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Since Benrey had broken in through his window and crashed on his couch about three months ago, things had been relatively constant, especially the breakfast schedule. O, ye sacred morning ritual; How Gordon cherished thee. Because Benrey was never awake for breakfast. Gordon would walk into the kitchen and hear his cartoonish snoring from the weed-stinking couch as he prepared whatever he had lying around. Usually some variation of an egg and bacon sandwich. While Gordon was without mirth about this obnoxious living arrangement, he wasn’t without heart. He was always sure to keep an extra plate for Benrey before he went to work his soul-crushing dead-end job at the Crumbl cookie shop, with a shift afterwards at Mickey D’s. Being Dr. Freeman–batter specialist, and Dr. Freeman, fry cook– was about the least appetizing job description for his eulogy, so dying wasn’t in his cards about now. All of his coworkers were significantly younger. More heavily, err… armed.
About two hours after Gordon had left for his part timers at wherever he was working, Benrey would rise up from his delightful nap to a plate of room-temperature breakfast right in front of him and a can of still surprisingly cold Monster. Instead of making himself useful by getting a job or even sweeping up a bit, he’d turn on the Playstation that he had absolutely gotten by some form of illegal means that Gordon was still investigating, and rot on the couch for a few hours. Being preoccupied did keep Benrey from having opportunities to incite havoc on the streets and potentially cause the extinction of mankind. At least, Gordon thought he was capable of such a feat. So overall, Benrey being a happy housemate gave Gordon a perplexing peace of mind. And perhaps a more perplexing piece of his mind was getting a little interested in Benrey’s frequent advances. These amicable levels of tolerance were heating up into bothersome, squirmy tensions that were getting difficult to ignore.
It was really a mistake when it happened. Benrey had made a lewd joke, quid pro quo from Gordon. It escalated to gay chicken, and so far, no one had lost. They stepped onto their bases, pitched, caught, ran a few home runs, and then stopped playing an EA’s MLB 09 and fucked animal-style across the whole house. Really, it cannot be understated how frantic and fetid this whole affair was. Gordon managed to extract 27 separate never-before-discovered liquids out of Benrey, and in turn Benrey learned that he could, in fact, handle allat.
After this less than fortunate turn of events, Benrey was as cozy as a kitten in a heated blanket while Gordon was dealing with the post-nut clarity of the century. At least when he made Joshua, he had done it with a human! But there he was, washing his dick of Xen goo. Should he have been proud of conquering his alien nemesis?
Nah. Definitely not. Even with Benrey, that was too gross of a framing method for him. It was nothing more than an impulsive mistake, which would not be repeated.
Saturday morning, some days after the gross alien sex, Gordon woke up earlier than expected. His alarm was at about eight, but it was reading six-thirty. There was something in his living room, letting out grotesque, mucus-y gargles interjected by heavy slurping. Benrey, surely. But this was out of his usual habits. Gordon groped for his glasses and shoved them on, half-hanging off his face as he rushed out to see the commotion. He peeked over the island and saw his roommate hunched over, guzzling down eggs as if they were delicacies of a far-off land. He just bought those damn eggs. Two dozen eggs. Gone like that. With a trickle of yolk clinging to the corner of his lip, Benrey threw his body into the fridge and grabbed the skirt steak that Gordon was marinating for dinner. His fangs sunk into the squelching flesh, then he jerked his head back to shear a hunk of meat off. The marinate splattered across the fridge as he cocked his neck again and swallowed the chunk whole. It was almost too disgusting to comment on. The way his neck distended like a greedy pelican to accommodate his gluttony… unfortunately reminded him of that fateful, desperate night.
Barely illuminated by the fridge light, Benrey’s eyes reflected back as floating green pinpricks, his jaws hanging out from his head as he realized that he hadn’t been as quiet as he thought himself. The less human nature of him faded beneath a thin veneer of posturing, and he paid Gordon mind with a glance, “You’re looking uh, sexy. Round 2? Fight?”
“What? No, not again. The fuck is wrong with you, man? You’re never up this early. Are you–are you eating all our goddamn food?” Benrey shrunk. Gordon didn’t get his paycheck for another week. He knew he was in the shithouse now.
Gordon couldn’t get any closer, not without risking his hands. With a calculated seizure, he nabbed the bowl from Benrey and took a step back in order to preserve his ever so soft and very much edible human flesh, “Bro this was supposed to be dinner! The fuck is wrong with you? Am I just supposed to starve? Huh? You can’t just–”
Could he look like he gave less of a shit? Benrey swiped the bowl back from Gordon and drained the bloody broth from it with a hearty chug, and gulped the rest of the succulent meat. Obviously not satisfied, he then opened the deli drawer in the fridge.
Gordon had been stocking up on meats diligently to adjust to Benrey’s incredible appetite, which didn’t seem to have any end except his ultimate bankruptcy. But this? This was getting ridiculous. As much as Gordon wanted to provide enough food for the both of them, there was a limit to his generosity that ended at the food going into his own mouth.
“Bro, that the fuck?! You know I need to eat too, right?” Gordon tried to push him away, but he got knocked on his ass and onto the floor by a swift shoulder check. It was easy to forget how much stronger Benrey was.
“I’m uh, fucking starving, man. Lay off.” Benrey tore the brand new package of authentic, unsliced bacon that he got directly from the butcher’s shop and tore a hunk of fat off.
“Whatever, man! Fuck me, I guess. It’s not like you haven’t been eating all my goddamn food anyways. Can you at least pass me my fruit salad so I can have something to eat?”
“Yeah whatever.” Benrey beamed the plastic container into Gordon’s face right as he stood up, forcing him onto the floor again.
“Fuck you man. You better contribute to your fucking food bill or you’re out of the apartment! Got it? I’m not feeding a… parasite!” Was this stupid alien even listening? All he was doing was eating, and Benrey was a small guy! How was he eating this much? Why now? He was probably just being an asshole and wanted to push his buttons! Why else would Benrey do that?
As he sat on the couch and listened to the slurping, he came under the grim realization that he wasn’t stopping any time soon. He could hear all that wet chewing and sopping no matter how high he put the volume on the TV. Goddammit. What a disgusting alien! What an unlivable situation.
His better angels ate at his thoughts, hearing the distant ravaging. Benrey must’ve been very, very hungry. A kind of hunger Gordon couldn’t know. Maybe it was mating season for his species, or maybe there’s a season of famine akin to Winter. There had to be a better way than to just… get angry at him for something he couldn’t control. They had been there before. It didn’t work out.
Gordon started going to the butcher’s shop for cuttings to feed Benrey, and cheap organ meats like tripe and chicken feet. The kind of food people would grind up into dog kibble. Or hotdogs. Which Benrey sucked down like a starved wolf. And Gordon was noticing changes to his body. Was he getting fat? It was kind of hard to tell. But Benrey’s coloration had become more dull since the last time he shed his skin, leaving him even more ghoulish. After watching Benrey polish off his own skin gleefully for a rather disturbing snack, Gordon noted the quality of his scales, the slight iridescence they had when in sunlight, and the little patches of pebbled turquoise he appreciated had dimmed into a ‘Black Mesa corridor grey’. Something in his body changed. Maybe an illness.
As for the expected result of such a peculiar diet, Gordon didn’t notice Benrey ever really gaining any weight at all. Just eating and maintaining himself. Maybe he was a bit swollen in the stomach but… He was probably just constantly bloated from all that meat. Any extra weight would be noticeable due to how lithe he was.
After one of these meat binges he laid down on the couch next to Gordon as he played through Kane and Lynch 2: Dog Days for the fifth time that year. Benrey couldn’t stand this game. Gordon could feel him shifting on the couch and letting out pathetic groans as he tossed and turned, grabbing his stomach as he made himself into a Benrey burrito in one of the blankets.
This was officially weird. And then he started bellowing as he rolled and gripped his abdomen. Must’ve been one hell of a tummy-ache. “Serves you right, Ben. That’s what you get for eating all that food.”
Benrey’s screams eclipsed the chastising. Like the rising trills of a terrified cicada, the noise he produced was persistent, sustained, and so fucking loud. Gordon put his hands on his ears as his freaky alien roommate made fucking bug mating calls right next to him while gripping his guts.
“Owwwww hurting. I’m dyingggg oughh…” Benrey whined and kicked his feet around.
“You have indigestion, asshole.” Gordon slapped his hand over Benrey’s mouth. He can’t believe he slept with this guy last week. Biggest mistake of his life, “Eat fiber or something you freak.”
“No. Don’t wanna. Sucks hard. Sucks so bad!” He let out strained balls of orange sweet voice that bounced around the couch before dissipating. The writhing stopped for a second as he stared at Gordon, and his eyes suddenly dilated.
Gordon knew what that meant, “Wait no no no–”
Benrey pounced on him and sunk his teeth into his shoulder, drawing a little bit of blood as he dragged him off their couch and shook him around as he flailed in his grip. Not satisfied yet, he shapeshifted two more hands to hold him down with, peppering him in harsh bites with his pharyngeal jaws, which emerged from a bright blue tubule-sheathe and pierced through Gordon’s hoodie. The bites were gentle. By Benrey standards. He was still penetrating Gordon’s skin and hurting him.
“Stop! Stop! What the fuck is wrong with you, you monster! I knew it was a matter of time before you ate me, you piece of shit!” Gordon tried to claw away, and was pulled back into Benrey as he perched his feet on his ass cheeks and pinned him by the wrists. And then he lowered his head down to Gordon’s ear, jaws retracting into his distended neck with a mucus-y purr. The gargle trilled up into a happy little ditty of pink sweet voice, and he flopped over on his side, digging his head into Gordon’s shoulder. Hugging him like he hadn’t just bitten the ever loving shit out of him.
Gordon was gasping for breath, in so much pain that he wasn’t able to flee. As he squirmed the two locked eyes. Gordon’s lips were pulled back in fear, baring his teeth and dilated pupils. Benrey stared back with his yellow sclera consumed by his pupils. Like an affectionate cat, he slow-blinked at him, then proceeded to let out a drawn-out belch. Smelled like bacon. Gordon let out a lamenting wail, finding the strength and energy to wave in front of his face, “Why?!”
“Sorry. Excuse me.” Benrey kissed him on the cheek and stared at him like he was the first apple of the harvest.
“You just attacked me!” Gordon’s nose twitched, and he blew the air back at Benrey to spare himself another whiff.
Huh. That was kind of weird. It just felt right to do that. Benrey let him go and peeled himself away, “Yeah made sense to just… You know.”
“Get out of here! Go to your fucking room I don’t want to see you here at all! Don’t fucking talk to me.”
“Sheesh. Okay loser.” Benrey stood up, and the rippling pain in his abdomen made him double over. He slunk over to his room while Gordon took his shirt off to assess the damage Benrey managed to do while ‘playing’ with him.
Gordon was giving him something worse than the silent treatment. He would make breakfast for himself, go to work, and come home just to lock himself in his room. Nothing that Benrey said could make him loosen up. And, well, he was missing his buddy. That touchy nerd made life worth living. Buying his own food and eating it all that night was getting boring. No point in eating dinner by himself. While Gordon was out, he’d hop into his room and look at his sliding mirror-wardrobe to see his own body. And it was official; He was getting fat. But not fat the way Gordon was. Gordon had soft fat that hung low. It was warm and comfortable. He cherished his fat and being able to lay his head down on his thigh and get patted on the head. That was good!
This was different. Benrey’s body felt more like a lightly filled water-balloon. His skin had give but he could feel these unusual lumps pushing back on him. Huh, he’d never had that happen in the past. This shirt was normally loose on him. The past two weeks were leaving him with a quivering mixture of fear and powerlessness. Sure he was eating a lot. He always ate a lot. But it was so out of his control! Like there was no way he could stop himself.
Worst of all, Gordon didn’t want to even look at him. And Benrey? His feelings on him were complicated now. Instinct to attack and attract were inscribed in his bones it seemed.
Was this the work of some kind of parasite? He felt his bloated stomach, and remembered watching Aliens for the first time with Gordon, and how he shrieked at the chestbursters. Maybe he had something similar in his home environment that just… wasn’t clicking with him. But one thing was certain; this could not continue. Not the way it was going, it couldn’t.
There was one man in the whole world who would have been considered an expert in Benrey; Tommy. He pulled out his phone and took a deep breath, realizing now that integrity was going to be the only way to honestly reach a diagnosis, and Benrey hated analysis. Years of being prodded for novel behaviors would certainly leave a bad taste in the mouth of even the most tolerant creature. Benrey was certainly some kind of tolerant.
Tommy always picked up before the end of the first ring. Good work ethic was bred into his manners. And seeing a call from a friend like Benrey was like a full moon on Halloween night!
“Hi!” He rasped through the phone. He sounded like he was somewhere quite crowded. Tommy had mentioned something about this a while ago–Networking with his dad was taking up most of his days.
“Yo… Tommy… I um,” Benrey cringed and sucked in a breath for the courage needed to admit his gay problems, “I’m having some uh, health concerns. Can you uh, dip into the bathroom?”
“D-Dad I’m sorry, I have to take this. I’ll be ba–be back!” The noise faded, and a door slammed, “Okay Benrey, what’s the matter?”
“So uh, you won’t laugh at me, right?”
“I don’t laugh at you.”
“Oh right. I forgot. Um, I’ve been getting kind of fat.”
“That’s normal Benrey! Now that you’re living in a domestic life with access to lots of–lots of tasty food you might notice yourself changing!”
“No um, the past two weeks I’ve been pounding steaks crazy style. Like… I cannot get enough of Gordon’s meat in my belly. He said he bought enough for two months last week and I ate it by like, Tuesday. It’s fuckin uh, annoying. And weird.”
“... Have you noticed worms in your–”
“Eww. No… It won’t be parasites, right?” Please no chestbursters please no chestbursters.
“Are you stressed?”
“I’m stressed uh, about the change.” Benrey opened up the carton of eggs he had on the side and swallowed one down, “Eating eggs right now though.”
“Okay. Um, what else have you noticed?” Benrey could hear the eyebrow cock on the other end. Although childish, Tommy’s infantile tendencies were only surpassed by his commendable understanding of diagnostic procedure, “behavior changes, physical changes.”
“Yeah uh, lost some color, bloated in my tum tum, and it hurts like a FUCK. I’m aggressive to Gordon like I just can’t help biting him and pinning him. But then I wanna cuddle n’ lick him and just be held right after. Don’t wanna eat junk food, just meat.”
“Benrey, did you recently engage in…” Tommy lowered his voice, “sexual activity?”
“I uh, hatefucked Gordon right before this. Did he give me an STD?”
Tommy snapped his fingers, “Congratulations! You’re–You’re pregnant!”
Benrey spat out his egg, all over his chest as he laid on Gordon’s bed, “WHAT?! Gordon got me WHAT?!”
“Y–Yeah! You’re… you’re showing all the hallmarks of being gravid! You’re building up energy to make your eggs! And–And you’re wanting to snuggle and attacking Gordon to goad him into mating!”
“I am!? I thought I was just playful I didn’t mean to do that to him, fuck. I’m bad. I’m baaad. Worst roommate ever. Wouldn’t be a problem if he just uh, bred me.”
“Your hormones are out of wack! You were probably inactive for so long that now your body is kickstarting all of its sexual functions again for a breeding season. You probably are meant to—to mate with a lot of others of your species like a cat.”
“Dude I didn’t even know I was a uh, lesbian or something.”
“The diagram of your organs I sent you has your testes and ovaries labelled for you.”
“Yeah I threw it away.”
“Um, well… Okay. You’re probably just kickstarting a delayed breeding season after being isolated and malnourished in–in captivity! Or you’re just having your one breeding event now and you’ll–you’ll die after.”
“... Wait hold up repeat that… that last part?” Benrey choked on another egg, “I might die?!”
“Um. You’re probably not semelparous? It’s hard to say. Semelparous creatures don’t usually live that long. Um, but your life might be extended by avoiding a breeding event–but! But! You uh, good news! Semelparous organisms tend to make lots of small offspring!”
“Tommy you are not helping.”
“Sorry. Um. But if you’re iteroparous you’ll–you’ll make few offspring every breeding event, but have multiple breeding events throughout your life. Your species probably exist close to the K-capacity in a smaller niche. I find it hard to believe you’re an r-selection species. Those live in crowded niches that require uh, rapid reproduction due to an un-unpredictable environment. Organisms with K-selection reproduction have smaller broods and spend a lot more time with them. Which one sounds more like you?”
“Bro he took my virginity.”
“Oh, um… I’m sure you’re iteroparous! You’re too big to be semelparous!”
“Hnng,” Benrey held his face in his hands, “I had sex and now I’m gonna die! Tommy, why didn’t you tell me this could happen! You suck so hard right now!”
“I–I wasn’t going to talk to you about the birds and the bees, Benrey! You already knew about them!”
“Ugh. Whatever. I’m uh. I don’t care. Won’t be able to play Half-Life 3. Doesn’t fucking matter. Bye.” Benrey kissed the phone and hung up, and rolled around Gordon’s bed to take in his scent… And spread the raw egg mucus everywhere.
It wasn’t to be weird. Benrey didn’t want to be weird now that he knew he was instinctually goading Gordon into mating with him again. That made him feel skeezy as fuck. Rather, if he died, he wanted to die remembering his smell, assuming Gordon wouldn’t talk to him ever again.
Hmm, maybe there was a way to fix that…
Gordon came home to Benrey holding a cake that said ‘Sorry for Farty Rockin’’ on it. That was certainly something. Knowing that this was a Benrey Way to apologize, he gestured to the dining room table and sat down. With the heart cake now on display and ready to be cut into at any time, Benrey watched Gordon with blown out pupils, eagerly anticipating (and fearing) his reaction.
Gordon took a deep breath in and exhaled to prepare himself for an infuriating conversation, “Okay. Benrey, what the fuck has been going on with you?”
“You got me uh, eggnant.” Benrey leaned back and pulled his shirt over his stomach, accentuating its size.
“Pregnant?” Again?
“Eggnant.”
“Fuck, not again!” Gordon threw his hands up, and then buried them in his face, “Ughhhhh not with you. Anyone but you. That was a goddamn mistake! Now your devil piranha children are going to eat me!”
“No uh. They um, won’t. So uh, what now?”
“Goddammit Benrey. I don’t want more kids. You need to abort them or something, I don’t know. Let me kick you in the guts.”
“No! We can abort them after laying!” Benrey hissed and gripped his ailment, “I’m not uh, feeling well. M’sorry for uh, biting you… Um, don’t be mad at me for saying this?”
“I have a feeling if you need to preface it by asking me to not be mad, that I will in fact be mad.”
“Well um, Tommy said that uh, when I bit you and cuddled, I was trying to goad you into mating with me more. Um… sorry. Didn’t know. It was uh, all instinct. I wouldn’t want to… to goad you. Made it clear you didn’t want a rematch.”
“Okay. That’s creepy. But if you truly didn’t know what was going on, I’m giving you grace. This is just… unprecedented! Yeah.” Gordon was very obviously bridling his anger, and Benrey was practically pinned to the table. He was trying to submissively lower his head, but it looked more like he was begging with his big, stupid kitty cat eyes.
“Thank you.” Benrey nodded, and then turned over in his seat so the back of his head would slam into the counter. He splayed his legs out and groaned, “Ough, hurt. Hungry. Life is a pair of socks.”
God, he was so pathetic. The hatred in Gordon’s heart sort of… dissipated seeing just how pained he was, and how vulnerable his state could be. Being pregnant was pretty dire, wasn’t it? Yelling at him wouldn’t do any good. This was an emergency, but Benrey was keen on an abortion, and as long as Gordon wasn’t raising his demonspawn, they could work things out.
“Paradox,” Gordon gave his hair a little ruffle, eliciting a deep, chesty purr from him, “It’s sort of my responsibility I guess. I did, you know, initiate.”
“Ough you got me soooo eggnant.”
“Don’t,” Gordon wheezed, “Don’t say it like that. It was spite sex. Nothing special. But we are friends. I’ll help you get comfortable since going to a doctor is kind of out of the question.”
“Fuck yeah. Friends are awesome.” Benrey crawled over the table and pushed the cake off, planting a fat kiss on Gordon’s cheek, “Love you.”
“Sappy ass alien.” Gordon gestured to the couch, “Get comfortable. I’m going to get some groceries, then schedule some orders for you so that you always have meats and eggs coming in to help those little ones get ready for their abortion. Okay?”
“Gordon you’re like, cool. I guess.” Benrey flopped over on the couch and let out a huge sweet voice yawn. He had a thought, then called out, “Can I make a request?”
“Sure. What’re you hankering for?” Gordon grabbed some of their reusable shopping totes and hung them on his handless arm.
“I NEED a huge bucket of KFC. All to myself. Fried chicken seems so so good right now.”
“Got it, man. I’m stocking up the fridge too. Want any pumpkin spice stuff? I know you like the muffins they have at the store.”
“I always wanted to try a Thanksgiving in a can please sirrrrr, and uh, some pumpkin muffins please, sirrrr thank you sirrrr.” Benrey remained rather subdued in spite of his usual weirdness, and graciously left the room to lay down on the couch and have a nap. With all the eggs he was likely to lay, he needed the rest.
Benrey really did kill the bucket by himself. He sucked the bones completely clean using his freaky serrated tongue, and sat back on the couch with a mostly pleased look to him. Benrey liked his button ups, but Gordon was going to share a wardrobe with him for the foreseeable future, since walking around with one’s gut poking out from under their shirt was generally accepted to be demeaning. It was a dignity thing to wear fitting clothes. Benrey was perfectly content to sit back and watch some MST3K with Gordon for the time being.
“Needed that, man. It like, gave me the energy to persist or some stupid shit.” Benrey thumped his chest to push out a pesky burp that was hanging out in his stomach, “Rating?”
“My rating is I can’t believe I got you pregnant out of ten.”
“Oo, that means it’s uh, potent. Good.” Benrey licked his lips, “Supercharging the eggs on the Colonel’s finest.”
Gordon snorted and playfully slapped him, “You’re so fucking weird, man.”
As they settled in for some bad movies and a nap, Gordon was sure to tend to Benrey’s needs the way he had for Joshua’s mother before he was born. Whether he liked it or not, he screwed Benrey and screwed up. Might as well own it until he could pop those suckers out and they could dehydrate them in a salt bath or smash them with hammers or something.
Uh, well, Gordon hadn’t thought about it, but for how long was Benrey going to be pregnant? It was November now. Surely he would lay his eggs fast enough that no one else would see him in his state, right? They could get through the Christmas party without everyone knowing he fucked Benrey… right?
Gordon wasn’t quite sure when he had fallen asleep on the couch, but when he woke up, he was met with a heaviness against his body. Not a crushing weight, no. That pleasant, warm weight of a couple of cats on his–Benrey. There was a Benrey on his lap, purring and gripping onto him with a delightful look on his face. Eyes closed, smiling, little jagged fangs showing out from his lips. The picture of serenity was sitting upon his lap.
Normally, Gordon would have shoved him off. He was tempted to, but the poor guy was full of eggs. The pain he’d feel being thrown on the floor was unimaginable. Rather than indulge himself the pleasure of kicking around that pregnant man, he nudged him on the chin. His eyelids opened, revealing a murky nictitating membrane that peeled back with a squelch, taking with it strings of thick mucus. His pupil engorged from a frail slit upon seeing Gordon’s face looking back at him.
“I’m uh, gonna get up. Can you–”
“Five more minutes please and thank you?” Benrey buried his face back in Gordon’s chest.
“I’m gonna piss my pants. I drank a huge soda, dude.” Of course Benrey wasn’t cooperating. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t amused. Said amusement was quickly turning to resentment the longer he was kept with his bladder full.
“Aww, man.” Benrey rolled off and womped into the sofa cushions, “What time is it?”
Huh, good question. How long were they out for? The phone said it was six in the morning… Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, cuddling together with his pregnant alien frenemy. That he impregnated. Sparing himself another thought of what he had done, he left for the bathroom and a cold shower to focus his thoughts, leaving Benrey to fend for himself.
Tommy’s words were sticking with him. He’s probably not semelparous. But what if he was? He grazed his hand over the face of his belly, feeling the manifestation of the energy stolen from him swirling in his guts like a cauldron of slime. One of his hands reached out into the air, and he felt its heft tenfold. They were taking his strength. God, is that what happens to all creatures? Or just the ones that die right after giving their spawn just enough energy to persist. Little parasites! Evil, squirming worms! Draining his health and stamina!
It was always the possibility that he could drive his claws through his own stomach and pull them out of his guts before they took hold. It would kill him; At least on his own terms. But what if he was iteroparous? He’d live to spawn another year, and another, and another! This weakness, hunger, the uncomfortableness of feeling his skin stretch out and his organs get pushed up in his abdominal cavity would be recurring.
He didn’t want to die just when Gordon was being kind to him, and starting to accept him in his mating rituals. Well, at least... Gordon was actually feeding him, and letting him sleep next to him. And touch him. And talk to him without groaning or finding it laborious. Did he really have to give up his future? His vitelline glands and his ovaries? Just to be tolerated?
Maybe that’s how it worked with humans.
Suspecting that Gordon was doing a bit more than taking a quick piss, Benrey peeled himself off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen, still clutching his guts. Fuck, he could feel everything moving inside of him. His vision was getting bleary, his limbs weaker. He housed a bucket of KFC last night and he felt simultaneously full and hollow inside. Food just wasn’t filling him anymore. But he was still stuffed up with all these unwanted eggs…
He’s been constipated for a week, too. Weak! Lame!
Well, there was a hungering in him. And he was going to eat. He took out the replacement bacon that Gordon had gotten explicitly for himself. Labelled ‘Benrey, do not touch’, and tore the packaging open. Fuck Gordon! HE was Eggnant, not him!
Gordon came out of the shower fresh and ready for–Okay and Benrey was sprawled out on the kitchen counter with a half-eaten ham on his chest, leaking ham juices all over him. And he was profusely panting and drooling like a dog. Lovely, very classy. On top of all of this the motherfucker had the sticky note that Gordon wrote to him on the side of his mouth, ink leaking from all the saliva. This was a portrait of some kind of suffering, though Gordon didn’t know what exactly.
Any rage in him melted pretty quick when he saw the pained grimace on his face. An uncertainty he knew well.
“Yo, uh, Gordos. Back from taking a shit?”
“I was showering?” Gordon had a half-truth in his corner.
“Must’ve been a hell of a shit. Um.” Benrey paused and smacked his lips, “Sorry. Eating for uh… A swarm. Right now, hnng.” Benrey tried to sit up on the counter, and sort of gave up when he realized how much it would take out of him. It was as if the energy in his arms had instantly left as he moved them.
“Don’t… Don’t move. You’re fine. I get that you uh, have cravings, and stuff. But fuck dude my bacon? I like–I fucking love bacon. I even get the big slabs from the butchers because…Ugh.” Gordon swept his hands over his wet hair and let out a sigh, “I hope the maggots like bacon, too.”
This was… uncharacteristically nice of Gordon! Benrey let out a phlegmy purr and set aside the comically large ham Gordon had bought. That was actually for Benrey. “I uh, I bet they do cause I was just… zeroed in on it. I don’t um, like it so much. I don’t think.”
Were these things changing his tastes as well? Raw meat was okay, but he much preferred it cooked. And he liked all sorts of fruits and chips and chocolates too. Now he just wanted the meat.
As if Gordon was reading his mind, he said, “Cravings make you do weird shit. My ex used to make this weird concoction. She’d make these bizarre food mixes she’d have never eaten otherwise. I mean these heavy, gross meals. Chicken and waffles with chocolate syrup with a tuna sandwich loaded with her special ‘sweet mayo’ made with marshmallows became a staple.”
“Yeaugh. You kissed her?”
“Yup.”
“Gross, Gordon. You’re gross.” Benrey would totally eat that, actually.
“Whatever, man. Gonna finish the ham?”
“Um, no. I uh… Gordon? Are you just being nice to me because uh, because you got me preggers?”
“That’s… a loaded question that I don’t–”
“Because I’m… I don’t want you to just be nice cause I’m carrying these things we’re gonna stomp like–like grapes. Cause I like you a lot and–”
“I know Benrey. I kind of, sort of… you know?”
“Know what?”
“What?”
“Chicken butt. Um. Know what about huh?”
“I mean like, fuckin’, you’re infuriating. I hate you. But I kind of like you. I guess. There’s a lot of resentment.”
“You’ve been nicer. I like it when you’re nicer. Can we be nicer even after I uh, take my egg dump?”
“Why do you talk like that? I mean, yeah, sure. If you’re nice, I’ll be nice. How about it?”
“Yo, I think our friendship meter just went up!”
“I bet it did. Let me uh, get you down from there uhhh… shit.” Gordon grabbed the ham and shoved it back into the fridge. It was covered in glops of spit and sweet voice. The hell did he agree to when Benrey came in with big wet eyes and a quivering lip on his doorstep? Stupid fucking alien.
Seeing that Benrey was drenched in spit, and he was continuing to produce copious amounts while he panted on the counter, Gordon made the most rational decision he could, which was to set up a couple of desk fans around the couch, clean Benrey up a bit by giving him a new shirt and wiping him down with paper towels, and then bringing him to the sofa.
Something about clinging to Gordon made Benrey feel safer. No matter what kind of reproductive type he had, he at least got to spend the time with Gordon.
But what if that hurt Gordon too? The growth hadn’t stopped. It was December now. Even in the desert, there was a stiff breeze outside that offset a bit of that incessant summer sun. He had engorged further with eggs. His brood was healthy. Large. It was killing him. Back hurt. He wished he had the energy to shapeshift again. Maybe into a Gonarch. Every position he was in, he was uncomfortable. He was always undulating his body, wriggling and trying to find any kind of comfort at all. In every position, he always felt like he had a ton of pressure on his guts. His teeth were always bared, because the vulnerability was creeping on him.
In spite of trying to bite back his noises, Benrey wound up spewing out some sable Sweet Voice in a screechy tune. It ended off in a pathetic little whimper, and he tugged the covers away from Gordon. Feeling the lack of his duvet in his overly air-conditioned house, Gordon stretched and yawned.
“C’mon man… the covers?” Gordon wriggled under the covers with him, full on spooning Benrey, “You don’t feel good?”
“Just… Need to go back to sleep. Gonna go to the couch.”
Benrey slipped out of the bed and looked down at himself. And all he saw were the bulbous protrusions in his stomach, like tumors, that were stealing his strength. Yeaugh. He didn’t wait up for Gordon and just flopped out of the room and onto the couch. A little bit of movement, and he was already exhausted. At least it had winded him enough to sleep again.
Was his body his own anymore? His hand swept over the face of his belly. It had been oddly perspiring the past few days. Leaking beads of blue ichor that stank deeply of blood and birth. The same scent he would have when he preyed upon a newborn houndeye and its broodmother. He tried to stand, and as he did his skin tightened against his belly, stretching it out as little bulbs protruded out of his gut. Hypodermic needles pierced its face, clawing for an opening with the urgency of a hatchling breaking through its shell. Benrey gasped and pushed the needles back in with his hand, putting his hands over the tears forming at the seams of his abdomen.
From the space where his belly protruded from under his ribcage down to his pelvis, his gun split in half, tearing open like a pair of jaws and belching forth a slurry of sharp beaked maggots still half-stuck within their eggs. The mucus took seconds to settle in and mix in gleaming streaks with his blood, leaving it bile green and crimson like deathly phlegm. His vision blurred. Flakes of epidermis fell into the swirling mush as it coagulated. The maggots chirped at him. Waiting for his instincts to kick in. Instinct to do what? What could he do? The blood wasn’t stopping. He was gushing. The pain was so intense it had left him paralyzed. He could do nothing but shriek. His knees were weak and knobby. He collapsed, splashing in his own mucus and vomit. The constricting ooze dried thickly on him. Smelled like birth and yolk. Everything was out of focus. He could feel the hungry mouths of little grubs digging into his belly as his organs slacked out.
His last purpose in life was to be eaten. He squirmed and cried. Nothing could be done. There was no running. No fighting back when he couldn’t see. He was compelled to lay and bray, and let himself be taken. Couldn’t Gordon save him? He had to hear him! Crying, wishing he was there. He had been so nice, why didn’t he care?
“Dude, Benrey, you were whimpering. Was it another nightmare?” Gordon set aside the cup of hot chocolate he made Benrey and sat next to him on the couch, and gently patted the side of his head.
Benrey shoved his hand away. Somehow mad at him for not rescuing him in his nightmare, “Fuck off.”
It was a bit more than that, wasn’t it?
“You’re… You only like me right now cause I’m carrying your stupid babies… and you don’t even know what this is doing to me. I don’t know. I don’t like this man. I want… I want to be alone leave me alone!”
“Benrey I don’t think that’s–”
“No I want to be alone! You being here makes me up–I’m um, I’m upset and I feel bad and I feel um… scared and shit go away you weirdo! You uh, creep. Footguy Weirdman.”
“Fucking hell. What’s gotten into you?”
“You did! You got into me and gave me parasites! And–And uh, now they’re gonna kill me dead and eat me!”
“You DIE after you give birth?!”
“I uh, I dunno. But I could! I could die! Some–Some animals–Tommy told me this–Some animals die after they give birth. What if i’m like that?”
“Benrey, you’re going to be fine. You’re too big and complicated to die after giving birth. I promise, man, I’ll take care of you.”
“You will?”
“Yeah. You’ll be alright.” Gordon kissed him on the cheek and patted him on the chest. “I’ve actually been thinking… Maybe we should… keep them?”
“What?!”
“I don’t know. Your body put in so much work and Joshua always wanted a little brother.”
“He hasn’t even been around the past few months bro. You’ve been hiding this.”
“I’m uh… I’m coming around on them.”
Benrey stuck his tongue out and blew a weak-ass raspberry that really only accomplished in spreading his drool, “Whatever bro.”
“Can I… feel them?” Gordon reluctantly reached his hand out, and upon seeing the furl in Benrey’s brow, he pulled back.
“Uh, yo Gordon FREAKman over here wants to touch my big pregnant belly? Full of eggs that might KILL me?”
“It’s very normal for the man to like, rub his pregnant wife’s belly? This is a normal human thing? It’s affectionate?”
Benrey wasn’t all too comfortable with the idea. And not all that confident that this wouldn’t kill him. But seeing how excited Gordon was to be a dad for the second time made Benrey’s resolve soften again, and he let himself be propped against the couch. Gordon cuddled into him and put one of his arms around his shoulder, then the other on his belly. It had a lot more give than he was anticipating. Like he was full of goo. Which… yeah he was. It reminded him more of the texture of a frog’s belly back in the day when he did dissections in a highschool biology lab. One incision, and black masses of spawn attached loosely by mesentery spirals would just spill right out of the abdominal cavity.
The sensation of Gordon’s hand there wasn’t pleasant, but if anyone had his hands on his stomach, he was glad it was just Gordon. No more vivisections. Just being tenderly appreciated and doted on. It actually felt quite nice, knowing someone wanted to take care of him in this precarious state.
So Benrey was very pregnant and Christmas was tomorrow. And some of the other side effects of being so heavily pregnant were starting to become quite apparent. Benrey had stopped eating last week, and had been whimpering while watching Gordon marinate the turkey, make the cranberry sauce, and prepare the desserts. Puddings and cookies, with a store-bought cake waiting in the fridge. All things Benrey normally would have helped himself to in the past. Oh, how he wished he could stick his fingers into the cake and eat all of it before anyone even arrived for the party. But the pressure of the eggs on his belly made it impossible to swallow anything and keep it down. Why did he have to be pregnant for Christmas?
It made Gordon’s job easier and harder. Benrey wasn’t moving much right now, and had only accompanied Gordon to the kitchen to be in his presence. It got lonely without him. Although the pregnancy had softened Gordon a little bit to him, they didn’t exactly have a stable, loving relationship the way Benrey wished they had. He could only follow and long in his heart.
“Yo, uh, Feetman? Can you save some food for me? Like uh, leftovers. For after I get an absorption?” Benrey eased up into Gordon from behind as he arranged the gingerbreads and brownies. Feeling Benrey’s stomach dig into him, then his chin and claws, he pulled his arm back and gave them a few scritches on the bottom of their chin.
“We’ll see. If a few days pass and they’re still not out we have to toss it out. Uhh… I’m more worried about what everyone will say about…”
Gordon gestured to Benrey’s stomach. He was certainly plump with child. Everyone was going to notice the egg bump. Benrey had, quite cleverly, tried to hide this in a Santa costume. But then it had gotten too hot in there so he was walking around in a button up that he tucked into his workpants. And that left the pregnancy incredibly conspicuous. Benrey had a fool proof plan though, trust.
There was a knock at the door, and while Gordon was banging around in the kitchen, Benrey took it upon himself to answer it. He swung it open for Coomer and Bubby, neither of whom were all too pressed about Benrey’s weight gain.
“Hello Officer Boper! Merry Christmas and Happy Kwanzakkah!” He reached out for an incredible bearhug, that left Benrey gasping for air and maybe shitting himself just a little bit. At least, he squirted. Uh… nobody would notice, surely. He’d run off and change his pants in a bit…
“Yo. Coomer. Bubby.” Benrey made a smooth recovery as he was planted back down, and tried to soothe his now even more ailed stomach with his hands. Everything had shifted back into an even more uncomfortable position. Great.
“Oh,” Bubby readjusted his glasses as he stepped up into the house, shedding his leather jacket and bearing his tattoos, “You’re pregnant?”
“Burpie is pregnant?” Coomer gasped, “The miracle of childbirth is amazing, Benrey. Congratulations!”
“Nah, I just ate uh, a whole turkey. Mmmm.” Benrey rubbed his belly.
“Well it looked like it was a delicious meal. Where is Gordon at?” Coomer set the presents he got for everyone down and grabbed one of the Santa hats Gordon was keeping perched on their hat rack. Bubby did no such thing. He was rather humorless for a guy on Christmas.
Benrey gestured over to the kitchen. It was kind of cramped in there, though. But judging by all the bags Bubby was carrying (with a scowl, mind you), he anticipated plenty of presents and/or food needed to be directed by the king of the castle. AKA, everyone knew Benrey didn’t know jackshit, and wanted to talk to Gordon instead. The words kind of slipped out of Benrey, remembering that Gordon wouldn't have wanted people in his kitchen, “It doesn't matter if a little rat is in your establishment, farting all over your food, getting disgusting rat feet all over your food, um, burping and sneezing and getting dead guts n’ blood and gore, and used batteries, and crab cakes, and pies, and pastries, and old car parts, and rust, & rusty nails, and springs, and loose lettuce, plastic, and the Piraka, all over your food? Picture that. In your dreams.”
That’ll deter them, yeah!
“Oh, that’s fine. I can help Gordon out with the cooking. You know, before my blasted ex-wife handed me the divorce papers, I was a champion in several Black Mesa Board Approved Bake-Offs. I was the strongest baker there.”
“I have had the knowledge of the entirety of human cuisine beamed directly into my brain. Show me that fucking rat.” Bubby pushed the pregnant man out of the way and marched with Coomer into the kitchen.
“Wait! Where is Tommy at?! I need to talk to him!” Benrey felt himself getting winded already and leaned against the wall for a quick rest.
“Oh, Tommy’s running late. He should be here in a few hours! Thank you, Brappy!” Coomer smacked him on the shoulder, which nearly threw him off balance. The geezers invaded Gordon’s sanctuary. Both wise men were bearing enough gifts and unwanted platters for a third wise man to be there. Unfortunately Tommy was running late.
“Dammit Benrey, why are there so many people in my kitchen?!” Gordon was practically drowning in gifts and food.
Well… Gordon was free to handle that. Benrey was going to go change himself… But he was exhausted from walking around. Rather than doing the hygienic thing, Benrey rather faceplanted into the couch and let himself rot there for a bit. His guts were whirling. His vision was getting a bit dizzy, and he was feeling… oh fuck, did he piss himself? He struggled back up onto his feet, and then decided… eh. Whatever. Clean up would be a Gordon issue, not a Benrey issue.
He laid back down and turned on the TV to watch more Hallmark movies about basic white women meeting hunky bakers that teach them the meaning of Christmas interspersed between episodes of The Golden Girls. In no time, he had fallen asleep again, and laid snoring on the couch for a spell. The hero and heroine kissed and learned the power of heteronormativity and commercial holidays. Credits rolled. Life went on. Then, there was another ring of the doorbell. A knock.
Benrey peeled himself up and stumbled to the door, panting profusely. It occurred to him that Tommy knew he was pregnant; There was no way to hide this from him. As he opened the door, Tommy rushed in and gave Benrey another big, crushing hug that squeezed the fluid right out of him like a tube of toothpaste. He certainly felt that; Something hot, slick, and gelatinous smeared across his taint. Shiiiiiiiiiit.
“TOMMY! TOMMY I’M GIVING BIRTH NOW!”
“Huh!? What?!”
“It’s a Christmas Miracle! HELP!” Benrey fell on the floor, and the thump was heard by all. Tommy knelt beside him and felt his body; Yep, Benrey was experiencing contractions. Or at least, the alien equivalent. It was a lot easier when the material slipping out was the size of a grapefruit rather than a watermelon.
Everyone else rushed over and stood around like stupid bystanders were liable to. Gordon gripped his forehead, “Oh my God! What–What do we do how do we?!”
“We need the bathtub Mr. Freeman.” Tommy hoisted up Benrey’s head and pointed at Bubby, “Go get him some water and some pillows! And Coomer, help me move him! He–He needs a better space to lay his eggs!”
Benrey crawed and moaned while lulling his head around. In spite of what it may have seemed, he was still painfully lucid, “Bro what the fuck is happening? I thought I shit myself dude?”
“Benrey, your water broke!” Gordon ran his fingers through Benrey’s hair as Coomer hoisted him up bridal style.
“The miracle of childbirth!”
“Bro this shit ain’t a miracle I thought I crapped my pants?” Benrey barked out in pain as he was delivered into the bathroom, and then promptly into the tub. His head was facing away from the faucet, and Tommy was quite liberally going for his belt. “Woah! Woah woah woah, bro. Gordon takes my pants off.”
“Can you not make this a fight, dude?” Gordon grabbed onto his hand and squeezed, “I think Tommy knows what he’s doing… I think… Tommy do you–”
“No Mr. Freeman this is all instinct.” Tommy turned the tub on and ran his fingers under it, then grabbed Benrey’s pants and stripped them right off with an anxious fervor, “We need room temperature water for the eggs. Probably. I wrote it into a book.”
Bubby came back with a glass of water and a pillow, “I did my job. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah you couldn’t handle a birth anyways, Professor Pussy,” Coomer brought the glass to Benrey’s mouth and let him take a sip, and placed the pillow on the edge of the tub to let him rest a bit.
As the pants came off, the distinct blue amniotic fluid Benrey had dreamed of began leaking out from him, intermingling with the water. Streaks of slime oozed out for his cloaca, bubbling at the surface of the warm water. Benrey’s whole stomach proceeded to contract, the ribbed muscles banded along his body flexing like an accordion as he pushed out a frothing load of bedding for his spawn. Rather than scream in pain, Benrey was sitting there with furled brows, grunting and toughening his scars. This was a primordial memory, instinct was taking over to just… push as much as he could out and as quickly as he could.
Hours passed, Gordon stayed by his side, gripping his hand as more thick ichor spurted out and colored the water blue. His belly was slowly deflating, and it seemed as if there wasn’t any eggs in there afterall. Until at the strike of midnight, Benrey let out a long, droning groan, and his cloaca parted ways to let out a single, grapefruit sized egg float up into the protective bedding, and settle in water. It almost looked like an ornament, some kind of masterwork of glass blowing and not the masterwork of Benrey’s ass blowing. They were deep azure, with a sheen of gelatinous lazuli painted across its face. Gordon cupped his hands in the water, right beneath it, feeling the slime cling to his skin and melt off with the current.
There was life in there. A real miracle. A bunch of little alien grubs with the same birthday as Jesus. What a blessing…
“Ugh, fuck, we got one out?” Benrey asked, gasping.
“Keep pushing, papa!” Coomer flung his fist in the air, “Grab your gonads by the gonads and keep pushing!”
“I’m trying!” Benrey yelled again, and another egg popped out, and then another! Until little blue orbs were constantly bobbing up into the blanket of slime. Benrey was left exhausted, and lying down in the tub with his brood between his legs. Gordon taking him in hand.
God, this was real, wasn’t it? Gordon felt himself swell with as much pride as there were eggs floating in that bed of mucus, practically filling the whole tub. He was quivering with excitement as he brushed his hands over his own forehead, “You did wonderful. There’s so many! Tommy, what’s the number on the kids?”
“Benrey passed 20 eggs today!” Tommy, ever the proud midwife, stood up with an accomplished look. Everything had passed according to plan. But there was one thing yet to be seen… “And how are you feeling Benrey? Do you feel like you’re about to die?”
“I feel… Hungry.” Benrey sat up abruptly. Splashing everyone in slime and water. Then he grabbed one of his eggs in his claws and had a sniff at it. Then he housed the whole thing in his mouth and swallowed with an efforted gulp. Huh, they all had missed Christmas dinner… hadn’t they?
“Benrey! What the fuck that’s our kid!”
“It’s cool bro we can make more.” Benrey shoveled another into his mouth and mashed up the gooey, blue bulb in his mouth. His spittle leaked with the yolk as he chomped down and turned it into an amorphous mush.
Gordon dove down to grab one, but he was intercepted by Coomer, who started bobbing his head into the tub as if the eggs were apples. The slime coated his hair and skin as he ravaged through the cauldron for his orbs. Tommy too, was taking healthy bites out of Gordon’s freshly born offspring and scratching his chin at the flavor. Through the resounding sound of gross slurping and hoggish squelches, Gordon screamed and desperately pawed in the water trying to save his babies. Ever the opportunist, Bubby even swept in to grab eggs like a snake and fought Coomer for more to yolk to delight in. And then the water was still. Everyone was belching and patting their bellies, smeared in blue gunk and slick with amniotic oobleck.
Benrey hiccuped and relaxed his body a bit, finally feeling like his old self again, “Oof, that was the best Christmas dinner ever.”
“You are an excellent chef, Benrey. Your eggs are unmatched. It’s such a shame Gordon didn’t partake.”
“YOU JUST ATE MY KIDS!” Gordon grabbed Coomer by his lapels and shook him around, “MY LITERAL CHILDREN! I WAS THE FATHER!”
“No, Mr. Freeman, those eggs were duds. You couldn’t impregnate another species. You don’t even have the same carbon chain formations, let alone the same chirality! Oh, Mr. Freeman, Benrey could never actually get pregnant!”
“Wait what…”
“Yeah, bro. I uhh, your sperm was weak, bro,” Benrey blew a raspberry, “Just uh, made me think I was pregnert. So uh, Tommy, think I’ll live?”
“Yeah, you have an appetite, that probably means your body is investing in a long-term future.” Tommy gave him a pat on the back, “It really was a Christmas miracle.”
“Indeed! Merry Christmas everyone! And have a Happy New Years!” Coomer waved goodbye at you! That’s right, you! Who read this. Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho! I’ve given you just what you wanted this year, haven’t I?
Love,
Santa.