#blurpsies

A while ago, when the sun had yet to liven up the day, Norman arrived at the Mystery Shack with a red backpack around his shoulders and two hands buried inside his front pockets. Dipper had a blanket around him. He was squinting, as sleep still weighed in his head. When he realized who was standing in front of him, his squint morphed into wide eyes.

Dipper jumped him, hugged him, held his cheeks so he could look closely, to make sure it was really him.

There was no denying that it was, so Dipper pulled him in. Norman was seated on the couch, legs apart, hands balled together as if in prayer, while Dipper proceeded to make a mess out of the hot water and the 3-in-1 coffee powder. He wiped the table, handed a cup to Norman, and ran back to the kitchen.

In the pantry, he found a box of pancake mix. Figuring out the instructions took thirty minutes. Making the pancakes took another thirty minutes.

When he returned to the living room, plate of fluffy pancakes in hand, he found a cup coffee spilled on the rug, and a lanky man sleeping soundly on the couch.

Dipper sighed. He sat by Norman's feet. He took his fork and started eating what he made. “Hm,” he went. “This isn't bad at all.”

He ate the pancakes with syrup and butter; he drank a tall cup of coffee. He still ended up sleeping, slumped down on the floor, back against the couch. When Norman shook his shoulder, it was already noon, the sun already shining, the summer's day already hot.

  +

  It was at two in the afternoon on the hot summer's day when Dipper Pines fell on the grass, face first. They were supposed to be watching out for little green men who were living on the branches of a tree. They were supposed to stand still and wait so they could take pictures for Dipper's website.

Before Dipper suggested that they go to the woods, they had lunch with Mabel at Greasy's Diner. She asked why Norman was here all of a sudden, “Didn't you say you couldn't come this year?”

“Well—” Norman scratched his head, and Dipper stared at him, was tempted to grab his hand, was tempted to spill the beans to Mabel, who knew nothing of the nature of Dipper and Norman's relationship.

Which was not platonic. It was, in short: romantic.

“He just managed to fit this in his busy schedule,” Dipper said, laughing with a tremble, while patting Norman's shoulder.

Mabel chuckled, and took a sip of her coffee.

Dipper gulped.

As soon as they finished, and as soon as Mabel left, Dipper and Norman headed for the woods.

They were walking when Dipper asked, “You know those green men I told you about a few months ago?”

Norman sneaked his hand to join Dipper's. “Yeah, why?” he said.

“I think I know where to find them,” Dipper answered. He smiled, and he tightened their hold on each other.

The woods was well-lit by the sun, its rays jutting through the branches. The pine tree reached past fifteen feet. Dipper held on to his disposable camera, and he made Norman hold on to one as well. They stood there. They stood for a whole hour, without any results. The leaves rustled; a deer ran by them. Norman snapped a shot of the deer, and then he sighed.

“This is useless,” Norman grumbled. He turned to Dipper, and he set his forehead on Dipper's shoulder.

Dipper continued to stare up at the tree, still hoping he'd see what he went here for: the green little blobs, with big eyes, tiny feet, and tiny hands.

Norman put his arms around Dipper's waist.

“What do you think you're doing?” Dipper said.

With all his strength, Norman lifted Dipper up.

“Fuck—”

Norman tossed him around, effortlessly, through a slight gust of wind. The cameras fell to the ground. Dipper yelled and went round and round, all the trees passing through his now blurry sight.

Dizziness started storming through Dipper's head. He tried to push himself out of Norman's arms, but to no avail. Though after a nudge of the knee near the nuts, he was released. Norman let him go, and he covered his crotch with his hands.

Dipper held his head, wanting to ease out his dizziness. He managed to walk, towards Norman, in an attempt to give him a punch in the chest.

Instead, he found himself tripping on a rock. And thus he found himself falling down on the grass, face first, on this hot summer's day.

  +

  Norman crawled on the grass so he could stay beside Dipper. He helped Dipper turn himself around, and he helped Dipper breathe. Norman sat down, and he helped Dipper do the same.

“Sorry 'bout that,” Norman said, his smile small and sweet.

“No worries,” Dipper sighed, folding his knees against his chest.

Norman tucked his lips together. He breathed out. “Let me make it better,” Norman said, leaning in.

Dipper's eyes widened. He made cross out of his arms to block Norman's way.

“Stop. Wait a minute,” Dipper went.

“What? Is there—A problem?” Norman visibly gulped.

“Handkerchief,” Dipper said. “Gimme.”

Norman did as he was told, giving Dipper a handkerchief. Dipper wiped his face. He took the dirt off his lips. He cleaned the sweat off his forehead.

“Okay,” Dipper said. They smiled at each other. Dipper hesitated before he grabbed Norman's arm, leaning in for a kiss. “Lay it on me.”

As always, the kiss was soft, and chaste. Dipper could still taste the grass on his own tongue.

When they part, a grin spread on Dipper's cheeks. He placed a hand on Norman's shoulder. He grinned, though he couldn't look directly into Norman's eyes.

Dipper's grip on Norman's arm tightened. “Fuck,” he went, as he looked down. “Fuck.”

Norman wrapped his arms just below Dipper's shoulders. He gave Dipper quick kisses on the cheek and on the lips. “God, Dipper,” he said, smiling, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I missed you.”

Again, they kissed, on this hot summer's day.

Norman was sweating, and Dipper smelled the fading cologne on his skin. Dipper let Norman kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, on the lips, on the cheeks, near the neck. Dipper had a hand on Norman's hair and another on Norman's back as he was kissed, as Dipper kissed him back.

Dipper pushed him down. They rolled around the grass, laughing, kissing each other, Dipper tasting more and more of Norman's breakfast, of the hint of coffee on Norman's tongue.

They settled down, Dipper lying on his back on the grass, with Norman pushing his weight on Dipper's body. Still, they kissed, with Dipper sneaking his hands into Norman's shirt.

This was how they spent their afternoon: the blanket of trees helping to conceal them, each other's kisses overwhelming them, smiles spreading on their cheeks.

+

At night, an extra bedroom was locked with a bang and a click. “It's a guy thing, Mabel. You can't come with us,” Dipper said, to which Mabel replied with a smile, a nod, and an eye roll.

The moon, that night, was bright through the window. The boys cuddled under its kind light. Dipper had the journal open, and he read aloud the details of his first encounter with the little green men, while Norman listened, while he set his chin on Dipper's shoulder and half his clothed body on Dipper's torso. The truth was, this was all they did that night, until they fell asleep.

The hot summer's day closed in on itself, warmly, hiding behind the moon. Ears were lent; nods of understanding were constantly given, to everything Dipper said. Dipper thought it was nice, and cute, how Norman yawned and how his eyes drooped low, but still he listened, fighting away his sleep.