DipperXDipper fanfic

                Dipper stared at the copying machine for a minute, debating in his mind whether he should go through with his plan. He knew that if he made another clone of himself, he'd have to destroy it, sooner or later. After all, he certainly couldn't let another boy that looked exactly like him run around, especially with his clones' tendencies to melt at the slightest contact with any liquid. However, the death of Tyrone had affected him in a way that even he hadn't noticed at first. Initially, he shrugged off his clone's demise as easy as he shrugged off the other nine clones' deaths. Or was it seven clones that had melted? Either way, he went along his daily life as usual.

        After a week, though, he noticed that while Mabel had made three friends her age, Dipper had none. Yes, Wendy and Soos were great buddies, but he had no one to connect to, in that way that young men do. He couldn't have an impromptu wrestling match with Mabel. He couldn't rib Mabel about a cute girl she was staring at, all while thinking about how nice that girl looked. He couldn't race Mabel through the woods at high speed, first attempting to be cautious of trees, bushes, and animals, but then temporarily losing all inhibitions as she darted past him. Oh, how he tried to do these with her. Mabel, being the hyper girl she is, was up for physical activity, but she always stopped after taking an accidental stiff lariat, or hurting her back after receiving a sloppy body slam. Of course, she was boy crazy, making her easy to tease, but harder to sympathize with. And whenever he raced Mabel, they would be neck-to-neck, but he wouldn't feel any real reason to throw all caution to the wind and burst forward through the wilderness.

        Dipper had always thought that these were merely fantasies of a perfect friend, but those precious few minutes with Tyrone on the roof of the Mystery Shack had felt like a dream come true.  Watching shooting stars, drinking soda, discussing feelings in a way that didn't get dramatic. It was simply wonderful. And as he sat alone in his room on a Saturday afternoon, inspecting a strange stone with glowing runes, he thought about that glorious feeling of pure friendship as he heard Mabel and her friends laugh while they took turns shooting empty soda cans with her grappling hook. However, when he looked back on this occasion, he started to feel a bit strange. He remembered how handsome Tyrone was, even if he was his clone. He thought about the strange-but-nice papery smell that overcame him whenever he inhaled deeply while sitting close to him.

        He thought about all of the things that made him love being around Tyrone until he realized his true feelings. It hit him like a truck, and he mentally tried to wave his thoughts away. But eventually, he admitted to himself that he had loved Tyrone.

        Loved? No, that's too strong', he thought to himself. 'I mean, he's nice, and I wouldn't mind... You know... Maybe... Kissing him? NO! NO NO NO! Ugh, that's disgusting! What wrong with me? I mean, he's me! And besides what about Wen-... Oh, right.

        He remembered that Wendy was taken, and that he know had no chance with her, even though he barely had a chance with her to begin with. Thinking more and more about his crush on Tyrone, and his situation with Wendy, he started to hatch a plan. The copy machine! It's still on! Maybe... If it's still loaded with ink...

        Two minutes later, he was standing in front of the broken down machine, pondering about what he should do. He almost gave up on his plan, when the thought of being able to see his best friend again popped into his head. Even without all of the emotional and hormonal pangs he felt about this whole situation, he knew that his clone was the only person who really knew what he felt. So, with this burst of emotion, he quickly climbed on top of the machine and jammed his hand on the copy button. The machine emitted light for a few seconds as it rumbled and made the sound of a tractor running over another tractor. The rumbling and light subsided in moments as a life-sized paper cut-out in the shape of Dipper flew out.

        For a few seconds, the only sounds that could be heard was the fluttering and crinkling of paper, as it stood upwards started shaping itself, all whilst gaining an extra dimension. Dipper held his breath, until what was formerly a sheet of parchment was now a living replica of himself. He stared at this new creation, his heart filling with emotion as his new clone stared back. “Tyrone... You're back!”, Dipper Classic burst out, feeling as if he had regained a missing piece of himself. “I-I can't believe this! I mean, I knew it was going to work, it had to, but still! Oh man, all the things you've missed! Like when Rumble McSkirmish almost killed Robbie, or when Gideon-”

        “I'm not Tyrone, Dipper.”, the clone dejectedly said to the enthused boy. This simple statement completely shut down Dipper, leaving his staring confused at his counterpart. After a moment, Dipper nervously replied, “Wait, what? I mean, you're just like me, and Tyrone was just like me, so it's logical that-”. And then it hit him. Tyrone, even thought he was a clone, could be reproduced perfectly, just how Dipper himself could never really be replaced by a clone. Oh, a new clone may act, talk, and even feel the way Tyrone did, but they would never have memories of helping Dipper attempt to woo Wendy. They wouldn't remember the feeling anger when the boy he was cloned from strayed to far from their plans. None of them would feel the true joy of watching shooting stars with a boy you secretly pine for. The revelation that Tyrone was gone forever hit the boy hard. Before he knew it, he heard the faint pitter-patter of tears hitting floorboards. He quickly wiped him face with his shirt, and turned of the waterworks, but the damage had been done, and he couldn't help feeling as if he had a chunk of his very being missing. Melodramatic? Of course. In fact, he felt shame for letting this even affect him this badly. What sort of man cries over his clone? Apparently, a twelve-year old man that wears a hat with a blue tree on every day does.

        Suddenly, in the middle of his emotional reverie, he felt a faint pressure around his chest. Snapping back to reality, he realized that his clone was hugging him. Surprised, Dipper pushed his doppelganger back, embarrassed by this turn of events. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, man.”, said the original, trying to preserve his, at this point, non-existent manliness. “I was just... uh... having an allergy... attack?” Oddly enough, this masterfully crafted excuse didn't sway the clone. “Dipper, I know what you're feeling, man. And I know you need this.” The clone then opened his arms, signaling for Mr. Classic to receive his daily ration of love. Dipper stood there awkwardly, pondering his choices for a few seconds. As he began to mentally debate this situation, he looked up at his clone, so eager to make Dipper feel better about his loss. And as he noticed this, all doubts began to fade from him as he realized that although he lost Tyrone, he had someone else who cared for him, understood him, and shared his feelings. He instantly dove into the open hug, firmly squeezing his double. They spend the next few minutes like this, arms around each other, afraid of what would happen next. Dipper was getting ready to break the hug, when he felt a dry peck on his cheek. Hurriedly, he relinquished his hug, staring at his clone. The clone, under the gaze of his predecessor, nervously scratched the back of his head, muttering, “Well, you know you were thinking about doing that too, right? It's-”. Dipper silenced his lookalike with his lips, pressing them firmly against his duplicate's mouth.

        What Dipper felt next can best be described as an emotional explosion. Fear, love, worry, relief, and many more emotions erupted in his mind as he massaged the back of his clone. The doppelganger and the original then began to kiss each other dryly all other each other. Necks, cheeks, stomachs, and chests all felt the soft lips of a boy and his copy gently dragging their mouths all over each other. For 3 minutes, they  held each other and enjoyed the sweet sensations of digits and lips stroking their bodies. Soon, the boys were tired by their amorous show of passion, and they laid with each other, both of them having shed their shirts during their frisky romp. In the aftermath of these festivities, Dipper tried to think about what had just happened, but as his double curled up and snuggled into his chest, he decided that, just this once, maybe he wouldn't try to think.