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Lakeville, City of Lakes : Chapter 16

Rating: Teen Word Count: 9619 Co-written by: skimmingmilk and syl-writes-stuff Summary: “I have a surprise for you!” “Those words never end well for me.”

–

Nightmares are keeping Dipper from sleeping. In an effort to help him recover from what happened to him in the hideaway of the Society of the Blind Eye, Mabel puts a plan into motion that involves a bit of a change in scenery from their usual summers spent in Gravity Falls. A slow, normal summer spent in Lakeville, city of lakes, full of dates, frog hunts, and fun with friends might be just the thing to take Dipper’s mind off it. Not to mention give him a few extra weeks with his boyfriend and get the comfort he needs in the aftermath of Gideon’s torture. As they get used to this new relationship, it’s ups and downs, Wirt and Dipper also get to begin to piece together the puzzles that make up each other and build upon the foundation they set up in Gravity Falls.

[AO3]

Chapter 16

August was upon them.

It felt like they’d blinked and July was gone. Two and a half weeks blown by and scattered to the banks of their memories like dandelion seeds. Two weeks ago a month had seemed endless. A month had been an eternity compared to three days or a week. A month had been more than enough.

With August’s arrival, Wirt came to the realization that a month wasn’t nearly enough. What had started out as novelty shifted into normalcy. As odd as it had been to have someone other than his little brother share his bed, now he couldn’t imagine his body filling up the space on its own. He couldn’t imagine opening his closet and not finding Dipper’s trademark vest and collection of t-shirts. He couldn’t imagine playful tussles over whether or not to watch a Ghost Harassers marathon or an Addicted to Rehab marathon on HGTV being stripped away from him, even if they almost always ended in Wirt letting Dipper choose the show, providing that Dipper let him use his lap as a pillow. He couldn’t imagine practicing the clarinet without dreamy, lovestruck eyes watching his every move instead of practicing his sousaphone along with him.

He couldn’t imagine a him without Dipper. Not anymore. Or, well, he could. If he tried hard enough, he most certainly could.

But he didn’t want to.

He wasn’t ready.

They’d only been boyfriends for a month - less than that if they only started counting from the day Wirt called him that. Two weeks. Their month was over half-done. They had a week. They were back to one week.

Unfortunately this one lacked the euphoria their first week had. Desperate not to waste any of their remaining time with petty grievances over how unfair it was that they lived on opposite coasts - because that was the way things were, there was no changing that - Wirt kept most of these thoughts confined to a notebook, his musings filling page after page, some poetry, most not, when insomnia came calling, his not as debilitating as his boyfriend’s bout. Trauma hadn’t caused his, only the racing of his thoughts and the need to savor every minute he had left.

Because after this, who knew when he would see him again? He wouldn’t be able to wait until next June, he already knew that. The wait between October to June this past year had been excruciating enough and he hadn’t even known him or Mabel then, not really. August to June, when he loved both of them more than he could say - a true enough sentiment, he couldn’t say it to either of them, he couldn’t even say it to his own brother - would be unbearable. While this month had been so necessary for them, while he wouldn’t trade it for anything, Wirt couldn’t help but wonder if it also did them harm in allowing them to become as comfortable with each other as they had.

Parting in Gravity Falls had seemed possible. Dipper and Mabel leaving Lakeville, city of lakes, seemed anything but. Wirt didn’t want it to be.

The Sunday of their last week, August second, with exactly seven days left found the boys in Wirt’s bedroom, both of them squeezed onto his bed, lying over the green comforter. They’d gone to the library the day before, all four of them, and had returned with a spread of books. Wirt had come away with two poetry books and two of fiction, taking the time to invest himself in Robert Frost while Dipper tapped away at his laptop, pausing every now and then to read up on something, his journals spread out over the both of them. Journal number three was open on Wirt’s stomach, two sandwiched in the sliver of a crevice between their thighs, and one was open, face-down, on Dipper’s chest.

It was the start of a lazy summer afternoon, Wirt balancing his attentions between the verses of Frost and the cadence of Dipper’s breaths as he muttered to himself, unintelligible words hissing between his teeth as they worked on the plastic casing of a pen. The sun was making its way over the house, soon to be shedding its rays through his window and onto the bed. It was easy enough to pretend this wasn’t the start of the end.

Even after three weeks, it was odd to not have a million things chasing Dipper or having a million things to chase after. It was odd not to have Grunkle Stan shouting at them to come downstairs for the latest chore or to have Soos making the oddest bets with him or to have Wendy rolling her eyes at him.

It was still weird to have quiet. Even his twin was off, exploring the town with Greg in the basket of her bicycle. It was the middle of the day - passed it, really - and he was just able to breathe and relax. This, he supposed, was what summers had been before Gravity Falls. Almost.

He looked up from his research, peering at Wirt. His lips moved a little as he read Robert Frost, as though he were tasting the words and the way they flowed. It was adorable and a little more interesting as he hit a lull in his research. He was pretty sure he knew just how they were going to tug aside the veil. It was probably going to hurt like crazy; there was no way around that for him. He wasn’t a proper medium, after all, or even a witch, so he wasn’t designed to be able to hold the veil back. But it was possible, and he would do it for Wirt. And for Greg and, well, for Mabel too. Maybe a little bit for himself.

Decision made - no pain, no gain - Dipper began to steadily inch closer until he could nuzzle and snuggle his boyfriend to distraction. The first journal was set to the side with his laptop, the second closed and nudged closer to the foot of the bed with his foot, and the third shut when he gave up on subtlety and rolled onto his side to lightly nip his neck.

Shimmying up, tossing a leg over one of his boyfriend’s, he kissed the top of Wirt’s nose and grinned a little when it wrinkled. “You’re lucky. You know that?”

“Hm?” He finally lowered his book, turning his head to give Dipper the attention he’d been clearly trying to get. “What? What do you mean?”

“You and just-” He leaned back a bit to wave his hands. “Just all this. Normal summer stuff.”

Wirt’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. “Not too boring for you?”

Dipper tugged his book away, marking the page for him before rolling on top of him entirely. Comfortable with him, he discarded his cap to keep it out of the way so he could hide his face in Wirt’s neck. “I think... I think I really needed some boring. Giant frogs aside, you know?”

Looping his arms around Dipper’s waist, Wirt brushed his lips right beneath his ear. “I can give you boring. I can give you that in spades,” he murmured, smile turning a little sad as he tightened his hold. “That I can promise.”

Dipper huffed out a laugh, fingers curling into Wirt’s sweater. While the nightmares had once again slipped away, he was still wary of their return when they left. He was wary of a lot of things that came with leaving. Losing this - lazy summer afternoons cuddled close - was high up there. Topping the list was simply knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see him after a week. He wouldn’t be able to reach out and find Wirt there. He felt no more ready than he had when he’d had to stand on the porch of the Shack and watch them drive away.

“You’re too interesting to be boring. Your town’s one thing, but not you.” He sighed. “Will you do me a really lame favor, and read to me? Frost’s not bad and I just... I like the way you sound when you read.”

“Oh. You do?” Wirt squirmed some, stopping only when he realized it disrupted Dipper’s hold on him, choosing instead to avert his gaze as if looking for the book he’d taken from him while he traced meaningless circles against his back. “Um… yeah. Yeah, I can read to you.”

“Cool. You get, like, this poetry voice when you read. I like it.” He was going to miss it.

“Poetry voice?” He scrunched his nose as he felt around for the book, tapping the binding against Dipper’s back to get him to move enough so he could keep him in his arms and still be able to read. “I didn’t- I mean, it’s not something I’m doing on purpose or anything. How is it different from my normal voice?” His normal voice cracked just then, and he made a face at himself. Well, there was one way. His voice never cracked when he read poetry. Not if he was engrossed enough in it.

Dipper snorted, ducking his head. “Don’t worry about it. There’s just something about it that’s different.”

“Hm.” Wirt puffed up his cheeks a little as he looked at him with a discerning eye. “Okay, if you say so. Let’s see… there was one I just read that I really liked…” He opened the book to the page Dipper had marked for him, then flipped back two. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, glancing at him once more before starting.

“‘Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.

“‘Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground, And thing next most diffuse to cloud, Not all your light tongues talking aloud Could be profound.

“‘But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed, And if you have seen me when I slept, You have seen me when I was taken and swept And all but lost.

“‘That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.’”

Dipper pressed a kiss to his neck. “When I’m in Piedmont, I’m going to call you some nights and just ask you to read to me. Prepare for that.”

“That doesn’t sound like too demanding of a request. I think I can manage that.” Wirt tilted his head to brush his lips over his bangs. “And I’m going to call you… window tree.” He flashed him a grin, wrapping both legs around Dipper’s.

With a laugh, Dipper nipped his neck instead and wriggled closer. “No way. Never that.”

“Don’t draw a curtain between us, Dipper,” Wirt snickered, doing his part to press up against him. “Not that one would be able to fit. I don’t think there’s any way anything could fit between us right now.”

There’d be too much distance soon. “Good.” He grinned, tilting his head back to brush kisses along his jaw and pushing aside the melancholy mood trying to take hold of him. It wasn’t like they were leaving that day.

“Mmhm.” A contented smile spread lazily over his lips as he let him lavish his attention on him. “Want to hear another one?” Wirt asked him, the hand not holding his book stroked along Dipper’s side.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Dipper shimmied upwards, catching his earlobe between his teeth.

Wirt huffed out a laugh, cheeks warming. “Hey, stop. I won’t be able to focus on reading if you keep doing that.”

“Sure you will. A poetic pilgrim perseveres.” But he did stop, kissing his cheek instead.

“Not when he has an adorable and irresistable boyfriend to kiss,” Wirt pointed out, turning to the next page.

“Well, you're not kissing me, which is starting to be a real problem.”

“Is it?” He turned his head to capture his lips. “That fix it?”

“Mm. It's a good start. But two's better.”

“Can’t argue there.” Wirt kissed him again, letting the contact between them linger as he deepened it by degree, as if each moment they spent kissing would prolong the time they had left together.

It ended as telltale laughter and pounding footsteps could be heard in the hallway. Sighing, Dipper tucked his face into the crook of Wirt’s neck. “Five bucks says they’re coming in here.”

Before Wirt could respond the bedroom door flew open, with Greg attached to the handle with Mabel right behind him. “Wirt! Dipper!” He grinned at them as the frog under his arm croaked. “Get your lazy bums out of bed! We’re going on an adventure!”

The older brother arched an eyebrow as he looked at the pair of them. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

“Says Sara!”

Not the answer he expected, Wirt blinked twice and lifted his head up off the pillow to see them better. “Sara?”

“Yes Sara!” Mabel held up her phone, wiggling it. “Somebody - and by somebody I mean you, Wirt - has been ignoring his phone!”

Wirt blinked, then glanced over at his silenced phone sitting on the nightstand. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to be interrupted.” Not to mention the last time they’d hung out with his friends had ended in a panic attack for Dipper and several days’ worth of tension that he wasn’t too keen on reliving. Not with only a week left. He could see his friends whenever once school started. He wouldn’t be able to see Dipper.

“Luckily you have a little sister who’s more than willing to drag you into the wonderful world outside!”

“I don’t think ‘luckily’ is the right word, Mabel.”

“You think too much and too incorrectly. But come on! Trevor apparently doesn’t believe that you’re as good a pitcher as I told him you were, and Sara got her hands on a radar gun. You haven’t gotten in much practice, Dipdop. You know you want to,” she sing-songed.

Dipper wriggled a bit, suddenly restless. “Mm.”

Wirt pursed his lips in thought and glanced down at his suddenly squirmy boyfriend. “Do you want to?”

“Kind of. I guess. Some.”

“Hm.” Wirt closed his book. He supposed, for a guy that liked to be as busy as Dipper, going out and physically doing something probably held a lot of appeal. Especially since it involved baseball. Even though Jonathan had put up the target out back, Wirt knew it probably wasn’t the same as having someone catch for you. “We can go. If you want. And I don’t know… it’d be fun to watch you pitch.”

“Of course it will be! That’s why I already said yes and they’re expecting us in, um, ten minutes.”

“Oh my god.”

“Come on, boys! Like Greg said, get your lazy butts up! Grab your glove, bro-bro! We’re going to make Trevor eat those words.” Mabel looked down at her phone, smile wide. “Isabelle’s looking forward to that.”

“Isabelle’s a fan of anything that makes Trevor look like a dolt,” Wirt snorted, untangling his legs from Dipper’s as he prodded him in the side to get him moving. “He’s totally only saying that to get someone to play baseball with him. It doesn’t matter to him if you’re good or not, he’s just desperate.”

“I won’t hurt him, then. We’ll have to make him wear some extra padding in his mitt.” Dipper rolled out of bed, set his laptop on the desk and left the journals scattered on the mattress behind him.

Mabel giggled. “Sara just wants to see if you’re half as good at baseball as you are at pool.”

“Oh my god. Are you texting, like, all of them right now?”

“Yes.” She showed him her phone and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t get how you’re basically best friends with all of them. You even have the dweeb in here! Mabel!”

“I keep telling you he’s not a dweeb. He’s harmless. And you know, it’s like dad says. You’d be their friend too if you’d just-” She broke off, both twins faltering for a moment. “I’ll give them your number.”

“Sure. Not the dweeb,” he insisted, snagging a baseball and his ball glove from the top of Wirt’s dresser.

“Oh my gosh, Dipper. You’re so mean.”

Wirt fumbled with his laces, having pulled on two different pairs of shoes, distracted by trying hard not to listen to what they weren’t saying in the conversation while actually, totally listening. “I- I’d rather you not give Jason Funderberker his number, too, Mabel. So… uh… do it for me? Not- not to be mean or anything, but just because…”

“Because of your crippling insecurities?” Greg piped up unhelpfully.

Wirt stared at him for a beat, unimpressed by his deduction. “I wouldn’t put it like that, exactly, but I guess.”

“Don’t worry Wirt, you’ve got tons of stuff that Jason Funderberker doesn’t have!” Greg puffed out his chest. “Like the best little brother in the world. He doesn’t have that.”

Having expected something a little more along the lines of his internal strengths, Wirt couldn’t help the small hitch of a laugh. “Right. You’ve got a point there, Greg. You’re obviously my greatest asset.”

“That’s right. And obviously Dipper’s not going to date somebody who doesn’t have me for a little brother, so you don’t have to worry about Jason Funderberker whisking him away. Right, Dipper?” Greg grinned at him, hoping to bring the fun back into the air for all of them.

“Yeah, Greg. It’s got nothing to do with me liking his cute face and his poetry and his interesting mind.” He grabbed his own sneakers, tugging at the heel since he never bothered to untie them. “I’m totally dating him so you can stay my honorary little brother.”

Hands on his hips, Greg looked back to Wirt. “See?”

“Yeah.” But Wirt’s head was angled away, his cheeks and the tips of his ears red as he smiled shyly. “I see your point. Still don’t want Dipper’s number in Jason Funderberker’s phone though.”

“Fair enough,” Greg conceded.

“I wasn’t going to anyway,” Mabel assured them. “I just texted it to Sara and Trevor to start.”

“May as well send it to Isabelle and Taylor, too. Not like any of them are actually going to-” Dipper broke off, eyes going round as he tugged his phone from his pocket. “Oh.”

“And sent.” Mabel put her phone away, hips swishing side to side in delight. “Now come on, come on! Dipper, you can program them into your phone later. Let’s go!”

Wirt stood up, his hand going to Dipper’s back. “Sorry, guess I should’ve warned you that they’re pretty chatty. Especially Trevor- whoa! Greg!” He was suddenly tugged away, dragged by his little brother out of the room and into the hallway.

“Baseball time! Baseball time!”

Mabel took the opportunity to talk to her brother alone. “I’m sorry, bro-bro. I didn’t mean-”

“It’s cool, Mabel.”

“I know you don’t like when I quote dad, and I know friends are hard for-”

“Mabel, it’s okay.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Seriously. So are we gonna go? We’re running late at this point.”

She studied him for a moment before letting her smile return. Like Greg, she latched on and dragged her brother right off. “Onward!”

----

They met up at the field for the high school. Trevor and Taylor were tossing a ball back and forth while Sara, Isabelle, and Jason Funderberker lounged on the grass of the outfield with an assortment of sodas hoarded between the three of them. They waved them over as they spied the group of four, their greetings attracting Trevor’s attention. When he caught the ball Taylor threw his way, he turned to face them.

“Hey guys!” he called out as he chucked it their way. “Think fast!”

On reflex, it wasn’t the first time he’d been subjected to this, Wirt stumbled forward and caught the ball before it beamed any of them in the head. “Trevor.”

“What? You’re getting better at hand-eye coordination thanks to me.” He grinned and held out his mitt for Wirt to toss the ball back.

He did so, brow furrowed as his cheeks puffed out. “You’re going to kill someone someday.”

“If I do, it’s because they didn’t think fast enough.”

“Hey Trevor! Think fast!” Isabelle threw an unopened soda can at him and it hit him in the thigh as he turned. “Ooh. Sorry. Guess you just didn’t think fast enough.”

Trevor rolled his eyes and stooped to pick up the can. “No one thinks you’re funny, Isabelle.”

“I do!” Mabel disagreed, giggling. “Hi, guys!”

Dipper rolled his eyes, hooking an arm around Wirt’s waist and brushing a kiss to his temple after a quick bob onto his toes. “Nice catch.”

“I take my job as your shield very seriously,” he replied, cheeks dusted with pink as he tried to shrug it off. “Don’t want my boyfriend bruised by my dumb friend, after all.”

“Hey, I can hear you,” Trevor told him.

Wirt stuck his tongue out at him, then gasped and tried to block Dipper with his body when Trevor came at them with the soda, his fingers threatening the tab. “Hey! Hey, hey, no! Not unless it’s sugar free, don’t you dare!”

“Do it! Spray them with soda!” Greg cheered.

“Greg! Who’s side are you on?”

“The side with the most soda, and right now that’s Trevor.”

Not wanting to get sprayed herself, Mabel quickly side-stepped. “Behave, boys.”

Dipper laughed. “Man, you pop that tab and you'll never see me pitch.”

Trevor backed off with a laugh of his own. “Like I’d waste a good- what is this?” He held up the can to actually look at the label. “Orange soda on Wirt.”

“Good to know. Anyway, hopefully you put some padding in your glove. ‘Cause now I'm not going easy on you, man.” Dipper tugged on his mitt and leaned over to kiss Wirt's cheek. “I've got this. Greg, you gonna call numbers for me or are you still being a brat?” he teased, sticking his tongue out at the traitor.

“I want to call the numbers!” Greg waved his arm excitedly while Wirt rolled his eyes. At least he didn’t deny being a brat. “Where’s the thing?”

Sara held up the radar gun. “Over here, Greg.”

He lit up and raced over to take it. “Thanks, Sara! Here, we can trade.” Greg offered her the lucky frog. “You can have Jason Funderburker.”

“Who? Me?” Jason Funderberker croaked, his attention redirected from offering Taylor a soda as she joined them.

Greg scoffed, hands on his hips. “Not you, Jason Funderberker. Jason Funderburker.”

Ro-rop. The frog blinked twice, then stared at the other boy from Sara’s lap. Jason Funderberker blinked back. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Aim for his face, Dipper!” Isabelle called out to him once Greg had the radar gun in hand.

Wirt raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure pitching doesn’t involve aiming at people’s faces.”

“How do you know? Wirt, I’m like, one hundred and fifteen percent certain that you don’t know the first thing about baseball.”

He opened his mouth to refute that, but immediately closed it as he realized she was right and said as much. She and Sara laughed, the latter of the two getting to her feet and dusting off her jeans. She waved Mabel and Wirt over, herding them in the direction she wanted to go.

“Come on, we’ll have a better view from the dugout,” she told them.

Wirt blinked. “The what?”

“The dugout. You know, the place where the batters sit to wait for their turn at the plate?” She clarified, watching as Wirt only blinked again. “Oh my god. Someone is seriously going to have to educate you on baseball terms if you’re going to have a boyfriend who plays.”

“I can teach him!” Trevor offered, handing Dipper the ball after kicking the unopened orange soda can aside.

“He doesn’t need to know the terminology to know that Dipdop’s awesome,” Mabel pointed out. “But they’d totally help since I’m absolutely going to film bits and pieces of his games.”

“Don’t you dare,” her twin warned.

“You’ll never stop me, bro-bro!”

Shaking his head, Dipper only laughed, rolling the ball along his fingers to get a feel for it. He hadn’t really been expecting to pitch on an actual baseball field, so bounced lightly on the mound as he waited for Trevor to take his place. Numbers swirled and the ball abruptly stopped as a pitch clicked. Curve ball to make him think he was going to get hit in the face seemed fair.

“Word of advice, Trevor, don’t move the glove. You don’t have any extra equipment, so if I do hit you in the face, it’ll hurt. Like, a lot. So don’t move the glove unless I tell you to.”

“When he first joined the high school team, he knocked out a senior who didn’t listen to him,” Mabel revealed, perching on the bench and hefting Greg up to sit in her lap so she could help him hold the gun up.

Trevor shot her a thumbs up, crouching down by home plate. He might not have played catcher, but he could respect the position and knew from being hit by the occasional wild pitch as a batter not to mess around. “I got you, Dipper,” he called back to him.

“Have you seen him in action before?” Sara asked Wirt, nudging his shoulder with hers as they sat on the bench beside Mabel.

“Sort of? I’ve seen him throw some practice pitches.” He shrugged as the rest of the group meandered over to watch.

Mabel grinned. “He's been practicing some out back, too, but he throws differently to a catcher. Trevor did put padding in his glove, didn't he?”

Sara and Wirt both looked to Isabelle who merely shrugged her shoulders with a, “Mm-mm-mm.”

“Probably a no then.” Sara deduced, looking back to their friend with what amounted to amused pity.

“Oh boy,” Wirt sighed.

Dipper twisted his cap around before settling into his stance. The first pitch came without warning, his silent stillness erupting into a graceful wave of motion.

The ball clapped loudly into Trevor's glove and 78 lit up on the gun. “Pretty slow, bro-bro!” It wasn't in the slightest, average for a major leaguer, but she loved goading him.

“Shut up, Mabel! First pitch and it was a curve.” He held up his glove for Trevor to throw the ball back his way. “Let me warm up some, geez.”

Whistling lowly, Trevor tossed it back. “Nice, man!” he praised, grinning from ear to ear at the actual, talented player, slanting a glance Wirt’s way. “Dude, your boyfriend’s awesome.”

Wirt sat up straight, his shoulders back as he preened, his own delighted smile all for the boy on the mound while his stomach fluttered with butterflies. “I know.”

Dipper sought him out as he rolled his fingers over the ball, seeking the next pitch. A change-up clicked, his grin all for Wirt while he shifted into his stance and let the ball fly. 84 flashed.

“Here we go,” Mabel said quietly, smile widening.

The group of teens murmured appreciatively while Wirt squirmed on the bench. He’d watched him pitch before to a person, yeah, but that had been before the depths of his crush had been realized. It had been with careful distance that he’d admired the stance and the way his mind flipped through possible pitches. There hadn’t been any grins aimed his way either, not ones bursting with familiarity. Familiarity after only a month. Had it really only been a month? Yes, he’d met him and Mabel in The Unknown, but that wasn’t knowing them the way he did now. A month ago he watched him pitch as nothing more than an acquaintance making good on his promise. Now he was watching him as his boyfriend, as someone who loved him.

Wirt’s lips quirked up in a smaller, but no less fond, smile. They’d moved quickly, almost too quickly for his taste, but they really, kind of had to. The pressure of a week had been upon them, then the aftermath of what had truly been a horrific experience for Dipper - for all of them, but especially Dipper - had called for something a little above and beyond a typical, teen, summer fling. Wirt didn’t really do flings anyway. It wasn’t within his comfort zone for one, and for two, well, there had been too much to know about Dipper to reduce him to something he could only savor in summer. He wanted him for all seasons.

He was brought back out of his reverie when Sara laughed beside him and he blinked at the way Trevor waved his gloved hand and adjusted the mitt after throwing it back to Dipper. “Oh god. I might not know the first thing about catching either, but he’s seriously going to regret this.”

“What position does he play?” Wirt asked curiously. Well-aware of his friend’s love of the game, once he got started on the subject, he used words that Wirt just couldn’t follow for the life of him.

Sara snorted, grinning at him. “Do you even know what positions there are in baseball?”

“Um. Pitcher.” Wirt pursed his lips, nodding in Dipper’s direction. “Oh! And catcher.”

“Oh my god, you look so pleased with yourself.” She clapped him on the back. “Trev plays third base.”

“Right. Of course. That’s the… that’s the third one, right.”

Mabel giggled. “There are nine positions, sweetie. In order by the scorecard, it’s pitcher, catcher, first, second, third, shortstop, left field, center field, right field.” She tilted her head to the side. “I think I lost you after third.”

“No. Shortstop.” Wirt corrected, the nickname Dipper had bestowed on his younger brother finally making sense. Well, aside from the obvious of Greg being short and the number of times he had to tell him to ‘stop.’

“Are you guys trying to teach my boyfriend baseball?” Dipper demanded, trying to pick a pitch other than the fastball his fingers wanted. He didn’t really want to hurt Trevor.

“Emphasis on the word ‘trying,’” Sara called back to him.

“I didn’t even know there was a scorecard for baseball.”

Taylor laughed. “How did you think they keep track of who wins?”

“Well, I mean… I knew they had a points-system, I just didn’t know there was… like an actual card they kept score on,” he explained.

“I didn’t either,” Jason Funderberker chimed in.

Trevor glanced their way. “Wirt, I swear to god if you’re envisioning something like a Yahtzee scorecard, I’m going to have to break off our friendship. Forever.”

His cheeks warmed as they puffed out. “Uh… no? Of course not. Why would I do that? There’s- there’s no dice in baseball. Right?” He looked to Mabel quickly for confirmation.

“Mm-mm. I’ll show you a scorecard when we get home,” she promised. “Come on, Dipdop! What’re you waiting for?”

He muttered under his breath, fingers settling where they wanted. They had told Trevor to put padding in his glove, so it wasn’t technically his fault if this hurt him. Besides, it wasn’t as though he had to pitch that hard. Yeah.

Dipper lined up the throw, and winced when Greg called out 99. “Whoops.”

“Son of a- banana split!” Trevor dropped the ball and removed his glove, waving his hand as if the rush of air would soothe the sting, glaring at the dugout when Isabelle and Sara burst into a fit of giggles. “Shut up, Isabelle!”

“Dipper, you’re seriously the best!” she praised him, giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah! Ninety-nine percent is almost an A plus!” Greg beamed at him.

Dipper rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kind of trying to slow that one down some, but thanks. Probably should’ve gone with a splitter instead of a cutter.”

“Different kinds of fastballs,” Mabel translated, reaching over Sara to pat Wirt’s knee.

“Trev, you want to stop?”

“No.” He shook his head, glancing around the field. “I’m gonna need that soda can back though. Wow, have you got an arm.”

Jason Funderberker grabbed one from their stash and took it over to him. Trevor clutched the cool aluminum, blowing out a short exhale of relief before setting it down at his feet. Reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants, he pulled out the padding he’d ignored earlier and fitted it over his hand. He shoved his mitt back on and picked up the ball, chucking it to Dipper.

“To be fair, you’re like, three times better than any of the pitchers on our team,” he told him, then looked to the dugout. “Wirt! Get him to move in with you so we can have him!”

“Working on it,” Wirt replied, delighted by the attention his boyfriend was getting.

“Really?” Greg’s eyes went wide with excitement.

Heart stuttering a bit, Wirt sagged a bit at the hope his brother exuded. “Not… not really, Greg. Not yet. Not really not yet, but someday? Maybe? Uh…”

Mabel saved him, bouncing Greg in her lap. “Baby, we would absolutely move in if we could. But we’ve got to see our parents. And Waddles! Poor Waddles has been all alone with the grunkles, so we have to go home and rescue him.”

“Oh yeah! You can’t leave Waddles! He’s part of Mystery Best Friends, too!” Greg nodded, in complete agreement with her.

Wirt sighed quietly, shooting Mabel a grateful look. His peace of mind didn’t last long though. He stiffened as the bench dipped a little with the added weight on his other side. Why? Why didn’t he just go back to his original seat? Why was he sitting next to him and not Taylor and Isabelle?

“Hey, Wirt.”

“Hi… Jason Funderberker…”

Mabel prided herself on holding back the burst of giggles when she looked from them to her twin and his narrow eyes. His next pitch was almost violent, and she bit her lip at the 102. “Wellity, wellity, wellity.”

“He’s really good, huh?” Jason Funderberker croaked, leaning towards Wirt to engage him in conversation.

Wirt’s gaze flitted between him and Dipper, fidgeting after being under his narrow-eyed scrutiny and hearing the triple-digit number called out. Straightening his shoulders, he attempted a smile, tried to be at ease and not nervous because Dipper didn’t need to be bothered by total package Jason Funderberker, too. “Yeah. Yeah, he is.” He mentally patted himself on the back. Good, now they could move on-

“I mean, I’m with you. I don’t know much about baseball either, but it’s pretty obvious he has talent,” Jason Funderberker continued.

Wirt rubbed the side of his neck. “Yeah, that’s- I felt- I uh… noticed that, too. First time I saw him pitch. ‘Cause he’s… yeah, he’s good.” He turned his head away to check on Dipper. Really, all he wanted to do was enjoy how awesome his boyfriend was in peace, was that so much to ask?

Apparently. “It’s too bad you won’t get to see him in actual games.”

Too bad didn’t even begin to cover it. “Mmhm.”

“I’ll film him,” Mabel promised, reaching over Sara again to give him a pat. “I go to all his games. And you’ll get to see him in his little baseball uniform.”

Wirt blinked, intrigued by the idea of Dipper in a baseball uniform when another pat to his knee had him jumping and nearly toppling off the bench. “That’d be cool. You should get someone to film you while you’re in marching band to show him, too,” Jason Funderberker suggested.

“Y-yeah. Uh-huh.” He subtly tried to slide away from him.

“Funderberker! Stop hitting on Dipper’s boyfriend! At least not while I’m catching for him. I’m not target practice, you know,” Trevor hollered at him.

Heat rose in Wirt’s face as he slapped his palm to it while the total package beside him blinked in confusion, his hand still on Wirt’s knee. “Huh?”

Mabel lost it, head falling back as she laughed. “Oh my gosh! Trevor!”

“What? I don’t get it.” Jason Funderberker’s brow wrinkled in confusion.

Sara was laughing right alongside Mabel. “Oh, we know. It’s okay, Funderberker.”

“Oh… Wirt?”

Wirt pressed his lips together, eyes closed tightly. “Mmhm?”

“Is it because I’m touching y-”

“Yes, it’s because you’re touching me.”

Torn between being absolutely mortified and furious because the dweeb was still touching him, Dipper kicked at the dirt on the mound and then huffed, giving up. So he was a jealous idiot. Fine. He could be every inch the jealous idiot if it meant Jason Funderberker took his dweeb hands off his boyfriend.

Even if he had to march over to the dugout and half-drag his boyfriend off the bench to claim his lips in a greedy, possessive kiss. “Funderberker, don’t touch my boyfriend,” he grumbled, dropping his cap to Wirt’s head in stubborn claim before striding back to the mound to retrieve the ball and glove he’d left in the dirt.

“You tell him, Dipper!” Sara cheered while Wirt sat back down shakily, heart pounding and head spinning from the kiss.

“Sorry, Dipper,” Jason Funderberker added, very sincere in his croaky apology.

“That was too adorable. Wirt, how did you get such an adorable boyfriend?” Isabelle grinned at him.

Wirt’s lips quirked up in a small smile, his flush still present on his cheeks as he shrugged a little. “I ask myself that same question every day.”

“Okay, that’s obviously why,” Taylor put in, shaking her head.

Mabel patted her heart, still giggling now and then but relieved to see the next pitch come in at a far more mild 95. “Of course that’s why. They’re both really adorable.” She ruffled Greg’s hair. “Ob-waffle.”

“Ob-waffle,” Greg agreed, holding up the radar gun to check the speeds of the next few pitches. “We should all play baseball while Dipper and Mabel are still here. Like a real game!”

“Trev’s got bats and stuff, and I’ve got a few extra gloves,” Taylor chimed in, smiling at him. “It could be fun. When do you guys head back?”

“Sunday.” Mabel’s smile wanted to be sad, but she wrestled it away. “We could play now. Not like we had anything big planned for today. Dipper and Wirt have been lazing around all morning.”

Wirt’s brow furrowed. “We were reading. Well, I was reading. Dipper was researching.”

Sara chuckled, elbowing him in the side. “Come on, Wirt. You can read whenever you want. We’ll split the teams fairly.”

“But we have an odd number of people,” Greg pointed out.

“Trevor!” Isabelle waved to get his attention. “Go home and get your baseball bats and your sister so we can have an even number of players!”

“What?”

“We’re gonna play baseball!” Greg chirped. “Can I be catcher? I want to be catcher!”

“Only if you’re not on Dipper’s team.” Taylor gave him a pat on the head.

Greg puffed out his cheeks, the crease in his brow matching Wirt’s. “Aw, beans. That’s a tough call.” He looked from hand to hand, weighing his options as he held onto the radar gun. “Catcher or Dipper. Catcher or Dipper… who’d be the pitcher on the other team?”

Sara shrugged and raised her hand. “I’m game if no one else is. Or Wirt, maybe you should pitch.”

He snorted. “Yeah, no. That’s a terrible idea.”

“I’ll pitch,” Mabel volunteered. “As long as Dipper actually agrees to let us hit the ball sometimes.”

“Maybe.” Amused, all for a game, Dipper left his glove on the mound and tossed the ball hand to hand. “If I get Wirt on my team.”

“You say that now.” Wirt couldn’t help his smile as he warned his boyfriend. “Just remember all the things you like about me while we’re playing, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Wirt. You’re about to get a crash course in baseball, and you’ve got the best defense on your team. We’ll be fine.”

Isabelle went with Trevor to collect the rest of the gear they’d need to play while the remaining teens plus Greg divided themselves into two teams of five. Dipper was named captain of his team and Mabel the captain of the other. Greg happily joined Mabel’s team alongside Jason Funderburker and Jason Funderberker. Taylor also joined their team, naming Isabelle their fifth player. Dipper, Sara, and Wirt comprised the other team, to be joined by Trevor - who was the only one the entire group decided should catch for Dipper - and his little sister, Kaylee.

“So we’ll have three fielders covering right, center, and left, and then pitcher and catcher,” Sara explained. “So Dip’s our pitcher, Trev’s catcher, center should go to his sister and then you and I can cover part of center as well as left and right. You have a preference, Wirt?”

“Uh… left, I guess.” He shrugged, siding with his dominant hand.

“Okay, so that means you’re basically third base and left field.”

“Right.”

“No, I’m right. You’re left,” she teased, chuckling when he swatted her with a glove.

“We should have team names!” Greg declared to all of them. “That’s the best part of all sports. Picking the team name!”

Mabel ruffled his hair. “How about Magical Tigers?”

“Yeah!”

Sara grinned at him, then looked to her two teammates. “What should we be?”

Wirt tugged on the bill of Dipper’s hat as he rocked back on his heels with a small smile of his own. “The Happy Honeybees.”

“Oh my god, Wirt. We’re the Hornets. It’s a hornet costume-”

“The Happy Honeybees,” he repeated, then laughed when she shoved his shoulder.

Sara rolled her eyes. “We’re not going to be the Happy Honeybees. I’d name our team the Nerd Gnomes first.”

That got Wirt to stop laughing, his cheeks puffing out as she turned the tables on him. “I wasn’t a gnome.”

“I’m sorry, man, but I’ve seen gnomes. You so were.”

“I wasn’t a gnome,” he repeated, crossing his arms. “It was my Halloween costume, I think I’m the best judge of just what I was exactly.”

Greg tilted his head, talk of gnomes having drawn him into their conversation. “But Wirt, you said you didn’t even know what you were!”

“Well, I know it wasn’t a gnome.”

“How about you guys be the feisty kittens?” Mabel teased.

“No way,” Dipper protested.

“Ferocious kittens?” Greg suggested with a smile.

Sara grinned back at him, nudging Dipper with her elbow. “Fabulous kittens,”

“Fearsome kittens.” Jason Funderberker joined in.

“I’ll quit this team,” Dipper threatened.

“Two of those suggestions weren’t even from our team.” Wirt wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on top of Dipper’s head. “You can’t leave me alone with them, Dipper. What do you want to call our team?”

“Uh.” For a moment, Dipper didn’t quite know what to say. His hands flailed a bit before resting on Wirt’s arms, color seeping into his cheeks as he leaned into him. He couldn’t even tug his hat down to hide the blush since it was still on his boyfriend’s head. His tall boyfriend. It wasn’t as though Dipper wasn’t always aware that there was a height difference, but it had never hit him quite like this and right in front of everyone - seriously? “Y’know. Just. Whatever you want to go with is cool. I don’t care.” Because his brain had simply short circuited.

Wirt tried to look down at him, ending up pressing his lips to his hair instead. “You don’t care?”

“I got it.” Sara nodded to herself. “We should be axolotls.”

“Okay, that I can totally get behind. That’s a billion times better than anything kitten related.”

Sara shrugged. “Alright then, but seriously, man, what’s with all the kitten-hate?”

“Because when Dipper-”

Mabel broke off on a squeal, her twin putting her in an immediate headlock and clapping a hand over her mouth. “No reason. Nope.” She licked his hand, which was gross but he held fast. She’d made him break away from Wirt’s hold and that deserved as much punishment as the embarrassing fact she’d been about to share.

“Oh my gosh, there’s totally a reason,” Jason Funderberker snickered and Wirt glowered at him while he wasn’t looking.

“No, you know, if Dipper says there’s no reason, then there’s no reason,” he defended his boyfriend.

Sara and Taylor both shot him disbelieving looks. “There’s no way you actually believe that. You’re just trying to score brownie points with your boyfriend,” the former teased.

Wirt crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “I… am completely okay with that assumption.”

“And I’m totally okay with giving him all the points.” Dipper released his sister, only to immediately regret it as she socked him in the shoulder.

“Adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, yes, I know I’m adorable,” Trevor called out as he and Isabelle returned to the field bearing bats and gloves and their extra player. “Probably the most adorable person here.”

Jason Funderberker went to help them with the bats. “Only in your dreams, maybe.”

“No way. Wirt, c’mon man, back me up.”

Wirt fiddled with the pine tree cap still on his head, smile sheepish. “Sorry, Trevor. Afraid I can’t this time. Not when there’s obviously someone else here who’s clearly the most adorable.”

“Oh, we all know who you think is the most adorable, Wirt. You’ve made it completely obvious.” Taylor gave him a pat on the head as she still towered over him. “Funderberker.”

“Exactly- wait what! No!” Flustered, Wirt scowled at her as his cheeks puffed up.

“Aw, Wirt, you don’t think I’m the most adorable?” Jason Funderberker played along.

“Oh my gosh.” Wirt buried his face in his hands. “No, Jason Funderberker. For obvious reasons.”

“Trevor, it is now my life goal to make sure your hand hurts for the entire month. Padding or no padding.”

“What did I do?” Trevor pressed his hand over his heart as he gaped at Dipper, appearing wounded. “How was I supposed to know that ‘adorable’ wasn’t in reference to me? Besides, Wirt set himself up for that.”

“I did not!”

“Trevor, I'm pretty sure no one's ever made the mistake of calling you adorable," Mabel teased

“Well, there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?” He shrugged, then laughed as Wirt shuffled over to Dipper and slumped against him.

He sighed heavily, longing for the peace of his bedroom that they’d had not an hour earlier. “Still want to quit the team?”

“Dude, yes. Let’s abandon them.”

“Forfeit means we win,” Mabel pointed out.

“It’s not forfeit.”

“Mmhm. You’re team captain, Dipdop. If you quit, it’s a forfeit and my team wins. Alpha twin!”

Dipper glared at her.

Wirt tapped the top of Dipper’s head with the bill of his own cap. “I’ll kiss you a lot if you forfeit,” he bargained.

“Hey, no bribery, Wirt, it’s against the rules,” Sara chuckled.

He tapped him twice more. “Lots and lots of kissing.”

“C’mon, man, Trevor and Isabelle just brought us all this gear. You seriously can’t just ditch.”

“Yeah, but lots of kissing is a really good deal.”

Wirt tipped back the cap so he could press his lips to his neck. “So much kissing,” he promised.

Isabelle swatted Wirt's shoulder with a glove. “You're playing. I didn't put up with a ten minute walk with his highness for nothing.”

“You wanted to come! You volunteered!” Trevor reminded her, handing Mabel and Greg their gloves.

Mabel tucked hers under her arm, giggling as she fetched a coin from her pocket. “You two are playing. It’s settled. Heads or tails, bro-bro?”

He brushed a kiss to Wirt’s temple just under the hat’s lining. “Heads.”

“Tails!” Greg called out. “I want tails!”

Wirt snorted, then lifted his head to raise his eyebrow at his brother. “You are tails, Greg.”

“I know. I’m just making sure everyone knows I’m happy with this decision.”

Dipper’s laugh was cut off when Mabel called “Tails!” And then it was her turn to laugh, sticking her tongue out at him. “We’ll take the field first. You guys can bat.”

“Crap.”

“No worries, Dip.” Trevor clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re looking at the guy who’s got the highest batting average on the team.”

“He’s right,” Isabelle chimed in with a sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Leaving his hand on Dipper’s shoulder, Trevor raised one fist to the air. “I’ll carry us through to victory.”

“Oh, thank god. So between your offense and my defense, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Don’t get cocky, bro-bro.” Mabel wagged her finger at both of them, grinning. “I know you can’t hit a ball to save your life, and Wirt’s probably never even held a baseball bat before. So there’s two automatic outs. You just have to hope that the rest of your team is good.”

Wirt tugged on Dipper’s hat, cheeks puffing out a little. “I’ve held a bat. I played Little League. For a year.”

Trevor shot him a sympathetic smile. “Dude, you didn’t hit the ball once. Ever. You were the bench warmer. But it’s all good, you made up for it on the field. Sort of. Sometimes.” There was a beat of silence. “To be fair, you were six and scared of everything that moved, so…”

“Thanks, Trevor.”

“Wirt, I didn’t know you played Little League.” Sara bumped their shoulders together, eyes narrowing. “You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you?”

“So many secrets.” He confirmed, nodding as seriously as he could manage. “Six was a dark, dark time for me.” While it was intended to be a joke, his voice low and teasing, he felt his heart twist a bit at the realization that that wasn’t entirely untrue. Instead he bumped Sara’s shoulder back and removed the baseball cap to tuck back on Dipper’s head. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I did for Teddy Grahams.”

“I can. You’re a sugar fiend, man. I can only imagine the horror you were as an uninhibited child,” Trevor jabbed as he swung a bat over his shoulder. “But enough reminiscing, let’s play some ball.”

“Alright, alright.” Dipper twisted his cap around, fingers stilling on the bill as he realized he’d just wandered around without it. And without thinking about it. Around people. He met Wirt’s gaze, surprise melting into a grin. “Let’s do this.”

It was a fairly evenly matched game, despite Dipper’s pitching prowess and Trevor’s ability to get on base at every at-bat as Taylor utilized her own skills from years of playing softball and Mabel and Greg’s enthusiasm riled up the Magical Tigers into taking the lead twice.

Wirt’s crash course in baseball did very little to help him assist his team, but during his third time at the plate, his flinch coincided with his swing enough for him to make contact - and maybe Mabel wanted to see if he could hit the ball - and it happened to fall and bounce somewhere near Jason Funderberker's feet, the total package unable to catch it. Wirt had stared at the ball dumbly for a second before Greg was tugging on his arm - “You're supposed to run to first base, Wirt!” - and encouraging him to run despite not being on the same team. He hadn't made it home, and it was the only time he got on base, but he was pleased with himself just the same. And the kiss he’d received from his boyfriend as he met him on the mound while returning to the field.

Greg on the other hand got several good hits off Dipper, the pitcher purposefully giving him the best angles and speeds. Both teams cheered on the two younger kids, Trevor giving Greg a “super high five!” when he got to home plate and scored a run for the Magical Tigers. Kaylee even got a few hits in, though the fellow seven-year-old fouled off Mabel more often than not.

As the shadows grew beneath them and the heat got to the teens and children and lucky frog alike, the Axolotls took the game at the top of the ninth inning by two runs, Trevor hitting Sara and himself home. Hot and tired, but ultimately in good moods all around, they gathered the bats and gloves and searched for lost balls in the overgrown outfield, having just as much fun tossing the ones they found back and forth between each other. Isabelle, Taylor, and Mabel flopped down in the grass, the three girls relishing in the occasional breeze that blew by, claiming that winners deserved to do all the work.

“Winners who have a pool should also invite everyone over to cool off and feed them pizza,” Isabelle piped up, arms pillowed under her head as she closed her eyes against the clouds and blue sky.

Trevor laughed, trying to juggle three of the baseballs and ultimately failing. “You know you guys are always welcome to come over and swim. I don’t need to invite you. And if somebody else pays for the pizza, I will gladly order it.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Jason Funderberker offered croakily.

Taylor snorted, reaching her hand out to him. “Funderberker, the whole point is to get the winners to do things for us.”

“Oh, right.”

Sara held both her hands up. “I’ll chip in, but I’m not paying for everyone’s pizza,” she told them, glancing Wirt’s way, her gaze roving over his face and the way he held his shoulders as he toyed with the mitt he was still holding onto, rolling it in his hands as he rubbed over the seam between the thumb and index finger relentlessly. Her eyes narrowed when he said nothing and his expression was surprisingly blank considering it was Wirt, then she shifted her gaze to Dipper.

He was already looping an arm around Wirt’s waist, lifting up to press a kiss just beneath his ear. “We don’t have to swim, man. It’s okay,” he murmured. “We can be lazy winners and eat pizza on the sidelines.”

Wirt hummed, eyes drifting to the side so he was in his line of sight. “It’s fine. You can swim. It’s not a big deal.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “Don’t want to spoil your fun.”

“You won’t. I like being with you.” And they only had a week left. “So it’s fine. Unless you’re thinking you just want to go home?”

He did. And he didn’t. His internal conflict warred in his gaze as he bit down on his lip. “Mm-mm-mm. Don’t want to spoil their fun either,” he murmured, nodding towards the rest of the group. “And today’s been fun. I had fun, you looked like you had fun, so I don’t really mind hanging out longer, but…” Wirt puffed up his cheeks and blew out slowly. “No, it’s fine. We’ll go for a little bit. Unless you want to go home.”

“Nah, not really. I mean, your friends are...” Dipper ducked his head. “I don’t know. They’re great. You’re lucky. So, um, we can go for a little bit, and when you’re ready to go just let me know. Okay?”

Lucky? Wirt blinked, his grip on the glove lessening as he let go with one hand to brush a stray curl back under his cap and behind his ear. Sure, he was still surprised and flabbergasted to say the least that he actually had this group of people he could call friends - who called him their friend in return - and he thought that he himself was lucky, but why would Dipper? It didn’t really make much sense.

Unless Dipper knew what it was like to be the kid without friends. The awkward interaction between the twins before they left flitted back into his mind and his hand slid down to the back of his neck to knead gently. They’d stay the whole time. He could handle it.

“Okay.” Wirt smiled at him and bumped their hips together. “And you know… Trevor doesn’t just have a pool. He’s got a hottub, too.”

He glanced up, whatever melancholy that tried to shake him banished in favor of a bright grin. “Are you offering to hang out with me in a hottub, boyfriend o’ mine?”

Wirt puffed out his cheeks innocently. “I’m just saying that I don’t particularly have a problem with hottubs. And that there would be one there. That we could sit in. Together. Yes, I’m offering to hang out with you in a hottub.”

“Nice.” He bobbed up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I got pizza, guys,” was said to the entire group. “As captain of the winning team and all.”

A resounding cheer erupted from the group and Dipper was met with a fist bump from Trevor, a clap on the back from Taylor, and squeeze to the shoulder from Sara, along with a grateful look cast his way as Wirt eased up enough to smile and laugh along with their antics as they packed up to leave the field. They’d accepted him and Mabel from the moment they met them at the mall, but it was definitely something to see the way they’d welcomed them with open arms, Wirt noted as he made sure the two younger kids didn’t fall behind. Hanging out with friends, an impromptu baseball game, and relaxing - sort of - in the pool with pizza as the late afternoon turned to evening, it was all normal summer stuff and Wirt was happy to give that to Dipper. He deserved it, after all.

---

A/N: Wirt's friends are too much fun to write, so we had to include them at least one last time in this fic. Even total package Jason Funderberker.

Plus, who doesn't love adorable nerd boyfriends doing summer things and baseball? All the baseball, all the time.

#lcol

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