Chapter Text
It wasn’t until the elevator door slid open that Ford realized he hadn’t brought any food for Bill. He felt a bit sick as the elevator lurched back up to the gift shop.
Stanley retired to his room , so he worked as quietly as he could . In the fridge, he found a container with shepherd's pie. That would work.
He watched it spin around in the microwave, lost in thoughts of a warm hand on his thigh, and trying not to think about how much he wished it hadn't stopped there. It was far too warm in the kitchen and there was another minute left on the timer so he ducked into the bathroom down the hall. He was probably too drunk to deal with Bill right now. His fingers had been inches from his belt. Yes, he was too drunk for this. But he had to give him dinner.
He turned on the tap, ignoring the muffled beep of the microwave, and splashed water over his flushed face. Half the water missed his target and soaked the front of his shirt.
"Shit," He muttered, he would need to change before seeing Bill. If he was going to pretend he was sober a soaked shirt was a dead giveaway that he was not as in control of his faculties as he would like to be.
He stopped on the way back to the kitchen, swearing that he heard a whisper that he couldn't make out. He tried to stay as still as he could to hear if the noise came again, but curiosity won out. He snuck into the kitchen, managing to knock into an open drawer and a chair that had been left askew.
He panicked that the noise would be enough to pull Stanley out of his room to ask him why he was red, and his shirt soaked. The whole town would know before the end of the week, and he would be teased about it for months. Moving quickly, if not coordinatedly, he grabbed the container of Sheppard's pie from the counter and retreated to the comfort of the elevator.
As soon as the door slid open he heard Bill shouting.
"Let me out, or I swear I will pee on this floor." Bill sounded serious.
Ford rushed to Bill's room and slotted the key into the lock. What would sober him say to Bill in this situation? Everything he could think of didn't sound right. He fumbled with the lock and swung the door open. Bill didn't give him a chance to say anything, pushing past him and into the bathroom.
Ford had stumbled when pushed and just managed to catch himself before falling on a bookcase holding several wet specimens. This was a nightmare scenario. He needed a plan and step one was to eliminate the need for tests of coordination in front of Bill. So he sat on his bed, watching the bathroom door as Bill re-entered the room, purposefully flicking water from his fingers onto Ford, grabbing the container from his hands and flopping down onto the bed next to him.
"Bill." Ford hoped by saying the demon's name firmly enough he would convey a threat about what he would do if Bill tried that trick again.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Did my three drops of water make you wet or did you fall in a lake, Sixer?" He was gesturing to the shirt Ford had meant to change but hadn't had the chance to.
"I didn't even go to the lake today." That would shut Bill up, he was pleased with his ability to keep in control.
"I was joking, smart guy." Bill shovelled another bite of the blue mash into his mouth. It was... blue? He leaned forward to peer into the container. The top of the potatoes was decorated with a half-eaten smiley face of multicoloured jelly beans. He hadn't done that and Bill had no access to any candy.
"I appreciate you adding some chaos here for me.” Bill grinned at him in a way that made his blood go cold.
"I didn't." Ford had no clue what was going on, he couldn't remember taking it out of the microwave. It had just been on the counter when he came in and there had been a noise. Did Bill have a way to control him from the basement or was he blacking out and losing time? Neither was good, he could barely stand, and he needed to get Stanley.
"You ok there, IQ?" Bill's voice sounded distant and hard to focus on over the pounding in his ears. He counted his breaths keeping his eyes open and trained on Bill's hand, firmly in his grasp, not going anywhere.
"Woah, buddy, I can't exactly ease your mind like when I was myself."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Ford didn't know if he was saying that because he was squeezing Bill's hand tight enough to cause damage, or because he was forced to witness his display.
"Sss'okay," Bill hissed in pain, "I deserve it." Ford couldn't see if he was lying or not, his vision was blurry and his throat burned to let out a sob. He was fighting with everything he had to keep it together, not when Bill could escape so easily , and his family was so vulnerable. His hand locking Bill in place kept him grounded enough to eventually steady his breathing .
As his senses came back to him he could feel Bill's other hand rubbing small triangles on his back. He shuddered.
"You can't... um." He choked out. "Are you messing with my head?"
"I hope so." Bill peeled Ford's hand off of his own and rubbed his purpled fingers. He turned his head to centre his good eye and flashed a grin at Ford. "Cause you're always on my mind, handsome."
The whiplash that Ford felt, at going from blind panic to being flirted with, made him forget all thoughts from moments ago. No human would think that this was an appropriate time. Bill blinked and seemed to enjoy when Ford's face flushed.
"Don't wink at me, right now. I'm too-"
"Too drunk for this?" Bill offered, innocently shifting closer to the overwhelmed man. Of course, he would take an opportunity to exploit his vulnerability.
Ford swallowed. "I'm not..." Bill's hand was back on his thigh sending a wave of heat across his body.
The last time he felt like this was in university when F convinced Ford to join him in a horror movie marathon. The drinking games F had come up with had grown mo re and more r idiculous until Stanford was laughing so hard he had to clutch onto F's arm to keep from falling off the bed. F had moved close to him until they were breathing the same, hot, breath. He had been frozen then too , watching as Fidd's eyes flicked down to his lips.
The moment was lost when the RA came pounding on the door to address a noise complaint filed against them. He had panicked then too. He would be in trouble, his dad would find out, he'd be disowned like Stanley, and F would learn how inexperienced he was and leave.
That time he had been aroused and then panicked and this time he had become aroused while he was panicking. He was fucked up.
He was kissing Bill. He didn't remember who moved first, but his eyes were closed and he was lost in the sounds Bill was making and how his mouth was wet and warm and wanting. He was surprised at how gentle Bill was, sloppy and eager, but seemingly just copying Ford's movements. He wondered if Bill had ever kissed anyone. Maybe he was the first, he hoped he was the first.
He must be dreaming, passed out drunk and his mind was mixing past experiences with present. But Ford knew what it felt like to be in a dream and this was too real. He pushed Bill onto his back, the man moving easily under him, pupil blown wide. He couldn't fake that, or could he? Ford moved his hand downward. He had to know if Bill was playing him again.
He brushed his hand over Bill's pants, felt how hard he had become, and pulled back in surprise. Bill had been kissing Ford with his eye open the whole time, but it grew wider at the contact. He felt creeped out and incredibly turned on at the thought that Bill had been watching him. And then Bill spoke, and Ford came crashing back into reality.
"Fuck, Sixer." Bill was panting, "I would've gotten a body before if I knew this was how you would treat it."
Ford fumbled in his pocket, pulling his cuffs free and securing Bill the same as the first night he had been there.
"Mmmmm, I should've guessed a freak like you would be kinky." Bill tried to push up on his elbows to kiss him again, but Stanford was backing out of the room, this was a mess and he was a mess and he would deal with this tomorrow.
For the second time that night, he snuck back upstairs but this time he headed to his spare room. He lay in discomfort, not allowing thoughts of how aroused Bill had looked or his hand to touch himself to those thoughts. It took a while for him to slip into unconsciousness, he hoped he didn't remember any of this the next morning.
"Mabel, you awake?" Dipper chucked a crumpled paper ball at his sister, and if it happened to wake her up then that wasn't his fault.
"Ugh," She raised a hand to swat at any other projectiles, "What time is it?"
"7:30."
"AM!?"
"Uh, yes?"
"Dipper, that's a school wake-up time. This is summer." She was glaring at him but she had needed to sit up to do that so Dipper took it as a win.
"Great, can I bounce some theories off of you?" He was already clicking a laser pointer pen in excitement and Mabel melted onto the floor, propping herself up with a dramatic level of effort to listen.
"Ok, what did all the plants we collected have in common?" He started to set the scene.
"I found them way before you did," Mabel grumbled, clearly not as invested as he was, yet.
"No. They're all used in medicine." He turned to point out the first drawing he had done, but Mabel already seemed more awake.
"You think Grunkle Ford is really sick?"
Dipper nodded, "It's the only thing I can think of, but none of these are mainly used for illnesses, more for injuries."
"But Grunkle Ford isn't hurt." Mabel crawled onto his bed to see his bulletin board covered in notes and page number references.
"I know," Dipper was frustrated, "There's something I'm missing so I need fresh eyes."
"My fresh eyes aren't seeing much," Mabel admitted.
"Of course not, those are my notes so they have the same blind bias. You need to-"
"Dipper please don't say-" Mabel was already looking at the stack of books towering beside his bed.
"Read the source material." He finished and she groaned.
"Why don't we just ask Grunkle Ford?" Mabel pulled Waddles onto his bed without asking and he chose not to mention it so she would be more likely to agree.
"I love Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford, but Mabel you have to agree that they have kept stuff from us before."
"Only when they wanted to keep us safe," Mabel was using her, I think you are becoming obsessed over something that you are blowing way out of proportion voice , and Dipper could feel himself growing defensive.
"They would only do that if there was something dangerous going on!"
"Ok but-" Mabel was resting her cheek on Waddles' head, frowning at him.
Dipper felt it was important to get Mabel on his side. "And if something dangerous is going on how will we know how to keep safe if we don't know what's going on?!"
Dipper's voice had cracked in his frantic interruption and he closed his eyes, waiting for Mabel to tell him he was acting like a paranoid conspiracy nut.
"Ok, which book has the biggest pictures?" Mabel scooped the first few off the stack and held one open for her and Waddles to see.
"Mabel, you're the best!" Dipper pulled out his notebook so he could jot down any thoughts she had that may lead them in a new direction.
"Let's swap books," Mabel called, "If I have to read this professor saying 'I posit that blah blah blah' one more time I'm going to ask Grunkle Stan if there are any chores I can do."
"Just take one from that pile," Dipper answered, not looking up from the fancy leatherbound book he had been hogging all day.
She stood and pretended to look for a new book, but snatched Dipper's up instead . He was grabbing for it right away.
"Mabel, give it back!" His face was red, why was he being so weird about a book? Maybe Grunkle Ford had written it? He was always weird about THE author.
She flipped to the front of the book and froze, giving Dipper a chance to snatch it back.
"That's got the seal of the Northwest Family." He was blushing so hard his ears were red and Mabel exploded.
"Oh my GOD. You love Pacifica! You went to her house. Did you have a reading date?" Mabel could not wait to tell Candy and Grenda and Wendy and anyone else she could think of and then people she couldn't think of right now.
"Mabel!" Dipper definitely knew what she was thinking. "Mr McGucket owns the mansion now, I couldn't have seen her." Did Dipper think she was born yesterday?
"Candy and Grenda told me Pacifica still lives there and her family rents it from him. And I always know when you're crushing on someone, you make it so obvious!"
Dipper clearly couldn't argue with her logic and expert sources. "You make it obvious when you like someone."
"Was that supposed to be a comeback? Telling everyone is part of my signature Mabel move. It helps guys know they don't need to be afraid to ask me out, cause I'll say yes."
"I don't like Pacifica, I even said she was the worst."
"That was last summer. This summer is all about the three F's. Fun, Forgiving and Future Romance!" Mabel would have to make a sweater with the slogan, that would be good luck.
"You just made that up." Dipper was clearly trying to change the subject, but she wasn't to be questioned.
"I did not, it's on my secret summer plan list, which will now include you." She picked up a blank Post-it note and scribbled 'Dipper also find love.'
"I don't think that's a secret, it's your goal every summer." He watched as she stuck it to his board and twisted the red string into a heart around it.
"I'm not selfish," She shrugged, "I'll share my expert matchmaking skills."
"I'm begging you not to." Dipper had so little faith, but he would be proven wrong. She was going to find a match for everyone in the Shack by the end of summer. Her secret list had only really focused on her Grunkles (and she didn't have much hope for Grunkle Stan) but she wanted to make sure when they left Gravity Falls the Grunkles wouldn't be lonely. You could only spend so much time with your twin.
Dropping the subject because she didn't want to bother Dipper that much and she had a lot to think about she grabbed a random textbook and flopped back on her bed.
Dipper was eyeing her for a while as if he wasn't sure how she had given up so easily, but Mabel was eager to finish this nerd book and get to her post-pre-teen magazines. There were months of horoscopes and dating advice that would absolutely be needed now.