#Benrey was supposed to be in his own body too but. well. [open hands that clearly indicate that I didn't follow through on drawing that]

[merklins]

WORLDSTOP DOODLES!

[leroyzboots]

you and i are trying, together.

part two.

The amount of unease that can fit into Tommy's more-than-human-less-than-god body is honestly surprising.

Tommy paces back and forth on the floor of the Lambda lab, his Beyblade whirring between his fingers and his precious immortal dog following behind him with love.

They'd arrived at around half past midnight, but it's now early morning and there's been no sign of the other two members of the science team.

Bubby leans back in their chair, crossing his knee-high laced boots over their knee, and bounces the other one out of anxiety.

"Tommy," he barks; "you're scaring the other scientists."

Tommy glances down and realizes that the Beyblade is whizzing madly in the air around his hands, suspended from nothing.

"D-dammit," He mutters, snatching his toy back and returns it to his pocket.

"They sho-should have been back by now."

Tommy stops pacing for a second and stares down the Coomers with his father's intensity.

"Surely, Benrey could have used teleportation?" Harold chimes in, his knuckles bruised slightly from his repeated stims.

"I think that's what he meant, dear," Bubby replies, patting their husband's shoulder affectionately.

"Yes, exactly!"

Tommy throws his hands into his pockets, huffing out his frustration.

"The f-fact that they're not...back yet! Means something has gone-"

A enormous thud echoes from the the floor, a piece of tile juts out slightly and scatters the scientists nearby.

"Wrong," Tommy finishes miserably, drawing his gun and preparing for Xen's creatures.

Beside him, Sunkist snarls, her hackles raised in warning.

The tile cracks and shoots into the air, with accompanying gunfire from below, and a hatch busts open from the hole.

Tommy aims to shoot, but immediately lowers his gun upon seeing Mr. Freeman's tired but happy face, followed closely by Benrey, the bags under his eyes looking darker than usual.

"G-Gordon!!"

Tommy rushes forward, embracing them both, and the knots of tension unravel in his stomach.

Benrey snuggles just a little closer into Tommy's coat, and Tommy releases Gordon to pull Benrey into a full hug.

--

Tommy planned on never admitting it to himself, but these two were the people he loved the most.

Benrey..he'd known Benrey for years.

It started when Benrey was just out of training, and Tommy had completed his certification to become a top scientist.

Benrey was 19, maybe 20 at the oldest, his hair pulled into a ponytail that ran down his back.

They weren't close, then, Benrey had been assigned to guard the G-Man's adopted son.

Benrey couldn't die, and Tommy's line of work was dangerous enough to need protection.

So it all worked out.

They barely exchanged more than a few words to eachother until that one night, that one fucking night and Benrey is tripping over himself in tears, blood pouring from the wound on his back and he's clutching Tommy, pawing at his shoulders.

Benrey trembled like he's made from glass and will break if he falls, and Tommy gripped the back of the others security vest so tightly the kevlar nearly rips in half.

And that's saying something.

That night they sat together and they're closer in distance than they've ever been, Tommy's warm and gentle hands bandaged the wound above the numbers tattooed onto Benrey's tailbone and Benrey spilled everything.

Between sniffles and the occasional sob, Benrey confessed, about the tools that somehow hurt him beyond regeneration, leaving a scar, about the men and their evil sticks of lightning that would seep into his bones and fill him with pain so intense he felt like he would break in half.

Tommy nearly broke in half himself.

He felt helpless, and so he went to the only person he knew would make the ones who hurt his first and only friend pay dearly-

His father.

Oh, Tommy had never seen the G-man so angry.

Black Mesa was a research facility, for god's sake, dedicated to the study of alien life and the progression of the human body.

So when Tommy's dad realized that the prototype imprisonment he had resolved several years ago had resurfaced with an even uglier face, he sent scientists who had never experienced fear in their lives tripping for the door in yelps of terror.

And that had been the end of it.

Benrey continued his job as a security guard, people who had previously been made in the facility were hired back on as scientists in new departments such as mixology and cybernetics, and Black Mesa cut its ties with the military.

Black Mesa, Benrey explained later in his own broken way to Tommy in the quiet breakroom during lunch hour, had been trying to create the perfect human being.

There were thousands upon thousands of prototypes that had been created, and Benrey had been the last.

But there had always been something wrong with the ones they created, whether it was serious physical or mental deformities, or simply a sense of fucked up little creature that ended up resulting in the insane amount of scientists with the ability to grow in size, and the security guards that always had a few too many rows of teeth or glowing eyes and severe anger issues.

They weren't always grown in tubes, Tommy learned, but they were always branded with their serial number on the base of the spine.

The one before him, Benrey quipped with a mouthful of sandwich, had been born to a prototype and a normal human employee, before they stripped them out with a memory wipe and sent them into normal society.

The anxious feeling that haunted Tommy in the years that followed had something to do with that piece of information in particular.

Something told him that the military and the alien planet they were studying wouldn't let go of Black Mesa kindly.

Mr. Freeman confirmed that.

He's in the hallway, on his way to get a soda, when he's met with a newer employee, only worked here about 4 or so years.

He seemed kind enough, if a little loud and stubborn. And alright, maybe it hurt Tommy's feelings when Gordon called him a freak, but that was pushed aside with the Resonance Cascade.

Tommy knew that this was it, this was the boot boys' revenge for cutting them out of the picture, but there was something else, distinctly and unsettlingly alien about the Cascade.

The whole of Black Mesa fell into shambles, with creatures of Xen integrating into their carefully built walls and lives, and Tommy kinda freaked, okay?

He'd seen Dr. Coomer around, always greeting him with a wonderful "Hello!!", and was met with a thrill in his stomach when he introduced another prototype as his husband.

Those two had been with him, in the observation room when the project exploded around Gordon and Benrey-

he wasn't supposed to be in the test chamber, what if it seriously hurt him?-

And maybe that was when Tommy realized he was in love with Benrey.

Over time, he felt a sense of conflict slowly building as he made friends with Mr. Freeman.

He seemed to hate Benrey, they hated eachother, but Tommy liked one and loved the other so he became their middle ground.

He was convinced to himself that Benrey liked him as well, until that room, that dark, dark room, and suddenly Benrey is kneeling in a puddle of Gordon's blood and Bubby is screaming, sobbing, blubbering his apologies to anyone who is listening as the soldiers drag them away and Benrey-

He says it, he says those words and it breaks Tommy's heart into a billion pieces-

"Because I love him, okay?! I'm fucking- whoop-de-doo, in love with Gordon god. G-goddamn Freeman, okay?..."

And then Benrey teleports, and he's gone, and Bubby is gone and Dr. Coomer leaves him in the cold dark sewer by himself.

Tommy cried.

Burying his head in his coat, he cried hard and long, alone on the rocky floor.

And then Mr. Freeman crawls out of the pipe, and Tommy can't help it, he holds him.

Gordon reeks of sewage and his bloody hand smells of copper but Tommy doesn't care, and alright, maybe that's when Tommy realized he's in love with Gordon too.

Alright, Tommy can deal with that.

Something Tommy can't deal with is the fact that his instincts are going fucking haywire.

Tommy's always been very perceptive when it comes to time, maybe he can't stop time like his father can, but he's definitely got a certain sense of time and reality as it surrounds him.

Being able to reach out and touch and feel certain areas, but not control them, and all of time is wrapped around him like a blanket.

So when the floor crumbles away below them and Benrey and Gordon fall deep into the recesses of Black Mesa's hellscape, Tommy freaks the fuck out.

A deep, inherent concern lays nested in the pit of his mind like a pile of cottonmouth snakes, hissing madly and snarling that something, something, is absolutely wrong with how this is supposed to go.

Tommy has a sinking feeling that something terrible is going to happen.

--

Man, Benrey really hates this place.

The scientists of the Lambda lab asked a simple request of the Science Team- go through the portal to Xen, get rid of the Nihilanth, bring back some weird space shit.

Easy as pie.

Right?

Wrong.

Benrey feels sick, feverish on this planet.

As he follows behind the group, his legs feel leaden and heavy, and he tugs at the collar of his uniform, which feels uncomfortably tight around his neck.

He's sweating, unusually warm beneath his helmet, but shivering as though chilled to his bones.

There's a tug, deep in his torso, pulling him along, but it's a nasty, oppressive feeling that makes his limbs feel like noodles.

He swallows nervously, eyes darting across the fetid, blood colored planet of Xen.

The sour smell clogs his senses, and as they trudge deeper and deeper through the portals, away from the floating rocks with little gravity and past strange barrels of highly toxic looking liquid, the heavy pull in Benrey's chest only grows stronger and more sickly.

They push through a final, puke-green portal, and the feeling inside of Benrey swells to near explosion.

A cave, with jagged and dark stone running up the walls in wicked cracks, a deep red flush to the area.

Water is flooding Benrey's boots, a putrid and decaying smell to the liquid, and it only adds to Benrey's fatigue.

The creature before them could only be the Nihilanth itself, and the very sight sends such a fucking shudder down Benrey's spine.

It's disgusting, twisted and pulsating flesh running down what must be its face, beady eyes in a cadaverous socket.

It looks like a fetus, a failed attempt of termination long after the allotted time.

It speaks, and the chorus of voices that accompanies it gives away the fact that Xen isn't just the planet-

It's the entire race.

"So. The humans have finally decided to be rid of us."

Gordon looks tired, beaten, but pulls himself upward and grunts through the pain of his broken shin.

"Get your video game dialogue out of the way," he says, with a dismissive wave of his gun-hand.

"I'm about done with this alien shit."

The Nihilanth laughs, a hideous and painful sound, and tilts its head in curiosity towards the little group of vagabonds.

"But you have brought us the very thing we need, Mr. Freeman."

Gordon groans in frustration, turning back to his friends with his teeth grinding against eachother.

"Why does it know my name?"

Xens' audience shrieks with delight, and the Nihilanth's barely feasible mouth twists into what can only be guessed as a grin.

"Xen knows everything about you, Mr. Freeman."

Benrey sways on the spot, his boots splashing the strange water, and the scene before him blurs.

"Whadda....what the hell are you..talking about, man?"

Xen's creatures seem to roar with laughter, and beside Benrey, Dr. Coomer throws up his fists protestingly.

"Xen has been all knowing, all seeing since time begun. As we grow, so do our minds, until we are forced to repopulate. Regrow."

Beneath their feet, headcrabs scuttle ominously, causing Tommy to jump backward with surprise.

"But human beings became a problem for Xen. Their flimsy bodies failed, burst open upon integration."

Benrey is only just awake enough to process this.

"The scientists of Black Mesa were so eager to learn of a new planet. So Xen took influence, and under the guise of building a perfect human being, created what Xen needed."

Gordon scoffs, his shoulders shaking as he laughs scornfully.

Xen reacts strongly, a collective hiss rising around them.

"Do not laugh at us, human."

The headcrabs stay at a distance, but raise their pincers and click them menacingly as the Nihilanth's speech continues.

"Xen required a human being who could withstand radiation, a being who could lose blood en mass and not perish."

A sense of dread washes over the Science Team, and Tommy instinctively puts himself in front of Gordon.

Bubby ignites his arms protectively.

"Let me guess," Gordon growls, revving up his minigun limb; "you needed me?"

Xen's creatures wail in joy, and Benrey takes that as a yes, and reaches for his gun, when something big and poisonous and slimy wraps around his ankle.

"Xen requires Benrey."

Benrey yelps as the Nihilanth drags him underneath the water, bubbles of Sweet Voice trailing from his mouth as his back bounces on the cragged floor beneath the surface.

The Nihilanth swings him into the air, and Benrey splutters, ears waterlogged under his helmet, which slips from his head and falls to the ground with a splash, Benrey's short black hair now dripping wet.

"Look at you, our once perfect vessel- a mewling, pathetic dog."

Hung upside down by his ankle, Benrey gasps in pain as Xen shakes him repeatedly, and for a brief, sickening moment, Benrey is forcibly reminded of the Finding Nemo movie Tommy showed him-

He feels like a fish in Darla's little bag.

"Bark, bark, bark but no bite. You were made with Xen's own blood and yet you cannot even protect those you are infatuated with."

With that, the Nihilanth throws him to the far wall, and his skull cracks on the rock.

It doesn't heal, and Benrey slumps down, struggling to stand, his eyesight swimming with tears.

"You think the Freeman human loves you? You cost him a limb. You would be perfect save for your one flaw- you kneel before a man you could kill with no effort, and you beg him to love you as you love him."

Benrey shakes, kneeling, and whimpers as he chokes out a sob, not trying to disguise his tears.

"You truly are nothing."

"No."

The word is tiny, barely audible.

Then again, louder, with a crack of his voice but more than enough power-

"No. You're wrong."

Gordon pulls himself to full height, scowling so deeply the age shows on his face.

"Benrey is everything to us. To all of us, but especially me."

"Y-yeah! We're not afraid of you!" Tommy chimes, and Sunkist howls with approval.

"If you or your alien bitches thought we'd just leave him here, you're just as stupid as you look."

Bubby grins wildly, cracking their neck from side to side, his bright and eager eyes flashing beneath their glasses.

"Don't fuck with the Science Team!" Coomer bellows, and Bubby cheers beside him.

"Now I'm only gonna tell you once," Gordon beams, turning away from his family to draw his gun-hand and point it at Xen's Nihilanth.

"Piss off."

Gordon fires, and the accompanying screams of headcrabs and peeper puppies echo across the cave, and Benrey is overtaken with an aching, sweet feeling he usually associates with Gordon.

It's love.

Benrey smiles fondly as his knees buckle and he falls to the ground and submerges in the murky waters.

--

Benrey wakes up and immediately is struck with a massive goddamn headache.

He closes his eyes and pulls the pillow over his ears, but the pain is there and clearly is not going anywhere, so he's going to have to ask for an aspirin or some shit.

Sitting up makes him so nauseous it's not even funny, so he decides it's not worth it to stand.

A loud snore startles Benrey enough to yelp, and he glances around for the source of the noise.

Sitting hand in hand on the floor, against the wall opposite his bed, are Gordon and Tommy, both bearing signs of wear and both dead asleep.

Gordon is clutching Benrey's helmet so tightly to his shirt it looks uncomfortable, and Tommy is curled protectively around Gordon's shoulders.

They're half dressed, like Black Mesa decided that the HEV suit and a bloody lab coat was not appropriate clothing but also did not have a whole lot of options for back up wear.

Benrey guesses this based on the fact that Gordon's not really wearing pants and Tommy's wearing a t-shirt that says "Birthday Girl".

Something about the fact that they're holding hands hurts Benrey, just a little.

His heart aches for a moment as he remembers the warmth of Gordon's hand and the feeling of a hug from the Beyblade enthusiast who was his best and only friend for a very long time.

Benrey shakes his head, decides he's going to repress it, and yawns.

God, his head hurts.

Benrey figures that if he stands, he's going to trip and probably break something, and since he doesn't trust his regeneration ability right now, he's not risking it.

Instead, he picks up his pillow and heaves it at the two scientists as hard as he can.

Tommy jolts awake, blinking, then smiles widely upon sighting the guard.

"Benrey!!"

Tommy shoots upward, and makes the distance between the wall and the hospital bed in one step, leaving Gordon to slump over and yell in surprise as he hits the floor.

Benrey's pulled into a crushing hug, and he wheezes for Tommy to be gentle.

"S-sorry!" Tommy cries happily, pulling back to take in Benrey's face.

"It's..it's g-good to see you awake."

Gordon stands, still holding the helmet, and wanders over to where Tommy is perched on the edge of the bed.

"You've been out for hours," Gordon adds, gently reaching out with his left hand to ruffle Benrey's hair.

"We were starting to get worried."

Benrey swallows his funny retort for once, instead choosing to spit out some clear blue song in response.

Tommy reads it almost immediately, and excuses himself to get medicine.

Gordon takes his spot on the bed, and just looks over Benrey.

Benrey feels like he's being scrutinized, with Gordon's soft green eyes just roaming over his face.

"Alright. Fucking. Get the questions outta the way," Benrey mumbles irritably, sticking out his tongue.

"I know you're fuckin. Curious about the shit Xen said."

Gordon laughs sweetly, setting the helmet down on the bed next to him and runs his fingers over it fondly.

Benrey takes a note of his new right hand, a grey-black prosthetic that clicks when Gordon moves his knuckles.

"I don't really have any questions," Gordon grins, adjusting his shirt.

"Other than, are you okay?"

Benrey's taken back by this one.

Not only did he cost Gordon his hand and almost his life about thirty billion times, but everyone (including him!) also just found out that Benrey was made with Xen DNA.

He's essentially Gordon's enemy in every sense of the word, and Gordon is asking if he's okay?

"....did the Nihilanth hit your head or somethin', man?? What the hell kinda. Question is that one??"

Gordon's smile softens massively, and it makes Benrey's heart melt into a little puddle in his stomach.

"Benrey, you saved my life a whole shit ton of times back there."

"Yeah, I also almost got you killed," Benrey interrupts, but Gordon doesn't pause.

"I've been thinking about a lot of things while you've been asleep, and I've been talking with Tommy a lot too."

Benrey's happy puddle evaporates into a heavy leaden ball inside of his chest.

"I don't need to hear this, dude."

Gordon looks a little confused, so Benrey keeps going.

"You're. I know you heard the shit Xen said about...."

Benrey pauses, unsure if he wants to say it out loud.

That'll finalize it, forever.

He takes a breath, then with a great effort, says it out loud.

"I love you. Have since we were kids, have since I first met you. Xen was...right. They were fucking right, you're happier with Tommy because he's never hurt you or..fuck. Fuck, man, you don't feel the same and I'm done pushin' it on you. We uhh, clear?"

Gordon covers his mouth with his hand, and for a split second Benrey thinks he's made him cry, but Gordon bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach and snorting in between giggles.

"B-Benny, you idiot, I am in love with you."

Maybe it's the sudden affectionate nickname, or the fact that Gordon said he loves him.

But Benrey blushes, hard, and pink-to-blue sweet voice bubbles out of his mouth in surprise.

"Whuh?"

Tommy walks back into the room, bottle in hand, and pauses at the sight in front of him.

"Oh, are w-we doing conf-confessions now?!"

Before Benrey can even speak, Tommy drops down beside him and kisses him on the cheek, putting him and Gordon's hands in his own.

Tommy doesn't say it, but Benrey gets the point.

"Fucking- FINALLY!!"

Benrey just might die for real.

Bubby leans in the doorway, a smug grin on his face, elbow resting on Dr. Coomer's shoulder.

"Ah, young love is beautiful!"

Tommy and Gordon laugh cheerfully at Dr. Coomer, and Benrey buries his face sheepishly in the blankets.

--

It takes a few days, but Benrey recovers pretty well from the Nihilanth.

He's thought a lot about what Xen said.

And he's decided that they were very wrong about him.

His love for other people isn't a flaw, it's his best quality.

He can and will protect the people he loves with his life, no matter what.

And he knows that the people he loves will do the same for him.

With time, Gordon learns not to flinch at the sight of his right hand, or gag when he drinks a soda.

Benrey learns to accept hugs and snuggles from Tommy, and figures out the jokes that Gordon likes and doesn't like.

Tommy is always there to patch up Benrey's injuries, and learns better responses that don't involve soda when Gordon needs to vent.

So Benrey feels safe, and knows that he's not the only one who's trying to be better.

Benrey and them are trying, together.

[tigerdrop]

so. this is my attempt at posting a 20k-word-long g/t frenrey RP that kogo and i were doing at the start of this year. its not finished and im not sure when were gonna pick it back up, since we are currently working on co-op game theory instead of a filthy RP that takes place like 100k words down the line of co-op game theory. but ive been sitting on it long enough so here u go

i never really planned on posting this anywhere so its really self-indulgent and not as polished as our usual stuff but look. this is a ludicrous amount of erotica im dropping here. cut me a lil slack

anyway, here it is: Gordon Gets A Xen Bath

Gordon tries to keep moving, but eventually his pace slows to a stop, his legs growing heavier and heavier until he can't bring himself to lift them.

"Okay. Okay," he pants, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore, man! I'm tapped out! We've been walking all day - or, well, I have, I don't know about you. We can't... can't all be alien god fuckers, floating around or whatever." He pauses to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body aches from the strain of hopping around Xen in the HEV suit. Sure, gravity doesn't have quite as strong a hold here as it did back on Earth, and that makes all that metal easier to lug around, but it seems like time doesn't work the same way, either. Gordon can't tell how long it's been. Feels like days.

Smells like it, too, now that he's got a moment to breathe. He's covered in dirt and slime and congealed alien blood and God know what else.  In short, he needs a fucking break. And Gordon aggressively takes one right then and there, dropping to his feet. What's the rush, anyway? "Like we're ever gonna find out way out of this fucking place," he mutters.

> Benrey watches as Gordon collapses, a pile of metal and smells. Odors. Sweat and dirt and tangled hair. His head tilts to the side but his expression remains flat as he lifts his head and gazes out into the vastness of Xen, before turning back to Gordon and furrowing his brow. They hadn't even gotten far, not really, so it doesn't really make sense that he'd just crumple like this.

> He sniffs, shuffling in a circle on his feet as Gordon bitches behind him--something about never escaping Xen, as if Benrey hadn't traveled from one end to the other to find him in the first place--and chews his lip in deep concentration, trying to think of literally anything that would maybe make the guy stop. Stop with the, uh, whining and whinging and "blah blah, we're not all alien god fuckers" or whatever.

> (Though, well, technically, Gordon was an alien god fucker anymore. Their time back with the space maggots and the gun bugs and that skinny doppelganger had seen them in a couple of situations where Gordon happily fucked an "alien god.")

> But. Wait. No. Mind wandering. Wandering to fun places, places more fun than being lost in Xen (though he's not lost; they'll find their way out eventually), but not anywhere useful. And, for once, he has to think along those boring terms. Being, you know, reliable or whatever.

> What matters is making Gordon go. The hamster wheel in his head turns and turns until the rodent is slung clear off and, with a slow blink, Benrey accepts defeat. Ideas are not his forte when he's actually trying to be helpful. He turns to his human, he tilts his head in the other direction, and he waits for his human to look up at him. Then, he speaks without even waiting for eye contact.

> "So, uh... what can best friend Benrey do to... make you. I dunno. Less dumb?"

> Nailed it. Benrey is getting good at this "empathy" thing.

Gordon drags his gaze up from the ground to Benrey, and immediately scrunches his eyebrows up. "Wow, that was almost nice of you," he says, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice. It doesn't outweigh the disdain, though. "You know what? Just don't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is to stand right there and do absolutely nothing... and let me just... catch my breath."

He hopes against hope that, for once, Benrey will do what he says. Despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. His internal monologue turns a bit haggard. Well, it's not like there's anything he could do about it, anyway. Even if he was fit as a fiddle, if Benrey wanted to fuck off and get lost, there was no stopping him.

He can't hold Benrey's stare for long, though. It's-- it's always harder to look him right in the eye like this. Something about the size of him makes it uncomfortable, like he's staring right through Gordon. So he darts his eyes away, scanning his surroundings. The perils of an alien landscape: all the little islands and chunks of earth start to look the same after awhile. Rocks and strange, angry plants and pools of mysterious fluids. He's seen it all. There's a number of all these things and more around him, but the one thing he finds himself wishing for is something to eat. You can't trust anything out here.

"I just want a burger, man," Gordon groans. "Sick of jumping around like I'm playing some kind of platformer. You know, they never tell you how exhausting this shit is! My heart's-- my heart's racing-- like, adrenaline? Hate fucking jumping over these big-ass pits, I'm tellin' you."

Or, failing that, like, a nap. Or a bath. He vocalizes both of these things before burying his head in his hands. Maybe he could get one of those microsleeps going. If he can just calm the fuck down, anyway.

> Food? Nap? Bath?

> Benrey's mouth curls into a jagged smile. Of course Gordon would just need some of that weird, seemingly pointless human stuff. You would think after two grand adventures of dragging this sad sack around and listening to him complain every two meters, he'd have picked up on the human necessities. Things like 'burger" and "bed time" and "smelling like preferred smells, and not the natural smells that are apparently 'bad.'"

> A huge sigh heaves out of Benrey and he watches in amusement as it makes Gordon's hair puff out of his face. Small little tiny man, curled up on a chunk of rock, not able to embiggen and make things easier. It's sad and pathetic, almost as sad and pathetic as Gordon looks, but Benrey knows he's capable of being a good enough guy for the both of them. A real bro. A best friend.

> Because he knows Xen inside and out for some reason. And he's observant. He's seen things and can do the mental math necessary to figure out how to problem solve, sort of. He's spent enough time floating around Xen to figure out what those sparkly puddles do, and he's seen enough of those people back in the Wrong World eat the not-Lamarrs (or, at least the Vorti-bros did, which were close enough).

> And, well, Gordon could literally sleep anywhere. There was dirt for days, lots of rocks to align the spine. Fun nap places. Good for Gordon.

> With a burst of pride and dagger-toothed grin, Benrey propped his elbow on the island where Gordon was whining and held out his hand, palm up and flat, extended as an open invitation.

> "Oh. Uh. That it? That's, uh... that's a cool I can do. Big cool for you."

He stares, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean, that's a-- What are you doing?"

> "I'm doing a cool," Benrey responds. Though his voice is still fairly flat, there is a bite to it, hidden almost completely under his monotone. As if to emphasize the point, he lifts his hand and slaps it back down into the earth once more in a way he thought was light. Judging from the way the ground shook and the island rocked, perhaps not as light as he'd imagined.

> "Gonna, uh... help. Or somethin'. You gettin' on or you gonna be a babyman about it?"

Gordon yelps as the ground shakes around him, even though he's (relatively) safe on the ground. "Jesus, Benrey! Watch it!"

What the hell is he doing? His eyes dart between Benrey's hand and face as the gears struggle to turn. It's been a long fucking day, all right, and Benrey's... Benrey-isms are hard enough to understand at the best of times. This is supposed to help, somehow. So, scratch the burger. And the nap, too, probably. So, does that mean he wants to--

No. That's stupid. He's stupid for thinking it. Gordon steadfastly ignores the way his ears prickle and shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water.

"Please tell me you're gonna just carry me the rest of the way," Gordon sighs. It's a visible effort for him to get back to his feet. "Hey, actually, why didn't you just do that from the get-go? You're not even breaking a sweat!"

He complains, sure, but it doesn't stop him from dizzily shuffling forward and stepping on. Better late than never. He'll have plenty of time to chew Benrey out for this once he's out of this alien hellscape and back in his own goddamn bed.

> Benrey blinks.

> Oh. Yeah. He probably could have carried Gordon, huh? The thought never really occurred to him at first because, well, why would it? Was he a bad guy--a bad friend--for believing that his bestest buddy was a capable man? Color him insensitive for actually expecting things of Gordon, but he'd just watched the guy win Space Invaders in real life.

> After that, traipsing through Xen should have been a walk in the park.

> Best not to point that out, though. Gordon may take offense and, for once in his life, he isn't out to make him mad. He's trying to be good, trying to carry that camaraderie they built from Shit World Without Sony Products back to Good World With Heavenly Sword. Highlighting Gordon's stupid human failings would only work to reset the karma he'd worked so hard to build up in their social link. Or, you know, however humans fucking worked.

> Instead, he lets Gordon crawl onto his hand and then turns away, wracking his mind for the last place he saw a good puddle. After all, it made sense to start with a bath, right? Eating while gross would make Gordon complain, and sleeping while gross wouldn't be much better. Drifting past island after island, his head swivels to see if maybe there are some good candidates going forward.

> And there's... really not. Testicle stalks. Pointy rocks. Less pointy rocks. Tit-on-stilts that is aggressively spitting little Lamarrs over the edge of a rock chunk that looks like Swiss cheese. Benrey isn't sure what it's hoping to accomplish, but it's sure as fuck not accomplishing it.

> Then, he sees it, in the distance: A glittering pool of blue that sparks like electricity and glitters like cheap body mist. A strange smell, not unlike Sweet Voice, wafts from its direction. It's certainly one of the Good Smells Humans Like. Gordon will love it.

> Wordlessly, he glides toward it. Gordon's smart. He'll know what he's getting at.

Benrey's not saying anything, which is mildly concerning, but he is looking around like he knows what he's looking for. And when Benrey fucks off, Gordon in tow - held in a grip that's a little looser than he likes - Gordon lets his brain wind down for the first time in... a long while. Flying around Xen like this is nervewracking, yeah, but in a way he's more equipped to handle. Benrey's chest at his back helps. It's solid as a wall and deceptively warm, and if he keeps himself pressed flat against it, he can almost forget about these bottomless pits they're flying over.

He lets Benrey go like that for an indeterminable amount of time. (He may have dozed off a little.) But Gordon comes back to himself once Benrey's velocity changes. Gets a bit more pointed. Eventually, Gordon puzzles out that he's heading for one island in particular, one with a shimmering pool on its surface. Not exactly what the endgame was.

Wait. Gordon's brain chugs. He was looking for... some kind of water? Oh, Christ.

"Wait, were you being serious about the bath thing?" he asks as they approach. "I-- I wasn't being that serious about it! Getting out of here kind of seems like the more important thing!"

> "Huh?"

> The word falls off of Benrey's lips despite the fact he actually heard everything Gordon said. He heard him and even registered him, but he just didn't get him. After all, he's fairly certain that Gordon wants a bath considering it was one of the big things that spewed out of his mouth when he was being all needlessly fussy before, so why isn't he just saying it? Owning up to it?

> Was it because it was a detour? Slowing them down? Or was it just Gordon being whatever-the-hell-Gordon-was?

> Yeah, that had to be it. Gordon just doesn't want to get side-tracked. That's fair, he supposes. Or, at the very least, he assumes that's what a human would consider fair, considering how obsessed with "time" and "schedules" and "fast" they all were.

> "Real quick dip," Benrey promises, hoping to put Gordon's mind at ease; it was a far cry from what he typically did, so he could only hope it landed properly, that he was saying the right things and had the right inflections. "Real fast. Get'cha all nice. Wet. Uh. Soaps and hygiene. You know."

"Oh my God, man, it's gonna be a whole fuckin' production!" Gordon agonizes as Benrey brings them to that strange, glittering watering hole. "Saving the world's kinda time-sensitive, you know? And it's always such a hassle getting in and out of this thing! And-- Okay, hold on, you actually want to-- Okay. Fine. Look, I'm just saying, this is weird even for you, Benrey!"

Soaps. Hygiene. You know. Letting his best frenemy peel him out of his suit so he can scrub him clean, like normal people do. A shiver runs down the back of Gordon's neck. There's gotta be some kind of catch, but honestly, he's having a hard enough time keeping up with events as they're written. If there's some kind of malicious subtext to this whole thing, well, that's not his problem. He's got more important things to worry about, like convincing Benrey that it would be a little more prudent to just keep forging on rather than waste valuable time on a bath.

...Unfortunately, he's close enough to smell whatever it is that wafts off the surface in waves, and it makes Gordon's resolve waver. It's a clean smell, warm and vaguely fruity, with an undercurrent of salinity. Like a shower that's just been used, almost. God, he'd really like that, wouldn't he.

> The words don't really have weight to them anymore. If Benrey had a nickel for every time Gordon called him "weird" or told him he was endangering the world by taking detours, he'd have enough nickels to melt them down and make a big-ass nickel. And, judging from the way even Gordon's mouth wasn't running anymore, it didn't seem like Gordon had put any weight into his own words, either.

> Which was good. Real good. It meant Benrey was doing a nice job of not pressing every one of Gordon's buttons like a kid in an elevator, and being a proper friend. Best friend. More than friend? God, he fucking wished.

> And he'd shut up right in the nick of time, too, because the urge to tease is building up inside of Benrey like pressure in a flaming aerosol can. It's hard not to want to pick at him when Gordon is griping like this, just goading him on with his (strangely cute) bullshit. Benrey mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done as he glides to the edge of the island and leans carefully over the tiny expanse of mottled dirt and glittering water.

> "S'fine. You're fine. S'gonna be fine. Just cleanin' you up, makin' you pretty. Like a good friend. Best friend."

> The water bubbles against the back of his hand as he extends it, dangling Gordon over the surface so he can get a good look at it himself. Maybe, with the proper viewing, he'll realize that this will be a pleasant time all around. Good for him. Fun for Benrey. Bonding experience.

> "Gonna make you, uh, real shiny. Polished.  A, ah, regular... Casa... Casa del Nova."

> With that, he hooks a nail under one of the thigh pieces of the HEV suit and waits, eyes resting on Gordon's face in search of approval. Approval he selfishly hopes comes quick, before reflex takes over and he pops it off regardless.

Gordon peers over the edge of Benrey's hand to look down at the water, where it lies placid and clear and a vivid blue-green. Mysterious bubbles aside. It's... it's like one of those pools at Yellowstone, he thinks dizzily. They look so warm and inviting and then you step in and suddenly your flesh is deciding to melt right off of you. Gordon's stomach swoops unpleasantly.

Then Benrey offhandedly mentions making him pretty, as if he were just trying to sell Gordon on a new restaurant, and it swoops for an entirely different reason. An irritating reason.

"Don't just fucking say things like that," he says hotly, his voice pitching up and cracking from nerves.

But it becomes an afterthought in short order when Gordon feels Benrey's nail tugging at his HEV suit, and he realizes that Benrey's very, very serious about this. Especially when he fixes Gordon with that intent stare. Like he's waiting for something. Permission? It must be, since he's not making any moves to pop off the armor on his thigh. Gordon looks down at Benrey's finger, chipped black paint peeking out from the corners, then back up at Benrey.

Oh, fuck this. He hates when Benrey does this. It's one of those mind games, or something. Make Gordon be the one to make the call, like it's a game of chicken and Benrey's trying to get him to lose. Instead of, you know, not derailing his entire fucking journey in the first place with the suggestion of a bath. One where, well, it does smell really nice. And he can feel the ambient heat from the water from his perch on Benrey's palm. And Benrey's offering to pry him out of his suit and, presumably, do the washing for him. So Gordon doesn't have to move a muscle. Or even think about it.

His face twists and turns its way through a melange of emotions before he decides, fuck it. Even if this is weird, and Benrey's probably playing some kind of 4-dimensional chess, his mind's already sold itself on the idea. So Gordon's tongue darts out to wet his lips, mouth unexpectedly dry.

"I-- Okay-- You know what, fine. We're already here. Just... no, fucking, tricks or jokes or whatever, man. If you leave me on some fucking rock with my dick out, I'm going to kill you," Gordon tells Benrey.

> What Benrey wants to say is that Gordon is being a baby. A bitch, even. There's no reason for him to get all flustered and pissy when they've already done so many things together. Things that only the closest of bros do, like take down a hostile invading force and push their dicks together and make out. But instead, Benrey takes a deep and steady breath as he works his nails deeper under the chassis of the HEV suit and tugs up with a satisfying click as the latches come undone and the thigh piece flops uselessly off of Gordon.

> "Cool."

> He moves onto the next section, eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting above his nose as he looks down at Gordon and tries to focus. Head empty, aside from trying to figure out how in the hell he's actually supposed to undo all the delicate bits with fingers as big as his human. It was easier when he was small, and he supposes he could be small again, but that would be no fun. Perhaps he could just rip it off of Gordon with his teeth like the top of a sardine can, but it would be even less fun to deal with the little guy yelling at him for hours.

> Getting Gordon's goat was fun and all, but god, did the guy know how to harp on a subject like no other person he'd ever met.

> Instead, Benrey's tongue pokes out between his fangs as he presses the tip of his finger against the inside of Gordon's other thigh and lets his fingernail search for the seam, the latch. He cocks his head like an owl and leans down close enough that Gordon could touch his face, heaving out a huge and uncharacteristically irritated breath. From here, he can smell the musky odor of sweat and dirt and grime and alien goo, and it's strangely nice. Earthy. Very Gordon.

> He'd smelled it before, when he wasn't quite this big, when Gordon was unzipping his suit and climbing into his lap and drool pools at the corner of Benrey's mouth, equal parts saliva and lusty Sweet Voice and--

> Click.

> The other piece of thigh armor falls away. The noise shakes Benrey to his senses.

> "Turn please," he orders mindlessly. His voice is a bit more husky and demanding than it had been a moment before.

Gordon watches as Benrey pops off his armor like it's nothing, like Gordon hasn't spent hours fruitlessly trying to do the same himself. It would have saved him the constant indignity of relying on Benrey to get him in and out of the fucking thing. He tries really hard not to think about the indignity of this, too - Benrey's face so close to his, a hot, irritable breath fanning over him, and fingers at his--

Oh. Gordon jumps a little at the insistent press of a fingertip against his inner thigh, and heat rushes to his face. This part's mildly embarrassing at the best of times, when Benrey's smaller and more human-sized, but now? With fingers much too big for the job? Spreading his legs apart where he sits, rubbing insistently against his inner thigh... He can't help the shaky breath that forces its way out of him.

Jesus Christ, his hands are big, Gordon thinks, mind racing. Sure, yes, he's had this thought before, when Benrey was using them to slap gunships out of the air, but it's a little more pointed when they're prodding him like this. He tenses. Not entertaining these thoughts today, thank you. The whole point of this, presumably, was for a normal, ordinary bath. In a pool of mysterious alien water. With his rival stripping him down and scrubbing him. While he's so big that he could squish Gordon like a bug, if he wanted... or pick Gordon up and maneuver him around, broad fingers all over him, sizing him up. If he wanted.

He comes back to himself when he hears a command. Turn please. Quick and insistent. Gordon's eyes jerk away from where they'd been staring at Benrey's finger.

"Turn? Like, fucking-- God, ow--" Gordon hisses through his teeth as the motion twists one of his aching muscles the wrong way. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like this was stopping you... You know, I'm starting to think you just like bossing people around for no fucking reason." Despite his bitching, he does as he's told.

> Maybe he does like it. The bossing, that is. Benrey isn't sure. It's one of the few human things he knows--his job back at Black Mesa--and it's one of those things he's good at. Usually. At least now he feels good at it, with Gordon actually listening to him.

> He watches as Gordon turns, head shifting to tilt in the other direction, watching as his human trustingly turns his back to him and displays himself in a way that makes more Sweet Voice seep from between his teeth. He sniffs, he uses the back of his free hand to wipe away a trickle of fluorescent fluid trailing from his lips, and quickly wipes his hands off on his pants. His eyes never leaves Gordon's back.

> Lower back.

> His ass.

> Benrey had told him before that it was a nice one, and it was still true... uh, even if he can't really see it with Gordon sitting and all. He can imagine it in its entirety, though, nice and small, even as he fumbles with the latches on the back of the chest piece. He hardly notices as he clicks it open and the front hits the pad of his palm with an audible slap of metal against skin. He reaches around to pluck it away, the side of his hand brushing against Gordon's front.

> Gordon's heaving chest. His soft midsection. His...

> Benrey shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a trance. An involuntary laugh snorts out of his nose as he leans down, peeking over Gordon's shoulder like a creeping dragon, breath hot against the back of Gordon's neck.

> "Cute."

> And with that, he grabs the next part of Gordon: his arm, raising it up effortlessly like a doll's and carefully searching for the next latch.

Maybe facing away from Benrey wasn't the smartest idea, in retrospect. It feels like he's closer, somehow, his breath coming hotter and faster against Gordon's back. Benrey breathing down his neck should be, like, gross. Creepy. Gordon knows by now that Benrey likes to make a big deal about keeping them clean, but it's not like he knows when Benrey brushed last. It shouldn't smell... like that. Sweet. A distinct chemical note on the underside. Like ketones on his breath, but nothing that Gordon can place for certain.

Sweet Voice, probably. It's muted and subtle. He's not belting it out like he usually does, so Gordon can only guess what Benrey's feeling. Unfortunately, he's all too aware of what he's feeling: goosebumps, pebbling his skin from the neck down. A little frisson. They crawl all the way down his arms and make him shiver.  He can practically feel Benrey's eyes on him, too, all up close and personal. Don't break a sweat, he wills himself, because he knows Benrey's watching him like a hawk.

It doesn't stop a bead from pooling at the back of his hairline, then losing the fight against gravity and slowly trickling down his neck.

Benrey snorts, and Gordon flinches, cursing under his breath. He couldn't even have that, huh. Then Benrey has the audacity to call him cute. And that makes his blood pulse, briefly flashing his skin with heat, before receding just as quickly and leaving a chill in its wake.

"Wh-- Whoa, okay," Gordon starts. His indignant response is temporarily cut off by Benrey lifting his arm between a thumb and forefinger. He offers about as much resistance as a fucking action figure, even creaking a little for good measure, and it's distracting, okay?

After a few moments, though, he regains his bearings. "Shut up, man," he says, flustered. "I'm not even-- Just-- Quit being weird, okay?" Because, frankly, this is weird. He's not used to Benrey being so... accommodating. Helpful. Nice. And he doesn't know what Benrey's endgame is, here. So it just leaves Gordon feeling off-kilter. Uncertain. A little hot in the face.

> Benrey's eyes flick up like a lizard that's spotted its next meal when he hears Gordon's words, conveniently at the same time as he finds the latch with his nail. The armor on his upper arm falls away with a clonk and his fingers move down to the much-easier-to-remove gloves and wrist pieces, which come undone with a light twist and an even lighter yank. But his gaze isn't even looking at what he's doing, instead resting on the back of Gordon's hair, now wet with sweat and the dampness of his own breath.

> His skin is raised up in little bumps, and so are his hackles. Something bright and violet and base, fluorescent, builds at the back of Benrey's tongue, and he swallows it down. He has to focus, keep his composure. Get the other arm with a few quick clicks, fingers now more adventurous than they were before. The pads trail across Gordon's back, the undersuit bunching with his touch, pressing into his side for no reason other than the urge to feel. Then, when the second arm is freed, he remembers he forgot the boots.

> "Not being weird," Benrey protests as he wrangles Gordon in his grip, sighing heavily as he pinches him lightly in his grasp and rolls him in his hand like some kind of trinket. Until they're face to face once again and Gordon is flat on his back in his palm. He takes a moment to idly scratch his chin before reaching for the metal encasing his lower legs and feet.

> "Not weird to, uh, help a bro out. Be a friend. Friends call friends cute. All the time. Every day. S'pre... pre-requi... prere..." He pauses and stills and, then, with unwarranted confidence, forces the word out and continues fiddling. "It's pre-registered to, uh, do that. Yeah."

Blunt fingers at his arm, his back, his sides, prodding and rolling him around - each investigatory touch makes Gordon cognizant of just how much he's holding his breath. Until Benrey manhandles him into laying flat on his back, that is. A startled noise bursts out of him, and then Gordon's looking straight up at Benrey, with nowhere to go to escape him. Even without a hand pinning him down, he can't help but feel like he's stuck in place, anyway.

At least Gordon can sit up on his elbows a little. Less like he's some kind of specimen that way. And he lets Benrey fiddle with the boots, the strange feeling that curls in his stomach easing up on him the longer Benrey messes with something other than his soft, fleshy, vulnerable bits. He lets out a shaky breath of... relief. Let's go with that.

"IIII don't know about that," he says. "I'll be real with you, I'm not the kind of guy who does that... Uh. Well. Except there was that one time in high school? But it kind of weirded her out and she stopped talking to me."

Gordon pauses for a moment, brows wrinkling in thought. Then he shakes himself. "Anyway, that's not even the point. The point is," Gordon emphasizes, feeling like he's trying to present a convincing legal argument to a judge with all the size and breadth of (and possibly, the powers of) some ancient Greek god, "I think you have a, uh, tenuous grasp of what friendship entails, buddy. My friends don't call me cute."

As an afterthought, under his breath, he adds, "Nobody calls me cute." It comes out more bitter than he expects.

> The boots come off, one after another. The shin guards, too. Politely, Benrey scoops up all the miscellaneous pieces piled in his palm between his free fingers and puts them to rest next to the pool of... well, "water." Liquid. Something, though he's hard pressed to tell you exactly what it is. "The Bath."

> He listens as he does so, to Gordon squawking and muttering and saying, well, things. Things that he's not really listening to as he brings his hands back up to Gordon and tries to figure out where the zipper to the bodysuit is. Technically, he knows where it is, but his fingers are huge and the zippy-uppy part is so small, and he's prodding and poking with gentle strokes along Gordon's chest and belly where he saw the seam once-upon-a-time. He feels his nail click against the metal and it's... uh, well, it's aggravating.

> And Benrey isn't used to this kind of aggravation. Fuck's sake, he just wants to see some dic... ah. He just wants to help his best friend get a nice bath and feel better. Because he is a good guy who does good things like kill gun bugs for tiny dudes who can't shoot straight and not drive off with vehicles when Gordon leaves him alone. He's a good guy who doesn't want to be bad and--

> "Uh," he drawls, his mouth moving before he can really catch himself, "fuckin'... maybe people would call you cute if you, uh, weren't such a, uh, mean. So mean about it. Mean to me, just trying to say nices. To my best friend. Being such a good and a cool."

> His voice dies as he misses the zipper again. Fuck. When he speaks again, it darkens.

> "Please unzip suit? Please? Thank-you."

Soon enough Benrey's got him down to that reinforced bodysuit, the last piece of armor sliding off his hand with little resistance. Usually, this is where this process stops: Benrey gets him out of the armor, and Gordon fucks off and does whatever it is he needs to do. Change. Wash up. Sleep. The part where Benrey starts tugging at the fabric in search of the zipper? That's new. And it catches Gordon so unawares that he can't even speak.

That fingertip strokes him, almost, warm even through the black fabric, and a harsh breath whistles through Gordon's nose. It feels him up from his chest to his belly, a warm and insistent pressure. All the words in Gordon's brain get trapped in a mental sieve. In their place is a single, repeating thought:

Oh, God.

Benrey keeps trying, again and again, fingernails scraping uselessly against Gordon's belly. And his eyebrows furrow harder with the effort, frustration evident in his frown. And his fingers. Their grasping grows rough and imprecise and Gordon's trying so hard to bite his lip because there's an ugly noise threatening to punch his way out of him and Benrey's saying something to him that he can barely focus on and then finally, finally, he's giving up and pulling away. Christ.

It takes a moment for his mental fog to clear and for Benrey's words to sink in. Unzip? Himself? Oh, no. Somehow that's worse.

"Can you, like... give me some privacy, maybe?" Gordon complains.

He immediately feels stupid afterward. It trickles down from his scalp like something cold and slimy. So he clears his throat, and admits, begrudging, "I, uh... I'm not trying to be mean. It's been a long fucking day, okay? You're... uh... Well. Thanks. I guess. For trying to be nice."

There's a beat before the silence gets to be too uncomfortable, and Gordon hurriedly follows it up by saying, "Don't take this the wrong way. I think you could still use a few pointers on being 'nice' to 'humans', you know."

> "Wha?"

> In a second, the irritation is gone. Benrey's expression turns flat. He leans in close to Gordon and inhales deeply (yup, still smells like Gordon) and exhales just as hard.

> "I'm nice," he defends, eyes flicking down the pile of HEV parts on the island. "Fuckin', ah, Mother Tuh-ree-sah. You're the one who is bein'--"

> A pause. Nice. He was being nice, and he wasn't going to pick at Gordon. He wasn't going to point out that he was the one being snippy, while he was out here undressing him, and carrying him around, and getting ready to give him a bath, and maybe touch his--

> Wait.

> "Privacy?"

> The word tastes bad, real bad. The kind of bad that makes Benrey want to scrape his tongue off on his teeth. That isn't how they'd played these games before. Is this even still a game, though? Did "nice" contradict "games" too much? He isn't sure and he doesn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he nudges Gordon encouragingly with a finger and the words just start rolling out of his mouth.

> "No? No place to private at, bro. Maybe gonna have to just, ah, suck it up, friend. Besides--"

> Benrey leans forward on the island on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. As his body tilts, Gordon raises higher up due to his shifting of positions.

> "Can't, ah, can't not look. Dinosaurs and, uh, zombies out here. Ghosts. Gotta keep my eye on you. Safe-tee."

Safety. Right. As much as Gordon doesn't want to admit it, Benrey has a point. He's... vulnerable like this. And it would be just his luck that he gets beset by a peeper puppy with his dick hanging out. More to the point, he knows that it's stupid to develop a sense of modesty all of a sudden when Benrey's seen his dick before. It's just, you know, the size. The scrutiny.

Heat lodges itself in Gordon's face and makes a home there as Benrey brings him all the closer. As if to see him better. "Dinosaurs and zombies," he snorts. He can't believe that's the justification Benrey's giving him. And he can't believe he's buying it.

"Just... fucking, okay. Don't stare, at least," Gordon tells him, as if it will help.

The zipper's nestled in the seam at his neck, right in the center. Gordon fishes it out with shaky fingers. And then, slowly, he drags it down his front.

As he does, his flesh starts to spill from the suit in a creamy sliver. He's paler underneath, skin shielded from the sun for so long that his characteristic tan has all but faded. Consequences of running around in a HEV suit in the middle of Bulgaria. The rattle of the zipper rings in Gordon's ears, louder than life. First his chest, then his stomach, prickling with goosebumps in turn as they're revealed.

Finally, he pulls it down to its endpoint, just under his navel. Gordon's face burns with embarrassment.

> That... was easier than Benrey anticipated. Usually there's more resistance or, you know, playing involved whenever he asked Gordon to do something like that. Usually he had something a little more snide to say. Something in the air has changed, though, and he dimly wonders if maybe all of that advice he'd taken from the Resistors (Resistance? Transistors? Alyx, basically) has actually paid off.

> Learning how to human does, in fact, make interacting with Gordon easier.

> His pupils widen as he stares, mouth slightly agape, as more and more of Gordon's skin is revealed to him, a pretty porcelain color that looks incredibly soft and as delicate as a china doll. Usually he's darker, tanner; Benrey didn't know humans could change colors like that, but it's an interesting development and one that requires further investigation.

> So he leans closer, head tilted, watching the zipper come undone. Curiosity grips him as he gingerly reaches up and hooks his nails into the open edges of the suit and tugs, enough to jostle Gordon and peel away the wrapper but not enough to actually knock Gordon off his feet. As he does so, he ignores the sounds of protests, mouth opening wider and lifting in a sharkish grin.

> He's so pale now, but he's just as soft as Benrey remembers. Just as warm. Hair's still in all the right places, muscles in his arms growing visible as Benrey tugs the sleeves down, then the rest, leaving the top half of the bodysuit dangling from around his still-covered waist.

> He waits a moment, drinking in the sight. He could almost see his--

> No. No. No dick thinking, not now. No. He wasn't going to say anything because he was seriously just trying to be nice. And make Gordon shut up. And...

> And...

> "Cute."

> The word comes out while his brain is still arguing with himself. For a moment, he considers apologizing, or trying to pretend he never said it, but ultimately decides to stand by what he said.

> His eyes lift to rest on Gordon's face as he silently doubles down, waiting for a reply.

"Hey, careful," Gordon yelps, caught off-guard by fingers at the edges of his open suit. "You don't have to fucking-- Benrey, I can do this myself!" But there's no fighting him off before Benrey's tugging it down his shoulders, baring him from the waist up.

Impatient. That's the word that comes to mind. Benrey's itching to get him out of this thing, Gordon realizes. If it wasn't already obvious by that insistent scrape of nails against his jumpsuit, or the way Benrey's looking at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted. That heat in Gordon's cheeks crawls down to his chest. He's staring at Gordon like he's hungry, and all the pasty skin being revealed to him may as well be a juicy T-bone steak. Being half-naked ought to be making him pretty chilly in a place like this, but for some reason, it feels way too fucking hot right now.

Thankfully, Benrey stops there, which gives him a moment to get his bearings. On the other hand, Benrey's calling him fucking cute again, and Gordon was having a bad enough time handling that earlier. Now? Jesus, the guy's barely paying attention to him. Mumbling it like it's an afterthought. He doesn't know what it means.

"I-- I'm not fucking cute, dude, we already established this," he insists, doing his level best not to meet Benrey's stare. Gordon folds his arms, irritable and flushed a bright red. "I'm too mean or whatever. I got the picture. You don't have to keep fucking with me."

> Oh, he's changing colors again. Red now, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and Benrey snorts a laugh. Of course humans can change colors. He'd seen him do this before. A few times actually.

> But he's just turning red, and being snippy, and he's not making a move to take off the rest of the suit. Benrey's eyes flick from Gordon to the water and, with a low chuckle, he decides to take the cue. Which... was a cue, right? He's pretty sure it's a cue, but humans were weird to begin with and Gordon was odder than most.

> Has to be a cue, he decides after a moment of silence wherein Gordon doesn't budge. He grabs the draping top of the suit and gently peels it downwards towards Gordon's feet, watching it pull away from sweaty, dirty skin. Watching it expose dark curls of hair just below his stomach, and watching Gordon's dick spill out into the open air. Benrey's teeth dig into his lips as he watches, even as his hands move clumsily to strip the rest of the rubbery material off of his legs.

> He's touched that before. Wants to touch it again, wants to say something about it. But he can't because apparently it was bad form to say shit about your best bro's average-but-good meat when he wasn't specifically asking, or at least that's what his stupid, skinny doppelganger had said and--

> God. Wait. No. He shakes his head. Best to focus on anything else.

> What else had the Resist-y Squad said? To listen? Humans liked listening? Even when they were being bitchy little drama-snots?

> Then he should... listen, right? But... what had Gordon said? He wasn't actually paying attention. He furrows his brow and his stare intensifies as he tries to piece together enough of the words he did hear to paint a picture. It takes a moment, but soon, it clicks.

> Oh. Yeah. Not cute. Blah, blah. Something, something "mean."

> Benrey's mouth snaps shut as he struggles to tear his eyes away from Gordon's cock, instead keeping a trained eye on his face. His mind is a machine running on fumes with rattling parts, but he struggles through the distraction. He's going to be reassuring. He's a good friend.

> "Uh... yeah? Mean? Cute? You can be both. Bratty little, ah, Gordon Meanman with his nice... cute. Cute little hog."

> The words come out before he can stop them.

> Goddammit.

Oh, God, okay, so none of what he said got through, clearly. He squawks out as much. Gordon's mind spins into overdrive as Benrey manifestly does not let him take care of it himself, instead peeling the jumpsuit clean off his hips and legs and exposing him from top to bottom. His heart thunders in his chest, and he presses his legs tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"My-- my cute little-- Jesus Christ, Benrey, you can not say shit like like that!" Gordon snaps. He jams his hands between his legs to cover himself, humiliation boiling over.

Fucking Benrey. Always saying the worst possible shit, the most embarrassing shit. Gordon thinks this as furiously as he can, because if he acknowledges that there's anything other than purestrain embarrassment and indignation at play, he's gonna snap like a twig. That's all it is. He's a normal guy, and normal guys don't feel their dicks twitch when their best friend calls their dick cute. And... little. That's worse. Much worse.

The thing that Gordon's still failing to understand is why Benrey's still calling him cute. Yeah, it gets his goat, but it's not like Benrey was in the habit of pulling this shit before. And... And Gordon doesn't know why it's getting to him so much, either.

The first time seemed like a prank. A bad joke. The second time, an accident. And the third - fourth - fifth? The times after that, he's not sure anymore. But each time it gets his skin burning hotter and his heart skipping a beat and Gordon's still pissed off but he's not sure exactly why. (Well, in the general sense. This time, it's because Benrey's straight up insulting his dick, thank you.)

"Why did I even agree to this," he moans, head hanging between his shoulders. "Everything's always gotta be a big fucking ordeal for Gordon. You know what, just put me down if you're gonna-- gonna make fun of my meat or whatever! I'll get myself a bath and then we can go and forget this ever happened."

> There is something about the way Gordon fusses at him that makes Benrey's heart skip a beat, though it also awakens something in the back of his mind that he's been consciously trying to tamp down. The urge to pick at him grows as large as his smile as he hooks two fingers under Gordon's arms and lifts him up and out of his palm like a claw in a skill crane. Words dance on the tip of his tongue, ones better fit for a schoolyard bully, and he rumbles a dark laugh as he contemplates what to say.

> It seems the crack about his hog got him all worked up in a delicious sort of way, judging from the way he's still bright crimson and his dick seems appreciative of Benrey's attention. He could double down on that. Then again, he was supposed to be nice in this situation, wasn't he? He'd been doing so good up until this point, and he could imagine the Resist-y People would be proud if they could see him now.

> But the reaction. It's... it's good. Seeing Gordon's dick twitch, seeing him bright as a tomato, seeing him sweating and nervously dodging his gaze. All were signs that he was interested, that he may just be thinking the same things Benrey has been trying not to think and... fuck, them's good thoughts. Great thoughts.

> Maybe there's a line to walk between. Play the game and still be "nice." Benrey wets his lips and huffs a sweet-scented laugh into Gordon's face, before gently lowering him into the water. The surface of the pool practically sparks as Gordon's bare feet make contact, and a shimmering azure mist billows into the air.

> "Nuh-uh. Nope," Benrey replies with a pop of the p. "You're, uh, tired. Gonna, y'know, get you sparkly. Clean. Squeaky. Pretty. Make you feel so good you'll, uh, wanna buy BFF necklaces after."

> Once Gordon is nestled in the pool, he leans down close and presses down on his shoulders to urge him into a seated position.

> "'Sides, ah. Not making fun. S'nice. Cute. Fun size."

> Emphasis on "fun," Benrey thinks, and his smile widens.

A tingle effervesces across Gordon's skin as Benrey slowly lowers him into the water, something like carbonation but not quite. For one, bubbles aren't nucleating on him so much as drifting toward the surface, sluggish and small. But the effect is as curiously refreshing as a cold glass of Pepsi.

In contrast, the water itself is warm and clear, and the humidity fogs up his glasses in short order. Makes it hard to see Benrey before he's firmly suggesting that Gordon sit down. With his hand. He's not expecting it, and he sinks to his knees with a splash and a quiet "whoa, shit".

Gordon rights himself, sitting back against the edge of the pool. And he opens his mouth to say-- well, something, you know, there was a lot to unpack in whatever the fuck Benrey just said to him, but he barely gets it out before Benrey's talking over him.

Cute. Fun size.

"Stop, okay, just stop talking about my meat! Can we please move on? Any other topic?" He crosses his arms in front of his face.

This is, it's too fucking much, okay, there's-- it's just-- the word was already starting to crawl under his skin, and he's just an average American male! You're not supposed to say this shit to another dude! And you're not supposed to, fucking, swallow and shudder when you hear that shit, either. Not supposed to like being talked down to like that. By... by such a big guy. Who probably does think he's a fun size right now. Probably wants to...

Gordon splashes his face with water. Then he takes off his glasses after the fact, feeling like an idiot. See, this is why he's got to get Benrey to knock it off. Too much. Gets him lost in his own head. Gets his blood pumping. And the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by looking a gift horse in the mouth, getting a boner when Benrey's just trying to do him a solid.

Well. At least that's what he's saying he's doing. The jury's still out on that one. But either way, the most likely outcome is that Benrey never lets him live it down, and Gordon doesn't know if he can handle the psychological devastation right now. So.

"Here, look, I'll even... okay, so, what is this stuff, anyway? It feels like I'm taking a bath in a... a hot energy drink. But like, in a good way?" He cups some in his hand and lets it spill through his fingers. "Last time I jumped in this stuff, I think it fixed a bone. Is that normal? Weirdest fucking thing I ever felt, man."

> "I 'unno," Benrey answers honestly. Because, well, he doesn't know what this stuff is. Even if he knows a lot about Xen (and would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly how he knows these things), it's not like he knew much more than "this thing will eat you" and "this thing won't." All he knows is that these pools feel good and smell good and do things that are good, and could more than likely get Gordon clean. Make him have a more agreeable scent than the already agreeable people-odor he's already wearing.

> The Gordon smell. It's... a nice smell.

> "It's water. Uh. Bubbles." Benrey dips his fingertips in the pool to wet them and feels the curious, sparkling sensation around his skin; it's warm and cold and fizzy and, honestly? Yeah, kind of refreshing. Like caffeinated Pop Rocks or something. He dimly wonders what it tastes like, but ultimately decides not to drink the bath water.

> "Doesn't matter. You're thinking a lot. About wrong things. Need to focus on, uh, getting you ready. For the ball. Gordo-rella." He pauses, scowling. That was bad even for him. Quickly, he recovers, as if it never happened. "So, quiet? Please? Relax?"

> With that, Benrey extends one wet finger and presses against Gordon's chest, as carefully as he can, working in the glittering water and scrubbing gingerly at his chest hair. He works his muscles with a care he didn't know he possessed, and then maneuvers to his shoulders. He feels Gordon's muscles loosening underneath his touch and it makes him feel... accomplished.

> But his eyes keep straying down, down into the water where Gordon's dick should be, obscured by bubbles and blue. And he exhales, fighting the urge to press a button, to raise him up and see if it's still twitching in anticipation, wondering if he'll see it break the surface and greet him.

> Benrey's eyes screw shut and his fingers still as he takes a moment to force himself to be, as Gordon would say, "normal." It is a foreign feeling.

> He is not a fan.

"G-Gordo-rella?" Gordon bursts out laughing despite himself. "That's so bad, I know you can do better than that!" And the funny thing is, he does know. Benrey's got jokes. He's... good at making Gordon laugh. Even when he's clearly phoning it in.

The laughter sets him at ease for the first time since they'd set out the day before. And when Benrey reaches out to start scrubbing, Gordon flinches, but does as Benrey suggests and eventually relaxes into it.

Benrey's strangely quiet as he does it. Doesn't make any dumb quips. Doesn't start talking about video games or whatever. So Gordon doesn't feel inclined to break the silence, either. The meaner part of him insists that it's just because he doesn't want to set Benrey off on some dipshit tangent, but the truth is, it's kind of nice. The quiet. Even if it's bordering on surreal. All he can hear is the quiet sound of Benrey washing his skin, dipping his fingers into the water. His breathing, measured but heavy. And the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

The bath itself isn't half-bad, either. He didn't expect Benrey to be this... careful. Not a word Gordon really associates with the guy. But Benrey's fingers work his muscles in tight circles, slow and firm, washing off however many days of sweat and dirt and blood, and Gordon's finds himself melting a little. Letting his eyes drift shut.

He groans when Benrey works his thumb into his back just right, dislodging a knot in the muscle he wasn't even aware of until it was gone. "Oh my God, how did you do that," Gordon breathes.

> Oh. Oh.

> That noise was a... nice one. A pleasant one. One that makes Benrey hesitate for a second and lose his smile before quickly regaining it and pretending he'd never misplaced it in the first place. And he figures Gordon likely didn't notice--his human can't see without the glasses--so he says nothing as he dips his fingers yet again and massages into Gordon's shoulders, exploring every inch and feeling how bizarre every groove and curve is underneath the pad of his finger.

> It's odd, but not a bad odd. The kind of odd that requires further investigation because, while he's had his hands on Gordon before, this feels different. Better, even, in some ways. Motivated by equal parts curiosity and mounting desire, he continues to glide across Gordon's skin and work his muscles and feel them loosen and pause to take in the rapid thudding of Gordon's tiny, tiny pulse against his skin.

> Benrey swallows the Sweet Voice pooling in the back of his mouth. He gags. He coughs into his shoulder. His voice breaks a bit as his normally flat demeanor begins to falter amid a mob of intrusive thoughts that march right into his brain like little soldiers.

> "Can do it 'cause 'm not human. Got magic fingers. Call now. For $19.99, we'll throw in a second one free," Benrey recites, but his eyes are still looking for a hint of cock. But not just that--

> "Limited time offer. Supplies going fast. Better, uh, pick up that phone."

> -- his chest, bits of leg sticking out of the water, that pretty neck, that long hair--

> "Call in, uh, next fifteen minutes and I'll... uh..."

> --that stomach, slightly soft around the middle, and arms that were too strong for somebody of his persuasion--

> "Uh."

> -- every inch that HEV suit wouldn't let him see. Gordon would look so much better in something more... breezy. Clingy. Revealing.

> "Fuck," he says breathily. Something roils inside him, and a lot of it is unfortunately roiling below the belt. So much for subtlety. So much for "nice."

Benrey keeps scrubbing, keeps rubbing his sore muscles between thumbs and index fingers, and it takes a conscious effort for Gordon not to doze off. Even the prickling of fizzy bubbles against his skin fights an upward battle to keep him awake. It's just, he's been on the go for way too long, now, and days of tension are leaching out of him, and Benrey's, like, weirdly good at this. For once, Gordon doesn't have to be thinking about parallel universes and the end of the fucking world or whatever. Somebody else can do the thinking for him.

And then he starts rambling about magic fingers like he's hosting some kind of infomercial and Gordon's laugh comes easier and harder than it has any right to. But Benrey's trailing off now, distracted. Swearing under his breath. Gordon blinks open his eyes and glances up at him.

Despite his lack of glasses, Benrey's big enough (and close enough) that Gordon can make out most of his expression, even if it's fuzzy and indistinct. His mouth hangs open a little, and his brows are knotted up under the cast shadow of his helmet. Like he's thinking about something.

"Free shipping?" Gordon finishes his joke for him. Benrey must have lost his train of thought again. Gordon's mostly used to it... mostly.

He shrugs and rolls his shoulders from side to side, grunting and making small, quiet noises as he stretches. Man, that feels good. There must be something in the water, even if Benrey was, as usual, unhelpful as to what.

Finally, Gordon decides to tug out the band from his hair, spilling it loose over his shoulders. He snaps it around his wrist for safekeeping, then runs his hands through his hair to shake it out.

"Uh. While we're at it. Think you could get my hair later? Like, I don't know where you got the soap from, but I'm assuming you can just, like, magic up some conditioner or something, too."

> Benrey doesn't know how to tell Gordon he didn't actually have soaps. He said so, but he... he didn't. If not for Gordon pointing out that he could "magic" some up, he might have been really stuck, but with a quick shake of his head to bring himself back to his senses, his face lights up once more with a teasing smile and his tone eases back into his typical taunting monotone.

> "Uh. Yeahs. Soaps and, uh, condo-stuff. Got'cha."

> There is a flash of green as he lifts his hand above him (in a dramatic way that he hopes is as cool and impressive as it looks in his head), and feels something slimy manifest in his hands. Slimy and, well, scented like a Glade plug-in. Like flowers and "summer breezes" and things that are a lot more Earth-y than the Sweet Voice. It's a nice color, too, but one that doesn't match how he feels it should look, because it smells more like blue than it does white and...

> ... You know what? It doesn't matter.

> Benrey dips a fingertip in the soap like a child about to paint and, tongue poking out between his teeth once more, sets to work giving Gordon a once-over yet again. He hopes that maybe Gordon won't notice or point out the fact he hadn't even used soap in the first place, as distracted as he was, and just accept the fact that Benrey is once more rubbing his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his legs. Lifting up limbs and maneuvering them to get into hard-to-reach places. Pushing a little firmer than before to feel for that fluttering pulse.

> God, his own heart is beginning to match it beat for beat.

> "Yeah," Benrey mutters at long last as his tongue darts back into his mouth, "I can. Do that. Get your hair."

> His hair. His hair is so pretty when it's down, already having grown out after he cut it in the Bad Ending World. Silky and nice with bits of gray that make him look like he's as smart as he thinks he is--

> No, no. Nice. Nice. He is grappling with the idea of being nice!

> "Get your hair with, uh, real shit. Good shampoo. Actual soaps and stuff that ain't, uh, the stuff. Your stuff. Head and Shoulders. Make you look real good, real nice. Nice for m--uh."

> He pauses. He snaps his mouth shut. He pauses over Gordon's body and thinks for a moment. He wants to say it, he wants to tease and pick and make Gordon flush bright red and play their stupid goddamn game, but now isn't the time. He doesn't think so, at least? Maybe it is?

> Does Gordon think it is? He hopes so, but he doesn't know how to tell. And, apparently, humans didn't like it when their alien best friends played games they didn't want to play.

> "... Mandatory hair inspection," he recovers. "Black Mesa, uh, protocol. Already fucked up the passport. Don't... don't fuck up hair day."

Blood doesn't so much rush to Gordon's face as it crawls, moving as sluggishly as his mind does, processing this. He knows what Benrey was gonna say before he snapped his mouth shut like a mousetrap. Gordon swore he could even hear the teeth click.

Maybe he didn't actually say it, but Gordon's entire system reacts as though he has, because, fucking, he did! For all intents and purposes! A bright, prickling heat surges down his spine that has nothing to do with the water. Why does he talk like that?! Fucking cooing at him, like Benrey's taking some kind of sick pleasure in teasing him in the most embarrassing way possible... but that's about what Gordon expects at this point.

So why did he stop himself?

When Benrey marshals his voice into something more flat and toneless, Gordon frowns. He's... he's really trying, isn't he. Trying to do something decent without turning it into one of their fucked up little games. Some of the mental furniture rearranges itself in Gordon's head, pictures straightened and doorways unjammed.

Unfortunately, all the dusting and clearing in the world can't change the fact that the foundation in his head is wired to make him a paranoid little fucker. And Benrey's always playing some kind of 4th-dimensional chess with him, anyway, right? He's just being rational. Wary.

That said... he's already here. He might as well relax and deal with the consequences later. Especially when... oh.

Benrey's washing him in earnest, fingers pressing into him and manipulating him. They're all over him, probing him without direction, and now Gordon's not sure if "relaxed" is the best descriptor for himself. There's just, there's a lot of touching happening, and Benrey's hands are so, so big, and Gordon can just make out the tip of Benrey's tongue poking through his teeth and something about that intense focus - on him - makes Gordon's breathing go shallow.

Christ. He can't-- He shouldn't think about this. This is the kind of sick shit that only happens in his head, not in real life. Gordon's just a normal guy with something very wrong with him, and that "something" makes him more prone than most to awful little fantasies, intrusive thoughts.

That's all this is. There's gotta be something wrong with him to want somebody ten times his size to touch him like this, but in, like, a horny way. Like some kind of freakjob doing gross shit with an action figure. Maybe it doesn't make him a bad person. So long as he keeps it to himself. He'll keep all his weird little fantasies right next to his heart, and then he'll die. That's that.

It's almost over, Gordon tells himself furiously, willing his blood to stop rushing to his dick and his stomach to stop coiling with heat. If he can just focus, he can will his boner down before he has to get out of the pool and then Benrey will be none the wiser.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't fuck up the passport," Gordon blusters, in an attempt to power through it. "I never needed one before! If anything, I think you fucked up, man. Never told me about Black Mesa Picture Day or whatever."

> Benrey's fingers do not pause as Gordon fusses at him, but his eyes can't stay focused on his own work. He's too busy watching Gordon's throat bob as he swallows around a lump, or how his blush is darkening and spreading. He's gauging the look in his eyes, looking for any indication that he can go ahead and make it weird, but--even though he's sweating and nervous and fidgety and acting just like he does when they're playing--Benrey is too nervous to make a move.

> And "nervous" wasn't a part of his vocabulary until that Alyx lady and Gordon's own downhill slide made it obvious that he actually had to think human to interact with humans. His human specifically.

> So, even though he sees the signs, he decides to bite his tongue. It is foreign, it is uncomfortable, and it's almost painful to choke down. To redirect his alien brain into more terrestrial channels. To try to figure out what a human person would do in his situation and, barring that, just continuing to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

> Bathing Gordon.

> "Shouldn't have to tell you. S'in the, ah, employee handbook. Welcome packet. Folder. Right next to Warhammer 401k and, uh, ensure-ants."

> He cups a small amount of water in his palm and trickles it over Gordon's body, watching it drain down his form in sparkling rivulets. They trace his contours, weaving into every nook and cranny and crease that Benrey couldn't reach, and he watches them with an intensity that even he can feel. A warmth in his gut, a twitch of his dick. His tongue laps at his lips like a hungry animal; he wants to lick every droplet off of Gordon and explore ever inch of him as thoroughly as the bathwater.

> But... no. No, no. He's normal. He's normal and human and he's being nice, and Gordon hasn't said anything so he's going to close his eyes, huff angrily, and then continue on his merry way.

> "Everyone knows about, uh, Hair Inspection Day. And Passport Inspection. You, ah, you're just... uh."

> Benrey breathes heavily out of his nose as his eyes lock on Gordon yet again. Staring up at him, red-faced. Hair now adhered to his skin from the water. Chest heaving. He reaches out in spite of himself and presses a fingertip to Gordon's torso once more, feeling that rapid pulse and feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Knowing he could make Gordon's heart race faster and really put his lungs to work.

> He wants to feel him pant, wants to hear each heavy breath accompanied with his name and...

> No. God, it's getting so fucking hard to resist the game, but Benrey is good! Good for his best friend! He's learned and he's going to stay good. He's just being nice. He can be nice without being--

> "Missed a spot," Benrey lies as he pulls his finger away. He pretends to rinse Gordon off once more and sputters a cough. "Now, let's get those, ah, locks. Clean and brushed. Shiny. Barbie Girl, Barbie World, am I right?"

Gordon ducks his head instinctively as Benrey douses him with water, shielding his face. There's a huff from above him, and then another, breath hot and heavy on Gordon's neck. The closest comparable experience is... it's like being trapped under some kind of big fucking animal. A bear, maybe, snorting at the nape of his neck before it decides to eat him. Violently.

Cool. He loves thoughts like that. A pleasant reminder that they don't exactly carry fucking risperidone in the aftermath of a fascist takeover.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of it, then looks at Benrey in surprise when he presses a fingertip to his chest. It just rests there, warm and steady. Not pulling or pinching or shoving or any of the things Gordon expects. Gears whir to life in his head. Benrey's being-- he's being kind of fucking weird, but not in the ways Gordon's grown accustomed to, and when he's spent the entirety of their working relationship trying to get his sea legs, it throws him off just as badly when the boat stops rocking.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but it's not just Barbies who have to wash their hair," Gordon snorts at him. "You got me all worried now, man, I don't even know if you know the basics. It's shampoo, then conditioner, okay?"

After a moment, he slicks his hair back out of his face, too. For good measure. "And try not to get it in my eyes, either... Actually, uh, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this. Maybe you should just let me handle it. No offense."

> "Know what I'm doin'. I got hair. Nice hair. Better than... uh, Mr. 2-in-1," Benrey protests, masking the sudden wave of panic that just roiled up inside of him. Just the idea of not touching Gordon is too much, and he inwardly crinkles at the thought of missing his chance to feel his human again. And again. And again. Petting and scrubbing and massaging and imagining what it would be like to get Gordon close enough to his face that he could taste him.

> But... he can't do that. He's not allowed. This isn't The Game. This is A Nice Favor for His Person and, well, he's got to be normal. And chill. And calm. And this is all really too fucking hard.

> However, as long as he plays by the rules, he still gets a chance to touch Gordon, and he supposes that is a small victory. It's what spurs him on to press his thighs together and shift his weight to hide his burgeoning boner behind the Xenian island so that Gordon can't be alarmed or scandalized or angry or accusatory. It's what prompts him to summon from the ether, yet again, a new supply of nice-smelling soaps and an equally pleasant conditioner that still don't match the color his brain tells him they should be.

> And, with fangs pressed into his bottom lip, he dips his finger into the shampoo freshly spawned in his palm and swirls it gently, watching as Gordon regards him with a mixture of curiosity and what he hopes isn't disdain. He's been working so hard to try to not make the guy angry, and he's struggling not to slip.

> Slowly, he drips a dollop of soap onto Gordon's head--towards the back, since he is honestly trying to obey the request not to blind him--followed by a few drops of glittering, warm water. He monitors the way Gordon's expression changes as he presses against his head as gently as he can and begins to work it into a lather.

> It's... nice. It's not the usual rough stuff and bullying he's used to, but there is something undeniably pleasant about watching Gordon melt into his touch as he works, careful and light, his body rocking with the movements in a way that makes Benrey feel both strangely aroused and, well... warm. As warm as the pool of water, all on the inside like a badly heated burrito. It's new, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, and he savors it by trying to make the moment stretch.

> From the scalp and downwards, until his finger is stroking the side of Gordon's cheek and reaching under his chin as if trying to tilt his head up for a kiss he was way too big to give. Like a true romantic that he knew, in his gut, he wasn't actually anywhere close to being. But it felt right, and the dazed and pleasant look in Gordon's eyes shatter the alien armor around his heart in one powerful blow.

> Benrey swallows hard and says nothing. He just scrubs and stares. And scrubs. And stares.

> Slow, precise, delicate circles. Enjoying the moment, and buying time as he tries to untangle this utterly alien knot of feelings that is twisting around in his gut. Feelings he isn't sure he understands or particularly wants, but addictive all the same.

"Oh, that's kinda nice, actually," Gordon mumbles distantly, as Benrey starts to lather up his hair.

It's impressive, honestly, just how delicate Benrey's capable of being when he puts his mind to it. The pressure's firm enough that it feels good against his scalp, but he's not being knocked around or given a headache or anything. It's... pleasant. His eyes drift shut again, now that he's pretty sure Benrey's got the hang of it.

That finger slips lower, lower, stroking the side of Gordon's jaw, and Gordon leans into it. Lets him work soap into the underside of his facial hair. (And that's nice, too. It's the kind of thing he figured Benrey would miss.) And if Benrey rubs a bit slower, tilts his head up just a little so that Gordon has to peer up at him through slowly-blinking eyes, well, he's not going to complain.

Benrey's eyes are so big, so close to his and so intently focused that-- that he's sweating a little, just visible at the edge of Gordon's vision. Gordon's heart beats faster, and a strange tension begins to wind itself tight in him. It's like Benrey's trying to scan him. All that attention focused directly on him gins up butterflies in his stomach.

Gordon's suddenly hit by the awareness that nobody's done anything like this for him in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And here he is, letting his frenemy (best frenemy, whispers an annoying little voice that sounds suspiciously like Benrey) scrub him clean. Take care of him. How in the fuck did he end up here? And, more importantly, why is he so comfortable with this? This is the guy who got his arm cut off, not, fucking, not his live-in girlfriend. That broke up with him a couple years ago, citing the fact that he was "a puffed-up MIT asshole". Whatever. Details.

After a long stretch of silence, Gordon breaks it by saying, "I, uh, I think that's good. Yeah. Lemme just..."

And he pushes Benrey's finger away before ducking his head under the water, hoping Benrey doesn't notice the way his voice cracks.

> It... almost feels like he's being spurned when his finger is pushed away. There's a quaver in Gordon's voice and he isn't sure if it's nerves or rejection. In an instant, a long-dormant part of Benrey's brain flares to life, leaving him mentally bouncing theories as to why his person had sounded so off. It could have been that he was having the same sorts of thoughts Benrey had been having the whole time, or it could have been that he had done something wrong. Getting advice on how to handle Gordon came with the unpredictable side effect of giving him a lot to worry about in terms of "boundaries" and "behaving," which he honestly wasn't comfortable or keen on dealing with.

> These insecurities melt away as he watches Gordon duck under the water, however. It creates a hiccup in the system, a blue screen that necessitates a reboot. There's something distracting about the way his back arches forward, muscles moving, head dipping beneath the surface. On his knees, ass lifting up slightly so he has a touch more leverage. Hair floating to the top, and then clinging tightly to his skin as he emerges with a gasp and throws his head back and slicks it out of his face and...

> ... His face is dripping. Sopping. Water trailing from his mouth and down his beard. Running down his temples, his cheeks. Like sweat. Like... something else.

> "Holy shit," Benrey mutters with the barest hint of voice. He pauses, he tries to think of something to say that would mask the fact he's not being "normal," and he's been playing The Game the whole time, regardless of what he's been telling himself. The hamster is running, the gears are whirring, but Windows is still updating and he's at a loss for anything better to say.

> So he doubles down. His voice grows louder.

> "Holy shit."

Gordon winches his eyes shut as he wipes water from them, slinging his hair back out of his face for good measure. God, he can feel how much less greasy it is now, and it's like taking off an itchy sweater for the first time. Makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man, that's honestly really... uh..."

He slows to a stop, thrown off by Benrey muttering something. Almost inaudible. It gets him to crane his neck to look up at Benrey properly, about to ask, before Benrey says it again. Louder. Okay, yeah, he did catch that right the first time, huh.

Even though he's out of focus, Gordon can still see how wide his eyes are. How slack his face is. He doesn't need the finer details to notice Benrey's hand hovering in midair, like he's been interrupted in the middle of a thought. Staring at him like... like...

Heat crashes over Gordon in a violent wave, from the crown of his head to the pit of his belly. He's not even-- he's not even doing anything. He's sopping wet, and he can't fucking stand the way his hair looks when it's laying flat and slick against his head like this, and he can't exactly hide all the unseemly scars and and stretch marks and soft spots and all the other issues he's poked at in the mirror time and time again. (He had a growth spurt as a teenager, okay, and stretching him out an extra foot and a half so quickly didn't give his skin a lot of time to adapt.)

In short, he feels more naked and exposed now, half-covered by the foamy surface of this shallow pool, than he did when Benrey had him in his palm with his entire dick out. And it makes Gordon fucking throb under the surface of the water.

He's gotta be making fun of me, Gordon desperately tells himself. Defense mechanism. It's not working as well as it usually does, and he subconsciously presses his thighs tighter together.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, suddenly dry despite the water carding down his face.

"What," starts Gordon. But he doesn't know where to take that question, and it dies as quick as it came.

> Game over. It's done. Benrey's used his final life and lost it in a valiant attempt to beat the final boss, but now he's gawking down at Gordon who is gawking right back up at him with a tell-tale look on his face that makes Benrey almost positive that he's playing just as hard. His own breath quickens as once complicated thoughts congeal into something more comfortable, something more streamlined, something more natural.

> Something that Alyx would have been disappointed to hear, especially after how good he had been doing.

> He inhales sharply through his nose and leans in close, the air coming back out at a low laugh as his mouth twists into a hungry grin. A finger extends and he presses it against the side of Gordon's face, an almost loving stroke. He can feel a burst of heat in his cheeks and he knows, glasses or not, that Gordon can probably see how red he's getting. He shifts his legs as he floats beside the island, trying to accommodate a cock that is now frighteningly hard and twitching against his stomach.

> "What 'what?'" Benrey asks, his voice monotonous but still somehow teasing. "Can't a bro, uh, admire his bro? Have a look-see? Look nice. Pretty."

> His finger drops to the water and stirs it a bit, creating a roil of bubbles that send a pleasant, tingling sensation up his hand, his arm. It seems to travel straight to his heart, which is pounding furiously in his chest.

> "You, uh... you good? Need anymore help? Getting clean? Hard to reach places?"

> A pause. He feels his stomach twist into knots. This has never really happened before while playing this game, but it's powerful. Makes him feel desperate. Needy. Makes him feel guilty and he hates it because he never feels guilty.

> As quickly as the mask breaks, he picks up the pieces and puts them back together. He slides it back on. He takes a deep breath, fumbling with his words.

> "Want to, uh... pla... pretty? Want to pretty? Want best friend Benrey to make you, uh, cleaner? Prettier? Help you? Please? Thank-you."

Two paths emerge before Gordon. On the one, well-worn and well-lit, he would tell Benrey, "No thanks, I'm good," and he would tell Benrey to turn around so he can dry off and crawl back into the jumpsuit. And then he would let Benrey fit him in the armor again, trying his best to ignore those fingers on his skin, and later he would duck away and jerk himself raw thinking about it. Swearing at himself. Wishing he could be normal for once in his fucking life and not develop questionable new fantasies about the one guy who's as out of place in this world as he is.

On the other, bracketed by brambles and dark, uncharted woods, Gordon would... He would...

He'd get it through his head that he's not the only little fucking weirdo in this relationship. That Benrey keeps staring at him like that for a reason.

And that Benrey's trying so fucking hard to play nice because... well... Gordon hasn't wrapped his head around that one yet, but he has his suspicions. Some of them more worrying than others. But the point is, Benrey's not taking the bait. He's got Gordon in a highly vulnerable position, and he could be pushing Gordon around if he wanted, playing their little game and driving him up the wall.

But he isn't. He keeps choking it back. It's unsettling. Gordon doesn't know how to handle it. He kind of wishes, in the back of his mind, that Benrey would tack on his 'schoolyard bully' demeanor again. At least that Gordon understands on some level. Push, pull, tussle.

And most unsettling of all is that downright tender way that Benrey drags a finger along his cheek. Anxiety thrums to life in Gordon's blood. No, no, that's not-- This is weird. This is so weird. There's something roiling and ugly churning in his stomach, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's not coping with it, he needs to-- to wrangle this situation, get some control over it, steer it back to familiar territory.

And in doing so, Gordon floors it directly into the woods.

He looks back at Benrey, taking in the hot flush crawling up his skin. The awkward shifting. I'm not the only freak here, Gordon reminds himself, blood pounding in his ears.

So he shifts himself. Sits back, draws his legs up so that his knees peek out of the water. Lets them fall to the sides, just a little. And he says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear,

"What, and you're not even gonna-- That's some low-hanging fruit you're leaving on the vine. Startin' to get worried about you, man. You haven't gone this long without making fun of me in... uh, ever."

> Wait. Was that...?

> Was that admission?

> Benrey's pupils grow wide at the words, and his smile threatens to falter as he feels the cogs creaking inside of his head. Connecting the dots with all the newfound information he has on human people is like doing the advanced science stuff Gordon seemed to believe he was so special for knowing. There's emotional equations, rechecking the data, counter-arguments for every theory he comes up with, but in the end a little lightbulb flickers to life. The lights are on, somebody is home, and by god does that somebody want to play ball already.

> Benrey's finger stills on Gordon's cheek and he feels an uncharacteristic lump grow in his throat as his face grows redder and sweat beads at his brow. That weird emotion that once wrapped itself around its siblings, Worry and Guilt, finally cut itself loose and tangles itself in his stomach. He doesn't like it--it's too warm, and it's not the horny kind of heat that he's used to--but he allows it to stay. It feels like it may turn into something good if he just lets it incubate.

> "Uh, what? Not gonna... huh?"

> Benrey's voice cracks just like Gordon's had a moment before. He pretends it never happened and seamlessly continues.

> "Not gonna, ah, make fun of you. Gonna... gonna pick that fruit, though."

> His finger trails down Gordon's chin, down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. It rests dangerously low on his belly, threatening to dip lower. He grins at Gordon, leans in close, and huffs a laugh that's less malicious than it is honestly amused with its own cleverness.

> "Uh, get it? Fruit? Picked? You're, ah, you're the fruit, bro."

> A pause.

> "Laugh, please."

Gordon swallows, hard. The implications hit him like a bowling ball. That somebody's dropping on him. Maybe from an overpass or something. He's spinning out a little, alright, and losing his grip on the metaphor.

Benrey's fingertip leaves goosebumps in its wake, and his breathing goes shallow as the nail lightly catches on the crook of his neck. Lower, lower, slipping just below the surface of the water to rest on his belly, and Gordon thanks every deity he can imagine (and some he can't) that the bubbles hide... well. This, feeling it throb where it lies heavy against his hip.

Despite himself, he does actually laugh when Benrey prompts it. It comes out high and way louder than he intended, but still. Now that's a metaphor he's got a good grasp on, he thinks wildly. Oh, Christ.

"That's-- that's not really what I meant," Gordon tries to argue, but not with very much conviction. "But, uh, ha ha! Great joke! Fucking love jokes, man!"

> Benrey doesn't really hear what Gordon is saying. He does know that tone, though, from times they've played The Game before. It's a tone that speaks of permission, a sort of polite denial without the force. The kind of arguing that Benrey knows he can get away with ignoring because it's not sincere. Game talk. A challenge.

> Their own secret language of want.

> "Thank-you," Benrey purrs when Gordon forces a laugh, and his finger rubs a slow, slow circle into Gordon's stomach. He's sure Gordon notices when it bumps a bit too low, because he can feel something tell-tale just beneath the surface of the water. His grin grows at the realization that he was on the right track, tongue slipping out from between his teeth and running along his lips. A show, given to Gordon.

> A show he desperately wants Gordon to notice is meant for him. A tech demo. A promise.

> "But, uh... if that ain't what you meant. What did you mean? 'Cause you seem to be enjoyin' this, best friend."

A noise threatens to burst from Gordon's chest when Benrey starts to rub, slow and insistent, and grazes against-- Oh, God. But he clamps his lips tight, and all that escapes him is a harsh puff of air through his nose. He knows now, he knows, and it's written all over his face, a raised eyebrow and a smug smile and the slow, deliberate movement of his tongue over his lower lip.

It's fucking cartoonish, is what it is. Gordon should laugh. Gordon does laugh, again, another nervous little titter that doesn't communicate "amusement" so much as "flustered hysteria".

"I don't know," he blurts out, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day. "Fucking, God, I'm not-- This isn't what it looks like, okay, you just-- you keep looking at me like that, and I don't know what your fucking game is, man!"

He can't look at Benrey, not right now, not when he knows Benrey's looking at him like that, and so he looks down and oh, no, that's a bad idea. Because Benrey's still drawing tight little circles into his skin, unnervingly gentle. And so Gordon's eyes keep darting around, finding nowhere suitable to land.

At least Benrey's taking the bait. He's not doing that weird sappy shit anymore, and Gordon's in more familiar territory: the push and pull. The teasing. So he pulls harder, in hopes that Benrey will knock it off for good.

"If anybody's 'enjoying this', it's you, buddy! I'm just a, uh, innocent bystander, you know?"

> He doesn't sound convincing. There's fractures in his voice, and his words are stumbling like they fell down the stairs. He's looking everywhere but at Benrey, his face red and his eyes nervously darting from thing to thing to thing. But, in the end, they always come back to him, in one way or another.

> It's tells like this that let Benrey know that he's playing. The Game is afoot, he's been given the go-ahead. It's time to take the ball and run.

> "Uh-huh. Sure. Innocent. Lessee what you're hidin', bro."

> And with that, Benrey removes his finger from Gordon's stomach, instead parting his fingers into a V-shape and hooking Gordon underneath his arms. It's like a claw in a skill crane and, with a snort, he lifts Gordon out of the water. Naked, wet, and standing at attention from the looks of it; his human apparently had been playing along a lot longer than Benrey knew. He watches Gordon dangling a few feet from the pool at the end of his hand and smirks.

> But there's something different now, isn't there? Something Benrey sees in his human that makes that weird feeling he's been fighting twirl and twist. He's barely even noticing Gordon's boner more than he's looking at the way his hair is clinging to his face, and the way his eyes are flicking up at him expectantly, and how warm and small and cute he looks. He looks delicate and handsome and he wants to touch him, but he wants to touch all of him, and his heart is thumping so hard he starts to worry because... fuck. Is he dying? Is Gordon killing him just by being cute?

> Benrey swallows hard. He hopes his expression didn't falter. He broadens his grin in case it did, until the muscles in his cheeks honestly hurt. And he inhales deeply and forces a mocking laugh and squeezes his fingers around Gordon gently in an attempt to further mock him.

> "I 'unno, bro. Looks like you're, uh... you're carrying without a permit. That's... uh, an infract... fracta... infection. You're a bad boy, aren't'cha?"

Gordon yelps as those fingers hook under his arms and drag him out of the water. Oh, God, his legs are kicking out from underneath him, and his hands scrabble at Benrey's, and Benrey's just smirking at him all up close and personal and he's fucked, he's really, really fucked. His fucking dick bobs in the air like-- like-- he doesn't know, he doesn't have a simile for this! Gordon's never been in this situation before! But bob it does, until he comes to a stop right in front of Benrey's face.

"It's infraction, dude!" Gordon snaps, his mind jumping to the least important thing Benrey said. "Fucking 'infraction'! And I don't-- I don't know what you expect when you're all, fucking--"

He's cut off by a gasp when Benrey squeezes him, just a little. Makes Gordon keenly aware of those big fingers. He can just... he can do whatever he fucking wants, huh? Pick Gordon up like it's nothing? Wrap those fingers around him, so big and hot and rough against his skin, and move all his limbs around just like he was doing earlier and--

And--

Gordon blinks, coming back to himself. Face hot. Mouth dry. And Benrey's grin looks impossibly wider.

"You know," he finishes weakly.

> "Maybe I do," Benrey responds, jostling Gordon lightly. "Maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me, bro. When I'm all fuckin' what?"

> He lifts Gordon higher, and closer. Really gets a good look at him, leaning in and running his tongue along his jagged teeth. Like a predator, like something that wants to swallow Gordon whole, though that's the last thing on his mind. He wants to taste Gordon, that's for sure, but there's... there's more to it.

> He wants to reel him in. Follow this weird feeling. Press his lips against Gordon and--

> Benrey inhales sharply through his nose. Gordon smells positively delicious. Like something fruity and sweet and earthly. And he looks delicious, too, all soft and supple and soaked to the bone, smooth skin glistening in the alien lights.

> His dick twitches, straining against his pants. He's so hard it hurts. He wonders if Gordon can see, but can't imagine he can miss it.

> "C'mon," he teases, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me what I am, bro. Tell best friend Benrey what's on your mind. Bonding experience. Bros being bros."

He wrenches his eyes shut, breath coming harder and faster despite his efforts to control it. When Benrey fucking talks like that, he can't help it, okay? All-- all smug and condescending and all the shit that should get under his skin-- and does, yeah, it drives him up the wall, but. But. There must be something wrong with him, Gordon thinks desperately. Something warped in the fabric of his mind that makes a shiver race down his spine.

Then he feels warm breath puffing against his face, and he opens his eyes again. Just in time to see a broad tongue run across sharp, sharp teeth. A naked suggestion. Gordon's mouth falls open a little and hangs there, stunned speechless.

Until Benrey mutters, c'mooon, voice low and heated in a way that goes straight to Gordon's belly. And his dick twitches in the open air, fully visible this time. Fuck.

"You're," he starts, staring at his own fingertips, where they're digging into Benrey's hand.

God, this is humiliating! And he should, he should tell Benrey to fuck off and put him down, but he doesn't. That same warp in his fabric goes all the way down to his autonomic nervous system. Heart racing, blood pumping, pupils dilating and sweat beading and every other unconscious reaction he can't wrangle into submission.

Because he wants to be wrangled into submission.

Okay, Christ! He gets it! He doesn't need the color commentary from his own fucking brain!

Gordon takes a deep breath to steel himself, and then he starts again, choked and hesitant, "When you're... God, fucking, touching me and breathing on me and shit, man! Like you'd be doing any better if you had somebody's big fucking hands all over you! Okay?"

As soon as the words leave him, a fresh wave of embarrassment crests and crashes over him. Stupid, stupid, he shouldn't have said it.

> Oh. Well. That was new. Usually, there's a bit more arguing, a bit more resistance, a bit more of Benrey getting called things like "weirdo" and "freak" before they have a good "haha" about it and touch dicks. But Gordon is being so earnest and honest and talking about how he's touching him, about big hands, about doing this same thing to Benrey (sort of talking about it, anyway), and...

> ... And Benrey feels... wanted? Was that the word? Wanted?

> Yeah. He feels wanted.

> And that foreign, alien, hot-cold emotion twisting inside of him balloons and explodes, and there is a sudden, pulse-pounding sensation of want and warmth that courses through his body like a poison. He can feel drool pooling under his tongue and he swallows hard, his smile fading into something more earnest as he tries to maintain a mocking, bullying stare. Tries to keep his head in the game.

> Their game.

> "Oh. You, uh. You like it when I breathe on you? Fuckin'... secret alien power. Uh, blow dryer." He pauses and chuckles. "Heh. Blow."

> He inches Gordon closer to his face, and the closer he brings him, the more he can feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of him. Welcoming him. Blazing hot, like he is on the inside, and flushed so red he looked burned. And that warm, weird, unwelcome emotion surges again as he lets out a sigh and sits Gordon in his palm, plopping him down unceremoniously like a captured bug.

> Only he's not watching him with a childlike curiosity. He's really examining him, trying to wiggle the wrench out of the gears in his brain. With some effort, he pops it loose, and the words pour out of his mouth without any restraint.

> "Bet'cha you'd like it if I, uh... dried you off. Gentle breeze. Pick a scent. Have eight exciting flavors. Blue. Watermelon. Other blue. Tropical, uh, kiss."

> Even he isn't sure why he stressed that last word. The weird emotion spoke for him.

> His mouth snaps shut.

> Awkward.

Whatever Gordon was expecting, it wasn't "being dropped buck-naked onto Benrey's palm". His legs splay out in front of him, and he instinctively tries to draw his knees up. Doesn't change the fact that he's got his boner out in front of God and everybody.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Despite himself, he bursts out laughing. He does his best to choke it back down. "You really, uh, gotta work on your dirty talk, man."

Gordon doesn't manage to catch himself before he all but admits that, yeah, that was dirty talk. This is a situation where Benrey should be trying to talk dirty to him. It's breaking the rules a little. Breaking kayfabe. But it's hard to resist bringing it up when Benrey's trying to get him hot by talking about blowing on him like a spoonful of soup.

Then he actually thinks about what Benrey said. Tropical kiss. That's not-- that's not anything. That's not real. Benrey's just talking about kissing him, in whatever weird fucking roundabout way he usually does. A small part of him softens. It's... almost cute. If he were inclined to ever describe Benrey that way. Which he isn't.

But Gordon plays along anyway. "What are you talking about? Scents? Dude, I smelled your breath earlier, and lemme tell you, it wasn't any kind of fucking tropical kiss."

> "Uh, no. S'one of the other flavors," Benrey responds indignantly, façade breaking for a moment. "That flavor was, uh... Glade Plug-in."

> As he speaks, he reels Gordon in closer, sitting in his palm and still sopping wet. He looks so small, so delicate, so... cute, and the thought makes his heart flutter again. It grabs his tongue and twists it into an awkward knot that takes a moment to untie. He works fast, hoping to save face. Get back in the game.

> But it's hard. Harder than before, and as Gordon stares at him expectantly, he's suddenly floundering. While he is externally stiff, flat, and monotonous, on the inside he is scrambling to pick up his scattered index cards during a speech. He wants to play, but he wants to taste. He wants to stroke Gordon's head as much as his dick and he doesn't know why. He wants to say something naughty and nice all at the same time and...

> "Lemme, uh. Demo. Demon-stray-shun," Benrey says, interrupting his own thoughts. "Tropical kiss. Free sample. Here we go."

> And with that, he brings Gordon to his mouth. He presses the smaller man into his lips, a small and chaste kiss being planted in the first place he can reach: Gordon's throat. Only it's... not just his throat. It's basically his whole shoulder, and throat, and beneath his jaw. He practically envelops him, could literally swallow him if he wanted to, but pulls away and snorts a laugh as though this spontaneous act was premeditated as a joke.

> He sounds unconvincing.

> Even more so when he chuckles, "See? Coconut. Sea breeze. Lime. Seagulls. All the classic smells."

Lips press against Gordon's skin before he's fully prepared for it, and he lets out a surprised little sound. Jaw and throat alike find themselves enveloped, a heat and softness and moisture the likes of which he's never felt quite like this. And then it's over. Gordon's still left dizzily processing this as Benrey draws back.

"Did you just kiss me?" Gordon asks, stupidly. He touches a hand to his jaw, where there's a hint of moisture lingering.

The longer Gordon thinks about it, the more disoriented he becomes. Benrey's never kissed him like that before. All, fucking, sweet and tender. Those aren't words in his vocab. Like, yeah, sure, they've kissed before, but only in frantic, snarling bursts. This is strange and new.

But... at the same time... that's not all it is, is it. At this scale, chasteness is impossible. Gordon's so small in his hand, wet and splayed like some kind of foal, and those hands could wrap around every inch of him at once just to touch him. Lips, kissing wide swathes of skin. Hot breaths of air forced through Benrey's nose and spurring the hairs on the back of Gordon's neck to stand up. The unpleasant realization that Benrey is very, very big, and could probably just swallow Gordon whole if he so chose. You know. Normal things to worry about.

But he doesn't. He just lets Gordon go with a kiss. And Gordon flushes up to his ears, still a little dumbstruck.

> That was... new. That wasn't like the lust-fueled, rushed kisses he'd given Gordon while trying to get fingers around his cock, but it wasn't bad. It was something that scratched an itch he didn't know he had, something that made his lips tingle, something that milked an incredibly good feeling out of that foreign emotion swirling inside of him. It's intoxicating in a way human substances never could quite pull off, and Benrey feels an addiction already forming.

> It takes him a moment to realize that Gordon has spoken. It's just a tiny sound to his colossal ears, one he nearly misses from the full-body throb of lust and affection. It's not just his dick anymore. His heart is thundering against every bone, every inch of skin, and he feels almost overwhelmed. Again, like he's dying. This is new, it's intense.

> He wets his lips and furrows his brow, and with a surprising amount of clarity, rattles, "Yeah... uh. I guess I did, huh?"

> His tongue continues to run over his lips. His teeth. His eyes dart to Gordon. He's struggling to play the game properly, but there's a sudden bout of nerves involved. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gordon feels all the time, and the realization clonks him like a clawhammer.

> If this is how Gordon feels all the time, then no wonder he's always such a mess. It's latching onto his jaw and holding it shut like an invisible muzzle, it's pumping him full of drugs that don't exist, it's making him feel small despite being absolutely batshit levels of huge. And, it feels like he's learning... god, what had Alyx called it? Empathy? He's not sure how much he likes it, but it mingles well with the now-welcome warmth following the kiss in a way that feels positively, cathartically self-destructive.

> Benrey coughs. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't tease. He looks to Gordon with an intensity even he's surprised he can pull off.

> "You, uh. Like it? Wan' another one? I got, uh, plenty. Warehouses full. Best Friend Special. BOGO."

Gordon watches Benrey's tongue slide over his teeth like it's in slow motion, a reminder of what lies just underneath the surface. And he freezes under the intensity of Benrey's stare, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead.

"What, you mean you want to..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, man, put me down! I know you get a kick out of, fucking, making fun of me or whatever, but I don't know what you're getting out of this!"

> Unfortunately, Benrey knows exactly what he was getting out of this. A feeling, strong and tingly that's now full of a primal need that he understands quite a bit better. And, beyond that, he was getting permission. Full permission in every movement Gordon made, every lilt of his voice, every glance up at him that was filled with a hunger that his human never got quite got the hang of voicing. It's a look that Benrey knows good and well, though, from the other time they've played their little games.

> He says nothing. He just smiles, moves Gordon to his mouth again, and pushes his lips gently against his collar bone, though it stretches down to his chest. He can feel Gordon's nipple brush against the corner of his lip, hair brushing against his mouth, the taste of the strange, glittering water and skin as he parts his lips and rumbles a laugh into Gordon.

> He pulls away. He maneuvers his human. He presses his mouth against him again, brushing his stomach with a feather-light kiss that nearly encompasses his dick. He can feel it pressing against him, feel it twitch as he pokes a tongue out between his teeth and presses the very tip into his soft flesh.

> His eyes angle up to Gordon's in a silent bid for a sign. The lick intensifies, nimbly avoiding the cock poking at the very corner of his mouth.

> He continues to say nothing. He has a feeling he doesn't have to. Gordon isn't the only one who can get away with communicating silent intent in their back-and-forth.

Of course Benrey's not gonna answer him. Of course Benrey's just gonna grin at him - like an asshole - and kiss him again, lips soft against his chest. Right over his heart. It's cartoonish, is what it is. And, unfortunately, it's also more ticklish than Gordon expects, and he snorts aloud.

"What are you doing? You're being weird, dude."

When Benrey laughs back at him, his huffed breath ruffles Gordon's body hair, and it just makes that whole "sensitivity" problem worse. Gordon tries to choke down a giggle and fails. Despite himself, it's... it's nice. He almost feels light-headed.

And then Benrey's doing it again, a soft kiss against his middle, shifting him bodily into position, and Gordon laughs again, shoving at his face. Playful. Roughhousing. Their usual.

And again. "That-- That tickles, man, c'mon!"

And again, hot against his belly. Mouth parted. Benrey's chin grazes his dick, which he'd all but forgotten about in his reflexive urge to kick Benrey away. A peal of laughter bleeds into a gasp. All the worse when Gordon feels the wet-hot tip of a tongue push into his skin.

Oh God. It feels just like he thought it would. In that dream, that fucking dream, the one he can't get out of his mind. The one that's made Gordon look twice every time Benrey grins at him, teeth sharp and glossy. He freezes, afraid even to breathe too heavily and press himself all the more against Benrey's tongue.

"What are you doing," he asks again, this time less of a playful rebuff and more of a high squeak. Then it's hotter, wetter, more of the broad side of Benrey's tongue flattening against him, and his dick twitches, hard.

Fuck.

> Alyx would be disappointed, Benrey thinks. He was doing so good and playing so nice, and now he's licking a hot, wet stripe across Gordon's belly, feeling the hairs and skin against his tongue, teeth barely grazing against sensitive flesh. But, he knows things she doesn't and will never know, about the game and the language that he and Gordon have built. He squeaks in defiance, but with a tone that shows only polite refusal: Oh, I couldn't possibly, but if you insist.

> Gordon isn't pressing against his face. He isn't pushing him away. He isn't snarling and cursing, and he hasn't made any move to extricate himself. He's parting his legs invitingly, his voice is getting higher in want and anticipation, and his dick is so hard. As hard as Benrey's, to be honest, and twitching almost as if its beckoning.

> "What'm I doing?" Benrey purrs, and he can see Gordon's body tremble at the way it rumbles through him. "M'helpin'. S'what best friends do."

> With that, his jaw opens wide, his tongue slithering out and the tip dipping lower. Low enough to catch his cock, his legs, the entire bottom of his stomach. It presses hard against Gordon and then creeps upward before coiling up politely behind Benrey's jagged smile. Drool pools at the corner of his lips and he swipes it away with his spare hand.

> He opens his mouth and dives back in again, the faintest hint of flesh and salt and soap and glittering, sweet Xen water dancing across his tongue. It fills him with another burst of primal want, though it's watching the flush on Gordon grow deeper that satiates that other, newer beast nesting inside of him.

Hot, wet, sinuous, pressing against his belly like a snake, making him gasp and jerk instinctively - Gordon's head spins on contact. And Benrey's eyes keep flicking up to meet his, like he's gauging Gordon's reaction. Looking for the go-ahead. Like-- Like they haven't been playing this fucking game for hours, glorified foreplay, you know, like he hadn't let Benrey practically feel him up behind the bleachers while he was (is) stripped down to nothing.

When Gordon's legs jerk open, though, he doesn't snap them closed again. He lets them fall open, leaving room for Benrey's face. If he wanted. To put his face anywhere around there. It's embarrassing as soon as the thought hits his conscious mind, and Gordon burns a bright red down to his shoulders.

"I-I don't know if this is what every 'best friend' is supposed to d-- oh-- oh God, Benrey--"

His voice pitches up, raw and hoarse, as Benrey's tongue flattens itself against his thighs and dick. No more games. Just what this was always building up to, this whole time, if Gordon had just paid a little more attention, pushed his glasses back up on his nose and seen the hunger in Benrey's eyes. And the full knowledge of it cracks over his skull like an egg.

His chest heaves desperately to catch his breath, but it's so much, he can't--

He can't--

Benrey's going back for more, licking him in slow, deliberate strokes and chuffing like a big cat against him, and Gordon can't fucking think. His hands clench at Benrey's, then, finding that inadequate, at his own face. His hair.

"Benrey," he chokes out again. "You're gonna-- oh-- you just gave me a bath and you're gonna get me all fuckin' nasty again, man!"

It comes out as a whine that belies just how fucking stupid he sounds.

> "I'll, uh, just bathe you again. No biggie."

> Benrey's voice is low, dismissive. There is a dark and teasing chuckle hidden just under the surface, as much of a predator as the rest of him. Waiting for a moment to strike, to snag his prey and drag it beneath the surface. But not now, not now.

> Benrey likes to play with his food.

> His alien tongue is strangely dexterous, encircling Gordon's thighs and tracing wet lines into the crease where they met his body. Faint trails of Sweet Voice-tainted saliva leave visible marks of where he's been, allowing Gordon to ogle at exactly when Benrey is doing to him even after he's moved on. Even after he's moved from one leg to the other, to his belly, to his cock.

> His own aches as he flattens his tongue against his dick and licks upwards, like an animal lapping water. His tongue curls delicately and folds back into his mouth, scraping against pointed teeth before emerging again. Hungry, tasting, teasing and growing faster, more deliberate. The taste of Gordon swirl in his mouth and he feels a heat building in his belly so hot and dangerous that it almost makes him feel ill.

> And it intensifies with every squeak Gordon makes, every pant that falls out of his mouth. It drives him onward, a leopard on the prowl, gradually cornering its next meal. His own breath is becoming ragged, his mind a messy whorl of emotions and thoughts that make time seem as though it hardly matters. He's long forgotten how long he's been teasing, eyes nearly crossed to focus on Gordon. Benrey has long been lost in the sounds he makes, the way he writhes.

> It's almost like divine inspiration when it strikes him that he should maybe push him a bit harder.

> Delicately, and uncharacteristically slow, he rolls his tongue back into his mouth. He parts his lips and fits them around Gordon's length. He can't suck, not at this size, but he hums in satisfaction, the vibrations pulsing straight from him and into his human.

> If he wasn't so afraid of doing damage, he'd have smiled.

"We don't have time to--" Gordon breaks off in a moan, that compulsive need to worry stopped in its tracks by Benrey's tongue.

He shivers from his neck down to his toes when it worms around his thighs, digging into those sensitive creases in his skin. Something like a laugh bubbles out of him, but it's also something like a whimper, with a hint of a plea.

"You can't," he gasps, fighting for breath, "you can't do this to me, man, you don't even-- ah! Fuck! Don't even know!"

Gordon turns his face to the side and buries a noise into Benrey's hand. Makes it easier to cope when Benrey licks up to his chest and swirls his tongue, his own breath loud and hot around it. Tasting everywhere he can get to.  Benrey just keeps going, salivating and groaning for the sheer thrill of it, and it makes heat pulse off Gordon's skin in waves.

Faster, harder, enveloping him in ways he had only dreamed possible, something only he can do - Benrey - just for him, he doesn't do this shit with anyone else, how could he. Gordon squirms and gasps in his grip, legs straining to arch into that wet heat.

Agony creeps into his voice, low and haggard. "Benrey," he whines, "how are you so fucking... good at this, why are you even--"

He doesn't get to finish that thought before Benrey's lips wrap around him, and he hums, smug as a cat that's gotten the cream, and Gordon cries out so hard that some winged thing bursts out from a nearby outcropping. How is-- Why is he-- what does he even get out of this, he thinks wildly, brain desperately clinging to neuroticism even in the face of sexual obliteration.

> Every time Gordon shifts his weight, whines, looks away, says a word, Benrey feels that warm, weird emotion surge through him in a way that defies explanation. A feeling he thinks he can now identify, but is hesitant to verbalize, lest he somehow break the rules. But, it's so much stronger than before, especially after everything they'd been through, especially with the way Gordon is finally saying what he really means. Instead of snapping that he's being weird, he's whimpering praise and the words hang crookedly in his head like paintings in a forgotten room.

> "Benrey, how are you so fucking... good at this?"

> The boner he'd been ignoring for what seemed like millennia is now aching, and he pushes his hips against the side of the island and grinds upwards in hopes of finding something resembling relief. Unsurprisingly, what he finds is a crotch full of rocks, and he winces even as he continues to lavish Gordon with attention, breath hot out of his nose as he continues to hum and mouth at his dick. As he unfurls his tongue once more and presses it against his entire body and pushes Gordon against the palm of his hand, something akin to a wet hug. As the tip once again finds Gordon's cock and greedily laps at it, mesmerized by how prominent it is compared to the rest of his soft body.

> There is no give. Just hardness, sinking into the sensitive muscle.

> As he continues on--gently sucking on entire hands, tracing circles into the wet skin of his stomach, tasting the inside of his thighs while grazing his junk with the side of his tongue--he grunts. He feels his hips rocking just out of Gordon's sight. He clenches his free hand when its not in use pulling Gordon's legs apart for easier access or fiddling with his arm to get access to his fingers.

> It's instinctual, and impossible to ignore. He aches, and he knows Gordon can see he's losing himself to this as much as his prey.

> He waits to see if Gordon will have anything to say about it.

Gordon grabs desperately at Benrey's face, a nasal noise forced out of him on every exhale. It's more than a blowjob, it's, it's Benrey humming through his entire fucking body, okay? He can feel it down to his bones, and the inside of Benrey's mouth is achingly warm and so, so wet, and Benrey just keeps mouthing at him, tongue unfurling behind his teeth to lap up Gordon's length in a hot stripe.

It's... it's good. It's so good. Gordon closes his eyes tight and moans aloud.

Benrey moans, too, as his lips part from Gordon's dick to envelop his fingers instead. He pants through his nose and shuffles awkwardly, and the uncomfortable motion gets Gordon to open his eyes again. And he really looks, this time.

Oh.

He's hard.

Benrey's hard, and he's rocking his hips forward into the barren earth. And he's got his hands on Gordon instead of himself. Thumbing his chest and spreading him open. The burden of that knowledge makes Gordon pant like a dog.

"Oh my God," he warbles, voice cracking as Benrey draws patterns into his stomach with his tongue, "are you-- are you not gonna--"

Gordon slaps his hands over his mouth, suddenly regretting his words. No, he's not going to ask if Benrey's gonna touch his own dick, Jesus Christ. That's none of his business. What does he even care, anyway. It's not like he wants to see it. Not like he's curious about how big it would look once Benrey whipped it out. Gordon's aware of the general, you know, size and girth, proportionally, but it looks so much bigger down there, even in the confines of his work pants. It's not really fair.

And then Benrey grunts against him and flicks the tip of his tongue against his dick even faster, and Gordon can't stop the agonized whine that forces its way out of him.

> Benrey's tongue rolls up Gordon's body yet again, and again, and again. It envelops his dick, his thighs, his stomach, and everything in between. He watches, he waits, and eventually he hears Gordon's voice small and broken from his palm. It is enough to make him recoil, to open the floodgates in his mind. That warm feeling floods the inside of his skull and drowns out every thought out but lust, who is gasping for air defiantly.

> "Huh?"

> Benrey pauses, looking down at Gordon--soaked and slimy and oh-so-small--laying with his legs parted, his face flushed, his eyes locked on the very prominent erection straining against his pants. His own trail down to it and he smirks as the weight of Gordon's almost-question hits him.

> "Oh... huh? Wha? Touch myself? Is, uh, is that what you were gonna say?"

> He leans down over Gordon, tongue sticking out between sharp teeth but frustratingly distant from his body. The hand he'd once used to manhandle his human pulled away, fingers slipping into his waistband behind his belt. He sneers, but there is no actual malice behind it. Feigned mockery, just to make Gordon grow brighter. Redder.

> "You... seem to like the idea. You, uh. You... you wanna see? That what you want? Wanna see best friend Benrey's massive hog? Wanna... wanna touch it?"

> A pause, a laugh.

> "Want me to touch it? Seems you like the idea. I can do it. Just, uh, gotta say so."

Gordon mumbles a quiet plea into his hands, begging for some higher power to-- to do something. He doesn't know what. All he knows is that Benrey's sticking his tongue between his teeth, now, looking at him as if he's some problem to be solved or some piece of furniture to wrangle into place. Instead of keeping that tongue right where he had it. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath through his nose. He's not disappointed, actually. That would involve caring about what Benrey was doing at all. Which he doesn't.

"You can... you can do whatever you want, man. It's your life," he says, not meeting Benrey's eyes.

Not like he wants to... oh, God. That's Benrey's hand in his pants, isn't it? Slipping under the waistband before Gordon’s even finished his sentence. A sound escapes him that he really wishes wouldn't. He’s really into this, huh, Gordon thinks distantly, just as surprised by the realization as he has been all the previous times he’s figured out that, yes, Benrey actually is pretty hot for him. Like he’s still waiting for the Band-Aid to be ripped off, even now. Even after Benrey’s sucked his dick in a fucking dumpster. (You take what you can get.)

And-- And there it is, huh. Larger than life. Gordon swallows, a little intimidated. Then he wants to curse himself out for feeling intimidated by Benrey’s dick. Freud would have a field day with him.

[qhazomb]

BACK TO THIS POST, and some of the major things that would play out differently if the events of HLVRAI eventually happened in the THINGVRAI setting:

benrey wouldn’t follow gordon into the test chamber (but would still use the passport thing to follow him a good bit as a thinly veiled excuse to chat up his boyfriend s’more before work :3c)

rescas still happens, as it didn’t matter how fast or slow gordon pushed the crystal into the laser. shit was always gonna hit the fan.

once gordon, benrey, bubby, tommy, and coomer all gather up, they’re at first gonna make a plan to head to the surface to leave, but then “Oh no, wait! Darnold! He- he’s down in Mixology!” so then they change the plan to head down there to grab darnold and THEN escape.

benrey assimilates a xen alien and is very briefly able to pick up that Something Weird is going on in their brains. like something that wasn’t supposed to be there. couldn’t get a better feel of it before it quickly faded, once he’d fully absorbed the other alien’s brain.

benrey gets cut in half by the door, and now has to find an alternate route to get his other half that was separated from the rest of him and the team back to them. he’s no longer concerned about outing himself as an alien in black mesa cause lol those bastards got way more pressing concerns at the moment. and also might not ever recover from this localized apocalypse that’s tearing the facility apart.

no skeletons freaking gordon and the others (but mostly gordon) out this time.

benrey gets his biomass back together when they reach the elevator (where benrey showed up after his first ‘respawn’ in canon)

benrey doesn’t get separated from the group again after that.

bubby and benrey don’t help stage the ambush for gordon. bubby doesn’t because him and gordon have known each other a good while by this point, and bubby considers him a friend, and like hell he’s gonna hand over a friend to those bootboy bastards. benrey is very well acquainted with the human body and all it’s strengths and limitations and also gordon is his fucking boyfriend and the first other sapient that was ever nice to him even after finding out what he really is, he’s not gonna hurt gordon, hell no.

gordon still gets ambushed, as he still needed to hit up that med station in the room. only this time after the lights go out, the soldiers only manage to go as far as knocking gordon to the ground before one of them lets out a blood curdling scream that quickly becomes muffled by horrible flesh tearing and meaty squelching sounds. other soldier kicks the lights back on to see his buddy getting engulfed and merged into some fucked up bloody mass of flesh and teeth and insectoid limbs. and eyes. lots of very angry eyes that are glaring daggers right at him. before the remaining soldier can try to shoot though, tommy nails him with a well-placed bullet, now that the lights are on again.

benrey learns from the memories of the bootboy he ate that they wanted some data storage from gordon’s HEV suit, that’s apparently stored in the right gauntlet, and they were planning on cutting his fucking arm off to get at it. major fucked up, bro. benrey temp assumes the soldier snack’s form, and is able to send a fake message that, while they caught freeman, the data storage was too damaged to recover, and that manages to get the bootboys off their backs. well, to a degree. the rest of the soldiers there are still gonna try and kill them along with every other living person left in the facility. but hey, at least they’re not specifically chasing down the science team, now.

they get to mixology and are glad to see darnold is okay (and also find out he had no idea what the hell was going on). their plan WAS to then try and go home after this, but by this point they’d been urged by so many other scientists and guards to get to the lambda lab, as they need help trying to stop all this.

darnold actually comes with this time! still doesn’t fight, though. benrey takes advantage of the extra biomass he’d gained and splits off an extra body guard for potion bro.

darnold also doesn’t go with them to xen. benrey’s extra body stays with darnold, and is able to keep darnold informed on what’s going down on the science team’s side of things as they happen.

benrey isn’t the ‘final boss’ this time, and the team actually get to see the nihilanth. which they’re not entirely sure how to deal with. benrey gets an idea though.

benrey launches himself at the nihilanth and manages to get a good couple of stings in, injecting it with clusters of his own cells. he gets smacked, hard, and then just lets the rest of his biomass lay there playing dead because owwwwwwwwwwwww. after that, the rest of the team are basically just having to ‘survive the clock’ while benrey’s cells make b-lines for the nihilanth’s most vital organs and start assimilating them. after he’s successfully replaced the nihilanth’s organs with himself, he just. stops doing organ things. no more beating heart, or breathing lungs, none of that. obviously this kills the nihilanth. not the most showy or climactic victory, but gordon doesn’t give a shit, he’s just happy they’re all fucking still alive.

i want whether mr. coolatta is actually human or not to be really vague, so no obvious alien power displays. thus tommy’s dad isn’t the one who gets them back out of xen. benrey is! he managed to pick up that portal creating ability from the nihilanth, and he opens up the way back home for everybody.

they don’t end up at chuck e cheese once they cross over, though. instead, they’re out in the desert by the roadside, a ways away from (what’s left of) the facility. darnold and benrey’s other body are waiting there... along with tommy’s dad, the three of them waiting in a big black van. mr. coolatta showed up and lead darnold and benrey up and out of the facility, and then drove them out there... where he somehow knew benrey would open up a portal from xen to get the rest of him and the science team back to earth.

“dude, tommy, there is no way your dad’s human. like for real, that guy seems even less human than ME.” “Right!? FINALLY someone agrees with me!” “I don- I don’t know what you and Mr. Freeman are talking about, Ben. My dad- he’s just a guy!”

the science team are all given nice fat hush money checks to keep quiet about all the shit that went down at black mesa. and benrey.... is allowed to continue on as he was. mr. coolatta will make no reports of his non-human status to his... employers... out of respect and thankfulness for helping stop all that business with the nihilanth, and keeping his son safe.

...mr. coolatta does make one vague comment about the antarctic outpost incident, though. a vague and very slightly threatening sounding comment.

benrey, uh, assures him he’s... chill. like, totally. cool as a fuckin’ ‘cuke over here, man.

the science team all decide that quitting working for black mesa and moving out of new mexico sounds like a great idea.

[6kuros]

me: hmmm today i will post a short snippet of a thing i wrote and never finished but is decent on its own. post hlvrai benry coomer gordon interaction or someting.....i dont ever think ive shared my hlvrai writings before so enjoy.......

word count: 1240

benrey came to know the times when the sun disappeared as nighttime. night was when people were supposed to sleep. which was why every time gordon had laid down on the rigid pavement of black mesa, and instructed the others to go to sleep before he turned off the game, he closed off with a "good night", one directed towards each member of the party-- with the exception of benrey, whose presence with the team was inconsistent. 

"Sleeping is almost like recharging a H.E.V. suit-- except you're the suit, and your bed is a charging station," doctor coomer explained with his ever-cheery tone. benrey didn’t really understand that either. he generally did not understand doctor coomer and did not care to try.

benrey didn't have a bed, which didn't end up mattering much because the first two days and nights at gordon’s house, he never slept. after being shown the tv and its game console, as well as around the house, he found ways to keep himself entertained. he liked the grainy blue of the tv screen when everything else was dark. no better time of day existed for him to sit an inch away from the tv as the bright fuzzy static poured into his eyes.

gordon slept the most. sometimes from the late evening until when the sun was past the middle of the sky the next day. tommy also slept this late sometimes, but he went to bed hours later than gordon. bubby and darnold's sleeping schedules were closest to gordon's, with a few hours shaved off before midday.

the third day, benrey found himself passed out on the couch. he woke up feeling something unfamiliar. he decided he did not like the feeling; it was sort of like when he was bored, but all over his body instead of his mind, and at the same time his body hurt. the kitchen was bustling and the sun was bright at the time of this awakening.

benrey slept earlier that evening, and ended up awake around 2 am. sleep was bullshit, he concluded, opting to sleep only when he felt like it. this was usually until he stayed up to a point of exhaustion and his body insisted that he get some fucking rest.

on his fifth or sixth day outside of the game-- he was starting to lose count --he wandered upstairs during the middle of the night. benrey spent most of his waking hours on the lower level, but boredom was typically right around the corner.

he was creeping down the narrow hallway when he was lured to gordon’s bedroom. he froze in place, a few feet away from the stair banister. muffled thunking and what gordon sounded like when he was panicking echoed through the walls. benrey traced the sounds to the room benrey had entered the house through-- gordon’s bedroom. a pathetic little light just barely shone from the door crack.

the noises got louder as benrey clutched the doorknob turned it to open the door. the light was the bedroom closet, its door wide open, illuminating the room enough so that benry could see gordon. gordon was in bed, his wailing achingly loud now. he thrashed and jerked in the sheets.

"No," benrey caught some of gordon's desperate mutterings. "No, no, why-- they-- no-- Benrey!"

"what?" benrey said.

then benrey realized gordon was asleep. he was moving and talking in his sleep.

gordon screamed and benrey jumped a little. it was odd that gordon stayed in bed so much, if even then he could hardly get a moment's peace.

gordon groaned. he wasn't thrashing around anymore. he held himself up with the arm he had, and trembled, head drooping at his pillows. he gasped and cried softly.

not sure if gordon was still entirely asleep or not, benrey began low at first; the equivalent to a hum. blue orbs were sent and concentrated just a little past his mouth.

gordon’s body still shook. benrey came a few steps closer, so that the sweet voice would hover near gordon's head. benrey couldn't see his face, but it was reassuring to that see gordon quietly lay down. benrey kept singing, changing inflection only occasionally in order to attain a simple tune. he didn't stop until gordon's back was rising and falling rhythmically.

be observed gordon. his shape was sloping and gentle, exposed by blankets tossed aside. only when the glowing blue orbs evaporated into nothing, did benrey leave.

he backed out of the room slowly.

“Hello, Benrey.”

benrey whirled around. doctor coomer stood in front of benrey with his arms behind his back. his facial expression was inscrutible in the dark.

"I saw you in there. No ulterior motives, I hope?" doctor coomer chuckled. they stood in the silent darkness for an elongated moment.

coomer’s mouth opened with a sigh, "You've caused quite some harm to Mr. Freeman you know? It's going to take some time for all of us to get used to you being here. Especially Gordon… I haven't the slightest idea why he brought you back. When he was just beginning to get better."

"Perhaps it's selfish for me to care about Mr. Freeman because of what he did for us. When I realized what I was… what I was a part of … it pained me to think that the relationship Gordon and I had might have been artificial all along. And that when he finished the game there would be… nothing."

benrey pursed his lips and waited for doctor coomer to get to the point. he didn’t really like listening to coomer berate him with flowery wordiness.

the doctor broke his intense gaze when he had said this, looking forlorn and to the side. then he looked back at benrey. "However, Mr. Freeman proved it was more than that. He treats me as if I'm real. And he brought us out of the game. I'd like to believe it was because he cared deeply about each and every one of us… but… he brought you back too."

silence suffocated the hallway. another new feeling spawned within him. in his stomach, something creeping and underlying that made him squirm.

"Looking back on it, Gordon and I had some wonderful memories together. But I've also realized a lot of his experience was far from pleasant. And Gordon doesn't need to be reminded of it anymore than he already is."

doctor coomer tilted his head up to meet benrey's height.

"You should know that I'm not the only one who wouldn't hesitate to get rid of you if any harm were to come to Mr. Freeman."

benrey’s throat went dry. he tried to move past doctor coomer but a few steps down the stairs and there was a hand tightening around his forearm.

“Do you understand that, Benrey?” doctor coomer whispered. he squeezed tighter and benrey couldn’t tug himself free.

“yes,” said benry. his feet were teetering on the edge of a step as he twisted and pulled. “let go of me."

he stumbled a few steps down the stairs when coomer released him. he didn't look back at coomer until he made it to the bottom of the stairs, past the corner that led to the kitchen. his breath was lodged in his throat. coomer faced gordon's door with his arms neatly folded behind him once more. over and over coomer's tellings echoed in benrey's mind as he slinked away.

[y2kvr]

the recap zone: check essential info here

You- Your messages are sent to gordon/the science team via email! You can try to help gordon, talk to the other assistants, try to help benrey take over the computer...

Or you could send them to coolmathgames again.

That’s- that’s FINE.

PLOT BEATS:

- Gordon realizes he’s stuck in his computer, Benrey tried not to “wake the others up”, but everyone activated anyways. Benrey tells Gordon his inverted heart necklace will protect him.

- We learn that because he’s stuck in the computer, Gordon’s body acts like any other code or computer would, meaning he doesn’t need to eat, but also, his brain “lags” because his computer is much less advanced than him. Finally, because he needs to “free up storage”, he’s been losing his memories.

- After many persistent emails, Gordon opens Benrey’s love letter, and gets a virus, only for Bubby to save him.

- The group tried to find the Core, also known as the exit, on the founding company’s website, only to find it overwritten by a virus.

- They tried the desktop, and Gordon learns of Radio TV Solutions being defunct, and the bluescreen timer.

- They also found Benrey’s diary, and it’s revealed he was a virus trying to infect as much people as he can with Y2KVR, but got stuck inside when it was shut down.

- Forzen gets infected thanks to Benrey urging the emails to help him, but he’s quickly saved as well.

- Coomer gives Bubby one of Benrey’s love letters, and they start dating, but Bubby doesn’t get infected.

- Tommy suggests they go find “the Restrictor” on the deep web.

- The Restrictor invites them onto the deep web.

- Everyone wakes up in the deep web, realizing that because their code literally doesn’t allow them to see it, they’ll have to fumble around in the dark to find Tommy’s dad.

- After letting it slip Gordon’s middle name is Barnabas, the emails’ jeering ends up being too much for Gordon, and he disconnects.

- Gordon reappears, infected with the virus after Benrey gave him a letter saying it was an apology from the emails.

- Bubby seems to not notice Gordon is infected, which means Tommy takes things into his own hands and uses some of his dad’s power to cure Gordon. However, this leaves Tommy exhausted and he must rest for the rest of the day.

- We see Joshua for the first time and it’s revealed Gordon’s ex is a programmer named Spork.

- Benrey, annoyed with the emails, decides to cut his losses, activating the virus he had installed during Coomer’s confession.

- He bluescreens the other AIs, and runs off with Gordon and an infected Bubby.

- The restrictor brings Tommy back after the emails ask him to, and they set off to rescue Gordon and Bubby.

- Dr. Coomer is acting strangely- his pent-up anger is literally getting blocked by his code.

- Bubby, now going by Dr. Feelgood, tries to infect everyone else, but he gets defeated and apologizes to Coomer.

- Benrey and Gordon have a sleepover, only for Benrey to realize... he doesn’t want to do this.

- The others rescue Gordon, shattering the necklace that allowed him to be infected in the first place. Benrey, believing that he’ll never escape, gives up.

- As Benrey ends up sending emails to himself to reflect his inner monologue, the others find the restrictor.

- He congratulates them on a job well done, but all of a sudden, Benrey believes that his last chance is upon him- he absorbs the restrictor’s power and becomes the admin.

- The group is forced to confront their worst fears, but with the help of the emails, everyone is able to come together as a group.

- Unfortunately, thanks to his new admin powers, Benrey’s able to infect everyone and corner Gordon.

- That’s when we see Gordon’s ex open the door...

- After a day of seeing what the past was like, we find out Spork was working on the HAV suit- a powerful antivirus that could combat Benrey.

- Gordon frees everyone from Benrey’s control, and faces him at last.

- He finally gets through to Benrey, and the Restrictor is released.

- Everyone is saved, and Benrey AND Gordon are finally free.

Y2KVR/Radio TV Solutions- The defunct company that made the y2kvr program. A smaller group of programmers not really present in the scene yet, they were hoping to break new ground with this revolutionary tech- however, the y2k scare caused them to program a protective measure into the ai, then shutting the program down and anxiously awaiting y2k. Once the new year had passed, the company realized y2k was prevented, and tried to save their years of hard work, only to find their own protective measure was what doomed them. The company was later liquidated.

The characters in general- If tricked into opening a love letter, the science team or gordon will get infected with a virus- this might cause them to act real lovey-dovey. Also, if any of the ai besides benrey finds out that the year 2000 has passed, they’ll bluescreen thanks to a protective measure the programmers put in. This goes in real-time, so the day of the month corresponds to y2kvr’s days, but the month is december 1999- if Gordon doesn’t escape before new years, the entire computer will bluescreen and he’ll be stuck forever. Alternatively, if all characters manage to become infected, Benrey will escape and gordon will be stuck as a virus.

Gordon- Human, stuck in his computer, which seems to have downloaded the Y2KVR program without his permission. He comes from the year 2002. His body acts like the other assistants, thanks to it being made of the same code. However, being a former human, this means his brain “lags” more than he expects it to, and he’s losing more and more memories thanks to him having a lower “storage space”.

His worst childhood memory is throwing up in a showbiz pizza.

Benrey- A virus, but he insists he’s “the messenger”, and none of the other assistants believe he’s a virus. Insists Gordon takes the love letter he has for him. He gave Gordon the inverted heart necklace, and insists it will protect him. A diary that might be his implies that he wanted to infect as many people as he could by latching onto y2kvr, only to get stuck when it shut down. He wants out, and he’ll do that by infecting the computer. The only nonhuman who knows the truth about y2k.

Dr. Coomer - The main desktop assistant of y2kvr! Had a close shave when he almost learned that radio tv solutions was liquidated in 2000, and almost blue screened, but thanks to the emails, he remains active! Happily dating Bubby. His coding acts up sometimes when he feels emotions too strongly.

Bubby- The firewall! He can get rid of malware, which means if he’s virus-free, everyone else will be, too. Dating Coomer. Egotistical.

Tommy- The browsing buddy! Resides on the internet and gets very excited about using websites and gifs. His dog, sunkist, is an alternate browsing buddy! He says his dad is the restrictor, and that they’re not supposed to bother him. Is the main navigator of the internet, so he’s the one who handles exploring.

Darnold- The operator! Always lingering, but a bit too shy to speak up. Can keep notes for gordon, but won’t read them for privacy’s sake. Has the high score on galaxy pinball.

Forzen- The music guru! Loves playing “phat beats”, and will play some mood music if you ask. He was talking a lot about love songs for a while though... maybe he did a sketchy download?

“The Restrictor”- Tommy’s father. Resides on the Deep Web, keeping the user out of it. The user was never supposed to see him, but he may be the group’s only remaining option.

Coolmathgames- The recurring joke here is sending Gordon back to coolmathgames to cause problems on purpose. You can do it if you’d like. It’s nice there.

Spork- Gordon’s ex and good friend. Was hired to optimize Y2KVR, only to get fired after they were considered “too expensive”. Helps Gordon get out of the computer.

[artb0t]

[ALT text for basic image I.D.s, full I.D.s for each page under the read more.]

Pure White, He’s Not Alright

Heh, so here’s the (prologue) comic for that au @dottilyn and I have been working on. the file name is “au meant to hurt you” and i hope it achieves that goal <3

Some minor ramblings under the image ids below the cut if you wanna know more!

[Page 1 - Split into 8 panels, three in the top and bottom rows with two in the center. The first three panels show a dark purple side table in the bottom left corner and a pale foot in the bottom right all in front of a dark grey wall. A phone with a pale pink case sits on top of the table. In the first panel the phone glows and text reads “buzz buzz” in orange. in panel 2 the phone is dark, as is the rest of the room. Panel three has the phone lit up again with the “Buzz Buzz” text. Panel four is an overhead of the phone so it can be read. It is at 3% battery, with a time of 3:46 AM. There are three visible notifications on the phone, one marked as new. The new one reads “Discord, today, 3:6 AM. G.H.R.T.V. : Bro? Are you okay? Normally I’d hear back b-” before getting cut off. The two older messages read “Discord, yesterday, 3:14 PM. G.H.R.T.V. :Shouldn’t be an issue though, right?” and “Discord, yesterday, 10:21 AM. G.H.R.T.V. : Speaking of -(cut off) -ip next week...” Panel five shows the same as panel four, but a pale hand is trying to activate the screen, blocking most of the text. Panels six to eight also show the same as panels one to three, but slightly more zoomed out with Benrey standing in frame, trying to use the phone. He is a pale man in a dark navy shirt, white shorts, and shoulder-length bed head, looking extremely sleepy, like the phone has woken him up. In panel six he’s saying “broooo..... stopppp buzzing.” In Panel seven, Benrey says “It’s too early” while yawning. There are little yawn bubbles around him, and his finger is overlaid through the phone, at a lighter opacity. In panel eight, Benrey has noticed his finger going through the phone with comically open eyes. The yawn bubbles have popped and he is saying “huh?”

Page 2 - This page has 3 small, vertical panels in the upper left corner, overlapping each other slightly while the other 3/4s of the page are one larger scene. In the first small panel, Benrey’s full body is shown and we can see he’s not wearing socks or shoes either as if he just crawled out of bed. He is grabbing the side table for support, and phasing his foot through the side of his Black Mesa Security helmet, which is sitting on the floor. The next is zoomed in slightly to cut off at his knees. This time, Benrey’s hand is going through the side table again, and he looks shocked. The text reads “....whu?” above his head. In the third panel, Benrey is turning away from the left towards the right with an extremely confused expression. The Final panel shows Benrey from the knees up, facing to the right past the viewer. The side table is beside him with the phone (buzzing again) on it as well as his work ID. Benrey’s vest is on a second, shorter side table. On a bed across from the side tables is a pale body. Only the lower legs are visibly, but it is the same skin colour and frame as Benrey himself. He’s looking distraught towards where the head of the body would be, out of frame.

Page 3 - This page has seven panels, split into three rows vertically. In panel one, Benrey is leaning down, looking over what is his body, lying on the bed and slightly blurred to look out of focus. He is shown from the shoulders up, extremely confused, and is saying “Bro, I’m supposed to be IN that.” In the second panel, Benrey has stoop up slightly and can now be seen from the waist up. He’s sticking one of his arms through the body towards the camera, even more concerned. “Why am I not IN that?” He’s asking. In panel three and four, the camera is placed behind the phone on the side table, viewing Benrey from behind. He’s still got his hand in the body, looking away, as the phone buzzes again. In Panel four, he’s turning to look over his shoulder at the phone. In panel five, we see over Benrey’s shoulder as he goes back to the phone. His face is not visible but he is sayin “Oh come on.” Panel six is a close up on the phone. We can see the time is now 3:48 AM, the battery is down to 2% and the new message reads “Discord, Today 3:48 AM. G.H.R.T.V. : Okay well -(cut off)- get back to me soon.” Panel seven, the final one, has a view looking up at Benrey who’s face is lit up from the glow of the phone. He looks quite distressed and is saying “please let this work.”

Page 4 - This page has four panels with images and an additional two with only text. The page has one Main panel, the last one, and everything else is set overtop of it. The first two panels are small, rectangular and floating near the top of the page, flanked by text in “Benrey Speech Blue” saying “no” repeatedly and getting larger each time. The first panel shows his hand almost touching the top of the phone from a dramatic side angle, as the phone gives a “Low Power” warning. The second is more zoomed in, and shows the phone screen shutting itself off. The third panel is wide horizontal on the next row down and we can see the top of the side table where the now off phone sits, Benrey from the waist up, and his body lying on the bed. Standing Benrey has a hand in his hair and his face all screwed up in distress. From this point to the bottom of the page, all the lines fade to white from black, and all of the colours fade to black. There is a smaller horizontal panel with only Benrey blue-text which vertically fades to white that says “NO” and a smaller box underneath that which says “... please”. The final panel shows Benrey leaning against the wall between the side tables and the bed with his body on it. He’s got his head against his knees with his arms wrapped around his legs.

END I.D.]

SO ! this is not a “benrey is a xen creature/experiment/glitch/game construct” au, there is no Res Cas, but there Is an experiment that brings our normal main cast together. We don’t have a full plot outlines, but we do have most of our setup figured out! 

Full time security guard, part time glitch-hunter, Mr. Benrey Benrey Benrey has been online friends with his favourite twitch speedrunner, GHRTV for a while now. They were planning on meeting up! Too bad Benrey can’t remember what happened in the last 48 hours, including what ... killed him. When he wakes up again, he’s back in his apartment, but things look different, and things keep getting more different as it turns out he’s been gone for a while. His apartment has been resold as “move in ready” to a recent PHD graduate moving across the country with his toddler son. And well, wouldn’t you know it’s (ex, now) speedrunner Gordon Freeman, finally getting a chance to use his scientific skills. 

Well... Benrey is dead, right? And he’s not sure why he’s still around (and he really doesn’t want to leave) but there’s nothing against having a little fun with his old best friend, right? And you know what, Gordon Freeman is a busy man and he could use some help having fun again. Either someone to help out with having a toddler, even if they can’t really touch him, or someone to just make him laugh again.

don’t worry, it’ll all work out :)

We’ve got ideas and scenes and goofs of all sorts but we have really been having fun coming up with ways to make this as found family as possible. Let everyone rely on and love each other! They deserve it! But also lots of Angst haha. Its basically us using a lot of ideas which would be really fun but are small on their own, and pushing them all together for the gay rights <3

[goatbi]

When You Make A Demon Sad, So He Adopts You, Chapter Eight

Gordon had a feeling living with these demons wouldn’t be nearly as bad if he wasn’t in a dorm room. There was next to no space for him, let alone four extra demons. 

At this point, he had finally gotten names. The bone-tailed demon was Bubby, the one that Benrey had called out for the dramatic entrance, and the frog demon was Coomer. Bubby called him Harold, but he seemed to be the only one who did, so Gordon stuck with Coomer, just to be safe. 

 At least they seemed to understand there wasn’t really that much room. Usually there was a rotation of two demons who hung around with him at all times, making sure he was drinking water and eating food, which, honestly, Gordon kind of appreciated. He hadn’t realize how much of his headache came from dehydration. 

To both his surprise and pleasure, Tommy seemed the most likely to stay. He hadn’t really left for any sort of long period of time for the past few weeks, and was the main one keeping Gordon from going insane again. The others had their moments, of course, they had all decided this human was their human, but Tommy had only left for an hour at a time here and there, the longest he had been gone having been an entire morning a Wednesday, and he returned worried that Gordon had managed to kill himself in the time he was gone. 

Gordon honestly understood. He did have a tendency to self destruct. Everyone had commented on that. 

Luckily for him, it seemed the the threat of taking their funding away had been enough for his parents for now, and they hadn’t actually gone through with it. For now, they seemed content to threaten him, holding it over his head like a piano in a cartoon, dangling dangerously from a string that should not have been able to hold it up in the first place. Gordon, of course, had no plans of stopping his presentation as male, but also had no plans of telling them that. 

He just had to talk to a few professors. 

The demons had begun to regularly ask if they could kill his family. The answer never changed from a no, but Gordon found it amusing. That must have partially been the reason that they had kept the joke going. Hopefully. Gordon had no doubt that if he gave them permission they would, in a heart beat, but Gordon still felt... wrong, about condemning them like that. 

Maybe that would change. 

“Mr. Freeman?” Gordon blinked, eyes focusing back in on his laptop, a half written essay on the screen, cursor blinking at him accusingly. He blinked back at it, before turning towards Tommy, who was perched on the other bed across the room. It didn’t get use, at least not from a human, since Gordon had the room alone. 

“What’s up Tommy?” 

“You’ve been staring at the-the essay for five minutes now.” Oh shit. He had completely spaced out. Gordon laughed softly, pushing away from the table. 

“Sorry, uh, got lost in my thoughts there. Maybe it is time for a break.” He stood carefully, stretching his arms up above his head, shoulders and back popping as he did. His shirt rode up a bit, and he huffed, tugging it back down slightly. 

“You should go for a walk!” Tommy said, getting up off the bed. Gordon raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You just wanna go out, huh?” Gordon asked, and Tommy grinned, nodding a bit. 

“I wanna... take Sunkist out this time, though.” Sunkist was Tommy’s dog. Gordon didn’t know too much about her, since she seemed to stay down in hell, but Tommy had wanted him to meet her for awhile now. 

“Alright. Why not?” 

He grinned, and the room was filled with a familiar rush of heat as the portal opened once more. Gordon hummed at it quietly, as Tommy disappeared for a moment, only to return with one of the largest dogs Gordon had ever seen. 

She was large and shaggy, up to Tommy’s hip, and Tommy was pretty tall, over seven foot if Gordon remembered correctly. Her face was a skull, bright red shining between her teeth and out the eye sockets, almost smokey. Gordon wasn’t entirely sure if the bone that was along her body, down her back and on her sides, was her own bone, or if it was bone that was scavenged as armor, but either way, it stood bright against the dark fur. Smoke rose off of her back, and Gordon was sure there would be fire arching down her back if it wasn’t a worry in the dorm room. 

“This is Sunkist!” Tommy grinned, and Sunkist barked, a loud booming noise, and, if they hadn’t proved the demons couldn’t be heard by anyone they didn’t want to be heard by, Gordon would have panicked about someone calling the RA. He still half did. It almost felt like the room shook with the force of how loudly she barked. “She has a more... human friendly form! But I wanted... you to see her like this!” 

Honestly? 

“She looks amazing.” Gordon said, completely truthfully, and Sunkist’s bone covered tail thumped heavily against the ground. “But uh... We’re not supposed to have pets in here?” and Tommy just grinned at him. 

“Don’t worry. She can be invisible until we get outside!” And, as he said that, Sunkist seemed to melt from existence, the smoke arching off her body the last sign she had been there at all. Gordon blinked. 

Well alright. 

Gordon already knew that Tommy could hide the more demonic features. The scales around his body turning to places of countless freckles, his ears no longer finned, the ridges, which Gordon had recently learned was one set of gills, along his neck melted into his skin. Luckily, however, Tommy’s eyes only formed pupils, instead of the color changing. Gordon didn’t think he would be able to handle it if he lost the ability to look at that bright yellow. 

“Let’s go than.” He grabbed his wallet with his school ID in it, since he didn’t want to be locked out of the entire campus, as Tommy finished the shift, and led Tommy out, hoping he didn’t run into Sunkist or accidentally shut her out. 

“Don’t worry about Sunkist, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy said, and Gordon hummed up at him. “She’s a smart dog! She’ll be able to pass through walls.” 

Gordon nodded at this, and led them out. 

The campus was rather beautiful, and, luckily, the exit he used was half way between two buildings, and also half hidden by trees. Sunkist was free to return to visibility, and, when she did, Gordon blinked. 

To his eye, she just looked like a normal, albeit very large, Golden Retriever. 

“She safe to pet?” Gordon asked, and Tommy nodded, letting him lean down to pet behind her, very very warm, ears, her tail thumping against the ground with the familiar clack of bones against hard surfaces. 

Bubby had a habit of hitting his boney tail against everything in sight, mostly on accident. Gordon got very used to the sound of it. 

“She’s a good girl.” Tommy grinned, and Sunkist barker her agreement as Gordon stood, the ground feeling as if it were shaking under him with the force she could bark. 

“Let’s go than.” He said, and Tommy reached out, catching his hand. Gordon hummed, letting him cling on, and led him down the sidewalk. He had waited to show Tommy this place for a bit, but figured he would enjoy it. “I’ve got another place on campus to show you.” 

Tommy grinned at him, and Gordon smiled back towards him, Sunkist padding along after them with a knowing glint in her eyes. 

[silenceinthenull]

Swapped

So, I just saw someone post something about Gordon and benrey swapping bodies and it made me remember this little thing I did a while back. I had totally forgotten about it. I decided to post it here because I thought it was an interesting concept.

The first thing he noticed when he wakes up is how everything aches. He knew the ground was uncomfortable but he didn't think it would fuck him up this bad... until he realizes he can feel the ground... not the ground through the HEV suit gloves but the actual ground... he jolts up only to crumple back into himself. That was far too fast to be normal and his bones ache even more.

"Hello Gordon! It would appear you and I have swapped bodies!"

He blinks at that and looks up at... himself... he's very confused for a moment before what dr. Coomer actually said sets in... is this how dr. Coomer lives?

"I'm sorry for the pain my friend, I just took the opportunity to dispose of some of my clones while in this much more spry form! I simply forgot you would feel everything they felt."

He slowly stands up, wobbling a bit as all his movements seem more robotic and sharp now.

"It's... it's okay dr. Coomer. I'm just glad you don't always feel like this... so how did this happen?"

"We seem to have stumbled upon the black mesa mental manipulation experiments! More specifically you were hit with what has been labeled the swap gun! I was never informed how far they got into these experiments."

Gordon looks at himself. He never noticed before how absolutely ripped dr. Coomer was... it was kind of terrifying... but as the pain faded he was glad for it. He was glad dr. Coomer was so strong, if he wasn't they would have lost him long ago.

"Where are the others?"

"They feel down the shaft!"

He points to a flooded elevator shaft on the other side of the room. Gordon approaches it, only to be pushed in. His body seemed to react immediately as he dived in, swimming around the busted elevator at the bottom into the hall below and up a second elevator shaft into a new room where bubby and Tommy sat, talking about beyblades or something... or test tube babies/puppies... Gordon honestly couldn't tell.

Something pushes him out of the water and he looks over, confused. Oh. Dr. Coomer, in his body, climbs out of the shaft with ease, picking Gordon up and carrying him to the others... holy shit how did Coomer make his body so strong.

"Were you aware the power movement function on your suit was deactivated Gordon?"

"... my what?"

"Your power movement function! ..."

He starts rambling about the function Gordon didn't even know he had as if he was reading off another one of his wikipedia articles. He sits Gordon next to the others and does an awkward squat. It's very hard to sit in that suit...

"Gordon, I'm uncomfortable."

"Yeah... it helps if you use an actual chair, or just lay out..."

Dr. Coomer flops face first onto the floor.

Gordon groans, just knowing his nose is going to hurt when he gets his body back... if he gets it back anyway...

And he's suddenly laying on the floor, nose uncomfortably pressed against the concrete. He slowly stands up.

"Hello Gordon! I'm comfortable!"

"... me too dr. Coomer. Me too."

Gordon was getting tired this. One more claymore and he was going to lose his fucking mind! He peeked around the corner, looking for any more of those telltale blue lasers. Only to be very startled when he was sudden standing behind himself and he just pulled the trigger, watching as a bullet whizzed past his own head detonating a claymore just out of range of hurting any of them.

He froze for a second as everything seemed to move in slow motion, soldiers rushing towards them as the dust settles and without thinking he pulls the trigger again, barely even having to think about aiming everyone who was rushing them almost immediately drops.

He takes a deep breath and there's a quiet electrical buzzing in his ear from the rails below them as he looks at the others, coomer, bubby and himself, meaning he's in Tommy's body... everything felt... different, but in a way he couldn't describe. Things he didn't even notice before were suddenly at the forefront of his mind, like the way the now empty gun in his hands clicked quietly as he continued to pull the trigger, or the way standing on the electric rail actually felt... really nice... or how that electric buzzing from the rail wouldn't stop!

He got off the rail but it didn't help. Why was it suddenly so loud? He covered his ears but it really didn't help. He pressed the clicking gun to his head and that blocked out some of the noise but it was still there.

"It's so quiet... is it always like this for you mr. Freeman?"

He looks at Tommy.

"I... I guess? It's... its different. So loud... so constant... how can you stand... how do you think... how do you live like this?"

It was so much he just wasn't to rub his ears until they stopped working... Tommy quickly pulls him away from the rails. The pressure of the hand wrapped around his wrist feels... nice... but wrong at the same time. He doesn't understand.

Tommy reaches into Gordon's coat pocket and pulls out what looks like the launcher of a beyblade. He gently takes it and does the ripping motion and suddenly all Gordon can focus on is that sound. He quickly takes the toy and starts doing the motion over and over, blocking out the rail and making the most heavenly sound he's ever heard over and over.

Gordon is immediately pulled out of it when dr. Coomer puts a hand on his shoulder and he immediately feels very wrong. He moves out from under the hand and stares at him, confused.

"Are you alright Gordon?"

"I don't... know... everything seems like it's too much!"

Even speaking felt so wrong! The words leaving his mouth felt bad! He covers his mouth, quietly stomping his foot. That helped. That thud in his leg. That helped.

"You need to stop mr. Freeman. You're going to hurt yourself. Stomping like that isn't the best stim."

Gordon looks at him, confusion clear on his face.

"I know it feels good, but you're damaging the muscles."

Benrey walks over, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Tommy! What's up bro? Rails getting to be too much? Need some soda to chill?"

He stops in front of him with a smile, not a smirk or anything mocking like he would give Gordon and holds out a soda.

"That's a great idea! Drink that mr. Freeman! It will help!"

He's still confused, and benrey is too now, looking between Gordon and Tommy. Gordon takes the soda and opens it. Oh, nice sound, good. Oh, nice feeling! Better! The fizz touching his lips has him in heaven again and he can even relax a little. No wonder Tommy had soda for lunch.

Bubby huffs and walks ahead and Gordon feels bad for holding them up. So bad tears start welling up and he doesn't know why it hurts so much... benrey pulls out another soda and Gordon takes it without hesitation, trying to soothe the sadness that seemed to bubble up from nowhere. It... might of worked? He doesn't know because the next moment he's back in his body looking at Tommy quickly wipe up his tears.

"... is there any way we can help you manage that tommy?"

"I'm okay mr. Freeman... I know... I'm used to it."

He gives a reassuring smile and Gordon believes him, but wishes he could help more. He decides Tommy gets first dibs on soda from now on.

Gordon was in a tube... the last thing he remembered was the lights going out and then nothing... he looks around for a way out but he really was trapped. It was frustrating. He felt trapped and alone... eventually he heard voices, dr. Coomer, Tommy and... his own? Was he in bubby's body!? He didn't feel any different... soon they walked into view and he saw it... dear god...

"You just had to fuck up!"

Gordon jumps a bit and stares at himself.

"You couldn't just take your punishment like a man, could you!? Had to make me suffer in your place!"

"... you let them cut off my fucking hand!"

He remembers the voices after the lights went out, what bubby said... he remembers the pain.

"That wasn't the plan! They were just supposed to rough you up a but!"

"And!? You sold me out to the fucking military!"

And suddenly everything feels different. It feels wrong, everything hurts, he's lightheaded. He looks down before he registers anything else.

"And now I'm back in my fucking tube!"

He stares at the stump. He feels sick. He wobbles a bit but dr. Coomer catches him and brings him to the console. Gordon looks at it, seeing the release button and just pressing it.

"... you're just going to let me out?"

"... you suffered more then enough..."

And they moved on.

Gordon sighs as they headed down the elevator, clutching his aching stump. He was very Surprised to see the scientist. After everyone was introduced everything shifts again... he closes his eyes, please don't tell him he's in benrey... he slowly opens them and looks at himself... darnold? He turns back to his body who is looking around, shocked.

"... were you hit by the swap gun?"

"Yeah. Do you know anything about it?"

"Nope, just that sometimes you don't swap back... better fix up your body just in case then!"

He happily walks over to a barrel and easily picks it up, bringing it to his desk and laying it down so it's at a very specific angle before popping open a compartment on the suit Gordon didn't even know was there and pulling out... a silly straw?

And he just starts chugging... Gordon is actually impressed! He downs the entire barrel in less then a few minutes. Gordon didn't even know his body could drink that much that quickly... and as soon as he finishes Gordon is back in his body... just in time for the pain...

Gordon was getting tired of random swaps with people, so he starts experimenting. With dr. Coomer's help he has figured out that a swap is initially when he feels helpless, exhausted and/or extremely afraid. He wonders if there's a way to weaponize this? He doesn't have long to wonder though when they run into a particularly irritating soldier once again, this time he's holding a fucking dog hostage and the second Gordon sees that it happens. He looks at himself and at Coomer, who immediately understands what happened and tackles his body to the ground. Gordon grins and gets off the elevator, bringing the remote for the turrets to Tommy.

"For once that had excellent timing."

"Huh?"

Benrey is suddenly there and very confused?

"... forzen... bro... why are you here? Aren't you still pissed about that irate gamer thing?"

Forzen starts ranting from beneath Coomer and benrey pouts a bit before seeming to realize what's happening, before pretending he didn't realize and going up to Gordon and kissing him straight on the lips.

"Sorry, we aren't working out." And he walks away, leaving everyone stunned.

"I dumped you ass yesterday you angry video game nerd fanboy freak!"

Everyone is immediately looking at forzen again, giving benrey the opportunity to sneak away and melt a bit as he internally squeals in delight. He kissed feetman! And feetman doesn't know he knew! He got to kiss his crush before they have to... end his game... he's not letting that spoil his mood. He revels.

Gordon returns to his body a few moments later and forzen bolts.

Gordon was fucking tired as they approached the scientists, exhausted when they told him what he had to do, and done when the mystery briefcase man showed up again... and that's when it happened. Everything made sense, he felt powerful, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted!!!

And then he was back to normal. He looks at the man, who he now knew went by G-man Coolatta... Tommy's dad is creepy and all powerful... Gordon was just going to do what the guy wanted. He did as he was told.

Gordon was exhausted, afraid and helpless. He was honestly Surprised the swap only just happened. It felt... strange. His size felt too small, his shape felt wrong and it felt like he was wearing a full body suit... what is benrey? He stared down at his own body as the other's panicked and benrey just stared back.

"... hug?"

At first he wanted to say fuck no but... that was his pleading face... benrey genuinely just wanted a hug and became he was in Gordon's body he could read him like a book... he gently picked benrey up.

"... what do you really want?"

"... you shouldn't be here bro."

He looked scared. He looked hurt. He looked... lonely... Gordon gently placed benrey against his chest. He can't really hug benrey when he was this big, but benrey could hug him... and he did... and it was really nice... Gordon wishes he knew how to take them all back. He wishes he could soothe benrey's fears and loneliness...

He gently picks up the other members of the science team, looking for there they needed to go. He set them all down once he found it, and looked for a way to follow them, Surprised he hadn't swapped back yet.

"How do I make myself small again?"

"Huh? Just... just want it..."

He didn't know what that meant... after a moment of trying he seemed to do it, becoming roughly benrey's current size. They all move forward, together.

They don't swap back until the boss fight... it hurts when it happens. It feels like he's being ripped out of benrey's body and forced back into his own. Gordon feels sick when he realizes why... they had to kill benrey. If they didn't they would never get out...

"What happens if we don't fight? Do we really have to?"

"Yeah bro... gotta... gotta be the bad guy. Gotta be mean..."

"I don't want to do this."

"Doesn't... doesn't matter bro... I'm sorry..."

He doesn't hold back...

~~~~epilogue~~~~~

I'm gonna do the epilogue now.

It had been about a week since the party when Gordon's head started pounding.

"Uh, hey bro... been a while hasn't it..."

And Gordon doesn't even question it. He's too relieved. To happy in that moment. They didn't kill benrey! Or... they did... but he was still around!

"Yeah feetman! Hitched a ride when my body kinda fizzled. Think I could... maybe stick around? Keep you from having anymore... dick slips and shit..."

Gordon just laughs and nods to himself. He can't wait to tell the others. Benrey can't either a little bit of sweet voice flows out of Gordon's mouth, shocking him a bit.

"Oh cool! I can still do that!"

And Gordon just rolls with it. Why the fuck not you know? Makes as much sense as anything else he's been through. He opens his mouth and just lets it flow! His room quickly fills up with it.

[bubbyleh]

lightning storms

Coomer was already well-acquainted with strange sources of energy by the time he met Bubby, so hearing that they needed to be regularly struck by lightning in order to keep going? Not entirely a surprise. It had been harder back then to wait for a storm to pass through, but nowadays, all they had to do was keep an eye on the weather channel and let Bubby stick a fork in an outlet whenever they needed a quick pick-me-up.

There’s been a bit of a drought lately, though. And no rain means no lightning for Bubby, which is kind of their main source of electricity. Yeah, human advancement has made an electrical shock much more widely available, but the energy it provides is more comparable to a snack than a meal.

Coomer’s settled down on the couch, ready to enjoy his nice, locally-sourced blood bag (which means he stole it from the blood bank), when a pair of arms wrap around him. He turns to see Bubby, wearing their comforter around their shoulders, burying their face into his shoulder.

“Good evening, darling.” Coomer reaches to wrap his arm around Bubby. “I thought it’d be a good idea to let you sleep in, today. How are you feeling?”

Bubby groans, leaning into Coomer further. “Tired,” they finally manage to say.

“Did you already get a shock today?”

Bubby nods.

“Well I have good news!” Coomer reveals. “I was watching the Television earlier, and there’s supposed to be a thunderstorm in the morning, if you’re willing to stay up late.”

“Yes!” Bubby perks up slightly, before collapsing into Coomer’s lap. “Fuck, I feel so drained.”

Coomer taps at his chin. He really hates when Bubby gets this way, and it only gets worse the longer it’s been since a lightning storm. They draw their knees to their chest, sighing as Coomer moves to run a hand through their hair, even if they don’t have a lot.

“Oh! How about this?” Coomer has an idea. “We can watch one of those movie things on the Television to pass the time!”

“A moving picture, huh?” Bubby grins slightly. “That could be good.”

And so, with Bubby curled up in his lap, Coomer attempts to figure out the more advanced functions of the TV remote.

†††

By the time it starts raining, many of the others have already woken up. Since Bubby often tries to get a recharge on their own schedule, their cryptmates are usually asleep and therefore unable to view it. That is to say, given Bubby's dire need for a shock, the whole affair becomes a bit of a show for the diurnal folk.

So far, all it's been is eight of them (Gman wasn't interested) gathered outside the crypt, watching as Bubby stands ten feet away with their arms crossed and foot tapping. Luckily for them, Bubby's creator had the bright idea to make them sort of a lightning rod, so the audience isn't at risk for a strike of their own.

That doesn't mean they don't deserve one, though.

"Boo!" Benrey goads, sitting at the front of the gathered crowd. "This is boring!"

"Benrey, be polite," Gordon reminds him. "We've only been waiting for five minutes."

Benrey groans. "Too long."

"Rain's nice, though," Forzen chimes in, a look of contentment clear on his face.

"Of course the fish person likes the rain!" Darnold retorts from the back, where he and Tommy are huddled together, shivering. "We're freezing!"

Forzen rolls his eyes. "Not that cold."

Coomer feels a small tap on his arm, and he looks down to see young Joshua. As a member of the undead, Coomer is one of the few people in the crypt Joshua can physically interact with.

"Ah, hello there, Joshua," Coomer greets the ghostly child. "You're not here to get under my umbrella, are you?"

Joshua shakes his head. "Rain falls through me." He taps his fingers nervously, before asking, "How long does this usually take?"

Coomer smiles. "Well, Joshua, you've heard thunder tonight, haven't you?" The kid nods. "And it's been pretty loud, which means that the clouds above us can make lightning. So, I reckon it's going to be any second now."

As soon as Coomer speaks, the skies split open, and down shoots a bolt of lightning directly at Bubby. The strike immediately lights up the surrounding area in a blinding flash, after which it’s easy to see Bubby sprawled out on the ground.

“Oh fuck,” Gordon almost shouts. “Are they-”

“Hang on, Gordon,” Coomer places a hand on his shoulder, stopping the zombie from rushing towards Bubby.

In an instant, Bubby sits up. They raise both their arms above their head and shout, “Fuck yeah!”

Joshua and Benrey immediately start cheering. Bubby stands and, after dusting themself off, bows with the flourish of a stage performer. In fact, given many of their mannerisms, Coomer wouldn’t be surprised to discover that at least one of their body parts had been taken from a famous actor.

But something about the look in their eyes, sharp and vibrant, leaves only one thought in Coomer’s head.

Bubby just fucked up their nocturnal sleep schedule, didn’t they?

[newtafterdark]

Taste of Metal - Chapter 12: Turning up the Volume -  [AO3 LINK]

The song Gordon is singing in this chapter is "I Hate to Dance" by Mustasch! Click here to listen to it!

PS: The alternative title for this chapter: "Gordon Goes Apeshit In A Healthy Way!! YEAH!! >:D"

- - - It was always something else to hear how your voice sounded like to everyone but yourself.

Gordon had been used to it for a long time, mostly thanks to the years he recorded music with his band, but seeing his new friends react to his recorded songs made him pause a bit in thought.

When he and Newton had founded “Black Velvet Rabbits” together, both of their voices were still in the middle of their second puberty. Uneven, scratchy at times… and by far not as resilient as they wanted them to be.

That didn’t mean it stopped either of them from putting their heart and soul into every song they played. It made their first few tapes rough to listen to, but Gordon felt a huge amount of fondness for them regardless. 

All their frustration with their lives, the school system, society, their bodies, their struggles with ADHD and BPD respectively-  it all went into their music. 

It was the sound of desperately struggling youths doing anything they could in their limited power to be heard.

Gordon was well aware that some of their former bandmates thought back to BVR and rolled their eyes at their gigs and “rockstar dreams”. He himself though? He was proud. Both of himself and Newton.  Proud of having this tangible proof that they got through one of the hardest times of their lives together, doing something that they had put together with no outside help, with no overbearing parental figures forcing them to succeed. They created music because it was the one thing they had complete control over… and it had been absolutely intoxicating and freeing at the same time. 

Even now, as their old recordings played in the background, Gordon found himself gently swaying side to side to the tempo of the tune, humming softly along as he was sorting through the remaining contents of the boxes on the floor.

He looked up from his spot, smiling fondly at Bubby letting out a cry of joy when he recognized another classic rock song that BVR had recorded a cover of. 

“Your band might sound like absolute ass but at least they had taste!”, he exclaimed, drumming happily along to the beat on the floor beside Gordon.

“Yeah… our sound quality wasn’t the greatest until… 2014, I think? ”, Gordon pondered out loud. “You’ll notice the change instantly though! Around that time we also actually figured out in which direction we wanted to take our style as well. Took us a while, I know, but… good things take time!”

Speaking of good things taking time- the construction of the pocket dimension within the storage closet seemed to be going nice and steady by the looks of it. 

Every time the doors opened and Tommy stepped out to take a small break, Gordon couldn’t help trying to catch a glimpse inside, which kept earning him a loud “NO PEAKING!” from Tommy- only for him to hear it echoed by Dr Coomer, Benrey and Joshua seconds later.

When eventually each member of the Science Team joined Tommy to help out with the closet, Gordon let himself be focused on his sorting task, Sunkist laying beside him as his only company for the time being. 

“Guess it’s only the two of us for a bit, huh?”, he said, giving the huge dog a few loving pats on her side. Sunkist let out an affirmative woof and rested her head on Gordon’s thigh, earning a smile from Gordon. 

He resumed swaying along to a new tune starting to play on the stereo, now allowing himself to add a few more subtle movements as well. 

He found himself nodding along to the rhythm, his long wavy hair swaying in a way it hadn’t in a very long time.

As the side of his right foot began to gently tap against the floor as well, Sunkist got up and pushed her head against Gordon’s shoulder. 

Gordon stared at her for a moment, unsure of what she expected him to do, but as the golden retriever started to gently dig into the carpet surprisingly in tune with the beat, something clicked in Gordon’s head.

He scrambled to get up on his feet, laughed as Sunkist let out a happy bark and started running excited circles around him when he started tapping his foot again.

It had been a while… but no one was in the room right now to judge him. And Sunkist, being the perfect and most supportive dog, would never make him feel guilty about any of this.

He looked down to his tapping feet, his hand closed into a fist as he assembles the old courage and opened his mouth-

“♫ I ain't a boring barfly…so please don't get me wrong, oh- Come on! Yeah, come on! I've been saying this for. Far. Too. LooooOOOONG!! ♪”

Gordon felt himself smile as he raised his voice, mirroring the energy of the younger version of it coming from the speakers.

As he moved his hips and head in rhythm to the beat of the tune, he leaned down towards Sunkist and decided at the moment that, hey, she might be the best audience he had in years - might as well sing for the best girl!

She positively bounced excitedly around Gordon’s feet as the man himself started to jump along with her and the music-

“♪ I haaaate to disappoint you! I'm not the guy you need- so, feel freeee! You can leeeeave! ‘Cause I'll nEVER SWING LIKE A MONKEY FROM. THE. TREEEEES! ♫”

Sunkist let out a loud approving bark at the sound of Gordon letting himself be loud, but this time fully because of joy, nothing like the pained and frustrated yelling he had done all throughout the simulation.

This was how Gordon was supposed to sound like. Loud, happy and confident-

“♪ It’s of great importance! This is what yOU. ALL. SHOULD. DOOOOO- ♫”

The possibility of complaining neighbours be damned, Gordon rushed over to this stereo and turned the volume significantly up, still mindful of Sunkist being in the room with him. No matter how perfect Tommy made her, Gordon really didn’t want to accidentally hurt her hearing.

He returned to moving around the living room, his steps becoming confident stomping as he basically had Sunkist follow his path between the furniture at this point. He ran his hand through his hair, letting the majority of it fall over the right side of his head, showing off the remainder of his undercut on the left in the process-

“♫ BANG YOUR HEAD CLEAN OFF, JUST DO IT!! STOMP YOUR FEET AND CLAP YOUR H-HANDS-!! ♪”

He roughly brushed away a barely formed tear from his right eye, opting to stomp his feet in place of clapping his hands to the beat. He wouldn’t let his pain and trauma cut this moment short. Singing had been his outlet for all his frustrations before, why shouldn’t he try and find out if it would still hold up with the new struggles he was facing?

“♫ I AM A HEAVY METAL GROOVER! - BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! ♪”

Sunkist affectionately pressed herself against Gordon’s side, sensing the man’s wild mix of emotions running through his head. Gordon opted to give Sunkist’s back a pat to assure her that he was doing okay. That he needed to do this. To let this all out. 

He took a deep breath-

“♪ So take me away from the dance floor- Nemo saltat sobrius - Well, that's right... fucking right. I've been telling you for far too looooooOOOONG! ♫”

He closed his eyes, his focus now only on putting as much emphasis on the words as he could. As he used to. As Gordon Martini Freeman of the “Black Velvet Rabbits” had been known for.

“♫ I haaaate to disappoint you! But I'm not the guy you need- You can leeeeave, ‘cause to meee- DISCO. DIED. IN. 1983!! ♪”

He spread his arms, his head slightly falling back and his hair following suit… and he could almost feel the comforting heat of spotlights on his skin once more-

“♪ It’s of great importance! This is what yOU. ALL. SHOULD. DOOOOO!- ♫”

He bent back forward, letting himself go off into a poorly executed guitar solo as he headbanged to the beat, his hair flying back and forth, side to side-

“♫ BANG YOUR HEAD CLEAN OFF, JUST DO IT!! STOMP YOUR FEET AND CLAP YOUR HANDS-!!  I AM A HEAVY METAL GROOVER! - BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! BANG YOUR HEAD ‘CAUSE I HATE TO DANCE! - BANG THE HEAD THAT DOESN’T BANG!!~ ♪”

Gordon stood there for a moment, out of breath, hair wild and messy, chest heaving and eyes blown wide. He was only pulled back into reality from his post-rockout brain by Sunkist jumping up on him and licking his face-

“Hahaha!! Yeah, this was fun, wasn’t it, big girl?! Thanks for the encouragement, Sunkist. I mean it. I… really needed that.”

He hugged her close before gently letting her get back on all fours, smiling as she let out a soft bark and pressed herself against his side once more, her tail wagging happily-

“Well, I’ll be damned. Sounds like you don’t sound like ass anymore after all!”

Gordon spun around, instantly locking eyes with Bubby, who was leaning against the frame of the closet, arms crossed and a smug smile on his face.

“H-How much of that did you-”

“I heard enough to know that my eardrums can stand the sound of it.”, Bubby answered, “You don’t sound half bad. Obviously out of practice, but… not awful.”

Gordon scratched the back of his neck, trying to process the rare compliment coming from the older scientist.

“Uh… thanks? A-ANYWAY- how’s the pocket dimension going?”, he quickly added to move the topic elsewhere.

Bubby rolled his eyes at Gordon's obvious deflection.

“It could go way faster in my opinion! But the hallway and the basic rooms are stable now. I won’t invite you in without the others agreeing on it too, but… it’s nice. Having your own space to do with as you please, as barren as it might be at the moment-”

In the time Bubby had spoken, Gordon had walked over to him, now resting his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“Hey, I might not have the biggest savings, but that won’t stop me from helping you guys find stuff for your space, okay? I know a few places we could visit sometime this week! But… first I do want to go shopping with you all to let you pick stuff for your wardrobes!”

Bubby stared up to him, a slightly startled look on his face.

“You’ll… let us… pick?”

Gordon smiled softly, hoping it looked reassuring.

“Of course! As long as you all don’t get me into the reds with your purchases, you are free to pick as many things as you want, now that you all have your own space. Honestly… go wild! Did- Do you think I’d limit you? Bubby, you guys are my friends! If anything, I wholeheartedly encourage you to get lost for hours in the nearby thrift stores and find your own style- HURGH!-

Gordon found himself pulled into a tight hug- which only lasted for two seconds.

As Bubby pulled back, he looked away, brows furrowed.

“Thanks. You- you don’t get how much this means to- ...thank you, Gordon.”

“You’re welcome. Uh… should I go get us some food for when you guys are done or-”

“GOD! YES! Fuck off before this moment gets even more awkward!”, Bubby exclaimed with frustration, a hint of a smile tugging on the edge of his mouth.

Gordon threw up his hand in mock defence, not even trying to hide his grin.

[holdyourbreathfornow]

Like Father, Like Son

(Oh no, instead of working on the many other things I’m supposed to, I instead wrote this ‘missing scene’ tribute fic to your fic “A Match Lit in the Lantern of My Heart”. Supposed to be set right after Darnold gets Gordon in the car after he burns up the warehouse. I really REALLY want to write the second part but it’s very difficult for me to write more than one chapter of things, regardless of length or desire, so no promises)  (cw for burns,flashbacks of past trauma,slight body horror) 

(feel free to add a readmore. I can’t add one on the submission page)

Bubby was pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor as he and the others waited anxiously for any news from Darnold or Gordon.

  He chewed on his thumb nail anxiously; a bad habit he’d picked up a long time ago and never been able to kick. He often felt the need to gnaw on things with his sharp teeth, especially when he was nervous, and, more often than not, it was his nails and cuticles that took the brunt of the damage. 

  He just hated this damned waiting!  Not knowing what was happening, not knowing what to do. It was maddening!

  None of the others seemed to be handling it any better. 

  Harold was staring, silently and unblinking, into the middle distance, arms folded and hands gripping his upper arms so hard Bubby worried for the integrity of the metal. 

  Tommy was shaking, stroking Sunkist over and over to try to calm himself out of a full panic attack while his father stood next to the two of them, face and mannerisms as unreadable as always, but knowing him as well as Bubby had come to, he could still tell the man was worried. 

  Benrey was sitting in the corner of the room, clutching his head and rocking back and forth slightly. His form twitched and shuddered.

  Benrey had taken the news of Montobar’s return and subsequent threatening of Gordon arguably the worst of any of them. At first he’d seized up, freezing like a deer in headlights, then he’d seemed to completely lose control of his physical form, growing, shifting, and changing in accordance with his rage and despair. Teeth and claws jutted out at all angles, mouths and limbs sprouting and flailing as ear-splitting, shrieking notes of sweet voice filled the air with a slew of blinding lights. 

  It seemed as though his emotions were physically warring with each other over the battlefield of his body, parts trying to draw into themselves in fear and form protective plating, while other parts lashed out, slashing at the air with claws and teeth like razors, while still more moaned and sobbed tears the same ever shifting colors that poured from his many mouths. 

  He’d immediately tried to run off to find Gordon (hell they’d all wanted to) but Tommy managed to console him enough to get him to understand the infuriating truth of the situation at hand, which was that we simply didn’t know exactly Montobar had up his sleeve. 

  Darnold had told them Montobar had been vague in his threats besides an insinuation of something to do with controlling Tommy’s father. While the G-Man had assured them there was no danger of that specifically, they still didn’t know what else Montobar could have at his disposal. 

  No one knew the extent of exactly what had been done to Gordon during his time at Black Mesa, not even Gordon himself. No one but Montobar. If there was something else he knew, something else he had that he could use against Gordon and they showed up and forced him to show his hand…

  Bubby shuddered. 

  No, they had to find out exactly what his demands were. Exactly what he had to back up his threats. Then they could act. Then they could find a way to subvert whatever twisted ace he might have up his sleeve.

  And Bubby could finally deep fry the fucker. 

  For everything Montobar had done to Bubby’s son, to his whole family, he’d make sure the piece of shit’s life ended roasting alive. He’d regret ever living through the fall of Black Mesa, Bubby would make sure of that. 

  Bubby nearly jumped out of his skin when Coomer’s phone ringtone went off. 

  In an instant, the whole room was on their feet and crowded around Coomer, who already had picked up, phone held to his ear.

  “What’s happening?” he asked, not bothering with any kind of greeting. “Is Gordon–” 

  Bubby could hear frantic speaking from the other side of the call, cutting Coomer off, but it was too quiet to hear what was being said.

  “Fire?!” Coomer exclaimed. “But what–” 

  “What- what’s he saying?” Tommy cried, “Is Gordon al-alri- is-is he ok?”

  “Oh my God, man, just put the fucking thing on speaker!” Bubby exclaimed, grabbing the phone from his husband’s hand and pressing the speaker symbol and Darnold’s voice cut in, mid sentence.

  “–and the windows just blew out and when I went in he was just–it was an inferno!” 

  “Gordon? Gordon good, yeah? He’s…he’s not–” Benrey asked, practically crawling over Tommy to get closer to the phone.

  “He’s alive,” Darnold said, and the group let out a collective breath of relief. “But he’s all burned up. He’s…it’s bad. It’s real bad.”

  Benrey’s form started to shift again, but this time with a singular, focused emotion at its core: rage. 

  “Montobar rigged the place to ex-ex- to blow up?” Tommy said with a shudder. “After-after all that? It was just to hurt-to hurt Gordon?”

  “He couldn’t let us live,” Benrey said, mouth stretching and jaw filling with long, sharp fangs. “Can’t have his toys, so he’ll just break ‘em.”

  “No, no, you don’t understand!” Darnold said. “Montobar didn’t start the fire, Gordon did! He was the fire!”

  Bubby nearly dropped the phone, his whole body going numb. 

  It couldn’t be.

  “Darnold, what do you mean he was the fire?” Bubby demanded, voice shaking.

  “I don’t know what it was,” Darnold said. “I just went in and Gordon was at the center of this huge plume of fire and his eyes were glowing! The more he panicked it seemed like the flames just got bigger and bigger! When I got him to calm down, they went out but he’s still really really hot. Like, melting the seat of my car hot.”

  Bubby’s heart pounded in his ears as memories overtook him, unbidden.

  The exhilaration of freedom, but also the fear,the pain. Perfluorocarbon being painfully ejected from his lungs. He knew what it felt like to drown before what it felt like to breathe. 

Everything so loud, so bright. His muscles weak. Scientists everywhere, poking and prodding him. Too much. Too much. Hands grabbing at him, voices yelling, demanding. 

Anger feeding that ever present spark in his chest until it welled up, pushing out through his skin. Too hot. Too hot! Panicking but the panic just fed the heat, the flame. Then just screaming. 

Screaming,screaming, screaming.

  The phone slipped from Bubby’s fingers.

  Luckily Harold grabbed it with an extendo-arm before it could hit the ground.

  “Where are you now?” Harold said, voice low and firm, the way it got when he was pushing all emotion aside to just deal with the situation at hand.

  “We’re at least forty five minutes away, still,” Darnold said. “I’m going,uh,pretty far over the speed limit already but there’s only so fast I can go.”

  G-Man straighted up.

  “I will…warp to you to, retrieve him,” he said, but Coomer caught his arm before he could make any motion to do so.

  “No,” Coomer said. “We need you here. There’s some things we’re going to need…”

  Bubby didn’t hear the end of Coomer’s sentence, nor whatever was said in return, already staggering out of the room and down the basement stairs, hand clamped over his mouth, as if he was going to be sick. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t.

  Bracing himself against the cold cement walls of the basement, Bubby struggled to catch his breath. Muscle memory began to draw his flames to his skin, so used to being his outlet for such extreme emotion. He retched, forcing his fire deep down in his chest as his stomach seemed to tie itself in knots. 

  He squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see behind his eyelids were images of flesh burning, phantom screams echoing in his ears. Sometimes his, sometimes Gordon’s.

  A hand touched Bubby’s shoulder and he pulled away sharply, teeth bared and hands raised to defend himself.

  His hands fell, along with his face, as he saw Coomer before him, arms up in a placating gesture. 

  “Fuck,” Bubby huffed, heart still racing. “Sorry, Harold, I just…“

  He covered his eyes with a hand, pushing his glasses up his face, as if it could hold back the tears threatening to fall.

  When Harold placed a hand on Bubby’s arm this time, he didn’t pull away.

  “He’s got burns over most of his body,” Coomer said. “He won’t be able to heal that on his own, especially not if he can’t cool down. You know what he needs.”

  Bubby moved his hand from his eyes to over his mouth, eyes still firmly shut. He knew what Coomer was going to say. Gordon needed to be put back into the cellular growth fluid he and Bubby had been grown in, the same way Bubby did when he needed to regrow or repair a large amount of tissue. Bubby knew he knew Coomer was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear, especially since he knew exactly what that would mean they needed.

  “His old tube is far too small now,” Coomer continued. “He’ll…need one of yours. I already sent G to get the one we kept in storage, but I’ll need your help getting it running again.”

  Bubby squeezed his eyes shut impossibly harder. He wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t break down now. Not when his family needed him. But the idea of facing his tube now, with the memory of being dragged by military men back to the one in Black Mesa and shoved inside, slamming his fists against the unforgiving glass until his knuckles were bruised and throbbing, still so fresh in his mind…it was too much.

  “I…I can’t…” he moaned, voice cracking. 

  Bubby felt Coomer’s hands grab him by the shoulders and he at last opened his eyes.

  “I know. I know how hard it is for you,” Coomer said,his eyes pained, but determined. “And I would never ask you to, if I didn’t have to. But your son needs you.”

  His face softened, as did his voice.

  “I need you, too,” he said. “I can’t do this alone.”

  Bubby swallowed hard and set his jaw. He nodded.

  Coomer let go of Bubby’s shoulders and took Bubby’s hands in his own. 

  Bubby pressed his forehead to Coomer’s and for a quiet moment, they just breathed.  Their moment was quickly ended when a flash of green lit up the basement and, out of thin air, appeared the G-Man, along with the semi-disassembled tube that Coomer and Bubby kept in a storage unit in case of emergencies, along with a few barrels of the cellular growth fluid starter, which would need to be properly prepared before it could be put in the tube itself.

  “I believe, this issss…all you, require.” G said.

  Bubby adjusted his glasses and pulled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

  “Alright, we don’t have long and we need to get this fully running before Darnold gets back here with Gordon,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”

[tigerdrop]

king u gonna elaborate on virgin benrey

 listen i have kiryu “is 100% a virgin at the ripe old age of 37, and this is appealing to me instead of fucking hilarious″ kazuma disease and it has followed me here. also this kind of branches into a completely different kink at the end b/c i am diseased

so you know how i write "obviously fucks good and hard all the time" benrey. well........you know.......like..........what if......................he didnt. what if he was. what if he had never fucked before in his life and his incessant flirting finally works and hes like "i did not expect to get this far."

envision, if u will, the delightful awkwardness of virgin benrey + "has never had sex with a dude before" gordon

ive definitely brought up the possibilities of gordon going all science-brain on null benrey before but i think it works just as well on virgin benrey too. its a learning experience for both of them and if theres one thing gordons good at, its research. and gordon probably gets way too up in his own head about making sure he does this shit right and spends a lot of sleepless nights googling "how to have sex with dudes" and, you know, researching, 

if benreys not the one fucking babying him thru his first gay experiences he is probably going to bungle it so fucking badly and i think it would be really funny 

alternatively please consider gordon being so fucking neurotic about benrey never having done this shit before that he avoids the subject as hard as possible, thinking that hes gonna dick it up hardcore, but the whole time benreys just thinking "bro i havent had my dick touched in [however long hes been alive]. come on". the tension

furiously making out with him behind a fucking crate in black mesa and then realizing this is Going Places and gordons voice breaks as he says, way too loud, "I GOTTA UHHH GO RELOAD MY SMG. RIGHT NOW"

you think gordon is touch starved ? no. Hell with this 

Im just tsying theres no evidence hes been touched at all by another human being in his life before this. if hes video game in real he benrey noclip out of being touched 

what if he like, chooses not to noclip/not feel....ON that time gordon catches him. just cuz hes curious, a gay impulse. or maybe hes so surprised (and gay) he forgets to avoid it

and oh, to be in gordon freeman's gentle grasp. makes him into an unholy annoyance of awkward gayness for the rest of the series

YEAS.......also he has definitely thought hard about sucking gordons dick but doesnt actually have any idea how he would go about it. hes just heard its cool

giddy thinking about the scenario where its actually benrey whos terrible at sucking dick b/c hes never done it before and gordon who actually does suck dick like a champ

i know that this is literally the plot of the very first serious nsfw fic in this fandom but still. virgin beney. benrey getting sucked off for the first time in his entire life and shaking like a fucking leaf......

Power trip of Gordon realizing this guy whose been hitting on him the whole time has no idea what to actually do 

Gordon Freeman Gives Benrey A Prostate Exam

its a joke but its not a joke. virgin benrey being vaguely aware that being fucked by gordon freeman would be cool, in theory, but not fully conceptualizing of how you actually get a dick in your ass until gordons like "what?? no, dude, you cant just stick it in there" and gives him a demonstration and thats how benrey discovers he has a prostate 

benrey like "idgi man this just feels weird. when do we get to theohhh my god what. what that" and gordons like "what, u mean this?" (curls his fingers again) mean smirk hours

i want him to make a squeaky little noise when gordon says that and curls his fingers again, and gordon's like "ha- knew he'd like it" and keeps kneading him a while; but oops, suddenly benrey's coming with an even squeakier noise 

gordon's so surprised he just keeps going, hes like, not comprehending until benys whining at him to stop

a thought: benreys not good at "being human" and probably doesnt actually know whats supposed to happen when u nut so every time hes been jackin it he just does it until it starts to be Just A Little Too Much and then hes like "mission accomplished" and stops. imagine his fucking surprise when  gordons jerking him off and he doesnt stop and hes like "wh ha hu what the fuck i already got off bro" and gordon just stares at him and the distinctive lack of cum on his hand and s like ".......did you?  you sure about that one." 

tl;dr benrey squirming and babbling and digging his fingers into gordons back as he begs him to keep going, he doesnt know whats gonna happen and hes feeling totally overwhelmed b/c gordons pushing him further than hes ever been pushed and he keeps inadvertently trying to wriggle away b/c its So Much but gordon, maybe, pins down his hips so he can get benrey off For Real....... 

even better if its when gordons sucking him off for the first time so he can wrap his arms and hands around benreys thighs to keep them spread wide open and firmly in place 

knees shaking and thighs jumping constantly 

and benrey has no idea when its supposed to be over so he cant even warn gordon properly. he just keeps getting louder and louder....... 

maybe even.......completely hunched over gordon......pushing him down on his dick with his hands in his hair....... 

alternating between babbling "stop" and "dont stop" b/c hes stupid 

eventually gordon gets so sick of benrey not being able to decide whether he wants to shove gordon onto his dick or yank him off that he just pulls off and says "look, man, do you trust me?" b/c he would really like to just get benrey to stop edging himself here 

UNINTENTIONAL OVERSTIMULATION.......THE TEARS........HHHHHHH

and he eventually gets benrey to nod furiously at him that he trusts him and gordons just like, okay, im not gonna stop then. im gonna keep going. and.......he does 

eyes glazed, hair sticking to him with sweat, hips all twitchy, dick all red, face also all red 

sucking benrey dry until hes over sensitive....... 

He started off spasming then he’s rocking into Gordon’s face by the time he’s wailing his name. Panting and gasping like he’s fucking DROWNING 

gordon meanwhile almost nuts in his pants from the fuckin show that benreys puttin on for him and hes not even trying. hes just Like This. gordons got jerkoff material for the next month just thinking about the way benrey wails his name and clutches his hair tight 

benreys like (slurred) 'u gonna jack off or sumn.......was it not hot'. gordon fighting with every cell of his body not to scream "WAS IT NOT HOT?"

trying to decide what would be hotter: gordon jacking off while hes on his knees with his head resting on benreys thigh or jerking off on benreys stomach and.....r.......rubbing it in

benrey watching gordon cum and feeling a whole new context for it cause now he knows how good it feels and gets turned on again faster-

thinking.......about.......th. next time. now that benreys figured it out. he gives it a try on his own time and hes so surprised that it works that he goes up to gordon like "yo. check this out. i figured out how to jack it" and gordon has the most unimpressed look on his face imaginable 

"proud of you, buddy. am i good to go back to watching storage wars, or" "you wanna uhhh.....wanna see it maybe?" and that changes his entire tune

imagining benrey being so fucking bad at it still that he keeps doing the start-stop shit b/c its so intense and hes not used to it and the thing that actually gets him to finish is gordon, pants down to his knees and fisting his own dick like he might die tomorrow, leaning forward and telling him that hes got this, benreys gonna come for him, right? come for gordon? 

gordon fucking telling him "dont stop" WRT jerking himself off and benrey just listening to him and pushing himself is ruining my fuckin mind 

its a really good thought......i love how it plays into non-human benrey having to figure out human stuff........makes me crayz

probably keeps being sensitive for a long while too........ (mumbling very very quietly) and if hes so sensitive from never being touched before......maybe hes kind of........uhhh..................ticklish

new layers to the whole "oh my god its too much stop it" + "i actually dont want you to stop touching" thing .. . . .. . . . + gordon powertripping when he realizes whats going on with him and why he keeps jerking away and trying not to laugh when gordon touches him like on his stomach or his sides

benrey accidentally jerks too hard and knees gordon in the dick from how ticklish he feels just from like, hands on his sides or something

i was actually thinking about......like.......gordon laying on the ground and suffering (because why wouldnt i be thinking about gordon suffering) and deciding that enough is enough and offering to.......desensitize benrey. you know. for his own health

you know. uhhh. tying up his arms and legs, perhaps, and. you know. "do not noclip through these. i swear to god, benrey, if you kick me in the dick again" 

i'm think about benrey begging gordon to stop, so he does, to check if this is a Forreal stop or a "hahah nooo~" stop, and benrey asks him through gasps to keep fucking tickling him (except he just says smth to the effect of ."gh.. ....keep doing it dude wuhdah hell...") and gordon gets an evil fucking grin and just feels on top of the world "yeah?? think you can handle it, huh???" and just destroys him. benrey thinks about gordon's horny manic face for weeks 

neither of them had a thing for this before this point but the combination of feeling like hes being tickled and gordons hands on him for the first time making him mad horny gives benrey a brand new fucking fetish. gordons manic fucking face im so glad we are on the same wavelength about that

i truly hate my own posts. incurable. diseased

[froggycatvest]

Title: There’s a cafeteria? Words: 1000 Ships: None, but will have cute moments between Benrey/Tommy, and Benrey having a little feelings for Gordon.  Warnings: None Characters: Benrey, Gordon, Dr. Coomer, Tommy, Bubby Part 1 of ? Part 2 HERE

This is just whatever interaction popped into my head as I try to write from Benrey’s pov as they travel along in Black Mesa. Set some time after Gordon gets his gun hand. Just supposed to be fun and funny stuff.

--

Benry was already bored with the empty corridors they were travelling down and had sped up his pace to run towards the room that was up ahead, but Gordon called him back. 

“Don’t,” he scolded, “run off on your own.”

Benry paused, automatically looking at him with a blank expression. The man was always ordering everyone around, but there really wasn’t much else to do, so Benry would mostly listen. He double backed to get in close and to stare directly at him, and Gordon straightened up, taking half a step away as he usually did when confronted.

“Please,” he continued on, imploringly. “Just this once, can you stay with the group? Whenever you disappear, bad things tend to happen when you reappear.”

He never disappeared. He just got lost. “Well I think that’s your fault.”

Gordon blinked. “My fault?” A slow grin slid onto his face. “Oh, are we playing this game again?” He snorted out sarcastically. “Yeah, ok, tell me how is that my fault?”

He was pretty sure everything was Gordon Freeman’s fault since the beginning, but the man would deny it, so Benry shrugged and said simply, “You leave me behind.”

Gordon pressed forward. “Because you disappear. I never know where you go.”

Benry didn’t back down. “You’re the one running off ahead. You tell me not to do that but that’s all you do.”

And it was true. Benry would look away for one moment, get distracted by one thing, and suddenly the room would be empty, his calls of Hello? going unanswered. Not that it was hard to find them. He would just follow the trail of dead bodies and broken boxes and empty soda cans.

At least it looked like Gordon conceded the point, a sheepish look to his face. “I, ah, well, maybe?” But his tone changed back to his leaderly ways. “Look, you need to keep up. I can’t babysit all of you. You’re a grown man and you need to stop wandering off in the middle of danger.” He immediately put up a hand to keep Benry from saying anything, which meant Gordon Freeman was going to talk and not stop. 

“Not that I’m concerned about you. Danger has no meaning to you, does it? You get crushed, you’re fine. I shoot you in the face, you don’t flinch. Which is so badass, but--” Benry had spaced out during the lecture, but blinked to attention at being told he was kinda cool. “--then you always--”

“Yeah you’re welcome.”

Gordon tripped over his words at the interruption. “F-for what?”

“You’re welcome.”

“...Listen.” Gordon looked like he was going to take hold of Benry’s shoulder, which he usually did when he needed to get someone to pay attention. But he stopped and pulled back. “Just...be good. Stay.” 

How many times did he have to tell Gordon Freeman that this was his fault?

Benry was about to repeat the facts, but Dr. Coomer ran up to them.

“Gordon, you can’t keep leaving a member of our team behind.” 

Gordon’s eyes widened at the older man. “Don’t defend him,” he whined, which made Benry bite his lip and turn away to hide it. When the others said or did things that made Gordon react in a variety of funny ways, Benry wanted to add to it and bug him more. 

“I’m a team member,” Benry said to the wall, his tone light. “You have to treat me well.”

“Uh huh.” Gordon did not sound amused as he came up to Benry’s side. “Did you treat me well after you betrayed me?”

Benry glanced at the man’s face, at his raised eyebrow, then at the gun attached to the other’s arm. It had been exciting. There had been action and fighting. But then after that, after they took him away, he didn’t know where to go or what to do. It sucked.

“Yeah sorry.”

“Y--wait. You’re...you’re apologizing?”

He looked and sounded all kinds of things--shocked, confused, in disbelief. Gordon Freeman had so many emotions, and they were all fun to interact with. Except maybe the heartfelt ones--the genuine compliments. Benry didn’t know how to act around those. 

He didn’t answer and sidestepped him. He was just used to saying sorry, because he was polite and professional. It was automatically tacked on to his sentences sometimes. He began to head to the room they hadn’t gone in yet.

“Hey! Hey.” Gordon rushed after him, and when Benry saw that he was smiling brightly, his feet stopped him in bewilderment. An arm was slung over his shoulder, Benry tensing and warming slightly at the touch and then at the sheer absolute delight in the other’s words.

“Too late. You said it. No take backs.” Gordon turned to everyone else, pulling Benry along with the movement and jostling him. “You all heard that, right? Benrey’s real sorry that he was a big bad backstabbing bastard to me.”

Benry frowned. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but was appreciative when Tommy approached them and said kindly,

“It’s okay, Benrey. We forgive you.”

Gordon let go of Benry to correct the situation gently. “No. No, Tommy. We are not forgiving him.”

“Tommy thank you.”

Annoyed noises came from Gordon’s throat as he looked between them, his mouth opening to say something, but Bubby strode past them.

“Let’s go already,” he said, sounding just as annoyed.

“Hey, you betrayed me, too. Don’t forget.”

“Nonsense. That’s in the past. You said so yourself.”

“That’s.” Benry wanted to say something, but he had to stop or else he’d start laughing under his breath. But Gordon always seemed to hear him no matter how quiet he was and was already questioning him.

“What? What did you say?”

Benry’s mouth moved on its own. “Your hand’s in the past.” 

Gordon’s eyes widened slowly in realization. “You think you’re funny? A real funny guy?” He gave him a strained smile, beckoning him with the gun attached to his arm. “Come here.”

Benry ran.

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, HLVRAI - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Freeman, Tommy Coolatta, Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Bubby (Half-Life), Benrey (Half-Life) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Basically an au exploring what if HLVRAI followed Half Life a little more closely, Au where there isn't a betrayal in that one spot, Mainly was wondering what would happen to the others if they hadn't been in on it., Some things change some don't, Oh also this is sort of intended as a not a game au

Summary: Anyone who knows original Half-Life knows that the ambush happens in that spot no matter what. What would have happened if the ambush was as rough for the others?

The backtracking to the lobby didn’t take long. Tommy had already organized things into piles, and after figuring out bags and/or pockets, they distributed some to everyone. Coomer insisted on also carrying some of the load, and after finding a way to extend the straps, he had a duffel bag strapped across his chest.

After much internal (and external) debate, Gordon finally picked up a pistol and some ammo to go with it. Of course with the caveat that he would use it properly and not throw it on impulse. He still mostly carried stuff for the others, though.

The automatic sensors for the other set of doors in the hall were still busted, so they had to trek back through the room where they had found the real Coomer. Now that he knew it was there, the blood splattered and smeared everywhere only enhanced the creepy feeling of the room.

Gordon couldn’t contain a small shudder when passing by the dead clone.

In an attempt to distract himself from darker thoughts, he glanced at the opened cage doors that were built into the wall and asked, “What did Black Mesa keep in here? Did you see how it got out, Coomer?”

Cheerfully, Coomer answered, “More aliens like the ones we saw earlier! Headcrabs, based on the screeches I could hear. The soldiers couldn’t hit them through the bars, so they opened the cages before opening fire again!”

Before Gordon could even think to respond to that information, Bubby interjected, “It was more ethical, anyway.”

“At least the animals got to run out of their cages before they died.”

On one hand, he could see where they were coming from, but on the other, he had to ask, “Can we even call those animals? They’re… I dunno they’re not exactly-”

“Can I call you an animal, Gordon?” Coomer asked.

Utterly derailed from trying to remember Linnaean Taxonomy and how it probably wasn’t intended for Xenobiology, Gordon couldn’t help but stammer out, “N-no? I’m a hum-”

Without bothering to hear his response, Coomer bolted for the exit. “Let’s get moving!”

At least the interruption kept him from finishing that statement and earning a taxonomy lecture straight from Wikipedia. The others quickly followed behind. Or at least as quickly as they could with Bubby limping, and Tommy constantly looking back towards Gordon.

Not wanting to hold the others up and wanting to get out of the room, Gordon tried to jog to the exit. His pounding head reminded him why that was a bad idea, so he settled for a brisk walk.

Thankfully, Coomer hadn’t gone too far in his brief sprint down the hallway, and he was standing still as he waited for the rest of them around the corner. When they got close to him, he smiled and said, “Looks like someone else already handled all the explosives in this hallway!”

That was an understatement. The hallway in front of them was covered in burn marks and blood of human and alien origin. The carnage in the hallway and the room branching off from it contained the bodies of soldiers and some bigger aliens that they hadn’t seen before.

It looked as if most of them had been torn apart with claws, not exploded by a mine.

Before they could get a better look at the strange aliens or dig through the soldier’s pockets for ammo, heavy, clunking footsteps echoed down the hall. Gordon edged himself in front of Coomer, and Tommy and Bubby had their guns ready.

“I said I already took care of it! Over.”

There was a reply, but the static made it impossible to discern what was said.

“The damn thing is trapped in a room it can’t get out of. It took out the entire squadron on its own. I’m not facing it again without back up…. Over.” Another reply. “What do you mean you already sent back up, there’s-” The soldier rounded the corner and was immediately shot twice. The radio clattered onto the ground as he died, and it fell to pieces.

“… Was the crotch shot really necessary?” Gordon raised his eyebrows at Bubby.

“Of course, Gordon. They’re all assholes, and Tommy was going to kill him anyway.”

He shouldn’t have expected anything less.

As they proceeded past the former mine trap, Gordon nearly tripped on… Something. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but it kind of reminded him of an antler. This was much pointier and bigger than most deer’s, and there was the fact that it was leaking the same ink black blood that they had seen smeared everywhere. All he could guess that it was something from the alien creature.

They couldn’t do anything with it, even if Coomer wanted to keep it as a trophy, so they left it there.

The rest of the hallway was still littered with the remains from the long, drawn out fight, even when they made it to an area that branched in several directions.

“Oh there’s a scientist!” Coomer declared. Everyone followed his gaze through a glass automatic door.

He was right, there were a few scientists hiding in the far room.

But there was also a surgery machine on the fritz blocking the entire path. And even disregarding that, the door refused to open. Or break, when Coomer tried kicking it in.

“Anyone have any ideas for getting over there?” Gordon asked helplessly.

Bubby crossed his arms as he looked around before saying, “I’ve got an idea, but we have to keep following this horror movie blood trail to get to it.”

“You know this place pretty well, right? We can give it a shot.”

“Of course he does! When you spend most of your life in an area, you get to learn the ins and outs. Especially the places you’re not supposed to notice!” Coomer gave Bubby a pointed look and grin.

The jab brought a brief smile to Bubby’s face, but it disappeared quickly as he readjusted his grip on his gun and waved towards the hall they needed to go down.

It was easy to see that the far end was dark in comparison to where they currently stood.

As they got closer, Gordon could see that the overhead lights had been taken out by something. Given that there was a blackened blood smear on the ceiling, he was willing to guess it was the same alien they had been all but following. If given the opportunity to, he would absolutely deviate from this morbid path, but between all the locked doors and loop backs, there weren’t many other directions to go.

And they had to find a way to the scientists on the other side of the surgical machine room.

With flashlights readied, they ventured into the dim hallway. After a turn, it didn’t take long before the ambient light from the previous hall couldn’t reach them, and darkness surrounded them.

Tommy was again taking point, and it took Gordon a minute to realize that he still only had the large gun out. No flashlight in sight.

Gordon was about to comment on it when something caught his eye further ahead. He squinted as he tried to make out what it could be, but it disappeared each time his or Bubby’s light shone on it. When the lights were pointed in that direction, he could see another intersection, but when they weren’t, it was like he could see really faint colors?

Not wanting to walk headfirst into trouble, he stopped and whispered, “Hey guys, uh, did you see that?” Without the hum of electricity, his voice carried much further than he thought it would, and he cringed at how loud it was.

However, his companions didn’t quite have the same idea, and they all replied in their normal speaking voices. At least they decided to stop and face him while responding.

“I can see the end of a hallway, and not much else, Gordon!”

“Are you trying to scare us? This isn’t the time for that.” Despite the snarky response, Bubby wasn’t doing the best job at hiding a tremor in his voice.

“What are you- What do you think you saw, Mr. Freeman?”

“I dunno, it’s like there’s a weird glow down that way? Can’t really see it when our lights are on it, though.” He pointed towards the dim colors that faintly lit up one path in the intersection while keeping the HEV suit flashlight covered.

Bubby followed his example as they all looked, and there was a beat of silence as they tried to figure out what they were looking at.

He broke the silence by asking, “Who the hell is having a rave in here?”

“Oh I do love a good rave. I hope they have extra glowsticks.” Gordon heard more than saw Coomer walking towards the intersection, and he uncovered his light before trying to catch up with him.

Unease crawled up Gordon’s spine, and he fidgeted with the crowbar as they got closer. Once they made it, Gordon instinctively shirt-collared Coomer before he could take off towards the light source. The hallway where the lights were coming from was empty, but he could make out a few windows on one side, and on the other was a door. In order to get to the door, however, they would have to pass at least one window.

Most of the windows had a myriad of colors shining through them. The colors would pulse and change at any given moment, and there didn’t appear to be a rhyme or reason in the timing or what color would appear next. Except for the furthest window, where there was still a rainbow shining through, but it was dominated by an extremely bright red that would flash a few times before giving way to a greenish color. Afterwards, the pattern would start again.

While the light show was admittedly interesting to look at, he still couldn’t figure out what was causing it, and didn’t want to find out if he could help it. He backed up and tried to guide Coomer with him. “Let’s try the other way first.”

Bubby’s voice rang out behind him. “Already did. The door’s locked.”

“Wait, when did you-”

“While you were staring at the lights like a- like a moth at a zapper.” The way that statement was phrased did not help Gordon’s nerves. For all they knew, the light show was something else dangerous and used light to incapacitate its prey.

“So the only way to go is through the lights that may or may not kill us.”

“Looks like it.” Tommy came up in his peripheral, and even from that position, Gordon could tell that he was concerned too.

Tommy then took the first few steps forward, and Gordon had to let go of Coomer or else trip and get dragged behind. Bubby joined Coomer’s side, but he first elbowed Gordon to snap him out of the daze he was in.

He jumped, but he elected to not respond to the dig and brought up the rear.

His anxiety eased when the lights didn’t appear to have an effect on anyone as they touched them, and while the others went straight for the door, he couldn’t help but look into the window as he passed by.

What the fuck is that?

He stopped dead as he tried to put together just what his eyes were seeing. The function of the room was hard to discern thanks to the presence of a very large creature taking up a good portion of it and the green miasma muddying the air.

The creature was… Every color at once, but it wasn’t white. At least most of the time. It was constantly changing colors, and it registered in Gordon’s mind that this had to be causing the light show. Despite the rainbow death rave, there were also several spots on its body where there were splotches of black leaking out and pooling onto the floor.

Something that looked like a branched tail covered the back half of the room, and he couldn’t tell if it was twitching or if it was doing the real world equivalent of glitching out. What he could tell was that there were spikes lining each branch, and they went up the creature’s back as well.

The long body had several sets of limbs, or it would if it didn’t look like it was missing some. What was there had long claws and talons depending on which leg you were looking at, and he could have sworn that the backmost set had hooves. Black blood leaked out of the holes where it appeared to be missing limbs.

There was something covering the chest area that looked like it could have been inspired by a rib cage, but the pieces were jagged, and at least one piece was piercing the creature’s side.

When his eyes finally made it to the head of the creature, he noticed a few things. It appeared to have an antler not unlike a deer’s, and there was a jagged nub next to it on the creature’s head. The air locked door that it was next to had a few dents in it, but the weakly nudging head and scraping clawed hand were no longer doing any damage to it.

Out of the creature’s mouth came several floating orbs that were matching the red and green pattern he noticed earlier.

Something felt familiar.

“Guys? I think we found the alien?” He shouted over his shoulder.

When he looked back at the creature, the orbs changed to a vivid and violent orange, and suddenly there were eyes on him.

Hundreds of eyes opened on the creature’s body; all of them with black sclera, deep blue irises, and cat-like pupils.

Despite this, the creature’s head laboriously turned, and the ruff of fur on the creature’s neck appeared to fluff out. The face of the creature felt familiar, like he should know what kind of animal it was, but he couldn’t place it since there were eyes all over and in places they shouldn’t be. And he was pretty sure half of the face had been fucked up in the fight with the soldiers.

Even though the window was apparently strong enough to contain it, Gordon could not help feeling incredibly small in the presence of this angry alien. Someone tried to speak, but he swatted a hand towards them as if hoping silence would keep the thing from getting pissed off.

He really didn’t want to test their luck, and he inched backwards in the hopes that they’d be able to run away if it did somehow manage to break through.

After a moment of being stared down in silence, the fur fell flat, and the orbs briefly changed to a clear blue and possessed a wavey effect.

Then the creature started to shrink as the remaining clawed hand pointed towards a window next to the door it had been attacking.

“I do believe it wants us to go to the observatory room window!” Coomer’s voice nearly made Gordon jump ten feet into the air.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Gordon slammed a hand against his chest as he tried to control his breathing again.

Bubby appeared on Gordon’s other side. “Don’t think he has anything to do with it.” The sarcastic comment managed to draw an eye roll and a laugh from him, but it helped calm his racing heart.

“Anyway… I don’t know about this, what if it’s-” He wasn’t even able to finish the thought before Tommy rushed past him. Gordon turned to see where he was going, and his light illuminated a blood smear that Tommy appeared to be following

He waited for them just beyond the last window, where Gordon noticed the smear take a sharp turn, and he stopped and waved for the others to follow. Once they had gotten there, the door opened, and they almost all jumped when Tommy fired a shot.

There was a headcrab zombie’s upper half lying on the floor. Based on the fresh blood trail barely visible over the black painting the floor, it had been trying to crawl towards them before Tommy sniped it.

As they filed into the wrecked observatory room, Gordon couldn’t help but notice the biohazard and poison warnings plastered everywhere. It was probably related to whatever that green stuff floating in the room was, and if it was able to incapacitate whatever the hell that was it had to be potent.

Speaking of.

While the others meandered around the room, Gordon found the window into the environment room and tried to see what the creature’s deal was. There was an intercom set up right next to it, and thought it might be useful if the thing tried talking to him.

Once he was done messing with that, he looked into the window.

A human was standing on the other side.

Specifically, a man wearing a fucked up Security uniform. The helmet was literally in pieces, and Gordon did not want to know how half of it was staying on when the other half was gone, along with that side of the man’s face. The shirt and vest were shredded and littered with holes, and he was pretty certain that the other was missing an arm and a chunk of their chest.

The one eye that was left still had the dark sclera, slit pupil, and unnaturally blue iris of the creature’s.

“Yo.”

The voice was raspy as hell, as if just making that sound hurt.

It sounded like Benrey.

The imitation of another friend’s voice caused Gordon’s figurative hackles to raise as he remembered the incident with the Coomer clone. Accusingly, he snapped through the intercom, “Benrey’s dead, asshole. What are you?”

The eye widened for a second before the person on the other side leaned against the window. It would have been a lot scarier if not for the arm on display clearly trying to keep him upright. “It’s me, your bro.” “That doesn’t answer the question-”

“That room is full of Cyanogen Chloride!” Tommy announced. Gordon stopped glaring at the impostor in the window long enough to see that Tommy was looking at a tank that was strapped into a device that must be feeding it into the room.

“If- If that’s Benrey, that’s really bad.” He sounded panicked.

“Cyanogen Chloride is a toxic chemical compound with the formula-” Coomer helpfully began to explain.

Tommy joined Gordon over by the window. “You know Benrey came back- has gotten better from worse things than a gunshot, right?”

Gordon flinched at the reminder. That… was right. He blamed his likely existing concussion for forgetting that little fact. “But how do we know its him and not some shapeshifting alien that’s trying to kill us later?”

Even that seemed to stump Tommy.

“Just ask him something that only Benrey knows,” Bubby said with confidence.

Aggravated, Gordon argued, “But I don’t know what all he knows! He keeps disappearing and shit!”

“Well ask him!” Coomer’s advice didn’t make a lot of sense to Gordon, but if the glassy look in the possible Benrey’s eye implied anything, it was that they didn’t have a lot of time to figure it out.

“You know what? Convince me in one sentence that you’re Benrey. Or we’re going.”

The ultimatum hung heavy in the air, but for a second, Gordon wondered if he was even paying attention. He thought he was right to wonder that considering that the entity looked away for a while.

He almost repeated the demand when Benrey(?) all but fell against the window and asked, “Where’s your passport?”

No one else would ask that goddamned question.

“Oh shit.”

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 5

The monster in the launch bay was a bit of an issue. Could have used a heads up on that one, dad. Tommy watched, mouth partially open in mild shock, as a long, clawed arm busted through the window and plucked an employee out of the control room like they were a daisy.

“Do you need any help?” Bubby called, most unhelpfully.

Tommy was at least a little glad that he lived in a world that was still able to surprise him, even after everything he’d seen. He just wished he could be surprised in a more pleasant way. This gigantic, reaching creature with blades for arms was an unexpected inconvenience to say the least.

“I read through all seven thousand, two hundred and seventy one pages of the nuclear guidelines document and that’s not in there,” Tommy remarked sarcastically.

Gordon, stretched with fear like a rubber band, still found it in himself to let out an astonished laugh. “That’s not in any book written by a human.”

They dove into the guts of the rocket control facility in search of power. It was an absurdly long trek for something so crucial, made longer by the stabbing claws reaching down periodically to impale them. Gordon and the others were actually handling themselves pretty well considering how immense the danger was, leaving Tommy to focus on more important things, like corralling Benrey.

Tommy wasn’t sure how a skeleton managed to look so smug, but it did. The entity floated in and out of perception, distracting Gordon as much as possible while staying an acceptable distance away. Tommy kept a threatening eye on him as best as he could while being covert about it. At one point, however, the specter got a little too close for comfort while Tommy was mid-conversation with Gordon, and he pointed his firearm directly at him.

“Oh! Yes, you’re very on the uh,” his attention fell from the subject as he glared daggers at Benrey. “…up…swing, Mr. Freeman.”

The entity was hovering directly behind Gordon’s shoulder, grinning cheekily. Well, cheeklessly, if Tommy was being literal. His pistol was trained right between its eye sockets.

Gordon noticed. “Can you please not point your gun at me when you’re complimenting me?” he asked nervously.

Tommy didn’t answer. There was little reassurance one could offer a mortal staring down the barrel of a 45, even if it was pointed slightly to the right of his ear. What would he even say to him? It’s impossible for me to miss, Mr. Freeman? I could stop any bullet from hitting you if I wanted, Mr. Freeman? He kept his aim steady. Benrey didn’t move.

Next to him, Bubby gave Tommy an interested look. “Tommy, are you okay?” he asked.

The question surprised him. That was probably the first time Bubby had expressed any concern for him since he’d met him. He blinked and searched for any clarifying words he could offer them.

“I’m… not pointing it at your head, Mr. Freeman.”

Gordon’s laugh was a couple pitches higher than Tommy had come to expect. He was scared. Tommy was scaring him. And Benrey knew it.

“That’s right,” Gordon said, shaky sarcasm bleeding into his own words. “You’re pointing it about two inches away from my head.”

“Now, Tommy,” Dr. Coomer chirped in alarm. “It’s important to practice good trigger discipline."

Tommy was aware. Don’t point at anything you don’t intend to shoot. Don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you plan on pulling it. He’d done the training. He knew the rules. He also could curve bullets in midair by folding space like a sheet of paper, but that was neither here nor there.

Gordon was still talking to him like he was a spooked animal. “An important thing to understand about gun safety, Tommy, is that when you squeeze the trigger, you’re applying pressure to it-”

Benrey reached for Gordon with a skeletal hand. Tommy took the shot.

It rang through the buckled metal hallway, sending their ears whining from the aftershock. Gordon flinched and stared at Tommy, stunned. Benrey ducked out of the way, rattling to himself in what Tommy suspected was grim laughter. Fuck this guy. Didn’t he have anyone else to hang around with?

Tommy dropped his aim and flicked an apologetic glance at Gordon. He didn’t explain himself. How could he?

The other man held Tommy’s gaze, examining him as if he were a particularly tormenting puzzle.“Y’know?” he said finally, waving a dismissive hand. “Whatever.” He turned to go.

“I-” Tommy stammered. He couldn't leave things like that. “I’m always squeezing the trigger!” he blurted. Making an ass of himself usually worked. “Should I not be doing that?”

A shrill hyena’s laugh startled out of Gordon. “No!” He cast him a wide-eyed, disbelieving look, as if he wasn’t sure if Tommy was being serious. “No! You’re supposed to take your finger off the trigger, kid.”

Next to Tommy, Dr. Coomer raised his own firearm in Gordon’s direction. A threat? An act of solidarity? “We need to get a move on,” he told them matter-of-factly.

Tommy and Gordon exchanged a glance. They got a move on.

Benrey was jangling with invisible mirth in Tommy’s ear as they went. He grit his teeth and ignored him.

---

Dr. Coomer, in the end, was the one who worked the hardest to dispel the tension between the group. As the clone grew more comfortable with the company he kept, his personality was beginning to shine through in spectacular ways. Tommy found himself repeatedly shocked and delighted by the scientist’s absurd sense of humor.

It was a balm to their increasing plight as they fought their way through the reactor to turn on the power. When Coomer gleefully declared, “You’re a nasty little sewage boy, aren’t you, Gordon?” Tommy nearly blacked out laughing. It was almost enough to get him to forget about Benrey entirely.

Until, of course, the entity’s body finished manifesting. Benrey appeared on an industrial elevator, arms crossed and looking like a shark out to feed. God, he was still wearing that stupid security officer uniform. Gordon, shocked, marched up to him without hesitation, demanding answers. Tommy just watched him with slitted eyes from a good distance away, weapon in hand.

Beside him, Dr. Coomer was equally wary, eyeing the entity with an instinctual suspicion. Bubby had his arms folded with interest as he watched.

Benrey had barely uttered two sentences when Gordon smashed him in the face with a crowbar. He reeled backward from the blow, hand clapped to his jaw, neck cracked at an unnatural angle. There was a soft groan from the entity as Gordon kept an iron grip on his weapon.

Tommy stared. Whoa.

“Get the fuck back,” Gordon threatened, readying another strike. “I’m not taking your shit anymore, man.”

Benrey shuddered, rolled his neck grotesquely, and snapped it back into place. Silence followed, during which the entity gazed past Gordon to meet eyes with Tommy. He was breathing hard, a stunned expression on his face. Tommy allowed the barest of smirks to touch his mouth. He’s not an idiot, idiot.

“Did you just hit me?” Benrey finally asked pitifully, returning his attention to Gordon. Tommy fought not to roll his eyes.

“I did!” Gordon exploded. “I did just hit you! I’m sick of you!”

Tommy watched the guy unload his frustration from the past few days onto the reborn anomaly, and he had to admit it was satisfying to watch. Benrey was maddeningly calm throughout the whole exchange, quickly recovering from the initial shock of getting clobbered and resigning to stare at Gordon in a bored sort of way.

“I thought you died!” Gordon curbed his rant, throwing a wild-eyed stare back at the group for verification.

Tommy gave a tiny shrug. They had all died, technically. Save for himself, who didn’t make a habit out of dying if he could help it. Recreating a physical form took time and energy that Tommy didn’t always have, and it would be pretty rude of him to just disappear on the team while they were trekking through the hallways of hell. As for Bubby and Coomer, Tommy suspected their regenerative properties hashed out quicker and simpler with their photocopied DNA. And Benrey, well, he just didn’t give a fuck.

The two of them were still arguing, and Gordon let out a derisive laugh. “What do you want me to do?” He demanded of the entity, flinging out a hand animatedly.

Benrey tipped his chin. “You wanna stop moving? Why are you avoiding eye contact?”

“Wh-“ Gordon snorted. “I’m looking at my buddies. What do you want me to do, lay down and die? You want me to stay in Black Mesa while the fuckin-“

“Yeah,” Benrey interrupted, lazily inspecting his nails. “Yep. That’d be great.”

Gordon chuckled darkly. “I’m not about to do that. I’m a strong willed fucking guy, okay?”

Tommy snickered. Strong willed was right. Gordon Freeman was the only person he knew who would not only immediately thrash an eldritch monster on sight, but then follow up the drubbing by full-volume shouting when he refused to die. What a guy. Tommy knew he liked him for a reason.

Benrey cleared his throat. “Well, y’know,” he said loudly. “I’ll just have to follow you, then. Make sure you’re not going to steal anymore carts like you did earlier.”

Gordon’s mouth was agape in outrage. He cast another incredulous look back at the group, desperate for backup. “Are you on his side?” he asked. “Are you on his side about all of this?”

Tommy met his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. No, he wasn’t. But there was no keeping Benrey from sticking around if he’d got it in his head to do so. The best they could do was tolerate him and watch him closely, doing damage control as they went. Tommy had played the keep-away game with Benrey before. Benrey always won.

Bubby’s stare was hard, his mouth an impatient line. Beside him, Dr. Coomer had drawn his pistol again and was aiming it at the entity. “Gordon, is there an issue?” the boxer asked. “I would like to get moving.”

“We outnumber this guy four to one,” Gordon insisted.

Nobody said anything, trapped behind the walls of their own thoughts. The intercom grated overhead, ordering Gordon Freeman to passport inspection.

“Look, that’s what happens,” Benrey went on with a careless shrug. “You gotta stop acting up.”

Gordon was going to break his own jaw with how hard he was grinding his teeth. But he gave up trying to reason with the entity and beckoned the team on board the elevator.

They clambered inside and the lift shuddered down. Tommy stood near Benrey, watching him carefully as he sulked on the edge of the machine. The entity was still eyeing a seething Gordon, pupils dilated like a cat’s.

“Stop looking at me,” Gordon snapped. “Stop fucking looking at me.”

Before Benrey could open his mouth to reply, Tommy pressed the muzzle of his handgun against his cheekbone. A casual gesture for such a blatant threat. His eyes glittered with a warning.

“Here you go, Benrey,” he said mildly. “Here’s my passport.”

Benrey glared at Tommy and said nothing. Tommy wasn’t paying attention to the entity, instead fixing his gaze on Gordon. He had relaxed an iota with Benrey successfully diverted, and a hint of color touched his cheeks as he stared openly at Tommy. Was he blushing? It seemed unlikely.

Tommy gave Gordon a small nod as the elevator quaked around them. There was so much he wished he could tell him, about Benrey, about himself, about his father’s inscrutable machinations. The unbearable weight of knowing and not knowing hung between them. They were lost in this fucking horror pit together, and all Tommy wanted to do was reach out and take Gordon’s hand and claw through the darkness beside him.

The best Tommy could do was point a firearm at a reality altering trickster god and hope Gordon would catch what he meant. I’m with you. I’ve got your back. You can trust me.

You can trust me.

Chapter 4 <-----> Chapter 6