Hung like a Horse

by DatOneAuthor

Summary:

Ford took drastic measures to protect himself, his mind, from Bill. The consequences of that decision led to an unexpected reconciliation

Notes:

⚠️ MAJOR WARNINGS!! ⚠️

This is basically straight up zoophilia. Horse cock Ford is real so that's not your thing, back out of the page

Stan sighed as he took in the sight of the beautiful lake in the little backwater town of Gravity Falls. It would probably be prettier in the daytime, but Stan didn't have time to wait. 

 

Raising the original postcard he got, one with the words ‘Please Come’ written in what he assumed was urgency. Ford was never anything less than well spoken after all. So he came running, damn whatever he had going on. Not like it was anything important, just trying to survive another day and avoid his debt collector. The lack of Ford being home only drove his worry higher. Then he found another postcard on the kitchen table when he stumbled in there. A picture of the lakefront this time, and another two words. ‘Please Come’.

 

So here he was, in the middle of the night. The sight was nice, but it would be even better with a brother. 

 

“Ford!” Stan cupped his hands around his mouth, calling for his twin. “Ford! Stanford!” 

 

Getting increasingly desperate, Stan began walking, then running, around the edges of the lake, still screaming for his twin. He really hoped no one lived close by, he couldn't deal with the cops right now. Especially as he spotted several unattended boats bobbing in the water, just off the small pier. Running towards it, Stan undid the ties on the closest one, a small rowboat that looked like it would be able to handle the weight of two people. Frantically pushing off, Stan rowed with all the strength his arms allowed, making his way to the center of the lake. 

 

“Ford! Stanford!” He cried, out of breath from his rowing but refusing to stop. “Stanford! Answer me please!” 

 

His throat hurt from the screaming, from panting from the tears choking him and burning his eyes. 

 

“STANFORD!” 

 

A splash sounded behind him. 

 

Spinning around so fast he nearly capsized the boat, Stan searched the water. Squinting in the dark, Stan was amazed he managed to spot a slowly sinking object. Reaching over so far that water tipped into the boat, Stan shivered at the cold but he did snag whatever it was. Dread filled him at the sight of a familiar pair of glasses. 

 

“STANFORD!!” 

 

Opening his mouth the scream again, the word died in his throat as he heard something other than the gently lapping waves. It was low, and it seemed to drill directly into his mind. He froze, instincts telling him that if he kept silent and still, whatever the noise was, whatever was making the noise, would pass him by. 

 

Knowing it was futile, useless, no point to it at all and would more than likely get him killed, Stan whispered, voice full of fear. “Ford…” 

 

An almighty splash right beside him as something broke the surface of water. A loud neighing had Stan covering his ears, staring in shock and awe at the goddamn horse suddenly standing on the water beside the boat. 

 

“What the fuck?” Stan hissed. 

 

The horse was big, he never realised just how big these animals were up close. And it was pitch black, almost darker than the night around them. Shaking its mane, the horse turned to look at him. 

 

“Uhhhhh, good horsey?” 

 

The horse snorted at him, no more impressed with the words than Stan was. 

 

“Well what the fuck do I say to a fucking horse! Standing on the water!” Stan shouted at it. “Now move, I'm looking for someone!” 

 

Stan tried to grab the paddle, determined to ignore the sheer weirdness happening right in front of him. He had a brother to find. 

 

Whinnying, the horse bit the oar, easily ripping it from Stan's hands and sending it flying across the lake with a flick of its head. 

 

“Hey!” Stan angrily stood, arms out as he tried to balance on the shaking boat. “Get out of here! Bad horse! I'm busy!” 

 

The horse tried to grab the remaining oar, and for a moment, the two of them were fighting for it. Stan only remained standing because of the horse, their little tug of war keeping him balanced. 

 

By some miracle, Stan managed to get the oar back. “Ah-hah!” 

 

Only to start cartwheeling as he lost his balance. He managed to get a glimpse of the horse's smug(?) face before falling into the freezing water. 

 

“Fuck!” Surfacing, Stan clung to the side of the boat. 

 

Swimming in October was hardly an ideal experience, especially not in Oregon. 

 

Snorting at him again, the horse came over to look at him. 

 

“Fuck off pony, I don't need your shit right now.” Stan angrily muttered through chattering teeth. 

 

Nickering at him, Stan could hear that low noise again. Like a hum, or a faint melody? Looking for the source, he turned to the horse. The horse gently blew some warm air into his face, then, impossibly, its front legs sank into the water. The rest of it followed until all its legs were under, and it came up beside him, presenting its back to him. 

 

“What? You want me to get on?” Stan asked. 

 

Nickering at him again, it gently nudged at him. 

 

“I don't- I don't know how to ride.” Stan weakly protested. 

 

His instincts were screaming at him, that this was a bad idea as he reached over to hold the horse around its neck. He wanted to draw back, he wanted to pull away, no way was this gonna end well; but that low tone, that song(?) continued droning in his head and seemed to take control away from him. 

 

Without his input, he went from hugging the horse, to straddling it. 

 

For a moment it seemed like it might be fine. The horse stayed still, letting Stan take a moment to sit. Its body was no warmer than the water around them, which wasn't helpful. And also concerning. 

 

“You're freezing, horsey. Is that oka—!!!!!” 

 

Stan started screaming as the horse suddenly took off. But instead of running above the waves like he would've thought (which he would have never thought ten minutes ago), its body cut through the water instead. 

 

“Arrrgghh!” Stan yelled, gasping for air in between getting water splashed in his face. 

 

It was hardly an ideal way to be rescued. But if it got him out of the water, he could hardly complain. Maybe Ford had been rescued by the horse as well and was waiting for him on shore. 

 

His hopes were dashed when the horse, which had been heading to shore, suddenly veered off and started running alongside land. 

 

“What!? What are you-” 

 

His sentence cut off as the horse dove under the waves. Stan instinctively held his breath but there wasn't much in his lungs to begin with. 

 

“Sto-!! Hel—-” 

 

Stan couldn't even get a word out, the horse was diving in and out the waves too quickly. He could barely even get a breath each time so he saved the effort words would take and just kept trying to take as many deep breaths as he could each time they surfaced. 

 

Keeping an eye out, Stan gauged how close they were to shore. It took several more dives, but finally they were getting close. Timing things, he went to let go…

 

But he couldn't let go. 

 

He pulled and tugged with all his might but it was like his arms were super glued to the damn thing. No matter what he did he couldn't get off. And the damn thing was taking deeper dives, he was running out of air faster and faster. 

 

Oh god. Is this what happened to Ford?

 

He was losing his vision, the damn thing was drowning him. And of course, it was only when he ran out of fight that he finally managed to get off the cursed horse. 

 

Figures. 

 

Stan had no idea what was up or down, and even less energy to do something about it. Closing his eyes, he felt himself drifting to the bottom. 

 

.

.

.

 

Stan coughed, and coughed, and choked. Something? Someone? Turned him into his side, and he vomited up lake water, gasping for air and shaking. 

 

“....ley! …an…! St…” 

 

Someone? Was calling him. But he couldn't answer. Could only groan at the pain in his lungs. At the full body cold. He'd never been so cold before. Not even in the desert night. 

 

His body was pulled up, and he moaned in pain. Someone? Was holding him. They were shaking. Or was that him? His ribs hurt. His head hurt. It was so cold. 

 

“....av….ou! I….o….u!!” 

 

Stan loft track of everything as he fell back into the darkness. 

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Stan came back to awareness with a heavy weight on his body. He was warm, which was surprising. He thought he was a goner. Was he dead? But death wasn't supposed to hurt this much. Right? 

 

…Well what the hell did he know? He'd never died before and apparently he hadn't still. So…

 

Groaning, he tried to move. But his body hurt, every movement agony. He didn't even think he could move his fingers right now without pain. 

 

“Stanley?” 

 

Ford? 

 

Wrenching his eyes open, Stan took in the unfamiliar room he was lying in. There was a heater in one corner, facing the bed and working very hard by the sound it was making. 

 

The door swung open and the incoming light blinded Stan. He moaned in pain at the stabbing sensation that burst through his eyes and travelled up to his head. 

 

“Stanley!” 

 

A body collided with him and he cried out in pain. He had bruised ribs at least, he knew the sensation. And the rest of him felt like a giant bruise. 

 

“Stanley! Oh my god I'm so sorry!! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry Stanley! I'm sorry!” 

 

“Ford?” 

 

“Yes Stanley, it's me. It's me. I'm so sorry!” 

 

“...ur kay?”

 

“Oh god, Stanley!” 

 

Ford was crying. His brother was crying. Struggling, Stan managed to free an arm from the blanket. Weakly, he patted Ford's arm. 

 

Ford was still crying, but hopefully he'd stop soon. Passing out again, Stan welcomed the darkness this time. 

 

.

.

.

 

The next time Stan woke up, he was less surprised. He was also suffocating under the weight of what felt like a million blankets. There were so many piled on top of him he actually struggled to free himself enough to sit up. 

 

Assuming he wasn't hallucinating, Ford was around here somewhere. 

 

“For—” Stan's attempt to call for his brother were interrupted by a coughing fit. It went on for so long and was so intense, that Stan not only felt like his bones ached, but he also missed the arrival of his twin. 

 

“Stanley?” Ford whispered. 

 

Stan appreciated the quiet volume since his head was pounding. He didn't appreciate the fear in Ford's voice. 

 

Stan tried to talk again but Ford quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. He almost felt offended, but then Ford was handing him some pills and a glass of water. Now normally, Stan would never accept pills without knowing what they were; but it's Ford. Even with all their bad blood, Stan knew Ford would never hurt him. 

 

After he took the pills and drained the water, he felt ready to talk. 

 

“Ford? Are you okay?” Stan asked, voice only able to produce a whisper. 

 

He was not prepared for Ford to fold into himself, shoulders shaking. Ford always cried this way, hiding himself and keeping silent lest he get their pa's attention. 

 

To save his throat, Stan shuffled out from under the rest of the blankets (and no, he wasn't out of breath after that). Sitting beside his brother, Stan draped himself over Ford's back, his weight grounding him and his bigger frame making Ford feel surrounded, hidden and safe. 

 

“Stanley, don't.” 

 

Stan barely heard the words, but it caused his whole body to freeze. Slowly, he pulled himself away. When he was sitting upright again, Ford unfolded himself. 

 

“It's not- I'm-I…” Ford took a deep breath to calm himself, wiping his eyes to erase any evidence that he had been crying. “Stanley, how much do you remember?” 

 

“Uh, came here. Got your postcard. Found the second. Uhhhhh, oh shit!” Stan started breathing harder, the memories of almost drowning coming back to him. But that wasn't the most important thing to him. “I thought you were dead.” Stan whispered. 

 

Ford's head whipped around to look at him. “What!?” 

 

“Found your glasses. In the lake.” Oh thank 

Moses, his throat was recovering and talking was becoming less painful. “Found your glasses in the lake. When that horse showed up, I thought it killed you.” 

 

“Stan that's- that's hardly the important part! You nearly died!” Ford cried. 

 

Stan just shrugged. “Getting a postcard from you without it being full of big nerdy words was scarier than that.” He joked, lightly shoving his brother with his shoulder. 

 

“You were that worried about me?” Ford finally looked at him, and he looked devastated. “I'm the one who called you there. You almost died there.”

 

“Better me than you.” Stan said without thinking. Just knowing it was true. 

 

“NO! NOT BETTER ME THAN YOU! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!?” Ford exploded at him, shooting up from the bed and pacing the room. 

 

“I'm a screw up Ford. We both know it.” 

 

“No you're not! You're- you're my brother! My twin! If anyone is the screw up it's me! I almost killed you! God what would- You have friends, and maybe even a family! What would I tell them if you- if you…” 

 

“Ford.” Stan sighed heavily, snagging Ford's hand as he passed by. “Ford, I ain't got nothing going on. No friends. No family. Nothing.”

 

Ford gave a mirthless laugh. “Nice to know we haven't changed much.” 

 

“Ford, what's going on?” 

 

Sitting down heavily, Ford kept their hands clasped as he shakily explained what he'd been doing in the woods. 

 

He explained his initial joy at finding Gravity Falls, at all the things he discovered. The roadblock he hit. The drawing and summoning in the cave. 

 

Bill

 

Of being haunted, tortured, the fate of the world hanging in the balance. Why he called Stan. 

 

Stan flinched at that, finally pulling his hands away. Ford sobbed, but he kept his hands to himself, curling into a ball. 

 

“I'm sorry Stan. I-I was so desperate. So I used a spell I found, one that said it would turn me into a being that no other would be able to overpower, one that would make my mind impenetrable.”

 

“Oh Moses Ford, what did you do?” 

 

Ford sobbed. “I was the horse Stanley.” 

 

“.... Huh?” 

 

“It's called a Kelpie. From Scottish folklore. They're shape shifters, and they lure in prey with hypnotic songs. They trick riders onto their backs, then drown them.”

 

“And that was you?” 

 

“Yes. I thought, fuck! I don't know what I thought. I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea, to essentially curse myself. I was just so desperate to keep my mind safe. I'm so sorry Stanley. I almost killed you.”

 

Reaching towards him again, Stan gently pulled Ford towards him, wrapping him in his arms again. “I know what it's like to be desperate, Ford. And hey, I'm still here, you didn't kill me. I'm here for you bro.”

 

“Stanley. Where have you been?” Ford asked through a stuffy nose. 

 

Laughing, Stan spotted a box of napkins on the table, snagging one and giving it to his brother. 

 

Curled up on the bed together, two brothers spoke for the first time in ten years, long into the night. Tears were shed, and the years melted away, leaving a bond that was strained, but slowly mending. 

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Unsurprisingly, Stan had gotten pneumonia from his little swim. Not that a doctor told him, Ford just declared himself Stan's primary and started running all kinds of tests on him, getting a ‘baseline’ for his health. He also gave him some weird, magic stuff for his illness. It was suspicious as all get out, but Stan figured he trusted Ford so far: what's a little more?

 

Months passed, Ford spent a lot of time downstairs at first, dismantling the portal he built. But as winter turned to spring, and Stan recovered, he began spending time downstairs as well. Helping Ford out once he recovered, and they began to speak easy again, jokes and laughter coming easier as time went on. 

 

Sure, they also stepped on each other's toes more than once. Crossed new lines that had been drawn, unintentionally. Some days they spent not even speaking to each other. But they always preferred to be speaking than not, so the fights wouldn't last long. Solved in what was probably unhealthy ways, but a win was a win for Stanford/Ley Pines. 

 

But if there's one thing they really fought about, constantly and with no clear solution, it was about Ford's Kelpie form. 

 

“For fucks sake Ford! Just go for a swim, your hair is turning into a mane! Again!”

 

“I can't Stanley! What if I hurt someone? I already almost killed you! I won't risk that again!”

 

“Then we'll go late! I'll keep an eye out for you so you can go frolic or whatever.”

 

“And risk drowning you again! Are you insane!”

 

“I'll wear earplugs!” 

 

“No! I'll just go find a pond in the woods. It's worked so far, and I won't risk hurting anyone this way.” 

 

“Don't you drown some of those anomalies you like so much?”

 

“Only if they ignore the warnings! And the pond is too small for me to drown anything large, just the small ones.” Ford still felt guilty about those, but with his various warnings pinned up all over the place, the Incidents had lessened. 

 

“You always come back so grumpy. And you push it too far.” Stan complained. 

 

“Well I don't want to hurt anyone!” Ford argued in return. Again. “The less time I spend in this form, the less likely I'll be to hurt anyone.” 

 

“And I'm telling you!” Stan threw up their hands in exasperation. They've had this argument several times but Ford refused to listen to anything that wasn't his own opinion. “If you just take care of that form like you do your human one, it'll probably be less murderous!” 

 

“I know how to deal with my own curse, Stanley! What basis do you even have?” Ford asked while angrily shoving some supplies into a bag. 

 

“We've all seen the monster movies! Honestly! It just makes sense! This is why wild animals snap in captivity!” Stan argued back. 

 

Ford rolled his eyes at him, and spoke to him so condescendingly. “You're not a child, Stanley. Movies are not real life.” 

 

Was it just Stan, or was Ford's form… elongating? 

 

“There's gotta be something to it though! Why don't you pull your head out of your ass long enough to consider something else! Cause you're gonna snap one of these days!” Stan yelled, carefully inching towards the door. 

 

Ford opened his mouth to yell, but instead, a loud neighing escaped. Ford slapped his hands over his mouth, fear filled eyes turning to look at him. 

 

“Stney! RN!” Ford couldn't get the words out, his head rapidly transforming into a horse head, the rest of his body following suit until he was a giant black horse, barely able to fit in the room. 

 

Stan slipped out of the door, saving himself from being crushed against the wall. 

 

“Ford?” No response. 

 

“Horsey?” 

 

Stan took off running as soon as he saw Ford's muscles tense, making for the front door as Ford got tripped up behind him, attempting to follow through in space not meant for an animal of his size. Quickly, Stan opened the door and hid off to the side of the porch. The horse, Ford, flew out not too long after, running off towards town. 

 

Quickly, Stan ran back in and grabbed his car keys, flying out of the lawn and heading straight for the lake. By the time he got there, the water was still. The moon was only half full, so he pulled out a flashlight to help him find his way. There was no sign of Ford, but that was fine. Nerd was probably galloping along the lake bed or something. Resigned to a long night, Stan sat on the hood of his car and settled down. 

 

Thankfully, no one showed up. But when he heard that distant melody again, Stan plugged his ears. Nothing else happened, and without meaning to, Stan fell asleep on the hood of his car. 

 

.

.

.

 

Stan was abruptly woken by the feeling of falling. 

 

“Fuck! Wha! Argh!” Stan flailed on the ground as he was straddled by his brother, Ford slapping at his face and head. 

 

“Why would you do that!?” Ford yelled. 

 

“Ford what the fuck!?” Bucking his hips hard, Stan unbalanced Ford, quickly flipping them and pinning Ford down. 

 

“You know I didn't want this Stanley!” Ford shouted at him. 

 

“Hey! It's not my fault you transformed in the middle of your house! I told you, you were pushing it too far!” 

 

“Our house Stanley!” 

 

Glaring at each other, Stan felt an impulsive urge come over him. It came so swiftly that Stan didn't have time to bury the feeling like he usually would. 

 

Swooping down, he kissed Ford straight on the lips. 

 

For a second they froze, both in shock. Stan, from having actually done this, and Ford, from having his deepest secret dragged back into the forefront of his mind. 

 

Stan was panicking more and more the longer Ford didn't move, so he braced himself and made to pull away. Only to get less than an inch of space before Ford's hands broke free, grabbing Stan by the head and shoulder and smashing their lips back together. 

 

Stan hummed a questioning noise against Ford's lips, and it was answered by a moan. Getting the message, Stan started kissing in earnest. He balanced on one hand, bringing up the other to cup Ford's face. Taking advantage, Ford rolled them again so he was sitting on Stan's hips, resuming their kiss and beginning to grind down.

 

Stan lost himself in that kiss, 27 years of pining taking over his body (because he's pretty sure he wanted Ford before they were even born. Maybe that's why he could never stand for them to be apart.). He was ready to tear off Ford's clothes, to get his mouth on that cock, curious if they were the same down there as well, dying to fuck into that heat. He wanted-

 

Both of them flinched as they were suddenly bathed in light, quickly pulling apart and looking at the source. 

 

“It might be 4am, but this is still public indecency.” Came a deep voice. 

 

The light moved so they weren't being blinded and revealed Gravity Falls only two, and mostly incompetent, cops. Sheriff Blubs was looking at them, unamused while his partner, deputy Durland, was covering his blushing red face. 

 

Scrambling to his feet, Ford held his coat closed as he blushed. “Officers! My apologies, we got carried away-”

 

“Didn't you slap my stomach a few months ago?” Blubs cut him off, lowering his glasses slightly to give him the stink eye. 

 

“To be fair, he was possessed at the time.” Stan added from the ground, not bothering to move. 

 

“Stanley!” Ford hissed.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Blubs looked at Ford again, squinting at him. “Yeah, makes sense. I thought your eyes looked weird. Figured it was some weird Science stuff going on.” 

 

“Oh also, he's been cursed as well. Think you can warn people to stay away from the lake at night while he figures it out?” Stan asked. 

 

“Stanley!” This time Ford kicked him, Stan crying out and starting a slap fight that Ford was winning (he had the high ground).

 

“Yeah sure, just let us know when you figure it out.” Blubs said in a bored tone, already turning away. 

 

“Thanks!” Stan called which Ford looked on in shock. 

 

“And keep it in your pants when you're in public!” Durland added as he ran after his partner, the two of them getting in their cruiser and driving away. 

 

“I can't believe that worked.” Ford whispered. 

 

Stan just shrugged. “It's Gravity Falls, Poindexter.”

 

While Ford stood frozen, Stan got to his feet and in a flash, handcuffed Ford's hands behind his back. 

 

“What!? Stanley! When did you even get these? Why do you have these?” Ford screamed, fighting Stan's hold as he was bent over the hood, Stan's hands on his lower back and shoulder. 

 

“I stole them off that cop.” Stan shrugged. 

 

“What!?” Ford stopped wiggling. “You didn't even touch them?” 

 

“I'm just that good, Sixer.” Stan bragged. Then he leaned down, putting his weight on Ford and squishing him into the car. “So how was your swim? Feel better?” Stan nuzzled the back of Ford's head, pressing kisses to neck. 

 

“Ah! It was, well. Hmmmm!” Ford cut off as Stanley sucked a bruise into his hairline. 

 

“Better yeah? And I was in so much not danger that I fell asleep.” 

 

“That's- that could've been a fluke!” 

 

“Well then, good thing we got the clearance to practise then huh?” Stan stepped closer and started to grind his hard on into Ford's ass. “But first, I think we got some unfinished business, huh?” 

 

“Yes! Yes, please!” Ford begged. 

 

“Fuck you look so good!” Stan husked, his hands coming around to undo Ford's pants, pulling them halfway down his thighs along with his underwear. “Gonna show you just how talented these hands are, Ford! Imma make you feel so good!” 

 

Kneeling down, Stan spread Ford's cheeks and locked a stripe up his behind, from balls to the top of his crack. 

 

“Stanley!” Stan heard the metal thunk as Ford let his head fall onto the hood. 

 

“Oh? What's this?” Stan asked, running his thumbs along the tramp stamp he found. 

 

“That's- Bill, he…”

 

Pressing a kiss to the heart tattooed on his brother's skin, Stan whispered against the mark. “Don't worry Ford, I'm gonna make you love that damn thing. I'm gonna claim it, mark you as mine!” 

 

“Yes! Stanley please!” 

 

Wrapping a hand around Ford's cock, Stan grinned at the weight in his hand. 

 

“Damn Poindexter, gotta say I'm impressed.” Stan rubbed the dripping head. “But I'll admit, I thought you'd be -snrrk- thought you'd be-” 

 

“Stanley! Don't you dare!” 

 

“I thought you'd be hung like a horse!” Stan laughed at his horrible joke, resting his head against the back of Ford's thigh. 

 

“Get up. You're not touching me after tha-!” Ford cut off with a gasp. 

 

“Relax Ford. Sex is more fun when you decide to ride the stick in your ass.” 

 

Getting back to the task at hand (hah!), Stan alternatively squeezed and released the hard member, his tongue getting back to work. Licking Ford's pucker, he waited until the muscle loosened, relaxing against his tongue thanks to the pleasure he was giving it. When it opened up, Stan stuck his tongue inside, swirling it around as he searched for that good spot inside. 

 

“Stanley!” Ford practically screamed his name, and Stan shivered at the sound, his own cock straining against his zipper. But he didn't touch himself yet. 

 

Focusing on what made Ford scream, Stan pointed his tongue and licked over that area. Ford's breathing sped up, so much that he could barely make any noise other than some moans, his hips were working, pushing his cock into Stan's fist, fucking himself on Stan's hand. 

 

Deciding to be nice, Stan started moving his hand, helping Ford out as he flicked his tongue, pulling out all the stops, wanting Ford to come on his tongue. 

 

And it happened. Ford screamed, his voice almost rising into a whinny, his leg kicking out as he came, coating Stan's hand as he cupped a hand over the head of Ford's dick. Gently, he rubbed a finger just under the circumcised head, the spot being a sensitive area for him as well. Ford's body twitched at the sensation, little ‘uh, uh’ sounds escaping his panting mouth as Stan slowed his tongue. His jaw hurt when he finally pulled away and closed it, working the strained muscle to ease the ache. 

 

Worth it, Stan thought to himself. 

 

Standing, Stan had to keep a hand against Ford's back so his brother wouldn't slide off the hood of the car. With one hand, he fumbled open his pants, pulling out his cock and desperately jerking off, using Ford's cum as lube.

 

“Mmmm, Stan?” Ford was finally coming down enough to register the sound of skin on skin, and the low grunts Stanley was letting out. 

 

“Just stay there baby. Be my porn. Fuck you look so good, could be the centerpiece of a skin mag. Fuck! Ford!” Aiming his cock at the tramp stamp, Stan came over the tattoo, releasing himself so he could thrust up Ford's back, groaning at the sight of the ink being covered in white. 

 

As they came down, Stan pulled out his emergency bobby pin from his hair, and started picking the handcuffs. When Ford's arms were free, he helped him get his clothes back on, wiping down his back with his own shirt. He didn't care about the wet fabric touching his skin, but he knew Ford wouldn't appreciate the sensation. After he bundled his brother into the passenger seat, Stan drive them home where they collapsed into bed together, still fully clothed. 

 

§§§§§§§§§

 

Another few weeks passed. They were on the cusp of summer and the lake was getting more traffic, even after the sunset. Luckily, as much as Ford hated to admit it, Stan had been right. 

 

Ford was trapped, thinking of himself and the Kelpie side of him as two different entities. His horse side being a part that he needed to push down and repress. But that only angered the horse, making it more likely to lash out and take out its frustrations on others. A Kelpie Ford who got his time in the lake, to run and prance and frolic (“that's not what I'm doing Stanley!”), was much less likely to try and drown people. The worst that happened when Ford got surprised by a late night boater, was Ford freaking out and running off. The Kelpie could be a predator sure, but he was still a fucking horse! 

 

Nowadays, Stan could even join his twin in the lake in a little rowboat he… acquired. So between Ford's sciencing, Stan's part time job at the mechanics in town, and having mind blowing sex, the twins were usually found in the water. 

 

Tonight though, tonight was for science. 

 

“Y'know, giant teeth usually means a giant head.” Stan deadpanned as he rowed out to the middle of the lake. 

 

“Well, yes, but what is the head attached to!” Ford gushed as he made notes in Journal #4. “It can't simply be a giant, they live quite a ways further in the forest. Perhaps it's the Gobblewonker Fiddleford always talks about!” 

 

Stan shuddered at the mentions of Ford's friend. The guy had been close to losing his rocker when they finally tracked him down. He was doing better now, but yeesh. Stan got his brain blasted once, and it was not something he ever wanted to experience again. 

 

“And what, you think this thing is friendly?” Stan asked. 

 

“Who knows!” Ford laughed. 

 

Stan to fight the urge to throw his nerd in the water. Bastard would just transform and leave him. 

 

While Ford still had some human awareness when he was in his horse form, instinct usually reigned supreme. Stan never got on Ford's back while he was a Kelpie. He could spend time around the horse, sure, but neither of them ever forgot his introduction to Ford's Kelpie form. 

 

Finally making it to the middle of the lake, Stan pulled in the oars, hooking them in place so they wouldn't fall into the lake. 

 

“Alright, now what?” Stan asked. 

 

“We wait.” Ford declared, putting his Journal into a waterproof bag and pocketing it. 

 

Less than five minutes passed before Stan got bored. 

 

“Are we done yet?” Stan whined. 

 

“Stanley.” Ford pinched his brow, already knowing what was coming. 

 

“C'mon, let's just go home. You can come out as a horse some other time. Not like you need two people for this.” Stan cajoled. 

 

“Stanley! I can't make accurate observations as a Kelpie, you know my mind is compromised during those times. And yes I need you here. Two sets of eyes are better than one. And you have unusual insights into these things, you help me!” Ford smiled at his twin, trying to convince him not to be an annoying bratty brother. 

 

“Ughhhhh. Can't we just go home and fuck instead? Gotta be more fun than this.” 

 

“Don't say that out loud Stanley!” Ford scolded, looking around like anyone would be out at this hour. 

 

“Ford.” Stan stared at his brother in disbelief. “We literally got caught by the pigs dry humping. No one in this weird ass town gives a shit.”

 

Ford pouted at him. “Still….” 

 

Stan opened his mouth to tease him further, but they both froze as the lake shook. 

 

“Ford!?” 

 

“Oh my god, Stanley! Row!!” 

 

Grabbing an oar each, Stan and Ford desperately rowed to shore as an island in the lake rose up. It rotated until a gaping mouth and wide eyes were revealed. Those eyes locked onto them and it began floating towards them. 

 

“Shit!” Both of them screamed, rowing faster. 

 

“Ford!” 

 

The head was upon them, and it's mouth began bearing down on them. 

 

“Abandon ship!” Ford screamed, and they both jumped overboard as the mouth chomped down. 

 

Underwater, Stan was disoriented. He felt something graze his legs and he jerked back. Kicking out, he felt something firm on his foot, using it to kick off as he swam towards the faint light up above. Breaking the surface, Stan gasped as he took deep breaths. 

 

“Ford!” 

 

A horse scream answered him, and Stan twisted in the water to see Ford, in Kelpie form, running towards him. Stan shifted in the water and he screamed as the giant head surfaced again, locking onto the sound and beginning to turn towards him. 

 

Splashing down next to him, Ford whinnied at him, gesturing at his back as the head began floating towards them. 

 

“Fuck!” 

 

With no other options, Stan climbed on, his hands and arms again becoming fused to Ford's neck. Turns out it was for the best, otherwise Stan would've fallen off as Ford took off running. The head tried to follow, but as big as it was, it was no match for a Kelpie running at full speed across the surface of the water. Making it to shore, Ford kept running, the sounds of the giant head fading behind them. 

 

When Ford started slowing, Stan pulled his face away from where he had it buried in Ford's neck. Looking around, he recognized the pond in the Gravity Falls forest. 

 

“This a good idea, Ford? Plenty of things in the woods.” Stan asked. 

 

Ford just shook his head, bucking and kicking out with his back feet. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, big strong Kelpie, don't need no man.” Stan muttered, absentmindedly patting Ford's neck. 

 

Stan froze once he registered the motion, looking down in awe that he could pull his arms away. Carefully, not bringing attention to it, Stan pressed his hands against Ford's back, and hopped off. 

 

Turning around, Ford pranced a circle around Stan, nickering at him. 

 

“Ford, buddy, you didn't stick me to you this time!” 

 

Neighing, Ford ran off and Stan could see him dancing through the trees. He returned soon, walking right up to Stan and pressing his face against Stan's forehead. 

 

“Yeah buddy! Yeah.” Cradling Ford's head, Stan pressed kisses to the long horse face. “C'mon, lead me home, yeah? I'm cold.” 

 

Snorting, Ford turned and began walking, slowly enough that Stan could keep up. 

 

“Man, even in summer, walking around soaking wet at night is fucking cold, huh.” Stan was mostly talking just to hear something, but Ford made horse noises so it felt less like talking to himself. 

 

“Help a guy out huh.” Removing his hoodie, Stan threw it over Ford's back, his brother not pausing at all. “Nice!” 

 

Going for his shirt next, the wet fabric fought him, and as he struggled he didn't see where he was going. 

 

“Whoa!” Tripping over something, Stan's shirt fell back on with a wet slap as Stan's arms shot out to break his fall. 

 

“Fuck!” Hissing out a breath, Stan took in the situation. 

 

He had fallen onto a boulder, his hands were scratched up where he grabbed on but they weren't bleeding. Groaning, Stan just lay across the smooth stone for a minute. 

 

He didn't hear Ford coming up behind him, and he didn't realise that he was practically bent in half, at the perfect height. 

 

Stan startled as hooves suddenly smashed down beside his head, his brother now standing over him with Stan between his legs. 

 

“Holy shit! Ford?” 

 

Stan twisted to look behind him, trying to navigate out from between the spindly horse legs. But he froze as he caught sight of something pink and white sliding into view. Now Stan made plenty of jokes about Ford being hung like a horse, but as he watched the animal member slide out of its sheath, he came to the realisation that he never knew just how big a horse really was. 

 

The head was flat, and it continued to be that wide all the way down to the base where it disappeared inside. It was as long as his forearm, at least. He looked at the member, and his arm, then down his body. 

 

“Buddy, there's no way that's ever gonna fit.” Stan whispered. 

 

But he wanted. God he really was a freak. First his brother, now his freaky horse cock. 

 

Ford just nickered, snuffling at his head and lipping at his hair. 

 

“Ford, I really can't.” Even so, Stan was panting, imagining taking that cock inside. 

 

But fuck he was a weak man, watching that horse cock twitch in the air. Donkey shows did it! Why couldn't he? He'd heard about women taking horse dick! Why shouldn't he? 

 

Ford moved closer and Stan lost sight of it, but in the next moment, he felt something poking him in the back. Ford snorted as he rubbed against him, his powerful body shifting back and forth. 

 

“Fuck it. If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die getting the dicking of a lifetime.” Stan muttered, struggling to get his pants and underwear off, kicking off his shoes and throwing his clothes after them. 

 

He snagged the lube from his pants pockets. Regardless of what Ford said about him being a pervert, pocket lube came in handy. 

 

Popping the bottle open, Stan coated both his hands, bending over again and quickly shoving two fingers inside. Whatever. He'd taken Ford's fist before, dirty talking about this very situation. It was a fantasy, it was never meant to happen. But fuck, if it was on the table he was gonna fucking take the opportunity. 

 

Quickly, he was contorting himself, pushing his fingers in to the palm, getting about half inside before he decided: good enough. 

 

Dropping down, he coated Ford's dick with the rest of the bottle, wetting the whole thing even if he thought he wouldn't take everything. Ford neighed and whinnied above him, shifting his feet at the feeling. Unable to help himself, Stan licked across the flat head, dipping his tongue into the, comparatively, massive urethra. 

 

Ford screamed above him, feet stomping down, and Stan quickly got back up and bent over the stone. 

 

He felt Ford shuffle forward, and then that cock was poking his cheek. Reaching back, Stan held himself open. 

 

“C'mon Ford, c'mon! Want it! Give me that cock!”

 

Snorting and panting, Ford pressed between his cheeks. Stan felt the cock twitching, the head pressing flat against his skin over and over until it finally notched against his hole. 

 

“There! There Ford, c'mon, c- Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!” 

 

Stan's breath caught in his throat as Ford started to push inside. 

 

“Oh my- holy- ughhhhhhhh!!!” Grasping at one of Ford's forelimbs, Stan held onto Ford's ankle(?) as Ford started thrusting in. 

 

Ford was tossing his head and whinnying, his body shifting with breaths so heavy Stan could feel each heave against his back. Shifting behind him, Stan groaned as Ford's cock pulled back, then pushed back in, slipping further inside. Picking up a rhythm, Ford would pull back only a bit before returning with more and more of his cock. Stan groaned, pleasure turning to discomfort as more and more carved its way into him, his guts feeling heavy with the sheer size of Ford. 

 

“Ford… Ford, fuck! Too much! No more! Please.”

 

Stan could feel himself drooling, fucked absolutely stupid on his brother's horse cock. Ford lipped at him again, the side of his face getting a lick, lapping at the drool as Stan let his head flop to the side, limp and destroyed already. 

 

Then, Ford's cock managed to find his prostate the next time he thrust in. Stan screamed at the feeling, coming immediately. It almost hurt, with how hard he clenched around Ford, that massive cock already taking up so much room inside him. 

 

Ford neighed above him, super loudly. Stan would've covered his ears if he had any strength left. And it wasn't even over. Ford sped up his movements, carving deeper inside and Stan cried out as he felt Ford's sheath press up against his ass. Stan weakly cried out on every thrust, tears streaming down his face, his cock hardening again as Ford continued to press against his sweet spot. Above him, Ford's torso heaved with every breath, his hips speeding up until he shoved himself deep, twitching against his ass as he emptied himself inside, crying out his completion. 

 

Stan didn't feel his own orgasm, too busy with how all of Ford's cum didn't even fit inside him, spilling out with every twitch of Ford's hips. When he snuck a hand down to feel his belly, Stan cried as he felt just how bloated he was. 

 

Slowly, Ford pulled back, stepping off the boulder Stan was laying on. As soon as he pulled free, a waterfall of cum spilled out of Stan's well used hole, and Stan collapsed to the ground with a whimper as he felt his thighs get soaked with the sticky fluid. 

 

Stan didn't know what happened after that. He passed the fuck out. 

 

.

.

.

 

When he woke, he was in bed at home, and Ford was sitting up next to him, writing in his Journal. He felt clean. He wondered how Ford managed to get them home and clean them up. 

 

For a while Stan just stared up at his brother, unable to form a single thought after all that. Ford must have felt the eyes on him because he suddenly turned and looked right at him. 

 

“Stanley.” He breathed. 

 

Quickly Ford marked his place in the Journal and threw it onto his nightstand, scrambling to lean over Stanley, freezing in place when Stan moaned at the jostling. 

 

“Are you okay?” Ford asked. 

 

Stan just stared up at him blankly. 

 

“I'm sorry Stanley! I didn't mean to be so rough! I'm sorry I hurt you!” 

 

Ford cut off as Stan slapped a hand over his face.

 

“Shut up.” Stan rasped. “Now cuddle me like a man.” 

 

Laughing, knowing that was Stan's way of saying he was okay, Ford turned off the bedside lamp. Gently, he settled down beside his twin, curling into him and resting his head against his chest. He fell asleep to the sound of his brother's heartbeat sounding in his ears. 

Notes:

Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Hoosiers 🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of Supernatural Pines