Sopping Wet Dream

Gordon has a wet dream about Benrey, and the real Benrey shows up. 25/10/22

It was so delicate, so fuzzy and gentle. Every little sound was amplified tenfold. A rustle of fabric, a creak of a bedframe, an anxious breath alike all seemed to shake the air around them. Gordon was helpless beneath Benrey, who’s eyes were dark and focused. This time he wasn’t fighting for his life or reliving his trauma, though. It was horrifying in a completely different way. There was a tension so oppressive, so all-encompassing, so searing as Benrey’s ominous glowing eyes pierced into his own. It was a familiar anxiety, one that Gordon finally had the confidence to overcome. So, gently as if handling an untamed beast, he reached up and caressed Benrey’s face, urging him downward into a kiss. It felt right; it felt like he had done this every day of his life and like it was entirely new all at once. The feeling was difficult to parse, and Gordon couldn’t hold onto a thought to save his life. He could hold on to the body on top of him, though. He let his arms slip over the small of Benrey’s back, bringing them down closer.

Benrey may be shorter than Gordon, but he felt huge. What that creature lacked in height he made up for in width, and his muscle and fat built him into a truly formidable form. Benrey really did have the body of a security guard, and looking at their giant arms for too long made Gordon sweat. He didn’t feel threatened like he did back at Black Mesa, though. More and more every passing day, Gordon found his fear turning into– God, it always embarrassed him to admit– hunger. He wanted to see how Benrey’s body moved up close, how the muscle made his skin shift mesmerizingly. He wanted to feel all that weight on top of him, like the world’s grossest and most annoying weighted blanket. He wanted to see if all that mass translated underneath the baggy clothes.

Gordon didn’t remember how the two of them ended up in his bed, limbs tangled, mouthing desperately at each others’ necks. He didn’t remember what led to the slow drag of Benrey’s clothed dick against his own, or the events leading up to the delicious growls and grunts Benrey was letting out. Gordon, quite frankly, couldn’t give less of a shit about much other than making sure there was not a molecule of air between him and Benrey.

Sleep was weird.

Sleep was weird and was annoying. It was annoying at Black Mesa, and it sure as hell was annoying now. Benrey was beyond grateful that Gordon was letting them crash at his apartment while they figured everything out, of course. Even more than the utility of having a roof over his head, the ability to be with Gordon for that much time every day was a lifesaver. Benrey honestly had no clue what he would do if he couldn’t annoy Gordon every single day. Every eye roll, every chuckle, every full-out barking laughter was like a drug to him. And everyone knows that drugs are really cool and have no adverse effects.

Benrey’s time with Gordon each day could have been so much longer if only that idiot didn’t need to be asleep 50% of his whole damn life. Benrey wouldn’t have had to lay down on Gordon’s couch every night staring at the ceiling or jacking off or playing shitty FPS games over and over again if Gordon would just get over the whole “catching Z’s” thing. Benrey tried, he really did, to pick up every human behavior he could, but sleep had continually evaded him. So every night they went through Gordon withdrawal, and he didn’t know how the hell to cope.

Still, Benrey did have one way to be with Gordon at night, though: he tried hopping into his dreams occasionally. It seemed like a great idea to them at first; they could annoy Gordon, he would never even know it was really Benrey, and he would probably forget most of it anyway. It was a good plan in theory, but in practice it mostly involved stepping into a nightmare beyond Benrey’s own imagination.

Gordon’s dreams were almost always shrouded in darkness, haunted by gunshots, and they usually featured Benrey already, but never in a flattering way. They understood, mostly. The two of them had talked at length about what had happened at Black Mesa, sharing their feelings and coming to a mutual understanding, and even becoming friends. But the Resonance Cascade and what Benrey did to him afterwards had stuck with him. They knew, logically, that trauma works in exactly that way. They just weren’t prepared to see such a visceral visual depiction of that trauma. The trauma they inflicted upon him. That’s how most of Benrey’s dream-hopping experiences went, so after a while he stopped doing it completely. It just made him feel bad every time. As much as it sucked to be without Gordon for roughly eight hours every day, it sucked more to see him getting hurt. Even worse to see him hurt by a dream version of themself.

So, it had been a while since Benrey tried to peek into Gordon’s dreams. After a particularly shitty episode of Pawn Stars , he shut the TV off in a huff, and sunk further into the couch. He let his eyes slip shut, eyebrows drawn together, lips stuck out in a pout. Those damned storage containers never had anything cool in them, just musty old clothes and $30 knick-knacks of little angel babies. Boring. A while ago he read about some people with ADHD experiencing violent boredom, and he started questioning his mental state ever since. Something about his impulsivity and tendency to drift off. Joycon drift disorder. Benrey groaned and threw his head back, resting it on the top of the couch. Fine. He decided could try snooping on Gordon again. If it sucked, he could hit the bricks and try to do something extra nice for him in the morning. He’d been waiting to try out a new french toast recipe anyway.

When Benrey opened his eyes, he was smack dab where he was before. Confusion and mild panic started to set in. Did he forget how to do this? Had he gone too soft, and all his cool alien powers melted away? He stood up to test out his shapeshifting just to be sure, but stopped when he saw a soda can on the floor. Not out of the ordinary in and of itself, obviously, but that was definitely Mountain Dew before, and now it was some weird blur. New brand of soda, it looked like shit. So he was in the dream world. Benrey supposed it was weird that Gordon was dreaming about his own apartment, but he was no expert, so he shrugged it off. This was Gordon’s dream, so Gordon had to be around here somewhere. Hopefully, since the setting was so unremarkable, this wasn’t some horrible Xen nightmare where Benrey tore Gordon limb from limb again.

Benrey stretched, assessing his options. Gordon’s room was probably a safe bet, right? It felt a little wrong to barge into his room though. Gordon was really anal about his privacy. Benrey decided he should probably respect that. Walking into someone’s dreams unannounced is one thing, but breaching boundaries within said dream was just a real dick move.

Right when Benrey turned on their heels to check out the kitchen, they were startled by a sound down the hallway. They’d heard enough Gordon pain noises to know it wasn’t a good sound. Benrey’s hope was dashed. Another nightmare, then. Or, it would’ve seemed like one, if it weren’t for how soft it sounded. Like he was listening to Gordon sleeptalk.

They squinted down the hall, where Gordon’s door hung slightly ajar, letting soft yellow light pierce through the pitch blackness of their apartment. Well, it’s not a breach of privacy if the door is open, right? It was Gordon’s fault, leaving an open invitation like that. He couldn’t get mad at Benrey for thinking outside the box. So Benrey stumbled over to Gordon’s door cautiously. He didn’t want to make his presence known just yet. When he came up to the door, he let his sensitive eyes adjust to the light, nearly choking on his own breath at what he saw.

Firstly, Gordon was not in pain. He wasn’t hunched over his severed arm, nor was he crying out in sorrow over a damaged world, damage for which he blamed himself. Instead, Gordon was laying in his bed, an expression of bliss painting his face. This, despite being a first in Benrey’s dream travels, was the least shocking element of the scene. No, that was the fact that he was shirtless and bracketed on both sides by the arms of another person, nearly entirely naked save for their boxers. Especially since that other person was Benrey . Gordon was in bed with a visage of Benrey, and they were making out like teenagers with Gordon’s hands grabbing at Dream Benrey’s ass. Its ass which was clothed with boxers that Benrey absolutely owned in real life.

He briefly thought he would have a heart attack and die in two dimensions at once.

Or he would die from getting the world’s biggest boner too fast and everyone would laugh. It would be worth it.

It was a lot to take in. He’d seen Gordon’s chest before, obviously, but Benrey had always tried to avert his eyes, or he would try to say something decidedly unsexy in a desperate attempt to hide his attraction. It wasn’t like Gordon didn't know they were into him, but now that he was letting Benrey crash at his apartment, they had to stay on his good side. For the most part. If they creeped Gordon out too much then they would’ve gotten kicked out, no hesitation. This was an entirely different context though. Was it right to ogle at Gordon’s massive honkers like this? At his plush stomach, his forest of a happy trail, and his perfectly thick biceps tensing and relaxing in waves? Was it okay to drink in every gasp, squeak, and groan?

It probably wasn’t cool to spy on Gordon like this, even if it was the hottest thing Benrey had ever seen in his life– the way his eyebrows drew together as he nuzzled into Dream Benrey’s neck, hands tightening on its ass, kneading it like fuckin’ dough– and even if the dream was ostensibly about them , it wasn’t right. So Benrey surveyed their options. The first option, and the most sensible one, was just leaving. He could leave and the two of them would never have to talk about it. Painless for Gordon, much less so for Benrey, who was down so disastrously bad for him, but it would ultimately be harmless. On the other hand, they could join in. God, did they want to, more than anything. What could they say though? “Hey Freeman, I mitosis’d myself, is that hot?” No, it wouldn’t be fair to lie to him. So… what if Benrey just told Gordon the truth? Their heart ran a mile a minute. They could actually have a chance here. They could have something real, something not cloaked in 15 layers of irony and inaccessibility. That was terrifying. But it would be the best ever, too.

Alright. All Benrey needed to do was make a good entrance. The rest would fall into place. He had this in the bag.

“Hey.”

Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin and bonked his head on his bedframe before an immediate pulse of shame washed over him. “Jesus,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, dude, I just– ya know. Nervous.” Now that he was paying attention, he was puzzled by the look on Benrey’s face above him. It scrunched in equal confusion . Adorable confusion, but still confusion. Gordon glanced at his door. And, yeah, that would explain it. There was another Benrey there. So he was dreaming, he realized with a tinge of disappointment. Oh well. “Hey, Benrey. What’s, uh, up.” He cringed.

Luckily, they seemed even less confident than him. “Pretty nasty, dreaming about this kinda– kinda stuff. Your brain cook this shit up every night? Freak– uh, freaky. Freeman-ky. Gross,” they muttered, fidgeting with their hoodie strings. Gordon couldn’t help but chuckle. Why’d his mind come up with such a pathetic little timid Benrey? It was nothing like them at all.

“I dunno, man, you should know, you’re in my dreams all the time.” They just reddened at this, eyes darting away.

The Benrey on top of Gordon whined. “Come on, man, ruined the mood. Who give a shit about all this, stupid,” it cut itself off with a long, drawn-out lick along Gordon’s neck. He shuddered. “Such chicken shit. Just get over here or fuck off.”

“Uh,” the other Benrey began, “yeah. Uh.” They dragged their gaze back to Gordon and swallowed, taking a couple little mouse steps forward. “Want to. I want to so bad. But, uh. I’m an imposter. Like from the game.” Gordon just squinted at him. “Among us.”

“No, yeah, dude. I know what Among Us is. What are you–”

“I’m real. From real life. Visiting.”

Dream Benrey clamped down on Gordon’s neck, hard. It was a little difficult to decipher Benrey-isms while getting eaten alive. “Huh?” he choked out.

Benrey shuffled forward. “I hopped into Gordon Dream World. Cause I miss- uh, missed bothering you. Don’t wanna trick you and make you do something. With me. From the real. I can go. Sorry for making things– yeah. Bye,” they swung around, stumbling awkwardly toward the door.

“Wait!” Gordon shoved Dream Benrey off of him, much to its chagrin. It bounced on its ass sadly, leaning against the wall. The other Benrey stopped in their tracks, hesitantly looking over their shoulder at Gordon. “Don’t leave, man. I don’t– … you can do that?”

“Whuh?”

“Dream hop. That’s a thing you can do?”

“Yuh... yeah,” Benrey glanced away and paused. “I do it sometimes. Never felt right to say ‘hi’ or whatever. Sorry.”

Gordon blinked. That didn’t sound right. Benrey could do a lot of weird shit, but this didn’t make much sense in the context of his other powers. He could shapeshift and use Sweet Voice and manifest fires at will for some reason, but those were all physical. They’d never had any mind-reading capabilities. Unless… Gordon shook his head. They would’ve done or said something. If they could hop into dreams, that would also imply a lot of things about dream science that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“I’ll be honest, Benrey, I think you’re just another random brain signal and not some dream psychic,” Gordon said. Right as Benrey opened their mouth for a retort, Gordon continued: “but if you are real, or if you’re fake, I really couldn’t give less of a shit at the moment. I’ll deal with the implications of it all later. I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m like, disastrously horny right now.” He paused, gathering his courage and fending off his shame in one breath. “I… really like the idea of having two of you. All over me. So get over here before I die of embarrassment.”

Finally, Benrey turns to face Gordon and Dream Benrey again. Gordon notices, with a combination of pride and mild terror, how affected they are by all this. Their expression would have looked unimpressed to an untrained eye, but Gordon was very learned in the field of Benrey, whether he liked it or not. Their eyes were far wider than Gordon had ever seen them, the pupils were dilated like crazy. Their mouth hung slightly open, a timid stream of reddish Sweet Voice breezed out, and their cheeks were dusted with lavender. Oh, and he was hard as a rock. It looked uncomfortable down there. Gordon was determined to fix that.

Once Benrey had shuffled into arms’ reach, Gordon grabbed their bicep and tugged them down into a kiss. It was messy, for sure, but the moment their lips met Benrey sunk down onto the bed, arms draping over Gordon’s shoulders. This Benrey was not a good kisser. Not like the first one. But there was something so charming about their desperation and enthusiasm. It felt a lot more real in a way that made Gordon’s cheeks burn. After finally breaking apart, Benrey whispered a little “Holy shit.” Gordon grinned. “Don’t look at me like that, pretty-ass. Jeez,” They muttered, shifting to straddle one of Gordon’s legs. Feeling the outline of their dick on his thigh, even through their clothes, had his mouth going dry. He was never going to have a dream better than this, he thought deliriously.

Dream Benrey joined the two of them, forcing Gordon’s legs wider so it could straddle his unoccupied thigh, rocking back and forth gently. Benrey followed suit, gently cupping Gordon’s face with one hand and his pec with another. They began kissing again. Gordon was fucking breathless. It was already incredibly overwhelming. In a good way though, he thought as both Benreys’ hands went to play with his nipples. A really, really good way. He felt his legs twitch and a desperate sound escape his mouth when one of the Benreys pinched and twisted. Gordon pulled away from Benrey’s lips to get a better look at the scene in front of him. He immediately regretted it.

A hand was sneaking up Benrey’s hoodie, making them go stiff. One of Dream Benrey’s hands. Gordon swallowed. Sigmund Freud would probably have a lot to say about the way that was making his cock twitch. Gordon’s own hand joined it, rubbing the small of Benrey’s back. They groaned. “Off,” Gordon commanded.

“Yes sirrr,” Benrey gasped, fumbling to take his top off. Gordon drank it all in as Benrey shucked the hoodie off to some corner of the room. With the two Benreys shirtless side-by-side now, he realized with some mortification that the first one– Dream Benrey– was bigger and hairier. The second one was still big, by all accounts. They were caked in delicious muscle and fat and fluff, but they were definitely more compact. They were also covered in a myriad of scars Gordon couldn’t even begin to understand the stories behind. Benrey was gorgeous, quite frankly, and Gordon was starting to believe that this really was the real Benrey, because there was no way his brain could’ve supplied him with something like this.

“Eyes are up here, Feetman. You really are lost in the sauce, huh,” their voice shot into Gordon’s ears, causing him to jump. How long had he been staring at Benrey’s belly? Jesus.

“Sorry,” Gordon replies. “You’re just– god, you’re really hot.” Benrey tried to stammer out a response, but Gordon cut it short by slipping his hand under both Benreys’ boxers, groping their asses, which earned a hiss from both of them. “I wanna see you, please.”

Dream Benrey immediately moved to tear its boxers off like they burned its skin. The other Benrey hesitated though. “Holy shit,” they breathed out, “say that again.”

Gordon flushed. “You’re hot?”

“No, the– ask like that again. Please.”

So that’s what it was, huh. “You want me to beg?” Gordon purred with a shit-eating grin, which was wiped off his face instantly by a hand gripping his hair. Fuck, that was good. Dream Benrey got in his face and growled.

“You heard them. Do it, Freeboy. Beg.”

The Benreys shared dark, hungry looks. The dream one was so close that Gordon couldn’t see much else, but he definitely felt its dick, fat and leaking, poking at his belly. Holy shit. He squeezed at Benrey’s ass like a stress ball. Yeah, he could beg.

“Shit, please Benrey. I want your cock, man, I’ll do whatever you want. I need it. Please.”

Not for the first time tonight, Benrey was sure he was going to die. Or that he was already dead. Either way, they were having a borderline religious experience and they had no clue what they had done to deserve it. They were gonna do everything in their power to make sure it was something they could do again.

Benrey stopped humping Gordon’s leg like it was a sad, sad pillow to completely undress. They were trying with great effort to perform the role it seemed like Gordon wanted. Still, it was hard to match the energy- or the looks, for that matter- of Dream Benrey. Was that really how Gordon imagined him? It was so domineering, so big. In more ways than one. Getting a look at that thing’s dick was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Gordon imagined Benrey to have a fucking beer can between his legs, which was flattering. On the other hand, Gordon imagined Benrey to have a fucking beer can between his legs, which he did not . Should they change it? Could they change it? It was already taking enough concentration to do all this dream stuff, and they weren’t willing to risk losing their Dream Connection™ just to conjure up a bigger dick. It was probably fine. Besides, it was… kind of hot? They decided not to examine the implications of that.

Finally letting his dick free, Benrey kicked his pants and boxers out of the way. He settled back onto the bed, sitting on his calves before Gordon. They chanced a look up at his face. God , what a face it was. He looked drunk with it all, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly drawn open. Before Benrey had any time to make a comment, Gordon gently took both Benreys’ cocks in either hand. Dream Benrey hissed. Benrey made a pathetic little whimper. His hands slid smoothly over each of them, no lube required. Dream logic was awesome. Despite a truly negligible amount of time passing between the beginning of the dream and this moment, Benrey felt like they had been waiting an eternity to get any sort of stimulation. It hit him like a truck, and it took all his self control not to start using Gordon’s hand like a fleshlight. “Shit, god, so good at this,” Benrey murmured, semi-consciously. They remembered something while staring at their partner’s face, letting their hand come up to his head and tangle into his mane. Gordon groaned, his lower half shifting.

Right. Benrey had been so preoccupied with making direct eye contact (Gordon was so pretty when he was flustered, how could they not be hypnotized by that face?) that they forgot to get a peek at that tent in his pants. Yeah, they had to cop a feel. Immediately. Benrey used their unoccupied hand to give it a firm squeeze. Gordon near-instantly bucked his hips, a shaky “ah” escaping his lips. He was practically trembling, all shaky like a baby deer. Apparently it was possible to be even more worked up than Benrey was. Cool. Dream Benrey closed in on Gordon and slipped its hand down his pants, pawing at his ass, as Benrey prepared to fill the dead air.

“Fuck, Gords, so good at this,” Benrey rumbled, scooting closer. “You- you dream about this all the time? About jackin’ it with your buh- hrngh- best bud Benrey?” They tightened their grip on Gordon’s scalp, earning them an adorable whimper. “Seems like you, you got a lot of- uh- practice, with the big guy over here. Coulda just asked, had the real thing whenever. If- fuck- you want.” They let go of his poor, gorgeous hair, causing his head to fall onto their shoulder. He grabbed onto their waist for dear life, abandoning the Benreys’ dicks. He shuddered.

“I- I…” Gordon started, still chasing the friction of Benrey’s hand over his cock, “fuck, I dunno, god, I want…”

“Come on, buddy, use your big boy words,” Benrey teased.

Gordon’s whole body cringed. “Gross, dude.”

“Boo hoo,” Benrey pouted mockingly, “My name’s Gordon and I hate when my dreamboat fuckbuddy tries to dirty talk with me. Wouldn’t even have to if you’d just tell me what you want instead of writhing around like, fucking, Earthworm Jim or whatever. I’m tryin’ over here, come on-nuh!”

“That’s it, I’m going soft on you. It’s over, you can’t reference Earthworm Fucking Jim while trying to get in my pants, you fucking weirdo,” Gordon threatened, but Benrey could hear his smile. That was their favorite sound. Well, other than–

Gordon jerked and gasped at Dream Benrey’s claws (when did it get claws?) running down his back. “I’ll tell you what Gordo wants,” it purred, “I think this little slut wants to get spitroasted, doesn’t he? Whaddaya say, buddy?”

So OOC, Benrey thought. I don’t talk like that.

Gordon bit back a full-out moan. “Ngh, y-yes. Please. Fuck me.”

With that, a motor inside Benrey began to stir. They wordlessly shoved Dream Benrey out of the way, situating themself between Gordon’s legs. Dream Benrey’s only protest was a little grumble before accepting its fate, taking a seat behind the man of the hour. It groped Gordon’s hips and Gordon rested his head on its shoulder, looking down at Benrey through skewed, foggy glasses. His eyes were like saucers and his chest heaved with the effort of keeping his cool under the Current Circumstances. Benrey swallowed. This was fine, they could do this. Hooking their fingers around the waistband of Gordon’s briefs, they pulled them and the pants off in one fell swoop, letting the beast loose. His cute, flushed dick immediately slapped against his stomach, precum leaking into his happy trail. Gordon whined and tried to hide his face in the junction between Dream Benrey’s neck and shoulder.

Benrey’s whole body shook with the stream of rusty Sweet Voice the image before him coaxed out. It doused the whole room in a faint cinnamon glow. Excellent mood lighting, but incredibly embarrassing for Benrey. Gordon’s face, as always when Benrey sang, was awestruck. Really endearing, they thought, but also far too vulnerable. They needed to distract from all that, stat. Luckily, there was an unsucked cock in front of him, and he knew exactly what to do with that. While Gordon was preoccupied with watching the light show, probably trying out little rhymes in his head, Benrey plopped down onto their chest. Propped up by their elbows, they dragged their tongue up his length with an obscene slurp . Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Fuck, man! Ngh- no warning?”

“Sorry. You were too busy uh, ballgazing. At my orbs. Pay more attention next time, babe.” Gordon nearly choked at that. Nice. “So uh, do you want me to lick your shit or do you wanna go to the Christmas section at Walmart. Your choice, friend.”

“Hrgh- fine.”

“Huh?”

“I said fine!” Gordon snapped, but there was no venom behind it.

“Whuh?” Benrey smirked.

“Please,” Gordon groaned, “suck my dick, Benrey. Please.”

“That’s the shit, bro,” Benrey praised, finally getting that cock in his mouth. It was all pretty overwhelming on the senses. They had a hard time taking in every little detail– Gordon’s musky scent, his adorable curly pubes, the thigh hair brushing against their arms– like they wanted. They never were great at multitasking. Not to mention the sounds. Jesus, Gordon was loud. If those moans were any indicator, then Benrey was doing a good job, all things considered. He just kept bucking his hips and thrashing around too, which was obviously insanely hot, but they needed him still so they could actually focus. Benrey locked his arms around Gordon’s fat thighs and drew his mouth off his dick with a slick pop . “Chill out. Can’t- can’t vacuum up a dick that’s running all over the place.” Gordon just panted out something incoherent. “Got you held down now. Check it.”

Far more measured than last time, Benrey used their unsettlingly long tongue to guide Gordon back down their throat. Gordon keened, arching his pretty back as far as he could manage with Dream Benrey holding him. Benrey felt his thigh muscles tense on either side of his head. Hell yeah. They got a good rhythm going after that , alternating between twirling their tongue around Gordon’s dick and poking the back of their throat with it. It was, frankly, sloppy. Nobody seemed to mind all that much.

Gordon started to get more erratic, legs and arms scrambling to get any purchase to fuck into Benrey’s mouth. “Ben-ruh-ey! I- fuck, man- I, I’m gonna come if you- haaah…”

The alien dragged their head off Gordon reluctantly. They knew they must look like a mess, catching their breath and grabbing Gordon’s cock at the base, just tight enough to hurt. He whined. “Alright,” Benrey croaked, “not done yet though. Taste so good, bro, could cook you up and eat you.” They let go of his soaked cock to manhandle him into a better position, nose brushing against his balls. Gordon didn’t have the time or mental faculties to ask Benrey what they were doing until he felt something warm and wet dragging against his hole.

“Oh my God,” Gordon whispered incredulously, shivering. “Fucking… gross, Benrey, oh my God…”

“Yeah right,” Dream Benrey chided, “You’re the real gross one for liking it, whore. Whoredon Freakman. So nasty, you like it so bad, don’t you?”

It’s really not that nasty, Benrey thought, tongue buried firmly in Gordon’s ass. They were having a great time. They were practically as close to Gordon as they could ever be, and it was driving them crazy. Gordon was so human from this angle. Benrey drank in the smell of it all. Sweat, sex, the blood rushing through him, it was intoxicating. Benrey just laid there for God knows how long, lapping at Gordon’s hole and getting high on Freeman. Their trance was only broken by a choking sound. Drawing back, they saw Dream Benrey shoving its fingers in Gordon’s mouth. His subconscious must’ve been getting antsy. Okay. Okay. Time to grow some balls and finally ram this dude.

Gordon followed Benrey with his eyes carefully. They settled on their knees, scooting close enough to let their dick rest against his thigh. A wave of anxiety washed over them. This whole time, it didn’t feel as real as it did now. Was it real, technically? Was Gordon gonna wake up and be pissed at himself for letting Benrey do this to him?

Sensing their trepidation, Gordon shooed Dream Benrey’s fingers out of his mouth. “Hey,” he began, pausing to clear his throat. “Y-you can back out if you want, man. It’s okay. I… know you’re real, now.” He thought for a moment, then offered his right hand to Benrey. They took it hesitantly, and Gordon rubbed their hand gently with his thumb. “I don’t mind, seriously. I’m– I know I’m gonna have a crisis about it in the morning, but that’s what weekends are for. Okay?” He smiled, and Benrey felt like they could get lost in his face, the way it wrinkled when he grinned like that. They turned their head and coughed out some pink and blue Sweet Voice, gripping Gordon’s hand tightly. He chuckled, and their cock twitched.

“Okay,” Benrey turned back to Gordon, who was awash in a sweet purple glow. “Sounds, uh, good. I’m gonna… gonna freak it.” They lined themself up and pushed in carefully, causing Gordon to throw his head back and groan. There were no words for how intense the feeling of finally getting inside him was, it made Benrey nearly double over and bust in 0.2 seconds like some chump. Focusing harder than they ever had in their whole life, they kept pushing until they were buried to the hilt. There was no way they were going to last long at all. They only remembered that their hand was still intertwined with Gordon’s when he squeezed back at their vise grip. Right. Chill out. Breathe a sec.

“C’mon, bro,” Dream Benrey rasped, “give it to ‘im. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Whatever, dickwad,” Benrey grunted. Still, he began to move. Whatever Heaven had going on, it was no match for this. Gordon was tight and slick and making noises Benrey never could’ve imagined in even their most embarrassing fantasies. They should’ve known Gordon would be as loud in bed as he was anywhere else. Maybe it was just the safety of the dreamscape that allowed him to sound so unabashedly wrecked like this. Maybe it was just how Benrey made him feel. “Fffuck, holy shit,” they sang out some rust. “So good, you’re- hah- perfect,” they sped up, but tried with all their might not to hump Gordon like a crazed rabbit.

Dream Benrey grabbed Gordon’s hair, knocking a swear out of him. Its voice joined the maddening chorus of moans and shitty bedfame creaks. “That’s it, Gords. Look at you. So fuckin’, uh… such a good fucktoy. Your poor cock, look at it, it’s all red and crying. I bet you could come without Benny Boy even touching it. You want that?” Gordon groaned incomprehensibly, belly bouncing back and forth with the increasing force of Benrey’s thrusts. Dream Benrey’s grip tightened. “You want it? Tell us what you want or we’re leaving.”

There’s no way this is what Gordon thinks I talk like, Benrey thought deliriously.

“I wuh- I want you guys to kiss!”

Benrey stilled. Gordon seemed to actually register what he said a tad too late, eyes widening. “God damn it,” he muttered, throwing an arm over his beet-red face. Even Dream Benrey seemed caught off-guard. Its shock was short-lived though, and it dragged its gaze to Benrey, mouth splitting into a sharp-toothed grin. Benrey licked their lips instinctively.

Benrey, at this point, was quite frankly out of his mind. This was so much more than he thought he could ever have. Surely he had died and was now in eternal paradise. He couldn’t hold on to a single thought to save his life. Gordon could tell him to bite his own arms off right now and he would do it with no hesitation. It only took one more second of Benrey’s brain rebooting for them to let go of Gordon and dive in to kiss their shitty fake dream self. They gripped its massive shoulders and made a serious effort to throatfuck this bitch with their tongue. It growled and sunk its claws into their biceps, which just spurred them on. Benrey let their hips move again.

Gordon couldn’t exactly get a great view of the Freudian nightmare of a makeout sesh above him, but the shitty angle didn’t really matter. This was quite possibly the most humiliating kink awakening he’d had since the whole piss thing. Distantly, between the hard cock tearing apart his insides, the slightly dangerously firm grip on his scalp, and the commotion before him, Gordon realized he actually would come like this. He barked out a strained “Stop!” which the two Benreys, lips bloodied and wet, immediately and reverently obeyed. A line of spit and dark purple Sweet Voice hung between them, which Benrey broke by swiping a hand over their mouth. Gordon gulped.

“I want. What you suggested earlier. Now. Please.”

“Whuh?” Both Benreys said in unison.

“Spitroast me, jackasses!”

“Yes sir,” Benrey breathed out. “Got it. You. Flip over please,” they slurred while pulling out with an obscene sound. “The- the flop.”

Gordon decided to ignore whatever Benrey was rambling about. Ass really made them stupid, more than usual. Gordon filed that knowledge away for later experimentation. He obeyed their request, situating himself on his elbows and knees. Dream Benrey barely had to move to get its dick all up in Gordon’s face. That thing was… it was going to be a challenge. He could handle it though. His poor throat had experienced a lot today, it could make it through the finale. Gordon turned his head as far as he could to get a look at the real Benrey, just in time to see them lean down to plant a little kiss on his asscheek. He snorted. “Really dude?” They flinched for a second, like Gordon just knocked them out of a trance.

“Hey, that was a private moment. Rude,” Benrey grumbled, rising onto their knees and lining themself up with Gordon’s hole again. “You’ll never understand our love, jeez…”

Gordon’s laugh broke into a moan once Benrey bucked back into him. They wasted no time establishing a brutal pace. Gordon could hear their chest heaving. Dream Benrey manipulated his head roughly to face its dick again. “Been waiting the whole fuckin’ time for this,” it grumbled. “Open up,” it ordered, slapping its cock against Gordon’s jaw. Who was he to disobey? He squeezed his thumb and opened up, just as he was told.

Benrey, after no time at all, was nearing his limit. The catalyst was Gordon letting his throat get absolutely wrecked by Benrey’s fucked up dream clone. They were right; Gordon did know how to suck and by God did he do it well. The confirmation of their off-handed remark from way back was too much to handle. “Gordon,” they gasped, “I’m- can’t do this man, I’m gonna-”

Gordon slapped Dream Benrey’s thighs a couple times, letting it know to stop so he could pull himself off. “Do it,” he croaked, voice absolutely destroyed, “come inside, p-please.”

That was it for Benrey. They were sure they were on the verge of a heart attack, and before today they weren’t even sure if that was possible. They fell forward, slightly crushing Gordon, holding themself up with one shaky arm. The other darted to Gordon’s dick, which they tugged at erratically. Gordon nearly screamed with the intensity of Benrey’s thrusts coupled with the stimulation to his neglected dick. The whole affair was a noise complaint waiting to happen, thank God it was a dream. With stuttering hips and a broken moan, Benrey finally hit their peak. The hand between Gordon’s legs didn’t stop for a second as they let go inside of him. Gordon couldn’t handle it either. In a flash, Benrey wrung the most intense orgasm of Gordon’s life out of him, and then immediately crushed him with their entire weight. It was comfortable (so much so that Gordon didn’t even question the sudden disappearance of Dream Benrey) up until Gordon regained consciousness and realized he was suffocating. He reached behind him and shook Benrey, causing them to roll over and settle next to him instead.

The two laid there for a short eternity, catching their breaths. Gordon was still on his front, head turned to the side. Blurrily, he could see Benrey looking back at him. Their eyes were lidded, but their pupils were blown wide, nearly completely obscuring their scleras, and their mouth hung open, pink and blue Sweet Voice drifting lazily out. Right, his glasses. Gotta find those. With great effort, he sat up and spotted his frames by the pillow he got crushed on. When he put them back on, Benrey’s face was normal again. It made Gordon smile fondly. “What’s pink to blue mean?” he asked, just to tease them. They coughed, looking away at the ceiling.

“Mean.”

Gordon nearly cackled, feeling more than a little hysterical. “I’m so nice to you, dude!” With his eyesight restored, he flopped back down, draping half of himself over Benrey. They were nice to grab. The two just breathed for a moment. Gordon hadn’t felt that calm in God knows how long.

“Sorry.”

Gordon opened his eyes, which he didn’t even realize he had closed. “What?”

“Messed up the whole dream. Big guy didn’t even get to come, I made you nut your brains out so hard he disappeared.”

“What, dude?” Gordon snorted. “I don’t care about him, he’s not real. I don’t think you actually feel bad for that thing. What are you sorry about, really?”

Benrey snaked a hand up to Gordon’s arm on their chest. They rubbed at the scar on his forearm. “You’re gonna- gonna wake up and freak out. And you’re gonna regret all this, the stuff we did. Because you have dream brain right now.” They sung a sad note of red and orange Sweet Voice. “Was another bad dream. And it’s my fault. Sorry.”

Gordon’s chest twisted and he frowned in concern. He moved to straddle Benrey, and leaned down close to their face, hands cradling his cheeks. Their eyes did the adorable dilation thing again. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. They nodded quickly.

The two of them kissed again, and though this kiss was less desperate and fervent than the last, it held far more weight. Gordon parted from Benrey after just a moment.

“Benrey,” Gordon began in the most solid voice he could manage, “this was the best dream I’ve had in months. I’ll give it to you, I’m probably gonna freak out when I wake up. You know how I am.” He rubbed his thumb on their cheek, grazing the patches of stubble and dried saliva. “I’m not gonna regret this though. I really do like you, you know. I don’t just let any asshole crash in my apartment.” He gave a soft, delicate smile. “Just this asshole.” He gave one last peck on Benrey’s forehead, then laid back down beside his roommate. He felt their body shudder.

“It means ‘I love you.’”

“I know.”

Gordon woke up that morning with sticky underwear and a growing sense of panic.

Benrey woke up that morning with sticky underwear and plans to cook the best goddamn french toast this side of New Mexico.