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He doesn't know how long he's been here for. Time ceased to exist after Bill evaporated the Time Baby and got his grabby little hands on its powers, relishing in his newfound source of entertainment, mixing it in, shaking up like a cocktail with his not-so-new one, being himself.
He's been kept in this room for an hour, for two weeks, for forty years - he doesn't know. Suspended by the buzzing blue chains, his arms straightened behind his back from strain, shoulder blades twisted out, his body forced into a half-bow on his knees.
Just as he is about to start counting the tongues on that damn skin-couch again (last time he counted 4, before that - 7) is when he feels it. A surge of static in the air, a prickly sensation that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up, fills out the space of the room with a promise, a warning, and he braces for impact before he hears a quiet whoosh behind himself. He's here.
Ford expects to hear that annoying high-pitched thrill of a voice ask him, "Had enough yet, Sixer? What about giving me that equation, hm?" or something of the sort. But nothing follows and he cranks his eyes open, awkwardly turning his head to the side to look at Bill.
The first thing he thinks-
Something's wrong. Something's fucking wrong. Bill is buzzing, not just his usual buzz, no, he full-on vibrates, so much that Ford can feel it reverberate off his back, shaking the air around Cipher's form, beating protons out of atoms.
Bill's eye is distant, like he's not all there, but that is not what catches Ford's attention, because... Bill's pupil is round. So fucking round it occupies most of his eye, so blown it pushes out all of the white sclera, instead switching it for a booming black abyss. It zeroes in on his face and Ford's heart sinks straight to his stomach, plopping down a hard lump, taking all of his breath with it. Something's wrong.
"Heyyyyyy, Fordsy," Bill straight up purrs out, vibrating with each word, voice sweet and sticky, pouring into his ears in maple syrup, and floats closer, Ford flinching. "How is my favorite human doinggg?"
He would say "Fuck you, Bill." or "Go to Hell." or "I hate you." or any combination of the three be it any other circumstance, like he has countless times before. But his eyes don't leave the rhythmically beaming buzzing shape circling him, his rapidly accelerating heartbeat pounding loudly against his eardrums, and he does not dare test it this time, instead managing out, voice hoarse, "I'm fine, thank you."
"I am so happy to hear that!" Bill squints at him and stops before his face, extending his hand to ruffle his hair.
His mind is racing, neurons sparking, as he retwists whatever scarce knowledge he's acquired about Bill's species throughout the years, less from the portal-building times and more from the cold multiverse. The Oracle shared some general facts with him from what was left on the time plane after the Euclidean Massacre, but not much, since most had been switched for static. And one of them he remembers vividly as if it has been said to him a minute ago. Euclideans go through mating cycles.
Ford swallows thickly and Bill tears his sweater off him with the claws he's sprouted from his fingertips.
Oh, God.
He wants to mate.
"Aren't you hot, Fordsy? Isn't this betterrr?" Bill purrs out and gets very comfortable coping a feel of his naked torso, squishing his pecs with his hands, his lust-devoured eye roaming hungrily over his body.
"Bill- let's- let's not be so haste now. W-why don't you go regain your.. composure and then we can continue our conversation, okay?" Ford tries to call out to Cipher, squirming out of the ten small hands sliding over his chest, his sides, ruffling his hair and creeping closer to his groin. Bill ignores him completely, and he feels quiet dread.
He isn't actually going to do it, but he needs Bill's mind to latch onto something other than unbuckling his belt and groping his ass, and so he throws his last ace at him, "I will give you the equation!"
Bill stills for a second and he can see the flash of awareness in his blown out pupil, which almost gives him hope, but then Cipher makes eye contact with him and exclaims, "Who needs that dumb equation!" and any remnants of hope shatter into a million pieces inside him. "Give me that cock instead!" and his pants get shredded off his body with his underwear.
His hard dick jumps up in the air free from the confinement of layers of clothes - no matter the situation, it has been very interested in all the manipulations performed with his body until now - and Bill licks his eye with his blue tongue, staring at his member in a way he can only describe as starved.
Suddenly he is yanked to the ground by the shackles on his wrists and lands on his back against the cool polished floorboards and coarse carpet threads. He would be grateful for the change of position, for his poor shoulder joints finally getting a break, if not for the fact that he is butt ass naked and Bill is sizing up his cock right now.
As he is looking at Bill up now, he sees it. A small horizontal slit on his lower side, pulsating slightly and secreting blue slick that is dripping down to the floor in sticky streaks. Ford's brows fly up in surprise, he has never noticed any reproductive organs on his shape; he has almost expected Cipher to do that thing he does with his multi-purpose eye, but now he feels a spark of scientific curiosity flare up inside him. It is definitely his intellectual high-IQ brain speaking, and not his throbbing cock, he tells himself when Bill hovers closer and stills just an inch over his hard length and he wonders what he feels like inside.
By the expression Cipher is sporting on his shape, he can tell he would be panting if he had the need for breathing. Bill taps his cock with his finger, making Ford suck in a sharp inhale through gritted teeth, and then looks him dead in the eyes and sinks down, shrieking and his pupil rolling back inside him, "SIXER!"
Ford throws his head back, groaning at the tight hole wrapping around his length, enveloping it in soaking wetness that is leaking out and sliding down to his lower abdomen and balls, making his body hair stick. It is so hot, and, oh, God, Bill is still buzzing. It takes all of his self-restraint to not bust right then and there with Bill making himself comfortable on his cock, taking the full length in one go, moaning and beaming a bright pink.
His arms are pinned down to the floor by the chains and he can only throw his head to the side when Bill starts moving up and down, lewd squelching sounds accompanying every time his dick disappears inside the tight hole. The fast pace is almost too much for his much-too-sensitive member, Bill's slick insides are swallowing it whole, greedily craving for his cock, and when Bill raises himself up from it, he doesn't go past the curve of his cock head, like he cannot be without it filling him up even for a second.
The front of Cipher's shape is straining with each thrust, his dick is making Bill almost three-dimensional every time he impales himself on it, pushing apart his brickwork, and Ford cannot look away, his gaze soaking in the sight thirsty, throwing his hips up in the air to meet him halfway and push his surfaces apart.
Whatever it is Bill's biology is demanding of him, his cock seems to be doing the job just fine, as Cipher's eye rolls back inside him with each thrust and he moans loudly and shamelessly, vibrating and sinking down to the base.
Ford is not able to stop the groans from leaving his lips and he feels an especially embarrassing one bubbling in his throat before he whimpers, "Bill-" and wants to keep his trap shut forever after that, his face coloring an even darker shade of red.
Bill's eye rolls back out him as he seems to remember that there is a whole person attached to the cock he's riding and the glint in his round pupil is absolutely crazed. Ford has never seen him like this, so fucking hungry for his dick, so feral it beats the times Cipher was tormenting him about the portal by a mile.
Bill is beaming pink, buzzing in tact with thrusts, and is looking at him almost desperate when he blabbers, "Sixer, Six-ER, you'll give me- AH- your shapelings, right? Tell m- mE you will-! Say you'll breed- HAH- me and give me an obtu-Use angle!"
Ford chokes on air at that, wide-eyed, but manages out, "Yes- hn- yes, I will. I will breed- OH- you and give you my- ngh- shapelings, Bill."
Cipher moans, seeming satisfied.
The tight hole is leaking juices all over his crotch, the sticky blue goo is covering him and seeping into the carpet he is half-laying on. Bill is getting more forceful with his thrusts, more rough, flying up and down fast, fucking himself on his throbbing cock like his life depends on it. He has sprouted sharp claws from his fingers again and Ford momentarily warily wonders if his species display aggression during their mating cycles, as it seems to be the case here.
Bill suddenly jerks and beams an even brighter shade of pink, shrieking as out his hole sputters blue liquid, falling onto Ford's stomach in slick streaks as he moans, "AH- Ah, Sixer, ah- -" and after a momentum of gathering himself, continues riding his length, vibrating harder, and Ford feels himself following up not long after.
He prays that humans and Euclideans aren't compatible in terms of reproduction.
"Oh, fuck- Bill, I'm going to-" he groans and bucks his hips towards Bill.
"AH- YES! Yesyesyesyesyes, BREED me, Sixer! Breed me! Put your shapelings in me!" Bill screams and drops himself down on his cock, his tight pulsating hole milking it, and Ford moans breathlessly as he finishes deep inside, pumping Cipher full of his seed, as the latter is giggling in pure happiness.
Bill stays sitting until every last drop of sperm leaves his dick, to not waste anything, to be bred, and then floats up, Ford's softening length leaving his hole with a pop, completely covered in blue goo. Ford doesn't see any white leaking out of his hole, and doesn't know if he should be scared.
Bill hovers over to his face and he expects a kiss, a hand in his hair, anything other than him closing his eye and opening a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth in its place. His stomach drops and he doesn't even have the time to scream before all he sees is black as his head disappears inside Bill's mouth cavity and through him darts sharp all-enveloping pain as he hears a sickening crunch when the teeth connect through his neck, severing the spinal cord, and then all grows numb.
Ford blinks and he is laying on his back, looking up at Bill and his secreting blue slick slit as Cipher lowers the hand he's just used to snap his fingers and beams at him, his blown out pupil shaking, "Intersection two!"
Oh, that's right. Euclideans mate for three days straight.