Dipper quivered at the press of Bill's lips to his cheek, squirmed at the thought of being controlled. That's what this was: control. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't let himself forget that that's what the demon was truly after, no matter how he phrased it. He was trying to phrase this like Dipper had a choice, like he had at least some ability to change his mind in the matter. Honestly he was starting to grow frightened of saying no to the demon.
But his touch was so warm, and the need to know what knowledge he possessed was so tempting . . . .
Dipper closed his eyes as Bill's tongue skated over the shell of his ear, the demon practically panting as he watched Dipper begin to cower at his offer. Would it be so hard? To submit? To be enslaved? From what Bill described, it should be easy. Dipper could continue as he typically did, he could solve all the mysteries and be the hero of the town. That was all he'd ever wanted. He had just never imagined Bill would be the one providing him with the knowledge that would give him that kind of power. He never imagined he'd even consider an arrangement like this. He had also never imagined enjoying the way Bill's hands could tease him, work him open, make him beg and plead . . . .
It wasn't fair. It simply wasn't fair how easily Bill had sneaked back into the forefront of his mind without the courtesy of letting him know that his dreams hadn't been dreams at all, but real and just . . . he was afraid. He was excited and afraid, and he didn't know what to do in this situation. Every fiber of his being was screaming no, but the memory of Bill's touch told him to accept this offer. Not fair, he continued to think. He hated how easily he was giving in to this . . . seduction.