For once, Nines is the one who has no trouble with speaking.

"So it wouldn't drip on the carpet," he says, like that's obvious.

"You really think a bit of Prego is gonna be the worst this carpet's ever seen?" Gavin asks.

Nines' face darkens into a scowl that would be terrifying if Gavin didn't know this was his version of pouting. "Do not remind me. I have deleted fifty-seven analysis reports this last hour alone."

Gavin rolls his eyes. "Well, why'd you feed me a cheese ravioli?"

"To save the beef ravioli as a higher value treat."

Gavin looks him over. His left arm hangs down casually by his side, but his hand presses slightly behind his crouched thigh. It looks like he's holding something in one of those magician's grip that makes his hand appear loose and open while something is secretly tucked into his palm.

"You may have the beef ravioli if you sit at the table," Nines tells him.

He stands up and takes a few steps backwards toward the kitchen, raising up his hand to reveal the ravioli. Gavin gets off the couch and marches toward him to kick his ass, but the android matches his pace exactly to step backwards until they're right next to the table. He opens his mouth to start yelling, which immediately proves to be a mistake.

Nines shoves the ravioli directly into his open mouth. Gavin automatically bites down, but the android's reflexes are too quick for him, and he gets his fingers clear before being bitten. Instead, Gavin only bites into delicious beefy filling.

And he would spit it out. He really would, right onto Nines' perfectly shined shoes.

Except it's been a long ass day filled with paperwork about what happened with the reporter and no other goddamn leads and he has no idea how late it is since he fell asleep on the couch, but it's definitely past suppertime and he's hungry as fuck.

(Also, maybe he remembers the consequences of the last time he tried to spit at Nines, and his traitor-dick needs to Shut Up about that.)

Gavin chews the beef ravioli with the angriest face he can muster. It doesn't help that it's really fucking good, way better than the takeout and ramen he usually lives on. Nines opens the lid of the to go box sitting on the kitchen table, and the best smell his trash apartment has ever encountered steams out.

Gavin sits his angry ass down and starts to eat. Fuck him if he's going to waste good food. Most of the ravioli is beef, but there's some cheese-filled ones too, mixed in with the rest in a thick meaty sauce. Nines sits in the seat across the table to stare at him while he eats. Fucking creeper. Always one step behind him, staring at him, following him back home like they're friends or something.

"Why the fuck are you still here?" he deliberately asks with his mouth full.

"Juarez is currently our best lead to identifying the shooter," Nines answers. "As she may wake from her coma at any time, it is most efficient for me to stay with you in the event we are called during off duty hours."

Gavin chews his food. His partner is real fucking good at coming up with totally logical answers that he can't argue against without looking stupid even though he just knows that's bullshit.

"Whatever," he says. "I'm not paying you back for this. Or the chicken sandwich."

Nines keeps staring at him with those blank, lizard eyes. "I did not ask you to."

Gavin pushes back his chair and slams his hands on the table, yelling "Fuck you!" before he even knows what hits him. His moods are like that sometimes.

Nines doesn't even blink.

Usually, that sort of shit would just set him off even more. The lack of response sure as hell drove him to push harder and harder when they first got assigned as partners. Now Gavin just feels stupid, shouting at someone just sitting there.

Stupid. Fuck, he always does this shit. He knows this. He <i>knows</i> this.

"I don't …" Gavin forces himself to exhale slowly out through his teeth, gripping the edge of the table so he doesn't throw something. "Need. Your charity."

Stupid stupid stupid.

"You are my partner," Nines says.

Monotone. Four words and not a single inflection. When Gavin finally makes himself look up from panting at the grain of the fake-wooden table, Nines' face is just as blank. It should probably trigger some sort of uncanny valley lurch in his stomach, but without any micro-expressions for his brain goblins to pick up on and start screeching about, Gavin's anger starts slipping away like resin on tarp.

He looks back down at the table so he doesn't have to see his partner's face.

"If you cannot accept your own rule that partners look out for each other, consider this an investment to ensure you are recovered for our next shift tomorrow."

Gavin exhales again. Then inhales. Stupid. Exhale. At least he didn't throw anything. Inhale. This time.

"Also, I am applying Pavlovian training to encourage behaviors convenient to me."

Gavin sits back down and rubs both hands through his hair. "You're dog training me?"

"Positive reinforce—"

"You can't fix this," Gavin growls out, then gestures to himself and the kitchen at large. "This! Me. Anyone can read a fucking psychology book, dipshit—I already know what's wrong with me. If I could just good behavior myself into getting better, I would have done it already."

Nines' composure finally breaks as he blinks. "I am not a KL-nine-hundred unit, detective. I have absolutely no intention of—"

Gavin groans because he knows the air quotes are coming. Nines looks him dead in the eyes and does them anyway.

"—'fixing' you."

"I hate you."

"I only want to encourage relevant behaviors," Nines continues without acknowledging the outburst. "Such as doing your own paperwork rather than playing games on your phone."

Gavin grunts and manages to take another bite now that he's settled down some. Sure, maybe he'd been dumping all his paperwork on Nines now that the android has proven he knows how to do it properly. But he gets it done way faster and trying to make letters hold still on a bright ass computer screen gives him the worst headaches. God, he probably needs reading glasses at this point but he'd rather his entire head split open than wear that kind of shit at the station.

"Listening to my input at crime scenes."

"Hhegh," Gavin says around a mouth full of beef.

"Basic table manners."

Gavin swallows. "Hey. Fuck off, I do listen to you. I have been, so don't fucking sit there and try to tell me—"

"You have been," Nines says.

Gavin stops with his mouth hanging open. Dammit, he was just getting good and pissed off again, and then the bastard goes and agrees with him. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? It's definitely a trap. Like sarcasm, or some sort of passive aggressive ...

Something.

"Throughout our current case, you have taken note of my input," Nines says. "I was not implying otherwise, simply that I would start rewarding you for doing so."

Gavin narrows his eyes at him. "Yeah? Why?"

"I was forced to work with other humans at the Juarez residence." Nines finally finds some inflection to say other humans like he means radioactive screaming toddlers. "It was not ideal. And while I certainly will not beg for your continued cooperation, I am not above bribery as a means to ensure I can do my work in peace rather than relying on … the kindness of your heart."

Gavin grunts again and goes back to his food. Eating slightly cold ravioli is easier than making eye contact with his partner right now. He might have been a teensy bit better lately, but obviously he's not some kind of android rights activist. If Nines is worried he's going to flip back to being an asshole on a whim or a bad day or because other people were watching, well.

That's pretty fucking fair, to be honest.

"Dog training though?" he mutters after a minute. "Really?"

"I have read many human psychology books." Nines pauses, then adds, "Dipshit."

Gavin snorts and lets the insult pass.

"I can recite them. I understand the words. But they are merely words to me," Nines admits slowly. "Dog training books are much more simple."

"Is this a kink thing?"

Nines rolls his eyes. "Gavin, would you care to explain to me in honest and personal detail why offering food triggered such an immediate and violent reaction? Please include at least three references to your childhood."

Gavin shoves more ravioli in his mouth and smacks as loudly as possible as he chews.

"Then perhaps you would prefer a simpler way of relating to one another," Nines speaks over the noise. "No emotional sharing, no childhood details, no sad sob stories about what made you like this. You behave, you get food. That is all."

"What if I don't behave?" Gavin immediately challenges.

"Then you do not receive any food or treats."

"You gonna punish me, sir?"

Nines glares down his perfectly sculpted nose at him. "If you had listened to my explanation on the benefits of positive reinforcement, you would already know why it is the more effective training method."

Gavin resists the urge to repeat thE MorE eFFeCtIve TrAInInG MeTHoD back at him.

"Also," Nines continues. "You are far too much of a needy little painslut to be truly punished by corporeal means."

Gavin focuses very hard on mopping up the rest of the meat sauce with his side of garlic bread instead of answering that. Even when they know better, he's never met a Dom he couldn't piss off into beating the shit out of him just like he wanted. Technically, if they're counting their little "scene" in the DPD's men's bathroom, Nines hasn't proven himself to be an exception, either.

"Well." He stands up and leaves the mess on the table. "Good luck with your totally not a kink pet play. I'm gonna go watch funny youtube videos until my brain dies."

"Cat videos?" Nines asks as he passes him, raising one perfect eyebrow. "Am I to assume those are not also a pet play ki—"

Gavin flips him off and slams his bedroom door shut.

***

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33

I also have a Patreon for this fic, if you want to support me! $1 gets you access to chapters a week early, $2 gets bonus content and deleted scenes, and $3 gets short chapters from two AUs I’m writing: an A/B/O heatfic and reverse!AU

by the way, Nines totally posted a video of himself feeding asleep-Gavin the ravioli to his blog and it has a weird overly formal title like Human (36M) Instinctively Eats Ravioli During the Course of REM Sleep. all of his posts are like that because they’re meant to be “educational” “”experiments”” and the text posts are just black text on a white background

meanwhile, Connor’s blog consists exclusively of super cute pictures featuring either him and Hank on dates or cuddling on the couch, and Sumo of course. Nines thinks it’s disgusting and dumb and is lowkey (actually highkey) upset that Connor’s blog gets way more views than his

It isn’t even educational!! >:(

#reed900 #reed900 fic #gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #my writing #ch 9 #the patreon supports my transition and I have my first HRT appointment in 11 days!!

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donutpwns · 6 years

Text

Little Brother Blues - Part 2

Part 1 - Part 3

Two days pass relatively quickly and Ford comes to a few conclusions about his future.

The first is that the Shack is nice. He's sad that they don't have the Stan O War; Old Stanley says it just didn't work out but won't explain how. Grown up stuff, he says, and Ford hates that Stanley can say that now. But the Shack is nice. He likes the attractions, even if most of them are fake. He wants to draw them, wants to draw new ones too but he doesn't know where to start with that. Stanley was always good at making up monsters; Ford pretended to be mad about it sometimes but really it was just fun. And Stan made money with them, which was super neat. Maybe they could buy a boat! It wouldn't be as cool as building one, but they could still go on a sea adventure together. That would be fun; he needs to ask Old Stanley about that later.

Old Stanley was weird but Ford still liked him a lot. He looks like their dad but he smiles way more, except sometimes when he looks at Ford and just stops smiling. That hurts but Ford would probably be sad too if Stanley forgot everything they ever did together so he doesn't get mad about it. He wants to be big again so they can be best friends again, like they're supposed to be. Old Stanley also has to work and tells people what to do all day and it's so boring. He never wants to play with him, even when he's not working and sitting in his chair in front of a huge TV. It's been two whole days and Stan still hasn't played with him once, not even checkers and Stanley loves checkers because Ford pretends not to notice when he flips pieces over to be kings even though he didn't cross the board. He wants Ford to be big again too. It's very boring.

His niece and nephew aren't boring though. He learns that they're two years older than him but they're not like the big kids back home. Mabel is really nice, even if she hugs and yells too much, and he really likes the sweaters she makes for him. It's been forever since he had new clothes or even clothes just for him. Usually he and Stanley just share hand-me-downs. Heh, guess Stanley’s too big to share now. His shorts and sneakers are from Dipper though so still hand-me-down but at least he doesn't have to share. Dipper is really cool and knows a lot about real monsters. He even has these books that talk about all the monsters in the town. They look through them to try to find out why Ford got turned into a kid again but he keeps getting distracted by other cool things in the books.

Like the gnomes. He found the page on the gnomes and has to see them in person. Getting older can wait because gnomes. Mabel calls them bearded jerks because they apparently tried to marry her, which is gross, but agrees that they can go on an adventure to see them. He thinks she likes adventures just as much as Dipper does.

“What about Old Stanley?” he asks while they load up backpacks with snacks and cans of Pitt Soda. He doesn't want to go on his first real adventure without Stanley, even if he was old. It just doesn't feel right. They probably had lots of cool adventures together but Ford doesn't remember them so they don't count. They were supposed to be the greatest adventurers of all time; the New Jersey Kings. He can't go without Stanley now.

“Grunkle Stan doesn't usually adventure with us unless we know it might try to kill us.” Dipper is packing extra notebooks which Ford thinks is a great idea. Dipper is really smart. “Like with the dinosaurs or the zombies.”

A gasp escapes him and he can feel energy bubbling up inside him. “You guys have seen dinosaurs?! And zombies?! That’s so cool! Can we go see those later?” he shoves his glasses back up his nose when they slip down; they fit a lot better after the kids shrank them with a magic flashlight but still slide down his nose when he gets too excited.

Mabel grins wide as anyone he's ever seen. “Yeah, but the coolest part was Grunkle Stan! He beat up a dinosaur,” she punches the air, “and a bunch of zombies for us! And then we made the zombies head explode by singing!” she makes an explosion sound with her mouth, throwing her hands out and falling back against Dipper.

Stanley is the coolest ever, no matter how old he was. Ford is gonna make him tell him all about it later because he has a right to know about how awesome Stanley is. “I want Old Stanley to come.” He decides with a nod and turns to the door. Finding gnomes with Stanley! What could be better? When Stanley was his age, he'd never have believed it. Stanley didn't believe in monsters but Ford is happy to know he did now. They studied them together! Oh, he hoped he'd been cool too when they fought the zombies.

Stanley’s in the museum, right inside the doorway that connects to the gift shop; Ford doesn't notice that a group of tourists are in front of his until he's already called out to him. In an instant, a dozen pairs of eyes are on him and he's shoving his hands behind his back. His face feels way too hot. Right, Old Stanley did tours because he worked.

Old Stanley laughs and that thankfully gets the attention off of him. “Sorry about that, folks! My nephew is a little excitable. The gift shop is right this way; make sure to grab a bumper sticker! Free with every shirt you buy if you donate five extra bucks!” he ushers them through the doorway to the gift shop, many of them talking about what a deal that was. The bumper stickers were only three dollars on their own though, Ford is pretty sure. Also he's not Stanley's nephew; Old Stanley lies a lot. Stan lied a lot when they were kids too but it feels like a bigger thing when a grown up does it.

He stiffens when Old Stanley turns to him, his smile disappearing with a sigh. Ford wants to squirm but makes sure to straighten his back. You gotta stand up tall, that's what their dad and boxing coach said, when you want something. And he wants Stanley to come with them really, really bad.

“You guys find anything in the books, Sixer?” Stanley asks while shutting the door that connects the museum to the shop. The sounds of the tourists chattering is quieter through the door and muffled enough to ease some of the tension out of his shoulders. Ford really doesn’t like crowds; that part of the Shack wasn’t very cool.

“Gn-gnomes!” he stammers out then winces. Okay, bad start. He clears his throat and shakes his head before looking up at Stanley with determination. New Jersey Kings! First adventure! You can do this, Stanford. “There are gnomes in the forest, Stanley! I wanna see them so we're going on an adventure to find them. And then we’ll look more into why I’m a kid again but first gnomes!”

Stan looks unimpressed as he flips his eye patch up. Ford thinks the eye patch is neat but he doesn't understand why Stan wears it. “What's there to find? They live in a clearing like thirty minutes from here.” He jerks his thumb towards the back of the house. “They go through our trash a couple times a month. Once they stole one of my attractions and I had to chase them back.”

Ford puffs out his cheeks in frustration; why does Stan have to make it seem like it’s not a big thing? Maybe he’s used to it, but Ford has never seen a gnome before. Well, not that he can remember, at least. But still! Magic should never not be special. “That means you can show us how to get there!” he grins and bounces in place. “You can show us and I can see a gnome!”

“I’m working, Ford.” Stan frowns down at him and Ford stares back. He wins the staring contest; Stan looks back towards the gift shop and crosses his arm. “Why do you even want to see one so bad? Isn’t all the info you would want to know in that stupid book?”

Ford huffs because the book is not stupid. Stan is being extra grumpy today. “I don’t want to just read about something cool, Stanley! I want to see it!” he clenches his fists and pushes up onto his tiptoes, “Remember when we camped out on the beach all weekend in the Stan O War because we thought there was a sea monster coming up and stealing our snacks?” Ford knew it was actually Stan eating them all when he wasn’t looking, but that hadn’t been the point. It was about the adventure. “We stayed up all night trying to catch it!” Stan had stolen a pocket knife from their Dad’s shop and they’d carved their names on the inside of the hull. They’d both gotten the belt for that but it had been worth it.

Stan actually laughs at that and shakes his head, which makes Ford grin even harder. He rubs at his forehead, “Ma was livid about that. She sprayed us with the hose so we wouldn’t track sand inside.” This time when he looks at Ford, the smile stays in place though he still looks a little skeptical. “Wouldn’t you rather have an adventure to fix yourself?”

“We can do that later! I want to have some fun first!” he reaches up so he can grab Stan’s arm; he has to dig his heels in and tug extra hard but Stan does take a step forward. “Old me has got to have all kinds of fun with you guys, it’s my turn now! C’mon! We can see the gnomes and then I promise I’ll work extra super hard to find out what bit me!” he wraps his arms around Stan’s arm when he tries to pull away; he yelps when he’s lifted off the ground. Holy Moses, Stanley was strong. “Pleeeeeease, Old Stanley! I’ll double pinky swear to work on it!”

“And here I thought the kids got it from me.” Stanley mutters before putting Ford back on the ground. He kneels so they’re on the same eye level, which Ford greatly prefers. He doesn’t like Stanley being taller; Ford is supposed to be the big brother, after all. “Okay, okay. You can go with the kids to see the gnomes but then—“

“You gotta come too!” Ford holds up his right hand and sticks out the last two fingers. “All of us! Kings of Gravity Falls! And Queen too, I guess, since Mabel is a girl. We’re all gonna go together!”

Stan sighs but he still hooks his pinky around Ford’s two. They shake their hands up and down twice and give an extra hard squeeze. “Double swear. We see the gnomes and then we focus on getting you fixed. Got it, Sixer?”

Ford nods and feels like a hundred bucks when Stan musses up his hair like he’s seen him do to Dipper before. This was going to be the best ever!

-----------------------

So this wasn’t exactly the best ever.

The ropes around his wrists chafe really badly and it’s worse every time he tugs on them. He keeps bumping into Dipper’s back as they’re marched through underground tunnels. Normally he’d find the large expansive network of tunnels, and the cool glowing mushrooms, very fascinating but the sharp spear that keeps poking him in the back anytime he stops to try to get a good look at them is kinda soiling the whole thing. Man, Mabel was right, gnomes were bearded jerks.

The tunnels are bigger than Ford would’ve expected for gnomes, though the ceiling is low enough that Stan has to hunch where he’s walking ahead of Dipper. Ford winces at the thought of the lecture he was probably going to get if they made it out of this. Stanley seems like he lectures now when he’s not being fun. Man, this whole thing was a bit of a bust.

They’re lead to a giant central chamber with a tall ceiling from which what looks like hundreds of glowing orbs are hanging from. There’s enough passageways lining the walls to make Ford think they could get lost forever in them. He should’ve brought some of Mabel’s yarn; it could’ve been like the story of the Minotaur and the Labyrinth! Though it might be difficult to leave a trail of yarn with his hands tied up. Hm. He’s going to have to brainstorm that later. See what Dipper thought of it.

There are two thrones set up side by side against the far wall. A gnome with a brown beard that looks a lot less bushy than the others he’s seen is sitting on the left one while the other sits empty aside from a pillow with a tiara on it. There’s a picture of a girl with long blonde hair and more makeup than even his Ma wears hanging on the wall right above the empty throne. The gnome that had been sitting in the other throne seems to notice they're all staring at it because he looks back at it and quickly throws a blanket over it.

“Pacifica.” Mabel says it the same way Stanley used to say Crampelter. She’s at the front of the group and has even more rope around her wrists than any of the rest of them. Also one of the gnomes put a flower crown on her head so that’s weird. They also smashed the leaf blower she’d brought with her when they captured them.

“Heh, pay no attention to that! We weren't thinking about making her our new queen after you broke our hearts or anything!” he laughs nervously, moving to stand between Mabel and the now covered painting. He clasps his hands in front of him and makes gross gaga eyes at her. “We still only have eyes for you, Mabel! And we’re so happy you decided to finally accept our proposal and become our queen!”

Mabel’s response to that, because she is awesome, is to kick the gnome right in the face. “Stop kidnapping girls, Jeff! It’s creepy!” she kicks another gnome that tries to jab her with a stick. “Also, I thought you guys lived in the forest?”

“We live lots places! You don’t know!” Jeff brushes himself off. “And maybe we thought our new queen would like this better than the forest. We’re working on our pitch!” he hops back onto the throne. “Oh well, that doesn’t matter, because you’re here!”

Dipper and Mabel groan at the same time. “No girl is going to be happy if you kidnap them!” Dipper scowls and moves to stand next to his sister. “Geez, why do all the creeps like you, Mabel?”

“Because I’m adorable and awesome and the best anyone could ever have and I also have a pig.” Mabel says it so matter-of-fact that Ford’s not sure anyone can dispute it. “And I’m not going to marry you and your giant colony of jerks, Jeff!”

Jeff waves his hand like he’s trying to wave away the statement. “You’ll learn to love us! And, hey, we’ll let you keep your family! That was the deal breaker before, right?” he reaches into his beard and pulls out a rose that looks like it’s been stepped on. “C’mon, just say yes!”

Mabel tries to kick him again but the gnome manages to jump back against the back of the throne before her foot connects. “The deal breaker is that I hate you!”

“No marriage is perfect!” he screams when she jumps up onto the throne to kick him.

Stan lets out a loud yell that has everyone looking at him; Ford’s eyes widen when Stan pulls his hands out from behind his back, length of rope held in his right hand. The rope wasn’t even broken! How in the world—Stanley whirls, grabbing a spear that was being jabbed at him right below the point and jerking. The gnome holding it manages to hold its grip, though it probably regrets that when Stan swings the spear and gnome both to slam into another one that was running towards them. That one drops the spear and Stan picks it up.

“Dipper! Catch!” Stan yells and Dipper, somehow, manages to turn and actually catch the spear. He fumbles it but it doesn’t drop; it’s small enough for him to slip it down and start rubbing the point against the ropes around his wrists. Oh! That’s so smart! “Mabel—”

“On it, Grunkle Stan!” on it for Mabel was apparently chasing Jeff and kicking him repeatedly.

Unable to do much, Ford ends up just trying to dodge spears while he watches his family fights a quickly growing group of gnomes. Dipper has his hands free before too long and quickly moves over to get Mabel free; once she’s got her hands she is taking a page out of Stan’s book and punching. Jeff tries to jump on her only to scream when he gets an eyeful of what looks like glitter and fall to the ground.

Four stack on top of each other and try to attack Stan; they topple with a single left hook. Wow, Stan really learned a lot from their boxing lessons. Ford’s starting to regret not paying more attention. Maybe their dad was right about knowing how to fight being important.

“Catch, Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper calls and Ford turns in time to get smacked in the face with the spear; it clatters to the ground and nearly knocks his glasses off too. He tries to squat to grab them but another gnome is running at him so he screams and runs away instead. He hears Dipper yell “Sorry!” but is much too busy trying not to die by gnome to respond.

Crap crap crap crap!

This wasn’t supposed to happen! Ford just wanted to see some gnomes, not fight them! Oh crud! He needs to get behind Stanley, Stanley is good at fighting! Yeah, Stan will keep him safe and then they can escape. Oh, he was going to get Stan so many bags of toffee peanuts for this.

That’s when he sees Stan grappling with what looks like a person made of gnomes, standing a little taller than Stan himself, with four more gnomes stacked up behind him. Something electric shoots through his gut at the sight of it; how can they attack someone from behind like that?

He runs forwards before he can really think about it, ducking his head so the back of it and his shoulders take the majority of the hit as he bowls into the stack behind Stan. It’s enough to collapse them before they could hit Stanley. Stanley lets out another yell and turns to slam the gnome-person into the ground, where it shatters and all the gnomes scatter back.

Stanley’s hair is sticking to his temples with sweat and his chest is heaving but his eyes are about as wide as his grin that Ford has to mirror. Ford wonders if this is how Stan feels whenever he punches bullies and if so, he suddenly understands why he likes punching things so much. He wonders if they ever learned to fight together when they got bigger; he hopes they did.

“They’re forming Gnome-tron!” Mabel yelps as her and Dipper reach where Ford and Stan are standing. She’s also got hair sticking to her face, cheeks even more flushed than normal. Dipper is panting with a hand on his knee while the other points to where all the gnomes are starting to pile together. The pile starts taking the shape of the gnome-person Stanley had been fighting but much, much bigger.

“Hot Belgian waffles.” Stanley says it under his breath and then all of a sudden Ford is off the ground.

He grunts as his stomach hits Stan’s shoulder, quickly sucking back in the breath that was knocked out of him. He kicks his legs; why hadn’t he caught the stupid spear to untie his hands?! Dipper is tossed on Stan’s other shoulder and they share a brief moment of solidarity at how much this sucks. Stanley locks an arm around his back to keep him in place while they run. Mabel runs behind Stanley while he takes off down a tunnel. Ford wants to be offended as she keeps up with Stanley but it’s really hard to once he sees a hand made of gnomes reaching for them down the tunnel.

Dipper laughs from his place on Stan’s other shoulder and cups his hands around his mouth. “Forget that you’re underground? Stupid gnomes!”

“Yeah, bearded jerks!” Mabel throws another handful of glitter over her shoulder.

“Kids, escape, then taunt the enemy! Basic rules of capture!” Stanley yells as he takes a sharp left turn.

Ford tries to take in as much as he can while being jostled by the running and while his heart is pounding in his throat. The mushrooms glow without any other light source, there’s different colored moss littering the ground. He recognizes a few things, like specific groupings of mushrooms or a scratching of different names x Queen in the walls, that he saw when they were being led in. Did Stan remember the way they were led in?

Ford was never happier to see the sun than when they burst through the branches and such that were covering the entrance to the tunnels. Stan drops Dipper who scurries over to where their backpacks were left. He takes his and tosses both Mabel’s and Ford’s to his sister. Ford kicks his feet again but Stan just tightens his hold so he doesn’t fall off.

By the time they reach the treeline within sight of the Shack, Stan is drenched in sweat and coughing from how bad he’s panting. He does finally drop Ford though; as soon as Ford is off his shoulder, Stan his hands on his knees much like Dipper next to him. Mabel stretches to be able to pat both of them of the back at the same time.

They pant for several minutes, trying to catch their breath and waiting to see if the gnomes chased them all the way back. The only sound is their labored breathing and the sounds of Mabel untying the ropes still binding Ford’s wrists. He rubs at the red, raw skin. Slowly their breathing evens out and there doesn’t be any sign of the gnomes.

He doesn’t know why it happens, maybe it’s all the energy still buzzing in his chest, but laughter bubbles up from inside him. He grips his stomach, unable to stop the peals of laughter that tumble out. It seems to be contagious; Stan start’s chuckling next to him and then the twins are covering their mouths while they giggle. Ford doesn’t even mind when Mabel tugs him into a tight hug, her face sweaty and hot when she presses their cheeks together. He even manages to get an arm around her to hug her back.

Stanley wipes his eye under his glasses, chest still shaking with laughter that won’t stop. “Holy cow that was a stupid idea. I say we have a treat after all that, yeah?” he moves his hands to muss up Mabel’s hair and shove Dipper’s hat down over his eyes. “You kids are gonna be the death of me.” His hand moves to muss up Ford’s hair next, “All three of you. C’mon. That’s enough for a day right.”

Mabel grins and sticks her hands under her hair to lift it off the back of her neck while she follows Stan towards the door. “We should probably let Pacifica know to look out for gnomes that want to kidnap her.”

Dipper nods next to her. “Last thing we want is to have to rescue her.”

Ford moves to follow but freezes in place; the hairs on the back of his neck are standing on end as the feeling of being watched hits him. He frowns and looks back towards the trees. He could’ve sworn he just heard someone else laugh. He looks over the trees, trying to spot any gnomes that might’ve followed them.

Dipper yells from the porch, “Great Uncle Ford! C’mon! Grunkle Stan’s busting open the ice cream freezer!”

A grin takes over Ford’s face and he takes off towards the porch. Oh well, it was probably nothing.

#this is also on ao3 if you prefer to read it there #little brother blues #kainichivonwrites #gravity falls #mabel pines #stan pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #1.5 stans

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