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Gordon sighed as he fumbled with his keys for a moment, before finally fetching them out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He pushed the door open and stepped into the apartment room.
"I'm home!" He called out, not bothering to take his shoes or jacket off before stepping into the open kitchen to grab a snack. He hadn't eaten since he first left for work, and even then, it was half a plate of eggs that he rushed to eat since he was late. He'd make proper dinner later. Or order takeout.
After finishing his snack and downing a cup of water, he headed towards the guest bedroom—which is basically Benrey's bedroom at this point. He was only supposed to stay temporarily, but it seemed like at this rate, he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.
He rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. "You in there, Benrey?" He called out, not really expecting a response. He tried to convince himself he doesn't even really care how Benrey's actually doing, he just needed to make sure he's not dying or hasn't commit a crime of some sort.
He heard a groan from the other side of the door and immediately felt an unfamiliar pang of concern in his chest. He furrowed his brows, knocking again, softer this time. "Benrey?" He asked. Benrey just groaned again. He sighed heavily. "I'm comin' in, okay?"
With that, he slowly turned the knob and opened the door, peering into the pitch dark room. He squinted his eyes, trying to catch sight of Benrey through the darkness. He flicked on the light, immediately spotting a messy mop of black hair peeking out from beneath the blankets.
"Hey. What's going on with you, dude? Are you good?" He inquired, crossing his arms as he made his way to the side of the bed. Despite his usual moodiness, Benrey's never really acted like this before.
"no. not good. never been worse." They grumbled, their voice muffled beneath the blanket. "i think 'm dyin'. 'boutta be gone forever."
"Wait– What?" Gordon stammered, eyes wide with confusion. "You're– Huh? How would you even-" He cut himself off, blinking rapidly as he took in Benrey's words.
"feel like shit. like, mega shit. my nose is all runny and gross, an' my tum tum's been on fire all day. an' my head's killin' me. s'posed to be better than this." They mumbled into the pillow, still hidden from Gordon's view. "gotta be dyin'. no other explanation."
Gordon blinked, slower this time, before sighing heavily as the tension in his body slowly released. "Benrey. You idiot." He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. He looked down at the lump of a figure in the blanket with a frown. With a huff, he reached out to pull the blankets down, and Benrey shuddered as he glared up at Gordon.
"yo, what the fuck?-" They started to complain, but immediately shut up when the back of Gordon's hand made contact with their forehead. They froze almost instantly, their eyes widening.
"Jesus, you're burning up, man. Why didn't you say something before I left?" He said, wiping some sweaty strands of hair from their pale face, his hand lingering longer than necessary. Only then did he notice Benrey was completely frozen.
With a jolt, he pulled away, his cheeks flushed. "Uh... sorry." He mumbled quietly, clearing his throat before changing the topic. "You're not dying, you're just sick. Have you not been sick before?"
"uh. no." He uttered, his eyes flickering to the floor. "aliens don't really get sick. not like stupid nerdy little humans." He shrugged, anxiously fidgeting with a loose string on his hoodie.
"Well, luckily for you, you're a stupid nerdy little human now. You can get sick." Gordon replied, rolling his eyes. "Look- it's alright. You'll be feeling better in less than a week." He promised, instinctively moving to reach out to ruffle Benrey's hair before catching himself and slowly pulling away.
"I'll, uh, go make you some soup or something. That should help." He said as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to really grasp the situation. Benrey was sick. Benrey. The same Benrey that came from a weird fucked up alien dimension. The same Benrey that was, somehow, presumably some sort of God of said fucked up alien dimension.
Benrey finally pried his face off of the pillow, staring up at Gordon with unimpressed, yet also exhausted, lidded red eyes. He looked absolutely miserable—his eyes sunken, his cheeks flushed bright red, and his face drenched in sweat.
Yeah. Definitely sick.
They opened their mouth to retort, but were cut off by a harsh sneeze that shut down any bullshit they were about to spew. They just sniffled loudly and huddled back into the blanket. Gordon winced sympathetically.
"Sheesh." He mumbled. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere." He turned, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses as he stepped out of the room. He frowned as he heard Benrey's coughing fit from across the apartment.
As he got started on the soup, he let his mind wander. Why the hell was he the one who Benrey ended up with? He was the one who hated them the most during their time at Black Mesa. He supposed it made sense, though. Tommy was actually his friend, but his dad wasn't exactly a fan of Benrey staying with his son. And Bubby and Dr. Coomer didn't exactly get along that well with Benrey. Sure, they didn't hate each other, but Bubby would rather die than let them live with him and Dr. Coomer.
So that left Gordon, who, obviously, hated the idea of Benrey living with him. But they had nowhere else to go, and he'd honestly feel awful if he knew Benrey was out there without a home. Even though they tried to kill him and his friends.
His hand instinctively went to his right arm, right where his prosthetic met his skin. He rubbed slow circles into his skin, lost in thought.
He still had nightmares about that day. He can't count how many times he'd woke up to a panic attack because his mind decided to torment him with the worst day of his life. Losing his arm was something that would haunt him forever, he was sure. Yet somehow, he didn't really hate Benrey for it anymore. Sure, he was still mad about it, obviously he was. But he didn't really hold it against them anymore.
He didn't think he hated Benrey at all, now that he thought about it. If he did, he didn't hate them enough to let them stay in his house, at least. That's something. He's not sure how he felt about them, really. They're starting to get along, he's pretty sure. At least it was getting easier to respond to Benrey's insults with a joke instead of pure anger. And he didn't feel like punching them as much as he did during Black Mesa.
Maybe he'd even consider them a friend.
Gordon blinked, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He can't afford to get lost in his brain and end up burning the soup. He shook his head, getting back to making the food.
When he came back, bowl in hand, he saw that Benrey hadn't moved an inch. He was still lying half under the blanket, face shoved into the pillow, uncaring for any snot or sweat that got on it. Gordon cleared his throat, and he still didn't move.
"Here. I made you some Chicken Noodle Soup." He said, his voice softer than he intended. He set it on the nightstand, gently nudging Benrey's shoulder. "Need you to sit up, bud."
Benrey grumbled loudly, his breathing a little heavy as he weakly pushed himself up by his elbows. Gordon frowned, inching closer to help him sit up. He kept his hand on their shoulder for a moment, making sure they were upright and weren't about to fall, before letting go to grab the bowl again and hand it to them.
"Here. Be careful, it's still hot." He glanced away for a moment, frowning at how absolutely awful Benrey looked. Usually, he wouldn't care. He shouldn't care.
Benrey sighed loudly, seeming to understand that they aren't gonna get out of being taken care of. They slowly accepted the bowl, only now realizing their mouth was watering. They were much hungrier than they thought.
"so i'm not dyin'?" He stared at the soup. His brows were furrowed, and he seemed almost... scared. Gordon's expression softened sympathetically. "No, you're not dying. You're just sick. You'll be okay." He replied, offering a weak smile. Benrey glanced at him for a moment, before going back to staring into the bowl.
"bein' a human suh– sucks. i don't wanna have to worry 'bout eatin'... bullshit..." Despite their complaints, they dug in anyway. No matter how much they didn't want to eat, they knew Gordon wouldn't just let them starve.
"Tell me about it." Gordon sighed, running his hands through his messy curls. He really needed to brush his hair... but he'd rather not leave Benrey alone. "Do you need medicine or anything? I could get you some Ibuprofen. Or I could make you some tea."
"bruh. i'm good, relax." They mumbled between slurps. "you're good at this. you get sick alot or somethin'?" They asked, not taking their eyes off their soup. Gordon blinked, a little surprised by the sudden question.
"Uh, no. Not exactly." Gordon shrugged, glancing away. "Josh gets sick sorta often, so I've got.. a lot of practice, I guess." He said as he stared at the wall, his knee absently bouncing. Benrey's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable.
"oh. right. your lil' guy." They replied, not taking their eyes away from the bowl in front of them. "he gets sick alot? L. got the immune system of a victorian child. couldn't be me."
A soft sigh escaped Gordon's lips, but his expression didn't really change. "Mhm." He hummed, his prosthetic hand fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Benrey huffed, unsatisfied with Gordon's reaction, but he didn't push.
"where's the little guy at anyway? haven't seen 'im in a while." They asked uncertainly, tapping the side of the bowl. They didn't miss how Gordon seemed to deflate further at their question.
"He's at his mom's for the week. He'll be back in a few days." He shrugged, his hand trailing back to his arm to fidget with his prosthetic. Benrey didn't miss the motion, but didn't mention it.
"cowabummer." They shrugged, slurping up the last of the soup with a huff. They set the bowl aside, shuffling to lay back down. Gordon finally turned his head to meet their eyes again.
"Was it good?" He asked, his hand stilling on his arm as he looked Benrey up and down, taking in his expression and body language. He still seemed exhausted, but he seemed a little bit brighter.
"good enough. 's not awful." They mumbled, their eyes locked onto Gordon's. He nervously shifted, his prosthetic hand lightly tugging at his pant leg. He examined Benrey's expression, but all he saw was clear exhaustion. He sighed.
"You should get some rest. You're gonna be sleeping a lot for the next few days, so.. I'll leave you to that." He grabbed the empty bowl, standing up to start heading to the door.
"waittt. you're just gonna leave me? you're gonna let me suffer by myself? poor little benrey gotta be sick alone?" They whined, reaching out a hand in Gordon's direction. "stupid. stupid feetman. dumbdon lameman. you want me to die alone."
Gordon sighed, looking over his shoulder at Benrey. "That's not true." He replied, frowning as he saw them pout like a child. "Ben, I can't..."
"c'moooonnnn. loserr. 'm gonna die sad and–" He coughed into his arm. "and alone. all cuz you didn't wanna come cuddle with poor lil' ol' me." He continued to pout, making grabby hands at Gordon.
"God.." Gordon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before finally giving in. "Fine, but only for a little bit. I need to do the dishes." He replied, walking back over to the bed. Benrey pumped his fist, grinning widely. "win. win for benny."
Gordon set the bowl back on the nightstand. He'll wash that later. "What do you want me to-"
He cut himself off when Benrey shuffled back and lifted the blanket, patting the spot beside him. He blinked, staring for a long moment.
"i said i wanted to cuddle. were you not payin' attention? dumb feetman." Benrey just continued to grin. "better hurry. m' arm's gettin' tired."
Gordon hesitated for a moment, before heavily sighing and sliding into the bed next to Benrey. "I swear, if you get me sick-"
"i won't. prommy. i'm never contagious, bro."
"That doesn't- Okay." He huffed, settling in a little more. He froze when Benrey scooted closer to bury his face into Gordon's chest. He could feel the smirk on their face as they weakly grasped onto his shirt.
"Uh- okay... Gettin', uh... Gettin' pretty comfy there, huh?" He breathed out nervously, his mind scrambling to make a normal sentence. His face felt extremely hot now.
Benrey snickered quietly, shuffling even closer. "yup. got a problem with that? lil' lameman can't handle some cuddles between bros?"
Gordon couldn't bring himself to respond. He just sighed and hesitantly wrapped his arms back around Benrey, his hold loose and unsure. He eventually let himself relax, his chin lowering to rest on top of Benrey's head. He trailed random patterns on their back with his index finger, which soothed them more than he seemed to notice.
"mm." Benrey quietly hummed. "keep doin' that.." He mumbled, his eyelids beginning to become too heavy to stay open. He let them flutter shut, slightly nuzzling into Gordon's shirt. He loudly sniffled.
"Eugh..." Gordon grumbled, grossed out by Benrey's apparent sickness. "If you get snot on my shirt, I'll leave." It was a clear lie, they both knew that. Benrey just laughed.
"sure. rodger that." He replied lowly, his voice muffled by his shirt. Gordon huffed, staring at the wall to try and keep himself from thinking about anything that wasn't how natural it felt to have Benrey so close to him like this. The random painting on the wall has never looked so interesting before now.
After a while, Gordon heard a quiet snore from the person currently tucked into his chest. His cheeks flushed again, and he risked a glance down at Benrey's face. And damn it all, but they looked so peaceful, despite how awful they looked. Their lips were slightly parted, their chest faintly rising with every breath. Their hands curled and uncurled around the fabric of Gordon's shirt every few minutes.
His expression softened. He brushed the hair out of his face again, tucking it behind his ear. His hand trailed down to his cheek, his touch hesitant but gentle, like he was holding very fragile glass. He completely froze when Benrey lightly pushed into the touch, afraid he'd wake him up if he moved at all.
After about a minute, he slowly moved to slide his arm under Benrey's head, instinctively pulling him closer. He probably should've taken off his prosthetic before lying down, but he didn't want to risk waking Benrey by taking it off now. He'd take whatever pain he woke up with tomorrow if it meant letting them sleep.
This was weird. He didn't think he'd be snuggling with Benrey of all people. Just a few months ago, he would've sworn up and down he hated Benrey with all his heart. Yet here he was. And the thought made him feel fuzzy. Which confused him more than anything.
Whatever. He'd think about it tomorrow. He was more tired than he realized. Work was draining, and all he wanted to do right now was sleep. He'd properly make food and wash the dishes tomorrow, but for now, he'd let himself relax.
"G'night, Benrey."