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Late night telenovelas are something that Stan appreciates, managing his own business and having to babysit two rambunctious pups isn't the most relaxing activities to do during the day, or week, or month.
So really, the only moment in the day were Stan completely relaxed is when both puppies are in bed and he can just lean back and enjoy a good story.
Stan find himself suddenly awake as the milky scent of a pup mixed with a more acid aroma hits his nose—it reminds him of lemons and oranges. Then, the sound of little feet, covered with socks, padding down the steps reaches his ears before the small figure of his nephew enters his sight.
"Grunkle?" The pup says at the same time a mournful keen leaves his throat.
Stan blinks and finds himself standing in front of Dipper. The small pup tilts his little head up at him, eyes shiny with tears and face blushed red with fever.
Dipper sobs minutely before slamming into Stan, face pressed on Stan's abdomen as he starts to sob. Like this, Stan can feel the trembling of the pup, whole body shivering with pain. Because Dipper reeks of pain and fear.
Hesitantly, Stan reaches down to hold Dipper protectively in his arms.
He forces himself to not say a thing about the dampness of Dipper's pyjama pants. It's faint, but Stan knows the pup is presenting, though the only soft scent is the milk typical of a pup, everything around the kid is sour and continues to fill the living room with distress.
Stan can't say anything but softly rub circles on Dipper's back, chest aching as his pup starts whining and chirping for him to alleviate the pain.
Bouncing Dipper in his arms, Stan walks to his bedroom.
He doesn't hum, Stan never was that kind of alpha, he didn't rumble or guard his pack's rooms, he didn't immediately defend his territory and he didn't do unconditional love.
But his pups...
Even if they were his niece and nephew, they were his in a fundamental level that he couldn't explain. Stan never understood how parents would start preaching that the moment they felt true love was when they held their newborns. Stan never understood that, until two tiny pups stood outside his home.
It wasn't the first time he saw them, he got photos and some updates from their parents, but to finally have them face to face. Something changed, Stan knew it instantly.
Dipper chirped, rubbing his forehead in self soothing, hands gripping Stan's shirt as the alpha lowered the small pup into his bed.
Stan was never the kind of alpha to learn how to make nest for his pack, his bedroom wasn't a den for pups to stay and feel safe.
And yet, Dipper without hesitation and a little sloppy started rearranging the covers and pillows.
Stan stood there, didn't say a thing, didn't help nor offer to do it. Staring at Dipper attempting to make an omegan nest instead of a puppy one, Stan felt like he was watching as a toddler gave their first steps.
He should feel bad, this moment wasn't for him. Parents were supposed to be with their pups when they presented, not some great uncle that they barely knew about.
Stan watched until Dipper seemed satisfied enough, the pup a little dazed as his tiny fists tugged for Stan to get in the nest.
Without protest, Stan got inside and resigned himself to be arranged by the baby omega, letting himself get pushed to the center and being used as a body pillow by said omega.
Dipper purred, high pitched and loud, though as the time passed and Dipper matured the tone and volume would change. For now, Stan smiled and snuggled the pup closer.
Stan was never the type of alpha to rumble, soothing and caring weren't words to describe him.
But if the puppy chirps and loud purring got him to rumble for the first time in decades, then only his pup would know.