Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The sun shines through the window, casting the room in a warm glow like it does every morning. The nightly chill grows warmer. There's a firm body wrapped around him, warm like a blanket that's been slept in all night. Gordon is able to observe all of this, because, apart from a few missing hours, he hasn't slept all night.

The alarm on his phone is going off and he hasn't moved a muscle. Eventually, he feels movement and realizes Benrey's done it for him.

"Hey," Benrey says, in that drowsy tone of voice they always have around now. Not quite the rasp of someone who's just woken up, more like someone who's been awake for awhile. Their strong body stretches out before laying down atop Gordon's chest like a sleepy feline, their sharp chin poking into his flesh. "Got, plans in your… uh, planner?"

Exhausted, Gordon flexes his fingers against Benrey's back, subtly stretching out his limbs with a slow sigh before shaking his head. There's no response, just the feel of Benrey's fingers combing through his hair before they lean up to kiss his brow. "Gonna make brekky. Cool?" Gordon nods. Still, they take awhile to move, leaning up on their elbow and playing with his hair for several minutes instead.

After a quick shower Gordon barely remembers taking, he finds Benrey in the kitchen making a traditional breakfast. Stepping up behind them, Gordon puts his arms around their waist. They pause as he gets settled, head on their shoulders, turning to kiss his cheek before going back to what they were doing.

"We got, stuff comin' up right," Benrey mumbles. "With uh. The senior citizens and the classic case of the missing chair."

"What?" Gordon mumbles, quickly processing what they're referring to. "Oh, in a few days, yeah."

"Cool. So like, do you wanna go out tomorrow?"

Gordon pauses, so weary from sleep deprivation that he hardly registers their question or what it means. He stands there rebooting as Benrey starts picking at their lip every time their hands aren't busy, and once it finally hits him, there's a tinge of anxiety that starts taking root in his gut. "What do you have in mind?"

"Thinkin' about like, picnic," Benrey says, as Gordon takes an uneasy breath. "Could go to the park, checkers blanket, make little sammies and feed each other before the ants carry our basket away."

"…The park," Gordon reiterates.

"Yeah, like…" Benrey turns, turning to get a better look at his face. "Could go today. Take a nap in my lap, sun on your face. Nice right? Won't be rowdy, prommy."

Their offer does sound really nice, on paper that is. But is Gordon gonna be able to focus on anything when he's this tired, and out somewhere where his mind is bound to wander? "How about we just stay in, instead?" Gordon offers. His eyes flick towards where Benrey starts chewing their bottom lip before the alien turns away.

"Yeah, cool," they say, noticeably slower than before. "Maybe tomorrow. I'll find something better."

Gordon blinks slowly, sluggishly parsing their words. With such a flat affect it can be difficult to tell what they're thinking, but he can't help feeling like he's upset them unintentionally. Squeezing them around the waist, he says, "I like the idea. I'm just, uh, don't think I can be present today. Slept pretty bad and I think I'm seeing shit."

Benrey doesn't respond at first, focused entirely on their meal, which sizzles away in the pan. The bacon and eggs bleed into each other, eggs which are going to end up scrambled when Benrey fails to flip them properly. "Kay. Uh," they scratch the side of their face, "Wanna watch me play Grand Theft Auto 3 and sleep in my lap? Sleepy little… angel boy?"

That nickname makes him feel weirdly soft and mushy, so he buries his face in their hair, hiding his smile. "Sounds good."

"Dope. Hey when's your crotch fruit coming back."

Gordon snorts, startled. "Where did you learn that term? Sunday. Don't call him that to his face, okay? He's—"

"Sensssssssitive, the little baby boy who turn to stone if he hear the fuck word, got it." As Gordon makes a noise half offended and half humored, Benrey turns to blow a raspberry into his face. This rapidly devolves into a half hearted playfight resulting in Gordon having Benrey backed up against the counter, lazily kissing, until they remember to focus on the meal cooking behind them.

Gordon spends most of that day napping in Benrey's lap as promised—though the whole experience is surreal when it seems like Benrey never actually gets any farther in their game, until Gordon feels rested enough to figure out they're pausing to watch him sleep every single time he dozes off. It makes him wonder how their brain works—can they just sit still and do nothing for hours at a time? Maybe he can't comprehend because of the ADHD, or maybe it's just a… whatever Benrey is thing.

Or maybe they just don't feel things the way that he does. Do they get lonely? Do they get scared? He's seen them break down before, run away from conflict and behave with caution, though only recently. Are they different now? How different?

Gordon places a hand on the side of his brow where a headache is making his skull feel stuffed full of… something. Cotton? Is that what people say? Guh, he doesn't care to be eloquent anymore. "Hey," he says, looking up at Benrey who's watching him with half-lidded eyes, like the look of someone absorbed in a book. "Do you want to get, like, really drunk?"

They blink at him, surprised, and the hand they have running through his hair halts. For some reason, he expects they're going to be the voice of reason, turn him down and gently place something better into his lap. Instead, they say, "Hell yeah. Fun and frisky Gordos Fruitman, gonna do—shots shots shots off my body? Gonna poguhhh—pong into the little red cups and, uh—yahtzee."

Gordon snorts. "I was thinking more like, uh… we could watch something dumb and play a drinking game. Like every time they say something we have to take a drink."

He wasn't thinking that at all. He doesn't care what they're doing, he just cares that he's not thinking anymore. It's an impulse, and not a good one, he knows this, but his impulse control dumped him years ago and Benrey certainly isn't taking on the role, is he? And to keep him that way, Gordon thinks up whatever sounds fun to convince them that this is fun, and not horribly depressing, and maybe it actually will be fun as a result.

"Do you wanna watch Ready Pl—"

"No."

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyy-uh."

"It's terrible," Gordon says, shaking his head and chuckling softly at Benrey tugging on his arm. After a bit of back-and-forth, they manage to agree on something, and a list of things to drink to is procured off the internet. They retrieve the wine coolers Benrey "acquired" while Gordon fishes out a bottle of gin hidden deep in a cabinet where Joshua can't reach it.

The coffee table gets pushed away and Benrey deposits a bunch of bedding on the floor in front of the couch where they snuggle up for their movie. Gordon thinks to comment on how everything with Benrey seems to be as lazy as possible, but he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. It's a compliment, anyway. Gordon starts slipping into self-loathing spirals if he slacks off too much, but now he feels reassured that it's okay to be a bit of a bum in his own home, since Benrey is always bumming around anyway.

"Hey," Benrey starts, popping the lid off their second wine cooler of the night with their teeth. The sound feels satisfying to Gordon's ears, and he leans closer against Benrey's side where they've had their arm wrapped around his shoulder through most of the movie. Now that he's slumped down against a couch, Benrey can actually reach his shoulders. "Gonna say something real gay so get ready."

Frowning curiously, Gordon turns away from the movie to focus on them. "Okay? I'm ready. Go full homo on me."

His words have a smirk tugging at Benrey's lips. "This is, like, really good. I like you. You're nice to me like you used to be and… I like it here. This turned out way better than I thought it would and I'm happy you're giving me a chance and—uhhhh," they pause to laugh awkwardly, the rim of their bottle held against their lip. Gordon just stares at them, surprised. "That's it those are all my words. Hope you—uhhh—like and subscribe for more… smash that bell…"

Gordon puts an arm around their waist, gently urging them closer to him and prompting them to glance quickly up at him, eyes wide. Maybe this is just the alcohol making them both terribly sentimental, but Gordon finds himself saying, "It's good, having you here. Not quite as lonely or quiet as it was before, and Tommy'll tell you it was real miserable around here before."

Benrey blinks up at him. "Tommy?"

"Sorry I didn't give you much of a chance… before," Gordon continues, horribly averse to dropping the name of that place even with a drink to loosen his tongue. "Just—I've always had kind of a bad temper and it already wasn't the greatest day, barely got to work on time to begin with, so I was taking it out on you. Then everything went to shit and you were an easy target for all that stress."

"Bro stop taking all the blame," Benrey interjects with a whine. "Rude. Toxic, toxic character trait number one, let me have a trait, for instance—s'just pushing you all the time. Think you're so cute when you're angry all pink and pushing me up against walls and shit, damn. Heart pal… palp… pulp… whatever. I was bullying you cuz it was funny but it was bad actually, wasn't funny, didn't laugh. Or well I laughed but I shouldn't have. And, um… shit this was supposed to be cute but you made it emo, fuck you. I hate you actually."

A startled laugh forces its way out of Gordon, and he squeezes Benrey's side. They slump against him, taking a slow drink that seems more like an excuse not to speak for awhile. "Hey, I'm trying to be heartfelt over here," Gordon says.

Silence seeps in, causing his good mood to sober quickly. The lack of response has him worrying more than he should, like maybe he'd said something wrong and they were actually mad now. He takes another drink, hoping to drown the anxiety out.

"Are we… uh," Benrey mumbles, hesitating before resting his arm on Gordon's thigh. "…Like, a couple…? Officially…"

Gordon turns to look down at them, perplexed. It's difficult to see their face, head hung with one hand picking at their lip. "Yeah? Aren't we?"

"Really? Did you, change your mind about the… you said, take slow, see what happen… s'this what happen? Couple?"

Heat rises to Gordon's face, warming it even more than the alcohol already is. Every time they get like this, all bashful and syruppy like a swooning teenage girl, Gordon feels just as embarrassed. It's as if they're infecting him with it. Part of him wants to tease them to clear the air, but he isn't drunk enough to make that mistake right now—they're more fragile than they seem.

Instead, Gordon turns and presses a kiss to their brow. "Pretty sure we've been a couple this whole time, regardless. If we weren't, I wouldn't be calling you my boyfriend."

Predictably, Benrey makes a noise at that word, sinking lower and curling closer to Gordon. Their voice comes out a bit choked. "Oh. Cool. Yeah that's, cool, epic."

Grinning, Gordon kisses them again, to the top of the head this time. "You're kind of a dork."

"What? NO. I'm cool jock with, nerd boyfriend. Shove you in a locker but like, I get in too and we kiss a lot and it's really cool. Whisper those, formulas in my ear. Pie, pagan theory or whatever."

Gordon snorts, briefly burying his face in the fabric of their hat. "What? Are you talking about the pythagorean theorem?"

"Oh yeah daddy, talk nerd to me…"

Laughing harder, Gordon pulls back to playfully shove them away from him, delighting in the toothy grin they give in response. "Don't call me that!"

Benrey sits up, drink set aside somewhere to grab onto the front of Gordon's shirt. "Or what? Whatcha gonna do? Destroy me with facts and logic?"

Grabbing them around the waist, their back arches as he pulls them closer against him. "Oh, I know what your weak point is," Gordon gloats, "I'm smart like that."

"Yeah?" He watches Benrey's throat bob as they swallow, yellow eyes darting down towards his lips. "Prove it."

With a cocky smirk, Gordon leans in, pausing by their lips as their hand slides into his hair. He turns to push them back against the couch, blocking the movie he hasn't been paying much attention to anyway in favor of kissing Benrey, tasting the strawberry-flavored alcohol on their lips.

Sometime later, after the movie's been over for quite awhile, Gordon buries his face into Benrey's neck, their hair soft against his cheek. They run their fingers through his, cascading down around his shoulders in a mess of curls.

"Let's go out tomorrow," Gordon says. "I know a place… you'll like it."

He receives a low hum in response, a few notes of a song Gordon can't read yet putting a cool glow into the air by his head. "Will I? Got my, likes and dislikes section in your brain?"

"I'm very intelligent."

The resulting grin Benrey makes in response to that can be felt against his skin as they turn to kiss his neck. "Big strong man, strong brain. Takin' me out, like a couple? Couple stuff?" As Gordon nods, nose brushing against their neck, they slide their arms around him, resting their head on his shoulder. "So what are the… rules."

Gordon blinks slowly. "What? What rules?"

"You know, uh… hand holding, good? Kissing in public, not good?"

"Oh." Somehow, Gordon hadn't expected them to be well behaved enough to ask that preemptively. "Uh… it depends if anyone's looking," Gordon says. "Not really polite to makeout in public, but… you can hold my hand, that's fine." Not like anyone here knows me, anyway. "The rest… uh. I just don't like people… looking. It's different here than it is up north and it already wasn't that great for two men holding hands in public. Like, that's pushing it already. But I kind of, like it… prefer it when we're holding hands. Helps me keep you close by."

"Awwwh," Benrey coos. "That's gay, Freeman. You're gay."

"Bi," Gordon corrects.

"Where are you going?"

It takes a second for the pun to land, but when it does, Gordon laughs a bit harder than the joke really warrants—maybe because it's so awful and stupid, and because his playfully offended reaction makes Benrey light up so much. He likes this, when they look so happy because of some dumb joke that made Gordon laugh, playfighting and kissing until that laugh sounds more like a series of hysterical wheezing, and not… because of anything more nefarious, whether they realize it or not.

"Idlyic" is a word Gordon would use to describe his life of late. Even if it's not quite all there, he's sleeping well for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he's taking care of himself a bit better, and he's been having fun. Sometimes he pauses to mentally capture a moment where the sun shines through the window just right and everything feels dreamlike and nostalgic—or a moment where he's laughing so hard because of something Benrey said that he realizes he hasn't felt this happy in awhile.

Today isn't like that. Spur of the moment plans were made and they have a date—it isn't nerves that's bothering Gordon, not in the slightest. He doesn't have to impress Benrey or stress over the right time to do certain things when he's already made an impression on them, and already done all those things. They're just hanging out, in a different location.

It's the location that's bothering him. There's nothing wrong with it, really, just an aquarium that isn't bound to have too many people around. The price of admission is a bit high afterall. It'll be quiet, with a peaceful atmosphere, maybe even a few places where he can kiss Benrey without anyone noticing. And he already knows Benrey will love it, considering he'd barely even mentioned it to them before they'd gotten very excited, to the extent they wanted to go immediately and couldn't stop talking about it well into the night.

But that's also why it's got him so on edge. Looking at the photos online, it's dark, so anyone could be hiding in the shadows, following them around without notice. It's so quiet that his voice would carry easier, so he could hardly have a private conversation without anyone noticing. And that Benrey loves it so much just means it'll hurt worse if it all goes wrong.

Gordon tries his best to shove these thoughts aside. This is their first actual date, together and for Benrey in general, and they deserve to have some fun, get more exposure to the outside world. Not be stuck inside with Gordon's depressing ass all day.

Nice clothes aren't really a thing Gordon owns, but he tries to put some actual thought into it. Braids his hair over one shoulder so it looks like he put some effort in. Stares at the makeup stored under the sink before deciding that's too much and passing it up.

Instead he studies himself in the mirror, fussing over every single thing he possibly could. Is his shirt unbuttoned too much? It's still fairly warm outside and he runs hotter than the average person, but he considers how it might be too suggestive while rolling the sleeves up over his elbows. The chocolate brown slacks hug his legs a little, and are the nicest he has outside his old work clothes, which aren't super attractive. The oxfords feel like they're pushing it, though.

Shaking his head, he quickly finishes up in the bathroom and steps out. This is the best it's going to get, so he resigns himself to looking like some kind of private tutor in a gay porn. It's only Benrey anyway. He's seen so much worse and hasn't run for the hills yet, so it doesn't matter, right? Yeah. Gordon nods to himself. This is fine. Everything will go just fine.

He finds Benrey in the living room, braiding their hair into the same style Gordon had put it in the last time they went out. Pausing by the edge of the hallway, he watches them work for a few moments, their claws threading strands of raven hair together with a precision and dexterity that takes Gordon by surprise. The claws seemed kind of unwieldy, but of course Benrey would be used to them.

"Gonna come in or what," Benrey says without turning around, startling Gordon. With a soft sigh he steps forward, and they peek at him over their shoulder, quickly doing a double take. Their eyes go wide, yellow eyes dilating to nearly full black as they rake their gaze down his body, pausing suspiciously long on his brown oxfords before fixating on the braid draped over his shoulder.

"What?" Gordon says, a little touchy, as the silence drags on for far too long. He could guess that they like what they see, but when he's going off basically nothing beyond their fixation and the dilation of their eyes it's very easy to let his mind wander into insecurity. Maybe they think he looks ridiculous, like a businessman planning on seducing his boss for a raise or something.

A strange noise comes out of Benrey as they quickly turn away, fiddling with their braid. "Uh—You look. Good," they choke.

"Oh," Gordon responds, voice tight. "You think?"

"Yeah," they sigh, finishing their braid and turning to rest against the back of the couch, head in their arms. "Damn. Out here lookin' like an expensive sugar daddy or sumthin'. Woof."

Embarrassed, Gordon looks away, an awkward, yet strangely pleased grin playing at his lips as heat rises to his face. "These are just… some old clothes I found tucked away," he modestly dismisses. "It's hardly expensive, I think most of it is secondhand…"

"You can… second… my hand in marriage," Benrey says, mumbling a little, and Gordon looks at him with an amused yet quizzical expression.

"What?"

"Man, I dunno! I can't fucking think when you got your tits out, fuck."

Snorting, Gordon chuckles a little as he steps closer to the couch, leaning against the back in a slight mirroring of Benrey's position. He sees them tense up in anticipation, staring down at his lips. "So it's acceptable, then? Good to know." Reaching out to brush some of their hair aside, he cups the back of their head, leaning in to kiss them. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uhhh yeah just… shoes," they mumble, staring down at his lips for a moment before sitting back down properly. Gordon watches them lean down to fiddle with some buckles on their knee-length boots before standing up. Leaning on the armrest to adjust the fit of their boots, Gordon catches sight of the edge of a blue plaid skirt beneath their large, unzipped hoodie, with black and grey striped tights. "'Kay I'm ready."

"Did you remember your…" Gordon trails off as Benrey rounds the couch to stand beside him, giving him a really good view of their outfit—the skirt is a pinafore as it turns out, covered in zippers and chains with a spiked belt, all worn over the top of a fishnet shirt. His eyes trail down to their now human shaped hands, nails painted black with a stilleto tip, back up to where their brown eyes have adopted a black stain around them like smeared eyeliner.

A smug grin parts their lips where Gordon can see all their teeth sharpened to a fine point, in a human body mod sort of way, as they pull a pair of sunglasses out of their hoodie pocket, dramatically flicking them open and putting them on. "Yeah, I did," they say. "I'm on top'a shit bro. Are you?"

"Huh?" Gordon blurts, tearing his eyes away from where the dress hugs Benrey's waist. "Yeah, I'm…" he pauses, double checking to make sure he actually is, but the only thing he's actually got on him is his phone. "Shit."

"Chill," Benrey says, and he raises his gaze to find them holding out his wallet between two of their fingers.

"Where—"

"Laundry. Tryna ruin all your cards or sumthin'?" Stepping past him, they pause to kiss him on the cheek, gently running a hand down his cheek in a soothing gesture. He can't help that he leans into it, his face growing a bit warm. "S'okay, I got you bro." Benrey heads for the door, the jingle of keys drawing Gordon's gaze down to where they've got them dangling from their fingers. "Gonna shotgun or what."

"What… Wait, no, you are not driving." The grin on Benrey's face spells of nothing but trouble, and Gordon races over to take the keys from them just to have them pulled outside his reach. "You don't even have a license!"

"Guess you gotta catch me then huh."

They're out the door before Gordon can react, and he has to call them back to lock the door so they don't get fucking robbed, immediately grabbing them around the waist once they're done so he can wrestle the keys from them. They laugh rauscously and wriggle to get away from.

"Give me the keys man!"

"AhhHaaHAHHHH—NEVER—!"

They manage to break free, and he chases them down to the car where they somehow manage to outpace him despite being so much shorter. Though, before they can get inside the car, Gordon catches them, lifting them up around the waist as they wiggle around. "Wahh—!" they exclaim, kicking their legs though carefully avoiding hitting the car in the process, and Gordon can see they've got black shorts on under their dress.

"Gonna have to surrender now," Gordon playfully taunts, all his earlier anxieties forgotten. Instead, now his blood is pumping from the excitement of the chase and how much he can't stop laughing all the while. "I got you, man! Give it up!"

"Oh noooooohh, captured by a big ssstronng man," Benrey says. "Whatever will I dooooo…"

Laughing and wrestling to get the keys back, Benrey eventually holds them perfectly in reach for Gordon to snatch them up. After that, he places them back down, where they pretend to wobble and fall against his chest. "Oh, hello," they purr, burying their face in his chest. Gordon can't help but laugh at their ridiculous behavior.

The trip to the aquarium is short and Benrey spends the whole time toying with the radio station until finding something that blasts metal hard enough to rattle the frame of the car. They also figure out where the bass dial is, which he was kind of hoping they wouldn't, because they turn that way the fuck up immediately. At least they seem to be enjoying themself.

The second they step out, Benrey hurries to round the front of the car where they wait for Gordon to join them, grabbing onto his hand immediately. Their grip is a bit tight in their enthusiasm and Gordon has to coax them into loosening it, adjusting his hold on them to be more comfortable in the process.

Inside, Benrey takes off their sunglasses to look around the dimly lit area, where there's circular floorlights along the sides of the hallway up until they reach an area with some actual fish tanks in it. Then the lights coming from inside them are the only thing illuminating the hallways, where Gordon can see just a small smattering of people here and there. Mostly couples and small friend groups, all adults. Gordon's so busy studying every single one of them, running an analysis of their immediate threat level that he doesn't notice the look on Benrey's face until he's being tugged over to the nearest tank.

Glancing briefly up at the colorful fish, Gordon looks down at Benrey's mesmerized stare, their free hand reaching out to press against the glass and stopping just short. Brown, nearly black eyes dart down towards their hand before looking up at Gordon and asking, "Is touching the glass legal or."

"Uh… to be honest, I'm not sure…?" He glances around, quickly spotting a sign nearby. "That sign just says not to tap it."

They lay their hand down immediately, getting as close as they possibly can without pressing their face against the glass. Despite this being his first visit to an aquarium since he was a child, Gordon finds himself watching Benrey instead of the aquatic life on display. Their childlike fascination is adorable—and a little sad, the more Gordon dwells on it.

"Whoa," Benrey breathes as one of the fish, which isn't even anything particularly interesting—Gordon's pretty sure he's fished and eaten one of those, even—swims right past their face. "Bro, fish confirmed real? Not invented by Amil Crossing?"

Gordon exhales a laugh, squeezing their hand. "Just wait till you see the really cool stuff," he tells them. "I think this place has some sharks further down."

"Whaaat? Bro I wanna see Jaws," Benrey pleads, tugging Gordon down the hall. Though, they just keep stopping to look at everything they pass by, further prolonging their visit to the shark tanks. Gordon reads a few of the informative plaques out loud to them, unsure if Benrey's listening when their gaze is so fixated on following their favorite fish around the tanks, but the one time Gordon trails off, Benrey complains until he keeps going.

"What would life be like if you were a fish, just swimmy around all day," Benrey says, among many other whimsical things that have come out of their mouth since getting here. "Algae… Can we go to the beach sometime I wanna do that," he says, pointing at a large moray eel slithering around inside the tank.

"I mean, I'd have to teach you to swim first," Gordon reminds them. "But, yeah. Sounds like fun."

"Ahhh dope. That's so epic," Benrey says, their voice dull yet the faster pace at which their words come out makes it obvious they're excited. Not to mention, Gordon finds it easy to differentiate between the lifelessness of their voice usually, and the energy in it right now, even if the difference isn't terribly vast. "Whoaaa ribbon eel."

It's also kind of cute how they seem to know the names of a lot of the fish they're seeing, all of which Gordon's pretty sure are in Animal Crossing. It makes him wonder if they'd enjoy getting to play the new one. Maybe he could get them their own Switch to play on, it's not like he can't afford it. There's no gift giving holidays coming up anytime soon, but—

Someone brushes past and Gordon tenses up, stiff as a board, a sharp gasp tearing out of him. Glancing over his shoulder, he watches a pair of people walk past, casually dressed—too casual?—and too absorbed in conversation—or is one of them looking at him?—to notice Gordon standing there. As he stares, his mind works overtime trying to parse a whole list of things, heart rate picking up as his mind proposes the hypothetical that one of them could have placed a tracker on him. What do plain clothes cops look like? Fuck, what do plain clothes government agents look like? Or the military for that matter? They wear a color, right, some kind of signal…

There's a tug on his hand, nearly scaring Gordon right out of his skin. Whipping around, he spots Benrey looking up at him with large, curious eyes. Lips working silently, Gordon takes a deep breath, trying against all odds to appear calm.

"Wh, what's up?" he says, the nerves completely obvious in his voice. "Done looking at, uh…" He glances up at the tank, then quickly back where he fails to find the people he was just watching, panicking a little to realize he's let them out of his sight. It's hard to convince himself to let it go, to believe there's nothing nefarious going on, so he can return his sights to Benrey. "Eels? Oh, Joshua loves these. Maybe I should take him here next time he's around."

"Gordon," Benrey says, taking him by surprise. It's a little like when his mother would yell his full name from across the room, producing a similar sort of oh, shit level anxiety. Though, Benrey says it gently, kindly, nothing like his mother. "Do you wanna go look at the jellyfish?"

Blinking down at them, it takes Gordon a moment to realize they haven't said anything terribly noteworthy, and he relaxes. Why did he think they were going to say something serious, anyway? It's Benrey. "Yeah, sure. Do you know where they are?"

The answer to that turns out to be no, or so Gordon would assume, considering, despite Benrey leading him forward by the hand, they keep getting distracted, walking at a snail's pace to take in all the sights. Every now and then they stop to take pictures or video on their phone, and more than once Gordon's caught them trying to take a picture of him. He's starting to get a little too aware of it, though, hiding an awkward smile every time he notices Benrey's phone aimed at him. A few times they try to cuddle up to him, and he feels this pang of longing every time they hastily move away. He wishes everyone else would clear out so they could do whatever they want, but he isn't quite well-off enough to rent out an entire aquarium for any length of time.

Tommy probably could, a very unhelpful part of Gordon's brain supplies.

As he thinks that, he glances back over his shoulder, noticing someone staring at them where their hands are connected. Turning his head back towards the tank, he watches with only his eyes, mind racing as he tries to figure out what they're thinking about, what they're whispering about. Too many possibilities, and Benrey doesn't seem aware of any of it. Tommy probably wouldn't care either, that voice in his head continues. Tommy would probably put an arm around him in public. Kiss him without a care to who sees. Take him out a lot more than this.

Stop, Gordon consciously counters, his whole body growing taut with anxiety. There's nothing wrong with this. Benrey's having a good time, from what Gordon can tell, and he has to believe that nothing's going to go wrong, that nobody is going to hurt them. It's just an aquarium.

They continue onwards, and for once Benrey moves forward at a quick pace, dragging Gordon over to a section of tanks full of sharks that are swimming all around them. Benrey tilts their head all the way back to watch one of them gliding gracefully past overhead, starry eyed, and Gordon focuses on them, on their childlike wonder and enthusiasm for the aquatic life they've never seen in person before.

"Bro that one looks like me," Benrey says, eagerly pointing to a whale shark gliding past in the distance. Gordon squints at it, uncertain what they're referring to until Benrey rolls up the sleeve of their hoodie to show him their freckles, now in a perfectly human shape, crawling up their arm. The dotted pattern on the shark looks a lot closer to how Benrey looks normally.

Their enthusiasm for the whale shark makes sense after that—not just for the pattern or the color, but its massive, dangerous body, the rows of teeth, the elegance of its movements. It makes sense that Benrey would latch onto the shark exhibit so much, though, again, Gordon spends more time watching Benrey than the sharks.

It takes awhile before they move on—and a lot of pictures on Benrey's phone, which must have limitless storage or something. But the longer they're here, the more anxiety starts to prickle at Gordon's mind. The place is dark—not so dark that he can't see his hand in front of his face or anything, but dark enough that he could easily miss something in the distance. Every person he sees, he feels the need to observe and remain constantly vigilant of. And looking at the fish themselves provides a unique kind of unease that Gordon hasn't faced in awhile; the fear of creatures with too many teeth chasing him through the inky depths of the water.

The next time Benrey pulls him along, Gordon tears his eyes away from an anglerfish with a slow sigh, not having realized just how tense the thing made him. It was so small in comparison to the thing at Black Mesa, but it could easily attach to his hand and chew the whole thing off, and Gordon's not sure if he'd react fast enough to stop it. Though it's in a tank, so there's no need to worry, but still…

He tunes back in to realize, Benrey's not taking him to another of the tanks. They're looking around each corridor in search of something, and when Gordon tries to ask what it is, they mumble something he can't make out. It, admittedly, has him on edge. Do they see something he doesn't, some hidden threat?

Eventually they find what they're looking for—there's a little alcove along one of the walkways, secluded and separate from all the tanks. Gordon would guess it's something for the staff, but Benrey doesn't seem to care, tugging Gordon along into the isolated area.

"Talk time," Benrey says, turning and gently guiding Gordon to lean back against the wall, where Benrey holds onto both his hands between their bodies. Their gaze remains fixed on his chest, avoiding eye contact.

Gordon's anxiety skyrockets. "Is something wrong?"

"You're all weird, bro. If you're not having a good time we can just go home and watch something instead."

Guilt crashes through Gordon's body like a lightning strike. Some of his worst fears seem to be manifesting, this time in the fact that his own inability to cope with the outside world is ruining Benrey's enjoyment of it. He should stop. In his head it feels so easy to stop, but in practice…

"No," Gordon says, squeezing their hands. "I'm fine. If I'm a little spacy it's just this place, it's kinda, relaxing here after all. Low lighting and everything. Like the perfect thing to fall asleep to, you know?"

The forced cheer in his voice doesn't seem to be fooling anyone, least of all Benrey, who stares blankly up at him rather than respond. "Don't lie, please," Benrey says, taking Gordon by surprise, a surprise which shows plainly on his face, caught too far off guard to hide it. "That's so sucks bro. You gotta tell truths, we're boyfriends. Tell me truths."

Gordon winces, sighing deeply. "I… listen, Benrey. I *am* having fun, it's just hard for me to… I've got these weird ideas in my head. Everyone just thinks I'm paranoid but—after…" Black Mesa, "…Nothing… NOTHING happened. Life just went on and it can't be that easy, can it? They wanted us wiped out, especially me, for some reason. I'm just wondering when the other shoe is gonna fall."

As he trails off with a sigh, Benrey stares blankly at him, blinking slowly with their lips parted. They look slightly high, or like they haven't been paying attention, and Gordon groans. "Look, it doesn't matter, let's just—"

"Hold on. I'm buffering," Benrey interrupts. Surprised, Gordon stares down at them, now recognizing their expression for one of deep thought rather than vacancy. If he can extend this kind of social patience to Tommy, he can do it for his own boyfriend. After awhile, Benrey clicks their tongue and drawls, "Think I get it now. Okay. Is there… can I make it better? 'M keepin' an eye out already but if you still don't feel safe…"

"You are?" Gordon blurts, wincing again at how that sounds. "I mean, I know you are. It's just, kinda hard to know that when you seem so focused on other things. And that's fine! We came here to look at fish, not for you to babysit me in public. God, I sound stupid."

"Nuh," Benrey interjects. "Not dumb. You're so valid, bro." The way they say that forces a startled chuckle out of Gordon's mouth. What kind of tumblr post nonsense? "You got any rituals? That's what they're called right. Things that make you feel safe? I'll do them for you."

"Huh?" Gordon says, uncertain what that means. Benrey is difficult to parse at the best of times, but now it sounds more like they just know something he doesn't, which is… rare.

"Like locking the doors and wearing my hoodie," Benrey explains. "Oh shit, do you want my hoodie?"

"Uh—" Gordon hesitates. That might look too transparently romantic in their current setting, holding hands as he's clearly wearing an article of clothing not meant for him. It's bad enough he's felt so many eyes on them just for that, and Benrey's more feminine choice of wardrobe. It looks amazing on them but they're in the southern US right now. Gordon would fear for his life just being seen with Benrey if not for the fact he trusts them to protect him. Doesn't make the prying eyes feel any better though. "No, but… this is so fucking insane—"

"Doubt it."

"—Can you check me to see if I'm wearing a tracker?" Gordon asks, gritting his teeth and averting his eyes to save himself some of the embarrassment. A prolonged moment passes in silence. Eventually, he hears Benrey pop their lips.

"Yeah, okay." Their casual response has Gordon breathing out slowly, relieved, but still burning hot with shame. "Sir, please put your hands on the wall and stand with your feet a foot apart."

"What?" Gordon blurts, as Benrey reaches out to begin frisking him, checking every inch, every pocket, every potential hiding spot. It's flustering, and having their hands so close to his more sensitive bits makes his heart race, but he endures it, turning when they prompt him to do so. It feels horribly reminiscent of the time he got busted for drinking in public as an edgy teen, just with a gentler, more loving touch as opposed to the cold and impersonal hands of a police officer.

Once they're done, Gordon spins back around. Benrey's holding something in his hands, and it gives Gordon a fright before he registers it as nothing but a loose thread that they quickly flick away.

"All clear sir," Benrey says, rapidly dropping the… Gordon hesitates to say "cop persona" considering he's pretty sure Benrey would be deeply upset if he even so much as implied they had any similarities to an officer of the law. But their little frisking has made Gordon feel better immensely, and he can breathe a huge sigh of relief. Pulling them into a hug, Gordon rests his head on top of theirs, inhaling the scent of their shampoo, smoky and with hints of chocolate. They wind their arms around him in return, tucking their face into his neck.

"Thank you," he says. "After… that helped more than you know." He runs his hands through their hair, indulging in the soft, curly strands. "I think I'm fine now. Just, uh… you'd know what a government agent looks like right. You've had some experience with that, haven't you?"

Benrey stiffens in their arms. It takes awhile before Gordon recognizes his slip-up; right, he was supposed to be pretending not to understand the hints Benrey's been dropping about their past. But, right now, he really needs to know they have the kind of knowledge and experience that will keep him safe. So he doesn't backtrack. Lets them think whatever they want about his meaning.

"Uh," Benrey eventually says, popping their lips again. "Got… badges on 'em. Brass, copper… I'll sniff 'em out. Twitch my nose like a lil' bunny so you can see, I'm on the prowl. We're all good though."

Cupping the back of their head, Gordon slowly nods, tangling his fingers in their hair. "Okay," he says. That makes sense, probably. Benrey's so fucking weird, why not believe they can sniff out specific types of metal from a distance? Sure. Might as well! Even if it's only a placebo and they're completely lying, it does help reduce Gordon's anxiety. "Thank you. Sorry for freaking out, I'm good now. Do you wanna go see the jellyfish? Afterwards, we can go check out the giftshop."

"Ahhh, dope," Benrey responds, bouncing slightly on their heels. Pulling away, they grab onto his hand and drag him back out in the direction of the jellyfish tank.

That weekend, they arrange for another visit to the Boomer's little suburban home. Though usually the outings are weekly, they'd skipped the previous one to take a break after their more involved trip a week prior. Gordon finds himself dreading it a little—this is the first time he's going to see the Boomers since him and Benrey started dating, and after that embarrassing talk they'd all had at the cabin about it.

At least he has cookies to hide behind. They're still perfectly soft and just as tasty as they were when they were fresh, so maybe it'll be a sufficient distraction.

"Hey," comes the sound of Benrey's voice at his back. They kiss the side of his neck, wrapping their arms around him where one of their hands finds his, the backs of their fingers brushing his wrist in the process. He tangles his fingers with theirs, feeling them nuzzle into his shoulder. "Is PDA off the table at the old folk's home."

Gordon laughs. "Don't call it that. And, uh, a little is okay but don't make it weird for everyone else. It's awkward being around a lovey-dovey couple, you know?"

"Oh, is that what we are?"

"The way you cling to me, is that a real question?" Gordon scoffs, humored, turning to face them. Benrey's wearing a black harness on the outside of his hoodie that wraps around his shoulders and cups his chest in a way that should be illegal, frankly, but it also looks casual at the same time. As casual as someone in alt-fashion ever gets, Gordon supposes. Beyond that are tight leather pants with more harnesses on his thighs, and tall boots ending just below the knees.

"My eyes are up here," Benrey says, and Gordon nearly chokes, turning bright red as a toothy smirk spreads across Benrey's lips.

"I was just looking at your outfit!"

"Uh huh. Gordon… Gothfetishman."

"Don't call it a fetish—!"

They bicker until it, somehow, leads to Gordon having Benrey backed up against a nearby wall, kissing frenetically. Benrey's hand is in his hair, nearly messing up the careful styling he'd put into it that morning. As if they care. If they had their way, Gordon's hair would be hanging loose around his shoulders all the time, but he can't stand having it in his way like that. He doesn't know how Benrey can do it all the time, and with twice as much hair too.

The sound of Gordon's phone going off pulls him out of their impromptu makeout session, Benrey kissing down his neck as he stares down at the barrage of notifications on his lockscreen. Looks like Bubby figured out Gordon doesn't have @All muted on their discord server, unlike everything else, so he isn't constantly alerted to the bizarre conversations going on at all hours. And they're using it to the fullest—even Tommy is participating, everyone wondering where the fuck they are. That's when Gordon realizes they're running late.

Gordon nearly rushes them out of the house without the cookies—luckily Benrey isn't running on ADHD-brain and keeps Gordon on track, so they don't forget anything on their way out. The giftboxes are in bags for easier carrying, and Benrey keeps watch over them in the passenger's seat with him.

They're halfway there when Gordon takes notice of Benrey's fidgeting—like, the alien is usually always doing something with his hands, or his teeth at least, but this is different. He shifts in his seat, sitting up straight before slumping over again moments later. His legs rock and sway, his nails tap, his arms cross and uncross. Gordon's seconds away from saying something about it when Benrey sits up again and more-or-less blurts out, "Stop the car."

Confused, Gordon nearly does exactly that despite being in the middle of the fucking road. Panic rises in his chest, suddenly paranoid that they've noticed something he hasn't, checking his rear view for black vans or whatever else. "What? Why? What's going on?"

"Stop—Pull over please," Benrey says, staring straight down at the floor.

Once there's a good spot for him to do so, Gordon pulls over to the side of the road. They're in a commercial district; not a very busy street though, so the fact that Benrey has his claws out and his eyes are a glowing yellow doesn't matter so much.

Except for the fact that seeing such inhuman traits displayed openly in a public setting has Gordon even more on edge. Are they being followed? But why would Benrey make him stop the car if that were the case? Is Benrey gonna kill whoever's after them?? In broad daylight???

"Gotta… sorry. Stop freaking out," Benrey says, without even looking up. Gordon hasn't even said anything, too stuck in his own paranoid inner musings to form words. Maybe that's what gave him away.

"I'm not," Gordon lies. "Just—What's going on?"

"Nothing! I mean, like, I didn't do anything," Benrey says, voice taking on a slightly higher pitch as he grows weirdly defensive. "I mean, like, not really. Just got shit to say before we get there."

"Okay," Gordon cautiously says, bemused.

"It's about Tommy."

The tension starts to flood out of Gordon at the mention of their friend, reassured that this isn't actually anything extreme or dangerous like Gordon initially thought.

And then the tension comes right back, but in a different flavor this time. "What about him?" Gordon asks, putting his hands in his lap so he doesn't end up gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. Some combination of emotions is churning his stomach and he doesn't even want to begin to pick them apart.

"You said… but like," Benrey pauses, seeming frustrated for a moment before continuing. "Can I still hug and kiss Tommy and stuff. Or is that illegal? Will I get arrested and gay baby jailed?"

"You won't get arrested," Gordon says, because that's the first thing that comes to his mind and if he doesn't saying something now, he'll lose all momentum. As it is, he has no idea what he wants to say.

Does seeing the two of them together kinda drive him nuts? Yes. But there's also something about the way Tommy smiles when he's around Benrey that Gordon doesn't want to interfere with. He doesn't want to be the one that puts a stop to the affectionate nature of their friendship just because he's insecure. Though most men would be pretty upset about their boyfriend getting so cuddly with another man, but none of them are "most men", are they? Benrey especially hasn't had a particularly normal upbringing, from what Gordon's gathered.

What's the harm? Besides Benrey leaving you for a much better alternative, a bitter voice in Gordon's mind says. What do they call it, trading up? He just hasn't realized how much better he'd be with Tommy yet.

This has been really good, this thing they have going, but nothing good ever lasts very long. Benrey will run off to Tommy and Gordon will sleep alone, shower alone, eat meals alone, and never see anyone outside visitation with his son and the weekly get-togethers with the Science Team. It'll happen. Just as he'll have to get another job before his money runs out—and it will, college isn't getting any cheaper and he wants to be sure Joshua gets a good education, that he won't deal with as much hardship as his daddy did.

"Hey," he hears. Gordon blinks, coming back down to the present. Looking over at Benrey, he finds them sitting cross-legged with their attention fully on him. "You wanna, use those big sexy words goin' on in your brain there friend. Pretty loud but I don't uh, speak that language…"

Gordon's lips part, but no sound comes out as he fumbles for the right words to say. "It's… fine," is what he eventually settles on, gaining confidence now that he's broken the seal of silence. He stares down at the steering wheel. "Yeah, I mean, whatever. I don't have a problem with it. You can do whatever you want."

Tommy doesn't even like Benrey like that—he's got a crush on someone else. Why's Gordon getting so freaked out thinking they're going to run away together? It can't even happen.

"Just, you know, don't go buckwild," Gordon continues. "People are watching, remember? And I'm—" He cuts himself off, heat rising to his face. His lips work silently, doing his best to wet his suddenly dry mouth. "—I'm right—like—I'm your boyfriend so—you should be, I mean I know you see me every day but—"

"Aww," Benrey coos, overwhelming Gordon with the urge to throw himself into oncoming traffic. The heat in his face is making him a bit dizzy—or maybe that's the adrenaline. He's getting too worked up over this. He turns away, facing the street outside.

"Shut up, I'm trying to say—like I'm being serious, okay? It sucks when we go to these things and you just throw yourself all over Tommy like I don't even exist. I know you're just friends and I also know you're just, a huggy guy, and that's okay. And maybe it's my fault for putting this dumb poly idea in your head because I'm stupid and insecure but knowing you're, even remotely interested in him is putting me a little on edge, okay, I've never shared anyone before and maybe I'm just a little worried—"

Spotting movement in his periphery, he trails off, whipping around right as Benrey gets up to climb into his lap, straddling his thighs. They put their hands on either side of his face, tipping his head back.

"You're so hot but your head is fulla worms, bro," they say. "Like, look, I'm like, I'm a parasite and I'm in your guts swimmin' around, makin' my home in Gordon Freeman, gonna need surgery but I'll have laid my eggs in your brain by then—"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Gordon blurts, frowning up at them. "Why are you comparing yourself to a tapeworm? You're not a parasite."

"Wasn't the point, dummy. Dummy Thiccman. God I was being so clever for a second there, not even listening. Sticking to you, like, all the glue at the horse factory. Never get that out. It's like that meme, don't forget, but like, I'm here forever."

"Huh? Wh—Can you take this seriously? I'm pouring my heart out over here and you're talking about memes and glue—"

Benrey rolls their eyes before crashing their lips against his, catching him completely off guard; their hands tug him closer by the nape, a slow breath escaping through his nose as body gradually relaxes. He picks his hands up from where they've been resting along Benrey's thighs to hold them around the small of their back, inevitably finding and tangling his fingers into their long ebony hair.

As they part, Benrey pulls back enough to blow air directly into Gordon's face, forcing his eyes closed. "Trying to tell you I love you, idiot," they say, their casual tone from earlier replaced with something hard, something that has Gordon keeping his mouth shut. "You'll be bones, deep underground and I'm going to stick to you like a bunch of spores, do you get it? I'm in your bone marrow, bro, I'm in you and you're never washing me out. Good fucking luck cuz, I'm here to stay. Ya need another metaphor or are we good?"

"Whuh… no… yeah," Gordon says lamely, faltering. He got desensitized to those words a long time ago, yet hearing them from Benrey's mouth has him feeling unbearably warm, even worse the longer they kept talking, their words simultaneously disturbing and comforting. "I get it. But. I mean, you can't know—"

Benrey taps his finger against Gordon's temple, the pressure bordering on too hard. "I'm telling you, bro. All this dumb shit in your head, should shrink down and suck it all up with—big straw. Gone. Replace it with, uh… recording. 'M in your head, saying nice shit. Mental illness… poof. Oops all Benrys."

Despite everything, Gordon laughs. Though it's just a little amused puff of air, it's still something. He pulls Benrey closer, laying his head against their shoulder, and they immediately take to running their hands through his hair, kissing the side of his head before cradling it in their arms. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it," Benrey shoots back. "Been bathing in my nonsense, day one."

"I…" Gordon trails off, sighing and tightening his hold on them. He starts playing with their hair to keep himself calm, braiding random strands. A lot of things pass through his mind—I really like you, I'm scared to lose you—but he can't bring himself to say any of it. It's just, too intense. "It's… it really is fine if you want to do that kind of stuff with Tommy. I mean, I trust Tommy. Just, you know…"

"Goin' home with you," Benrey reminds him. "You 'n me, you know? Gordon and Benrey, two of a kind, pea pods. It's poetic cinema."

"Yeah… yeah," Gordon says, building confidence, or at least forcing it in hopes he'll feel better about this as a result. "You're right. I'm all freaked out about nothing."

Benrey kisses the top of his head. "There we go. Fuckin' EPIC, bro. Now you wanna go to a party and eat cookies or what. Bubsy 3D blowin' up your phone, probably."

The Boomer residence is exactly as it always is—and everyone else is already in attendance, judging by the amount of cars in the driveway. Gordon parks along the street, helping Benrey carry their bags to the door. It takes him a moment to realize why Benrey's standing behind him like a shy child. The last time they did this, Benrey got clocked at the front door.

Just like last time, Dr. Coomer answers the door with a crushing hug prepared for Gordon, who has to bend to reach the much shorter man. "Hello, Gordon!" the man greets, as someone in the background who sounds an awful lot like Bubby exclaims, "It's about fucking time!"

"Hey, Dr. Coomer," Gordon says, pulling back to continue blocking Benrey from view, but to no avail. Faster than he can properly react, Dr. Coomer sidesteps him to approach Benrey—and wrap the alien up in a crushing hug the likes of which has them letting out a squeaky meowing sound. Despite being taller than him, they end up getting lifted off the ground and spun from side to side before they're set back on the ground looking like a drenched cat with a disgruntled frown to match.

"Good to see you again, General Bepis!" Dr. Coomer cheerily exclaims, quickly spotting the bags in Benrey's hands. "Are those for me?"

"Uh," Benrey stammers, looking to Gordon for guidance.

"They are," Gordon answers for them, smiling pleasantly down at the other man. "Can we come in?"

"Of course, Gor—Hello, Gordon!"

Heading inside to set the bags down on the dining table, Gordon's surprised to find Tommy at the table with Darnold. It's been months since he showed up to one of these things. As the bags are sat down, Gordon says, "Darnold, good to see you, man. I'm surprised Tommy actually convinced you to show up."

"Yes, well I was promised there would be no fire starting implements this time around," Darnold says.

"My dear Bubby is a fire starting implement!" Dr. Coomer proudly exclaims, as Darnold makes a face.

"Ohhhh… no…"

"Hey, no campfires in the living room, okay?" Gordon interjects. "Can we just eat sweets and be merry or whatever? Here," he picks up the green box inside one of the bags, eyes catching on Benrey sliding into the seat next to Tommy and nearly yanking the man out of his chair to pull him into a tight hug. Gordon shakes himself, handing the box off to Dr. Coomer. "This one's for you. Benrey did most of the painting so it doesn't look that bad."

"Why, it's beautiful," Dr. Coomer declares. Gordon glances back to see Benrey look up for a moment, lips parted and eyes a bit round, before quickly looking away.

"Pog. Thanks you're welcome," Benrey bashfully mumbles, tucking their head into Tommy's shoulder. Gordon can't help but smile, continuing on; cyan for Bubby, who seems pretty impatient—probably what the insistent texts were all about—and a color which Benrey insists is called "burnt umber", which is somehow different from the color orange, full of apricot cookies for Darnold. Benrey deftly snatches up the yellow one before Gordon can get to it and sets it in Tommy's lap.

"Oh, wow, it's so pretty!" Tommy softly exclaims. He runs his hands over the various parts of the box, observing each color with what Gordon would guess is a critical eye. Whatever he finds has him smiling warmly down at the container. "Benry, that's, that's so sweet," he says, the smile audible in his voice.

Benrey places their hands on Tommy's shoulder, propping their chin up on them. "Yeah, that's, that's me. I'm nice now. My character development."

Tommy turns and kisses them on the cheek—just to hastily pull away, eyes darting out to find Gordon as if silently asking if what he just did was okay. The way Benrey hides a grin behind his folded hands inspires such a warm feeling in Gordon's chest tells him that he doesn't care, so long as Benrey's happy. It seems like this message gets conveyed to Tommy based on the way he starts to relax afterwards.

The cookies themselves also go over very well, including the smaller batch they made mostly out of leftover ingredients for Sunkist, which both Google and several texts back and forth with Tommy have proven are perfectly safe for the pup. Benrey and Tommy get into a game of piling Sunkist's cookies on top of his nose to see how high they can balance them, while the dog's tail wags excitedly.

"Alright," Bubby starts once all the treats have been handed out and sufficiently sampled. "Explain this to me. Instead of trying to kill each other, you're making heart shaped cookies together?"

"Uh," Gordon starts, a little embarrassed by said heart shaped cookies when brought up in such a context.

"Enemies to lovers," Benrey declares, "100k, slow burn, roommates, don't like don't r—"

"We're dating," Gordon chokes out. "Okay. Whatever you have to say just get it out already."

"Fuckin' knew it," Bubby says, slamming their hand down on the coffee table from where they're sitting. "PAY UP HAROLD."

"Huh…?" Gordon looks back and forth between the old married couple as a small dollar amount is passed from one to the other.

"Oh, dear, it looks like you were right about this one, professor!"

"Doctor, of course I was. Could cut this tension with a knife."

"Are you serious?" Gordon exclaims, mortified. "You're betting on me???"

"I, also," Darnold starts, setting the same dollar amount down in a tray on a table behind him so he doesn't have to get up. "To be fair, I thought," he gestures towards Benrey and Tommy more or less cuddling right next to him. Tommy makes a very awkward noise resembling a laugh, while Benrey's lips part like he wants to make a joke, but can't find the right words to use.

"Yeah, that's," Gordon says, trailing off awkwardly before looking back at everyone else in turn. "Uh, hey can we not bet on our friends' love lives? Thanks."

Despite that, the Boomers immediately lean towards each other, whispering conspiratorially, and Gordon decides with a sigh that he doesn't want to know what they're betting on now.

Drinks are served to compliment the cookies, and everyone gathers in the backyard outside to enjoy the warm weather while it's still around. Benrey glances from chair to chair, counting five before mumbling to themself, "So it does exist." Benrey ends up in Gordon's lap this time, though he sits more on the armrest, purposely trying not to "do a PDA". Gordon worries about the stability of the plastic armrest before remembering all the times Benrey's laid directly on him, barely weighing much more than fifteen pounds at best, and he relaxes.

The Boomers tell them about their continued quest to combat the HoA—apparently successful, though they're vague about what techniques they used to accomplish this and instead talk about their debate over whether they should just dismantle it, or start enforcing bullshit rules like flamingos in everyone's yards at risk of a $100 fine. Benrey starts giving even worse suggestions that the couple seems to like way too much.

Tommy and Darnold claim to have invented a "truth serum", though it apparently doesn't work on humans. Yet. Gordon has no fucking clue what that means but decides not to question it, lest his brain start to hurt.

"Yeah I been like," Benrey starts, smacking his lips and adopting an accent somewhere between "valley girl" and "gay lisp". "Kisssssing and cuddling and being kissed. Unparalleled."

"That's wonderful, Agent Bopit!" Dr. Coomer cheerily exclaims. "Ah, isn't young love beautiful?"

"Are they gonna be this obnoxious every time we see them or what," Bubby grumbles. Their comment has Benrey dialing it up to eleven, going on and on like a lovey-dovey teenage girl writing about his crush in his diary. A lot of it isn't even remotely true and is blatantly designed to make Bubby react in disgust, though Dr. Coomer acts like he believes it, commenting on how wonderful and romantic it all is.

As usual, Gordon can't help but note that he has nothing particularly interesting to say—they're not gossiping housewives or a gaggle of teenage boys or anything, he can't sit around talking about the little antics he gets up to with his boyfriend. Though that's what Benrey does anyway, even if it's just to brag about the fact he gets kissed on the mouth a lot, so Gordon is left with even less to say.

Doesn't feel right to be updating them on the inner workings of his relationship anyway—that's between them. Maybe Benrey understands that, and that's why he's keeping so much of the truth to himself.

It doesn't matter so much, anyway. They still have fun. After the sun starts to set, they head back inside where Gordon offers to help Dr. Coomer cook so they can keep Bubby out of the kitchen. The lot of them aren't terribly picky and could easily order a few pizzas, but Gordon enjoys getting to serve his friends a good homecooked meal every now and then. Since his apartment can't fit much more than three people, he doesn't get this opportunity often.

While the food is in the oven, Gordon goes out to sit at the table with Darnold, chatting about nothing of consequence. Getting to talk to the other man keeps him sane—he's not exactly normal by most people's standards, but he's not an alien or a cyborg or a labgrown clone that can set things on fire with their mind, nor has he ever committed any atrocities. So, pretty fucking normal in comparison.

Every now and then, Gordon glances over towards the living room—Tommy and Benrey are hanging out with Sunkist on the couch. Their conversation carries a little, and Gordon can pick out bits and pieces of Benrey telling Tommy about all the fish at the aquarium. Cuddled up on a loveseat nearby, the Boomers are having an energetic debate of some sort. There's a pleasant amount of noise, nothing deafening. Companionable.

But Gordon keeps getting distracted. Something doesn't feel right, and it's as he looks around at the seating arrangements again that he figures it out. They're all sitting in pairs, but it's a bit mixed up, and with the Boomers sat next to each other, it feels a bit less like a fun mixup of established dynamics and more like… Gordon glances back to Darnold, doing his best not to get sidetracked from their conversation, but. Isn't this backwards?

Isn't this exactly what he was afraid of…?

Gordon tries to shake that thought away. How insecure can you be? Your boyfriend doesn't have to be stuck to you like some flesh-eating parasite. You have friends and so can Benrey. Even if… his friend is one that kisses his face and holds his hand and… He catches Benrey looking at him and quickly averts his gaze, feeling stupid.

A hand brushes his shoulder and he jolts slightly, turning his head to find Benrey sidling up to him. They lean in towards his ear just to say, at a totally normal volume, "Hey, do you wanna go outside with us?"

"Us?" Gordon repeats, looking past them to where Tommy's leading Sunkist outside.

"Yeah gonna watch the sun go to sleep, pretty colors and shit, doggy pillow."

Gordon turns to look up at them. Their expression could be considered blank, but there's something about the way they're looking in a direction completely opposite him, eyes not quite as droopy as usual. What that means, Gordon isn't sure, but still he says, "Yeah, sure," before telling Darnold they should pick up their talk later. The other man looks between them, making a curious expression, but agreeing easily and getting up to join the Boomers instead.

Benrey leads him outside by the hand, where Tommy's laying in the grass with his back against Sunkist's massive body. Though Gordon isn't sure there's actually room for three of them to crowd around the pup like that, but Benrey seeks to prove him wrong, apparently, pulling him over to sit in the grass with them. Turns out space isn't as big of an issue as Gordon thought—Benrey crams himself into the middle where he's pressed up against both Tommy and Gordon from shoulder to thigh, leaving plenty of Sunkist to rest their heads on.

"Hi, Mr. Freeman," Tommy greets. "Did you, come to look at the sunset too?"

"Huh? Yeah," Gordon responds, watching as Benrey laces his fingers with Tommy's with a pang of anxiety in his gut before he feels their slender, cool fingers wrapping around his as well, their head leaned against his shoulder. Warmth blossoms across his face, and as he looks over the three of them he feels something fluttery start to grow inside him. Benrey just looks so content, purring loudly against Gordon's shoulder.

"So, do you, do this a lot?" Gordon awkwardly asks, trying to distract himself as he looks up at the sky. There's something so idyllic about the view that he hasn't seen since he lived back at home. It's just not the same when viewed from an apartment window.

"I try, to, um, watch it every day," Tommy answers in a soft voice. "It's, important to focus on, um, to, not just let life pass you by, and appreciate the, the mundane things."

Gordon blinks at him, surprised. "Wow. I wasn't expecting wisdom like that—" from you. Okay, so, that right there, thoughts like that is why Tommy doesn't respect him. He's starting to see it now. "That's good advice, though."

Tommy rubs his thumb across the back of Benrey's hand, sinking down a little so is head and neck are better supported by his dog. "My therapist told me that," he reports. Benrey looks up at him, blinking like he's just woken up from a nap—while Gordon looks away, watching the wind blow through the trees nearby, the sky a gentle pink in the horizon.

"That's nice, Tommy," Gordon says.

Together, they continue watching the sunset in the distance. Gordon feels like he should fill the silence, but given that neither Tommy nor Benrey speak a single word, barely even looking way from the sky, he realizes he'd be interrupting their established peace. Maybe he should follow Tommy's advice. If it's really as therapeutic as he says, it would benefit him to try and see what they see.

Keeping his mind vacant is a challenge. It's like every thought is demanding his attention at once and he's worried about being too uptight, ruining the vibe the other two have got going on. Feels like everything makes him freak out these days.

After awhile, he finds something to focus on, namely the trees blowing in the breeze and the occasional movement from the other two beside him. Benrey rubbing his thumb against Gordon's hand, the brush of his cheek against Gordon's shoulder. Tommy shuffling his long legs around. Sunkist's tail lifting and dropping. The distant, muffled sounds of activity from inside the house. Latching onto those things, Gordon finds it easier to turn his brain off.

Eventually the sky grows dark, and they're called back inside for dinner. As they gather around the table, the energy slowly resumes with bickering, play fighting, and the occasional mild prank, voices raised and lovingly insulting names getting thrown around.

At some point, Gordon realizes—despite having done this almost every weekend for the last few months, it hasn't truly felt complete until now. He looks to Benrey, seated between Gordon and Tommy, with a fond smile, watching them blandly threatening to launch some veggies at Bubby with their spoon while feigning ignorance.

"I'm not doing anything," Benrey drones.

"Your spoon does appear to be in the Attack position, officer," Dr. Coomer cheerfully points out.

"Do it," Bubby taunts. "I'd LOVE IT if you did, you absolute fucking, creature."

"Bro what I'm just a lil' guy, why would you say that," Benrey drawls, aiming their spoon to catapult a piece of cauliflower right at Bubby's face. "That's so mean I thought we was friends."

Gordon feels he should really do something about this before it escalates to gun violence or arson, but he's too busy holding back laughter to do so. Tommy does it instead, begging everyone not to ruin the meal by creating a mess. Benrey is reigned in the instant Tommy opens his mouth, remaining that way even after Gordon makes a whip cracking sound to tease them with, receiving nothing but a childish raspberry in return.

When the meal is over, they all start making a move to leave. Despite the advanced hour, Tommy and Darnold state work-related responsibilities, and Gordon notes that he has to be up and out early in the morning to pick up Joshua. Dr. Coomer gives them both a tight hug, tighter than usual for Gordon as he's about to step out into the beginning stages of night.

Once they're through the door, Gordon clicks on a flashlight attached to his keyring. It draws Benrey's eye, catching Gordon's gaze before looking away as if to pretend that hadn't noticed.

On the way back, Gordon makes idle conversation while Benrey mostly just listens. Their silence always unnerves him in these situations but he tries not to make a big deal out of it, picking up the bulk of the conversation just to fill the silence, make the situation feel more alive. Make him feel less alone, talking to another person—sort of.

The drive isn't far, and they're home before they know it. Benrey waits by the back of the car to hold Gordon's hand on the walk back inside, their eyes softly glowing in the darkness as they lead him back to their front door. They step in first, and he quickly closes the door behind him, paranoid of threats from all angles. But there's nothing to be found, and Benrey gives him a soft smile and some yellow to purple sweet voice trailing behind them.

Together, they undress out of some of their outer layers, getting more comfortable before plopping down on the couch for some netflix and chill-but-actually-just-chilling. Benrey sits sideways across Gordon's lap, their back to the armrest.

About an hour passes in silence before Benrey speaks up. "Hey. Uncomfortable question, and I don't know how to say this but," they start, and Gordon feels his hackls rising already. Please be uncomfortably awkward and not uncomfortably serious—"Why aren't you in therapy?"

The question takes Gordon completely by surprise, blinking owlishly down at them for a moment as he tries to gather his thoughts instead of just blurting What? like they always do.

"I don't need therapy," he eventually responds. A defensive ire shoots through him when Benrey's response is to laugh.

"Yeah and the sky is green and I fucked the Queen of England—"

"That's not how that expression goes—"

"Bro you got SO many problems. Your brain needs a defrag, that's what therapy is for, right? Tech support for your human brain?" Gordon doesn't respond, lips working silently as a scowl pulls at his brows. His hands tense around the fabric of Benrey's hoodie. Two slender fingers prod at the center of his brow and one of those hands pull back to swat Benrey away. "Come onnnn you love words, you're crazy about 'em. Share your words with an old white lady in glasses, she's got a PhD in Theoretical Brain Physics."

"How do you know what therapy is like?" Gordon shoots back. "Have you ever even been to a therapist's office?"

This question gives Benrey pause. "They wouldn't let me talk to…" they start, before trailing off and abruptly changing the subject. "Not talky about me! Bro, come on. I just want you to be okay. Not trying to piss you off or whatever."

Their words have him feeling guilty, a retort dying in his throat. Placing his hand over his eyes, he takes a deep breath before responding. "Sorry. I just, I don't want to—I mean what do I even say? They'll think I'm completely insane and put me on fucking—crazy pills again."

"Kinda rude, callin' it that," Benrey interjects.

"Yeah. No, you're right," Gordon concedes, even if he's a little annoyed to have to do it. "I just—I'm sick of all that shit. Therapy's not magic, anyway, not even guaranteed to work. I'll be fine, I just need time."

The blank stare Benrey aims his way feels somehow judgemental and accusing, yet Gordon holds back from blowing up at them over shit they haven't said or even implied. They're just looking. And after awhile, they cup the side of his face, kissing his cheek before pulling back.

"Tea?" they ask, already in the process of getting up to leave the room. There's this desire to pull them back, to keep arguing about this, he isn't satisfied leaving it like this. But there's no point in that and the tea will right his brain anyway.

"Yeah. Tea it is."