Protandry

Benrey helps Gordie de-stress after work with a surprise gift he made all by himself with his shapeshifting abilities. 11/25/23

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Chapter 2: Spawning

Her wallet! Shit, did she really forget her wallet?

Gordie pats down her pockets, an icy-hot wave of panic crashing through her. If she drove out to CVS in the pouring rain at seven in the morning just to forget her fucking wallet–

Gordie follows the tired cashier’s eyes to her purse. Right. She forces a smile at the poor, tortured minimum-wage-earning teenager as she fishes her card out. She’s sure the people in line behind her want to kill her for the minor inconvenience of wasting 30 seconds of their time, so she wraps up the interaction as quickly as possible, grabs her bag, and nearly bolts out of the drugstore. She curses under her breath when the rain inevitably greets her. Trudging to her car, she mourns the soggy death of her once presentable hair.

Stress makes Gordie forgetful. And, you know, recognizing that pattern is the first step towards recovering from a bad habit, as her therapist would tell her. If she knows where the stress is coming from, then she can make well-informed and effective moves to at the very least mitigate it. Which is what she’s doing now. Strategizing. Making moves, being proactive. Gordie starts her car and, as if on cue, thunder booms in the distance, eliciting an involuntary jump and an embarrassing squeak out of her. Feeling the dread sink back in, she rests her head on the steering wheel, taking in some deep breaths. After a long moment, she collects herself, straightens up, and drives carefully out of the parking lot.

The stressor is this: Benrey’s probably pregnant.

See, Gordie’s anxiety is very often completely unfounded, and she knows this. She’s known this for a long time, and it’s something she has to confront every other Wednesday for altogether far too much money. This time, though, she has reasons. She’s not crazy, she couldn’t be, because there’s– Benrey’s– he’s been changing a lot.

It’s been about 7 or so weeks since Benrey did whatever black magic bullshit to get a vagina. Normally that would entail a million doctor visits and a billion more dollars, but Benrey can just do shit. And that’s fine. Gordie isn’t jealous, really, she’s not! It’s just– in all the time she’s known him, Gordie has never seen Benrey get sick. She just kind of assumed that once you get alien spores taking over your brain and body that the common cold doesn’t matter that much to you anymore. She’s pretty sure Benrey assumed the same thing. The first time he threw up at her house– a pungent, sickly-sweet teal-green, but certainly not a heal beam– he showed up in the doorway of her bedroom with an expression not unlike Joshua’s when he faces the consequences of eating anything he finds on the floor. Benrey’s body just doesn’t do things without his permission, he once told her through frightened tears. He doesn’t get hungry, he doesn’t have to piss, he doesn’t even need to breathe or blink. For all intents and purposes, Benrey’s body might as well be dead, puppeted by some fucked up rogue alien fungus that Black Mesa neglected to store properly. The morning sickness is pretty mild, all things considered, but the way Benrey’s acting, you’d think he’s dying.

A car horn startles Gordie. Right. The light’s green. She presses on the gas, feeling a droplet of sweat crawl down her forehead.

Benrey’s so emotional lately. That’s not normal! That’s not normal. He’s usually a brick wall of a woman; Gordie has spent nearly two years with him in her home and she still feels like she barely understands him. She’s learned some of the sweet voice. She’s picked up on the little tells. No matter what though, if Benrey wants to keep something to himself, he will keep it to himself. That facade has been cracking though. Little by little Benrey’s stress leaks out. Gordie hesitates to call him hormonal, because it’s not like his pituitary glands function anymore. Still… That’s what it has to be, right? He’s bitchy now. More than usual, Gordie guesses. Too much noise, too hot, too cold, his back hurts, he’s hungry– no, he’s nauseous.

Gordie hits a pothole and white-knuckles the steering wheel.

It’s not like Gordie’s angry with him, if anything Benrey’s mood swings can be pretty endearing. She would enjoy seeing this new side of him if it weren’t for all the implications it brings. The subtext. Benrey cries now. Not often at all, but any amount of crying is very out of character for him. Well, aside from, uh, bedroom contexts. Gordie shakes her head as if that’ll make that thought lose its grip on her brain and fall off. Now is not the time.

Benrey will get so perturbed by the things his body is doing to him he’ll cry. Some mixture of fear and abject misery. Gordie has found him hunched over the toilet sobbing into an oil spill of vomit, pouring his teardrops to the sickly mixture. It’s animalistic. He can’t control when the claws come out anymore, and he’ll yowl and growl like some rabid wolf. All Gordie can do is crouch behind him and rub soothing circles into his back, tell him it’ll be alright, even if neither of them believe it.

Gordie’s almost home. She would be too lost in thought to drive if it weren’t for the insistent knocking of the rain on the roof of her car and the crackling explosions of thunder that startle her back into the moment. She passes by the same cow farm she does nearly every day, and for the first time she notices that in the stables, tucked away from the storm, rest mother cows and their fresh calves. Gordie nearly drives off the road before she gathers herself once more.

Another thing: Benrey’s stomach is bigger. Gordie can’t be imagining that– it has to be bigger! At least by a bit! Because, ya know, Benrey can’t really gain or lose weight unless he purposefully shapeshifts to create that effect. Gordie guesses he could’ve made himself fatter for whatever reason, but she thinks that he would’ve mentioned it. Just a little “hey, more cushion for ya,” or however the fuck Benrey would put it. Either he hasn’t noticed it or he’s deliberately ignoring it. Gordie doesn’t know which one is more likely, and she doesn’t know which one is more concerning. And– she can’t pretend not to have noticed this, okay, she’s only human– his nipples are so sensitive. Maybe they’re puffier too? Have his tits gotten bigger? Is she going insane?

Gordie turns into their subdivision. She looks at the time on her car. 7:38. Not bad time. With any luck, Benrey hasn’t woken up yet, and she can get a good sample from him. For the test. Distantly, thunder roars with uncertainty.

Gordie could chock all that stuff up to Benrey just catching some bug, or some wires in his brain getting crossed, or maybe all the sleep he’s been getting over the past couple years fucked with his biology or something. The one thing– the thing that has Gordie so set on the threat of pregnancy– is what Benrey confessed to her a few nights ago.

“stuck like this,” Benrey had whimpered, clearly holding back tears. “i can’t change back, gords, they took my dick!”

When Gordie had gotten him to calm down enough to speak with any coherence, he explained to her that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t switch back to his normal form– the one with a penis and testes and all that. Every time he tried, there was some invisible barrier, something holding him back, and it was endlessly frustrating to him. More than that, though, it terrified him. He tried to save face because he knew he was already putting a lot of stress on Gordie, but a couple weeks after he found out, he couldn’t keep it in anymore. He sobbed into Gordie’s chest, gripping her shirt with his pitch black claws as she rubbed broad circles into his back. He shook and smeared snot onto her shirt, the same shirt he was unknowingly tearing apart. Gordie tried to comfort him, but she was just as shell-shocked as it dawned on her what this had to mean.

Gordie didn’t understand it, but she knew it nonetheless. Benrey had to be pregnant. She hasn’t left his poor pussy alone since he first got it, she reminds herself with shame. It’s just– she never even considered it! Benrey is, like, dubiously alive. His heart doesn’t beat, his blood doesn’t run, his lungs don’t inflate and collapse. How the fuck could he possibly support an embryo?!

The sharp slam of a car door echoes within Gordie’s garage. She carries her purse and her bag of exactly two items inside, where she tosses them on the kitchen counter and slips her wet shoes off, grimacing at the bit of mud she tracked in. She almost doesn’t notice the TV is on, but when she does, she peeks into the living room, where her gaze meets Benrey’s. He’s lounging on the couch, cozy under an Assassin’s Creed blanket, staring at her with wide pupils. He doesn’t say anything. Gordie is briefly worried he didn’t get any sleep given he’s never up this early, but he looks pretty well rested, all things considered. She forces a smile.

“Feeling any better today, sweetheart?” Gordie asks. She hopes the Sweet-Voice-inspired pet name hasn’t gotten old to him, because she still thinks she’s a genius for that one.

Benrey blinks, processing the question.

“uh, yeah, not as bad as yesterday. i didn’t throw up or nothin’.”

Gordie’s smile turns more genuine. She rustles the CVS bag, fishing both items out. Benrey’s eyes light up.

you went out just for my scrummies?” Benrey says, awed. Gordie laughs for a second, before she remembers what she actually went out for. Gordie tosses the package of Sour Patch Kids to Benrey, before a voice in the back of her head helpfully reminds her that he shouldn’t be eating so much junk food if he’s pregnant. Gordie physically waves the thought away as Benrey fumbles with his candy and mumbles out a “thank you.”

“It wasn’t just for the scrummies actually. Ben, I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something. Can you listen for a sec?” Gordie asks, managing to keep her voice from quivering too much. She waits a moment for Benrey to finish opening the package and pop a candy into his mouth, which he swallows whole like a pill.

“mm-hm.”

Gordie picks up the pregnancy test and joins him on the couch, hoping against hope that she’s not acting too strange. Benrey lifts up his legs for Gordie to sit down, then lowers them again onto her lap. He doesn’t seem to have noticed what she was holding, as the little sour dudes command his attention. He seems to be looking for a specific color, Gordie thinks, before realizing that this silence has gone on for far too long. She clears her throat.

“So, uh, Benrey,” Gordie starts cautiously, holding the test out in front of him. “Do you know what this is?”

Benrey’s eyes flick back and forth between his soggy girlfriend and the little box being held up directly in his face.

“yeah, i can read. did you forget? forgot kindergarten words?” Benrey teases, voice as unreadable as ever.

“Benrey. Come on now. I’m being serious,” Gordie huffs. Benrey’s face flushes a subtle orange, and he visibly swallows some Sweet Voice.

“i, uh, not really. i don’t remember this thing. but i can use some… context clues.”

Gordie drops the package on her lap, and her head into her hands. She’s gonna have to explain it to him– all of it. In some cruel ironic twist of fate, she’s the one who’s starting to feel nauseous.

“It’s– okay, it’s a pregnancy test. But you, uh, read that, so you know. I–” Gordie lifts her gaze to the ceiling as if to ask for some higher power to give her the strength not to freak the fuck out. She takes a deep breath, which does very little to quell her quivering tone. “I think you might be pregnant, man. It’s, like, you know how you’ve been feeling kinda sick lately, and the mood swings, and,” she pauses, knowing she shouldn’t bring it up, but does it anyway, “ever since you told me that you couldn’t change back, it’s been worrying me. It’s all I can think about, and that, like, if I got you pregnant and you don’t wanna be, I’m gonna feel so shitty, man. I– I don’t know what’s wrong with me, how the fuck did I manage to do this twice?” Gordie tosses her hands into the air, waving them dramatically. “I don’t know, man, I just– I didn’t think you could even get pregnant, but at this point, what the hell else am I supposed to blame all this on? You’re– you’re in so much pain and I just… I just wanna know what’s going on so I can– so we can figure this out. Together. So, uh. We should do this test. So we can know if that’s what’s going on. ‘Cause, like, what fucking doctor could we even take you to?! They’re gonna do an ultrasound on you and, and it’ll make them explode, or something. I can’t explain what’s going on with you to a doctor, and–”

Before she realizes what’s happening, Gordie sneezes, feeling her sinuses rapidly congest then clear out. The stress similarly escapes her, and she sniffles. Benrey’s singing calming blue at her, but the orbs are misshapen and droopy. She feels calm, but also like she just recovered from the flu. She waves the rest of the Sweet Voice away with a limp hand. Just as Gordie opens her mouth to complain about the dubious effects of the shit he just shot in her face, Benrey speaks up.

“sorry,” he mutters, “the Voice isn’t really in… tip-top shape.”

Gordie sighs. “Alright. Okay. Sorry.” She rubs the back of her neck, suppressing a yawn. Her stomach stirs; there’s only so much time blue Sweet Voice can buy her before her anxiety flares up again. She meets Benrey’s gaze. He’s predictably flat and unreadable. “Does that… sound like a plan? The test. And are you, uh, doing alright? Emotionally.”

Benrey blinks. His expression shifts ever so slightly so something resembling uncertainty, and he turns his head to shoot out a stream of Sweet Voice. There are all kinds of hues in there, and they light up the dim room in a rainbow of color where the cloudy skies had failed to. The orbs still look melty, droplets forming and then falling onto the carpet. Once Benrey seemingly gets all his emotions out, he keeps his gaze resting on the TV, clears his throat, and says, “i dunno. i didn’t study.”

Gordie tamps down the frustration she feels threatening to attack Benrey when he’s in such a vulnerable state. Still, she speaks sternly to him, gently gripping his calves where they lay tense in her lap.

“Benrey. Please, just answer me honestly. I know you’re scared, we have to talk about it. Just talk to me, Ben.”

Benrey tentatively returns Gordie’s gaze. His shadow seems darker than normal, his expression betraying some amount of guilt. Gordie waits as his legs relax slightly.

“fuckin’– it’s stupid.” Benrey’s words are quieter than unusal. He rubs his hands. “i’m scared. i’ve been scared since i started getting sick n’ all that. but i don’t really think that the whole… the whole baby thing sounds that bad. cause i like you, and i like joshua, and you’re good with lil’ shitty babies.” He blows out some pink. “just out of my, uh, element here. don’t have any walkthroughs for how to deal with having a little guy in you if you’re a zombie.”

Gordie swipes some fresh tears off her scruched-up face and breathes carefully. She doesn’t really have talks with Benrey like this that often, but they always get to her. Benrey speaks a different language than her most of the time. Whether literally via Sweet Voice or figuratively through Benrey-isms and short, curt sentences. She’s feeling something warm and something freezing cold coil and meld together in her chest. She shudders and gulps, cursing her dry ass mouth. She has to choose her response carefully. She’s a bit too shaken up to process that Benrey just told her he wants to have a kid with her.

“I’m scared too,” Gordie says. She leans over Benrey a bit to put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it firmly. “We can talk about all the… logistics, the future, and all that, later. Let’s just figure out what’s going on for sure first. Alright?”

After a moment, Benrey blinks, and in a flash he’s on top of Gordie, pulling her into a kiss. Gordie chuckles against his mouth, pressing her lips back into his. When he pulls back, he smiles, something warm and genuine. His jagged teeth reflect the light of the TV, glinting. Gordie laughs again, wiping her tears and her loose hairs away, ignoring the smudges on her glasses. “Is that a yes?”

“yeah,” Benrey reaches for the table, picking up the pregnancy test and turning it around in his hands. He squints at it. “doesn’t look that sharp.”

Gordie quirks a brow. “Sharp? Why would it be sharp?”

“‘cause aren’t you gonna, y’know, shnk?” Benrey makes his best attempt at a knife unsheathing sound effect, and he mimes a stab to his stomach. Gordie looks up at him in disbelief and mild horror.

“Why the fuck would I stab you in the stomach to find out if you’re pregnant?” Gordie huffs out a semi-laugh. Benrey pouts.

“people love cutting me up to see what’s inside. i told you my tragic backstory, i showed up all alone in a wet box at black mesa, i was a sick little orphan, and they fed me screws and nails every day–” Gordie barks out laughter and shoves him. He sinks back into the couch cushions and smiles a big, toothy grin.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Once Gordie catches her breath, the reality of the situation dawns on her all at once. Benrey doesn’t know how pregnancy tests work. She’s gonna have to explain that to him. Right. Her tone turns more cautious again. “So you don’t know how to use it.”

Benrey just keeps turning it around in his hands. “do i just shove it in there or what?”

Gordie snorts. “No, dude.”

Benrey blinks at her, eyes narrowing. “‘kay, so why aren’t you telling me?”

Gordie feels apprehension trickle down her back. Might as well just say it.

“You pee on it.”

A long silence descends upon the living room. Netflix had long since gone to sleep. Benrey’s face, slowly, so slowly morphs into the most punchable smug grin Gordie has ever seen in her life. Her cheeks burn, and as she’s planning out her scolding lecture in her head, Benrey purrs out his response.

“so how much of this is a sex thing for you? nasty girl.” Benrey crawls into Gordie’s personal space, and she thinks about pushing him away, but something in the dark recesses of her psyche stops her, somehow. She’s really in deep, huh. Instead, she firmly grabs one of his shoulders.

“It’s not a sex thing, man. You have to piss on it, I’m serious. It’ll detect the, um, GnRH, or something. There’s a hormone in there that’ll tell the test if you’re pregnant.” Gordie bonks her forehead onto Benrey’s resting it there. “Don’t make this weird,” she pleads.

Benrey nuzzles into her touch. In what feels like an attempt to lighten the mood, he says: “if i was a cow you could just reach on in there and feel around for it. that’s what they do with cows. i think i did that before.”

Gordie huffs out an exhausted laugh. She shoves Benrey off of her, gets off the couch with a crack in her back, takes the pregnancy test from his hands, and drags Benrey to the bathroom. After far too much fighting for a couple of adults with jobs and taxes to pay, Gordie gets Benrey to walk behind her rather than making her lug his ~230lbs around. When she makes it to the hallway, she swings the bathroom door open and holds it. Benrey stands outside the bathroom and looks her in the eyes like he’s lost. His 1-up Mushroom t-shirt is ruffled, his pajama pants are dirty, and his hair is sticking out every which way. Gordie pats the door and sighs. “In.”

Benrey obediently shuffles into the bathroom. Then he looks expectantly at Gordie again. Like a dog waiting for a command. Gordie shuts her eyes and sucks in a deep breath, cursing her brain for its stupid fucking horny implusive thoughts. She cannot be horny about this. It’s not a horny thing, she’s not that big of a freak. She stands in the doorway, contrasted against the dark hallway in the white light of the bathroom. She hands the test back to Benrey.

“Just take the test and leave it on the counter, then come get me if you see a second little line appear or if nothing happens after a few minutes. Alright?” Gordie proposes. She doesn’t get a response, just a blank stare, so she moves to close the door.

“wait,” Benrey’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. Gordie looks at him without turning.

“What?”

Benrey’s cheeks flush a subtle mustard yellow. He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. Then, he looks down at the ground and stammers: “i don’t. know how. to pee.”

Gordie fully turns back towards Benrey and stares openly at him, baffled. She thinks it’s a joke for a moment, before she remembers yellow like mustard means I’m flustered, and she barks out a hysterical laugh. She feels, rather than sees, Benrey’s face contort into an offended pout. If she could catch her breath, she would try to apologize, but as it is she’s far too tickled by the fact that Benrey needs to be pottytrained.

“why’re you bein’ so mean to me, bro?! i haven’t had to do this in years, do you remember how to, uh, suck on your mom’s teat? asshole,” Benrey whines.

“Okay, first of all,” Gordie chuckles, “I know how to suck, and I do it well. You know this.”

Gordie does feel some genuine regret for laughing at him, even if she couldn’t help it. She takes a deep breath, sorting out her scattered neurons. She has… so many questions, though most of them aren’t entirely relevant right now.

“Second, uh, have you tried?”

“sucking my mom’s teat?” Benrey asks, tilting his head.

“No, what? Why are you– stop thinking about that,” Gordie huffs, bemused. “Peeing, man, is it just not something you can do?”

“i don’t think so, i’ve tried. if it is a thing i could do, it’s probably not in a way that’ll get my hormones all up in there.”

Gordie’s eyes narrow. “Where do all those fucking energy drinks go then?”

“the trash. and then to a big fire pit like in Toy Story 3.”

“No, motherfucker,” Gordie huffs, bordering on hysterical, and grabs Benrey by the shoulders, “the liquid. Where does the liquid go, Benrey?”

Benrey blinks. Then he just shrugs noncommittally.

Gordie groans and rests her forehead on top of Benrey’s greasy mop of hair. She takes a couple moments to think. So Benrey drinks ungodly amounts of absolute garbage liquid, which just evaporates in his body? Or something? Benrey can’t destroy matter, can he? Does it just all get teleported to somewhere else in the universe? Is there some poor place out in the ether that’s Benrey’s designated toilet? Does his body absorb it in some new, far more unsettling way than a normal human’s?

… Has Benrey not taken a shit in half a decade?!

“Okay,” Gordie exhales, stepping away from Benrey a tad, “so when you tried, what did you do?” The question ‘What was he trying to piss for, anyway?’ lingers in the back of her mind, an unwelcome house guest. She shoos it away.

Benrey shrugs noncommittally. “just kinda sat there and waited for gravity to do its job.”

Gordie scans Benrey’s face for any sign that he’s fucking with her. When she doesn’t find any, she groans and tosses her head to the sky, as if God would have any helpful tips for her current predicament. She resolutely pushes Benrey further into the bathroom, and he scuttles back obediently. Gordie shuts the door behind them. Locks it for good measure. It’s not really to keep anyone out, but to seal whatever the fuck was about to happen here in.

Gordie swipes the pregnancy test from Benrey’s hands, where he had been mindlessly picking at the cardboard packaging. “Sit down,” she commands, ripping the package apart ungracefully. “On the toilet,” she adds, having spotted Benrey moving to sit on the floor out of her periphery. She hears a quiet, incomprehensible grumble. When Gordie finally gets to the main attraction, that damnable plastic stick, she tries to quash the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. It’s really not all that different from pottytraining Joshua, she reasons, before immediately wincing. Okay, maybe it’s not like that. Point is, she’s pretty damn experienced in getting petulant brats to pee when she needs them to. Hopefully Benrey won’t kick and scream and threaten her. She finally looks back at him, where he’s sitting politely– pants still very much on– with his wide eyes focused on Gordie, like a dog waiting for his treat after doing a particularly impressive roll-over. She resists the urge to dramatically facepalm. “Pull down your pants and underwear too, dumbass.”

“tch,” Benrey pouts, “whatever. mean to me.”

Still, he does as he’s told, completely shucking both articles of clothing off. They pile onto the floor unceremoniously. Gordie instinctively looks between Benrey’s sturdy thighs, where she sees a glint of light catching on the wetness gathered there. She averts her eyes towards the wall, blushing. As if there’s any modesty to preserve here.

“Okay,” Gordie breathes, psyching herself up, “just– hold this under your–your, uh. Hold it under your crotch and then push,” she squeaks authoritatively. She holds the test out to Benrey. He takes it and holds it under himself, then looks back up at her behind narrowed brows. Gordie does not meet his gaze.

“push what,” Benrey asks, monotone as ever.

Gordie doesn’t have a hard time believing that’s a genuine question.

Still, she’s at a loss, here. How the hell do you explain pissing to someone who doesn’t need to do it? “Your abdominal muscles,” Gordie ventures. “Just… tense them. Push.” A lightbulb goes off in her head, and she adds: “Y’know, ‘cause there’s liquid trapped in your bladder, you just gotta try to, uh, squeeze it out. Like a– a Capri Sun. Your bladder’s the pouch and the straw is your urethra. I guess.” She’s rambling. It’s been a long while since she’s had to examine and define the mechanics of the human body. She’s never really been a biology girl. In any case, that seems to click with Benrey, somehow. He gives a small and quick nod, squinching his eyes shut. He tenses, thighs flexing. Gordie swallows and thinks she should probably look away. She doesn’t.

After a couple awkward moments, Benrey abruptly relaxes his muscles and sighs, frustrated. He looks back at Gordie, mouth pursed in a childish frown. She feels sorry for him, but only for a moment.

“Try again,” Gordie commands, stepping a bit closer to Benrey.

Nothing, again. This time, Benrey looks to the floor, face mustard yellow with embarrassment.

Gordie groans, bringing a hand to her face, rubbing it as if to assure herself she’s not just having an elaborate nightmare. “Did you even have anything to drink today? I find it hard to believe you’re not full of Monster right now.”

“i did!” Benrey whines, returning his gaze to Gordie. “i’m the most hydrated there’s ever been–”

Benrey clamps his mouth shut with a click when Gordie decisively kneels before him, hardly an inch away from the toilet. His breath hitches, and his face shifts hue to something warmer. Gordie holds her hand out on Benrey’s lap, open-palmed. “Gimme the test,” she commands, voice not betraying the roiling anxiety in her stomach. Benrey swallows and does as he’s told. With her prosthetic hand, she pushes Benrey’s shirt over his belly.

“what’s, uh,” Benrey stammers, “what’re you doing. down there.”

Gordie carefully maneuvers the test under Benrey, roughly where he was holding it before. She’s careful to avoid the water. And Benrey’s cunt. Her face burns. With her other hand, she pushes firmly on Benrey’s abdomen. He sucks in air through his pointy teeth. A mixture of pain and pleasure, Gordie guesses, given just how slick the slit in front of her is.

“I’m helping,” Gordie says. Benrey mumbles out a questioning noise, so she clarifies: “I’m adding pressure. Trying to– to coax it out. Capri Sun, remember? Just relax, alright? You can do this.” Benrey’s next exhale is shaky. He lets his muscles relax. She sees his hole flex, belatedly realizing her face is a bit too close to all this. Blushing, she leans back a little bit and waits.

“C’mon man, you got it,” Gordie encourages, trying to keep her frustration from bleeding into her tone. “Just let go for me, I know you can do it.” Her metallic hand pushes on his tummy a bit harder, insistent. Benrey whines. He lets his eyes drift close and his breathing slow.

After an excruciating minute or so, Benrey finally, finally, makes some progress. An uncertain stream of dribbles falls out of him, and Gordie is so overcome with relief that he actually can pee that she doesn’t notice that they completely miss the test. He stops pissing as quickly as he started, panting like he just ran up a flight of stairs. When Gordie looks down into the bowl and sees the spotless test (though a couple drops made it to her hand, because of course they did) and the curiously reddish liquid dispersing into the water below, she groans. She looks back up at Benrey’s face, meeting his blown-out pupils, and her metal hand lightly grips at his tummy.

“That– that was good, Ben, but we need more. I– the– it missed,” Gordie pleads with him. Benrey audibly swallows.

“trying. you’re distracting me, idiot.” Benrey can’t make himself say that with any actual ire, his voice coated in desperation and lust.

That’s what it is, isn’t it? The color of his urine didn’t faze Gordie after all, despite it looking like the sample of someone who’s about to learn they’ve got rocks in their kidneys. It’s rust. Of course. When Benrey sweats in bed, it’s the same vaguely sweet-and-spicy flavor as his ever-so-familiar horny Sweet Voice. Why wouldn’t his urine be the same? A strong smell hits her like a train: a mix of piss, pussy musk, and cinnamon. Gordie’s mouth goes dry. She fixes her gaze on the thing she’s been avoiding this whole time. Benrey’s cunt is soaking wet, and it can’t just be from that pathetic little whimper of pee. Gordie’s glasses fog up a bit as she shifts her legs.

“Just– stop paying attention to me. Close your eyes, think about, uh, waterfalls, or something. You can do it, man, I know you can,” Gordie says, heat gathering in her stomach for reasons she refuses to investigate at this time. “Good boy,” her brain forces her to mutter, as if trying to get it past herself. But she heard, and Benrey heard too, if the subtle throb of his clit is any indicator.

Time ticks excruciatingly by, absolutely no progress being made. Gordie gradually loses her patience as it goes. Her “good boy”s quickly turn into “come on, Benrey”s to “fucking– get it over with already”s. In her frustration, she unthinkingly blurts out: “If I do it first, will you go?!”

For once, Benrey registers what Gordie says before she does. He blinks down at her in surprise, his face a deep purple-red. “huh?”

Gordie’s mind skids to a halt. Shit, did she really just say that? She tentatively meets Benrey’s gaze again, feeling unbelievably frazzled, gritting her teeth. She’s sure if she saw herself in the mirror right now, she would have an entirely new crisis over her eye bags. Still, maybe doing a little… demonstration… wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“I’ll just– I’ll piss. For you. To make you feel less, uh, pee-shy,” Gordie stammers. Benrey just blinks at her, wide-eyed, panting. “It’s not weird! Look, I’m just– I’m showing you that you can do it. Okay? It’s not that hard. Just hold on.” She extricates herself from under Benrey, standing on barely-stable legs. Her joints should not be this bad at 30. She shuffles miserably over to the sink, where she delicately places the pregnancy test on the counter and washes the stray droplets of urine off her hand. She shuts off the faucet and gathers her resolve. When she turns back to Benrey, she’s somehow surprised to see that he hasn’t moved an inch. He has a strange look on his face. Gordie follows his eyes and realizes he’s zeroed in on her incredibly obvious boner. Her face burns and she instinctively clenches her thighs together. She realizes all too late that her little demonstration isn’t gonna go as smoothly as she hoped. She’s at a bit of a loss for words for once, so she just pads over to the toilet silently. Benrey’s mouth parts as he stares up at Gordie through thick lashes. One part of her– the rational, adult part– is telling her to move Benrey out of the way. His thighs are fat, leaving very little room for Gordie to piss into the toilet. And, like, aside from that, this is just weird! She shouldn’t be enabling Benrey’s weird fetish, or whatever’s going on with him. The other part of Gordie– her dick– is telling her that this is a great idea. Possibly the best that she’s ever had. Despite all the times it’s led her astray, she listens to that stupid impulse, shakily unzipping her jeans and fishing her dick out of her panties. She realizes with a bit of mortification that she’s almost fully hard. Which is embarrassing enough on its own, but its hitting her that she might have as much trouble pissing as Benrey at this point. Benrey audibly swallows, and Gordie’s dick twitches in response. Fucking Pavlov.

Gordie gathers all her courage, very pointedly looking away from Benrey’s face, instead fixing her gaze at the minuscule sliver of space she has to aim for if she doesn’t want to get her piss all over Benrey’s thighs. She ignores the demon in her head that tells her she very much would like to mark Benrey up and carefully aims her cock for the water and pushes. And pushes. And…

“what’s the holdup, piss girl?” Benrey drawls. Gordie’s eyes are squeezed painfully shut, so she hears rather than sees the impossibly smug grin splitting his face. Her responding groan comes out far more pathetic than she had hoped for.

“Shut up, man, it’s harder when–”

“yeah, it’s harder alright.”

“Benrey,” Gordie snaps her eyes open, immediately fixing a glare to Benrey’s dumb grin. “I need you to shut up. For five seconds. So I can relax, and–”

Benrey, ever so generous, sings Gordie some wobbly blue. She sighs, which turns into a sneeze again. Still, she’s mostly placated. She almost thanks him out of habit before remembering she’s mad at him right now. So, she just closes her eyes and focuses again. After just a few seconds and considerable effort, the dam finally breaks. Relief washes over her, and she lets out a quiet groan.

Gordie realizes a bit too late that she should probably have her eyes open for this process. A sharp inhale from Benrey reminds her of this, and she immediately realizes she has already gotten his thighs wet. Panic and arousal bravely battling in her brain, she overcorrects her aim, only successful at getting her hot piss all over Benrey’s other thigh. Shit, shit, shit! Gordie, awash in shame, gripping her dick far tighter than she needs to, aims the tiniest bit over to the right, and… there. Finally. Her stream, coming out in uneven bursts, avoids Benrey’s thighs and, more crucially, his cunt. Gordie is beyond grateful that for all the universe’s cruelty, it spared her that singular embarrassment. She dares to get a look at Benrey’s expression again, gaze slowly raking up his body, and– fuck. God, she hasn’t seen him that starstruck in ages. His eyes are wide, focused on Gordie’s dick, and she can practically see stars shining in their darkness. His chest heaves. Rusty drool slips from his lips and drips down onto his shirt. The sight makes her dick throb, which makes her piss stream falter, which makes Benrey’s eyes dart up to meet hers. She fully whimpers, urgently closing her eyes yet again in shame. Within seconds, though it felt excruciatingly long, it’s all over. Gordie’s bladder is finally empty. Mentally exhausted, she doesn’t have it in her to shake the last droplets off her cockhead, so she messily tucks her needy dick back into her panties as quickly as possible, discomfort be damned. She can’t keep it out. That would just be too weird, somehow, after everything that just happened. She clears her throat, shifting on her feet.

“There,” Gordie says with all the confidence of a lost puppy. “Think you can go now?”

Benrey just nods wordlessly, his jaw slack with dumb awe. Piss and slick drip intermittently from his thighs and into the toilet bowl that neither of them even began to consider they could flush. Gordie aimlessly feels for the pregnancy test on the countertop, maintaining eye contact with Benrey all the while. She has to hold on to some sort of control in all this; she’s feeling her hairs graying in real time. Dragging it towards her, she takes the test back in hand and resumes the same position she had earlier, knelt between Benrey’s filthy, quivering legs and holding that damned stick underneath his pussy. This time she’s far less comfortable– she’s got a nose full of piss stink, a hand wet with her own piss droplets, wailing joints, and a boner she’s unsuccessfully trying to will out of existence. Gordie decisively and forcefully shoves her metal arm back into Benrey’s stomach, not too fussed about being gentle anymore. It knocks a little “oof” out of him.

“Then go,” Gordie commands.

Mercifully, there’s only a few seconds pause before the dam breaks, announced by a groan of relief. Hot rusty piss gushes out of Benrey, getting all over Gordie’s fingers and, more importantly, the pregnancy test. She would echo his relief, both for what’s probably a very satisfying release for him and for the success of her pottytraining efforts, but she’s far too distracted by all the sensory input. It’s– She’s– Listen, okay. She knew she was into this sort of thing already, distantly. That desire had just been repressed to hell and back, which is currently biting her in the ass. The strong, uninterrupted stream of impossibly warm and musky piss soaking her hand and splashing droplets onto her glasses is doing a number on her composure, or what little of it she has left. Her dick throbs in her pants, and when Benrey straight-up moans she clenches her jaw and focuses harder than she has in years. She can’t let this get any weirder than it already is. There’s a line somewhere– and she doesn’t know where– that they’ve yet to cross and she won’t let them do it.

And it just keeps going. On and on, Benrey’s seemingly an endless fount of urine. Horniness briefly gives way to concern, and right when Gordie’s about to pull back and ask Benrey if he’s doing alright, his stream finally lets up. It trickles to a stop. A couple awkward little droplets struggle to catch up. Then finally it’s over, and Benrey punctuates it with a grunt of discomfort, shifting around on the bowl. It’s only then Gordie realizes she hadn’t taken her metal arm off his stomach or even lessened the pressure at all. Embarrassment rushes through her and she jerks her arm back.

“S-sorry. Good boy– uh, job. Good job,” Gordie stammers, not allowing the oppressive silence to go on any longer. Benrey just shivers and Gordie moves to stand on unstable legs. Carefully, with calculated movements, she tears off a bit of toilet paper, sets it down on the cold white countertop, and delicately places the pregnancy test atop it. She catches a quick glance at herself in the mirror– her frazzled hair, soaked hand, skewed, wet glasses… Anxiety and arousal both crash through her, and she tears her eyes away as quickly as possible, landing her gaze on Benrey. It’s not exactly an easy viewing experience either, but Gordie finds she can’t look away from this one. He’s so wrecked. His wide eyes meet Gordie’s, then her hand, before settling on the wall beside her. He clears his throat.

“thuh. thank. you,” Benrey manages. He swallows. “what, uh. now.”

“Um, three minutes. We wait for like three minutes and it’ll– the test will tell us the results.”

“... cool.”

Benrey finally dares to look back at Gordie. She finds it hard to maintain eye contact through the thick tension. Seconds tick by in a silence that feels deafeningly loud. Benrey, far less patient than her, snakes his hand underneath him tentatively. He feels the wetness there, runs his fingers along it, and shivers. Gordie all but whimpers as she shoves her pants and panties down with her prosthetic, then grabs at her cock with her piss-soaked hand. It’s– it’s what this was all building up to anyway. She can’t avoid it anymore, and when she grips at her shaft with that slick, warm hand, she realizes she doesn’t want to avoid it at all. Especially not when Benrey slips a couple fingers into himself like that– he does it so easily with how wet he is, and when he rubs at his clit with his thumb and arches his back and openly moans like that– fuck. Gordie’s not gonna last long like this, she realizes through a thick haze. She’s been so pent up with so much stress, and she’s jacking off like her life depends on it, obscenely slick noises bouncing off the walls of her small bathroom.

“Shit, g-god, Benrey,” Gordie says, delirious. “You can’t do this to me, fuck–”

“yheaaah?” Benrey slurs, mouth contorting into a sickly smug grin. “do– do what, huh?” His unoccupied hand pushes his shirt up, exposing his fluffy chest and his puffy nipples. “this?” he teases before pinching a nipple and twisting, eliciting a truly salacious keen out of himself.

The eroticism hits Gordie like a truck, and she grunts, and it’s all the warning she can give Benrey before she’s coming all over his plush tummy. Her cum mixes with every other assorted bodily fluid painting Benrey’s skin, messing him up even more, like he’s just some poor abused cumrag. All the energy drains out of Gordie, and she slowly slides down the wall to sit her bare ass on the bathroom floor, grounding herself and catching her breath. Deeply satisfied. Never been more at peace in her life, probably. She keeps an eye on Benrey, though, and smiles reflexively at the sight. So cute, Gordie can’t help but think, watching Benrey hurriedly rubbing her semen onto his clit in tight circles, whining and unconsciously bucking up into his hand. How can you be covered in piss and sweat and cum and still look that fucking cute.

Finally, Benrey hits an arch and a high note, singing and squirting plum like some kind of sprinkler. Gordie chuckles at the mental image, feeling a bit drunk on affection and endorphins. When Benrey sags back onto the toilet seat, nearly ragdolling at this point, he lifts his head up to pout at her. “whuh–” he tries, face purple and out of breath, “what’re you laughin’ at… punk…”

“You,” Gordie giggles, love bubbling out from her chest and into her voice. “You’re a mess, man. C’mon,” she grunts, standing up. Her limbs feel a bit like goo, but she’ll manage. She looks at her prosthetic, considering it for a moment, before taking it off with her nasty ass hand. She’ll clean it later. Right now, she just wants to shed her clothes, offer a hand to Benrey, get him out of his t-shirt too, and bathe the both of them until there’s not a molecule of bacteria on either of their bodies. She starts the shower, and then she just kisses Benrey until the water’s warm. Their gentle banter and laughter fades into the pitter patter of the water with a swish of a shower curtain.

Behind them, on the countertop, a little blue line fades into the picture.