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Gordon didn’t do love- he didn’t do the whole “I trust you with my life, I’d kill for you, I’d do anything for you because I care for you” thing. Fundamentally, he was paranoid and alone… it was in his nature, pummeled into his brain as a young kid, that he was alone- and he’ll always be alone because Gordon Freeman didn’t trust and Gordon Freeman was better than everyone else.
So why was it that the man, the myth- the smartest, most brave, amazing man alive, laid in his bed, sulking into his pillow, staring at his messaging app, pining?! This wasn’t right, no, no, no. Gordon was strong, he was HETEROSEXUAL AND HE was a MAN. Men didn’t pine for other men, laying in bed, thinking about how their quote-on-quote friend’s hair would feel through their fingers, thinking of that small, dopey smile or-
Gordon shut off his phone, putting it on his bedside. He thought about women, hot women, yeah- strippers and porn… faceless, nameless bodies that had no strings attached. Yet, each woman’s face melded into Barney-fucking-Calhoun’s face, Yeah, that fucking short security guard that wiggled his way into Gordon’s fucked up, walled-off heart. Gordon scowled, running his hand down his face, thinking about his co-worker smiling or laughing or enjoying a soda or helping him steal the dot matrix printer. This was fucked, the world was ending, and humanity was doomed because Gordon Freeman got a crush.
He originally met Barney during his lunch break.
–
“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, how hard is it to understand that Hawaiian pizza IS TERRIBLE?!” He screamed at the lunch lady as she handed him a pepperoni pizza- the good kind of pizza- her face blank and mouth pursed in a thin line. She was too underpaid for this shit. He grimaced, taking the paper plate from her (a paper plate that was soggy and would probably fall apart if Gordon left the overly greasy piece of pizza on it for too long). In fact, it was like the pizza was soaked in grease purposefully… the lunch lady must’ve done it. She knew he liked only pepperoni pizza, purposefully poured grease on it so he would die of liver failure early, and Black Mesa could harvest his organs for a supercomputer that would only take Gordon’s brain because everyone else was too brainless. His paranoid ramblings were interrupted by a shrill voice.
“Can I get a HAWAIIAN PIZZA?” The person from behind him said, loudly and obviously on purpose. Gordon whipped his head around, spotting a short, chubby, long-haired security guard grinning mischievously at him. He was also holding a coffee cup. The lunch lady, obviously sensing what would happen, handed him the pizza and looked away, not wanting to see the carnage and injuries that would most likely pursue.
The guard stuck his tongue out at Gordon. “You are terrible.” Gordon said to the man behind him, as he went to sit down. The security guard followed suit, blowing a raspberry almost immaturely. Yet.. it was charming. WHAT THE FUCK?! No, no, you do not call MEN charming.
“Terrible, maybe, but I have good taste in pizza.” The guard must’ve been new, as everyone knew NOT to fuck with Freeman. Don’t look at him, don’t talk to him, don’t even perceive him in any way besides idolization, and ESPECIALLY don’t joke with him. People seemed to notice the guard’s display of courage, a few sets of eyes following him, whispers accompanying the gazes. Gossiping Bitches.
“You’re new here aren’t you?” Gordon asked, sitting down at HIS table, in the corner of the lunchroom, away from all the chatter. The guard had the audacity to sit across from him, picking at his Hawaiian pizza with a smile.
The guard took a bite, chewing with his mouth open as he spoke. “Mmmh, howfh wath ith obviousph?” First he annoys Freeman and now he talks with his DAMN MOUTH FULL? Gordon’s misophonia was having a field day.
Gordon cringed. “You talked to me.” he said bluntly, taking out his set of silverware from his pocket. (You expect him to trust the silverware provided by Black Mesa? Someone could’ve laced that shit with drugs or poison or something). He cut a small slice of pizza with his butterknife, eating it with a fork as a good person does. This left the security guard agape, staring at the redhead with shock.
“No shit.” the guard laughed, “you eat PIZZA with a fork?!” he yelled, laughing loudly, and… the laugh made Gordon’s heart skip a beat. From anger, of course. Anger, hatred, annoyance, anything but a positive feeling.
“Yeah, now answer my question, dipshit,” Gordon said, trying to ignore the small smile plastered on… he squinted. Barney, said his nametag. Barney’s face. Gordon hated that smile that Barney seemed to just constantly wear. No man could be that happy.
“I did- I’m new.” Barney frowned. He was thinking. “Am I… not allowed to you? I mean, rules never really stopped anyone. I’ve lied about my dice rolls in DnD and I’ve hacked in TF2, so I mean. I’d talk to you anyways. The main reason I did is ‘cause ya remind me of a pirate and I liked your vibes, if ya’ get what I mean, was that offensive? I think the eyepatch is cool by any means, but how did you get hired? I mean you got no hand-eye coordination… though not everyone in science needs it. Maybe you just do computer work, what do you do? What’s your name? I’m Barney, by the way. Oh wait, you have a badge. What do you do…” he squinted. “What do you do, Gordon…?”
Freeman’s headache, at this point, worsened, the rambling of a madman across from him causing him heart palpitations. "Freeman. I like pirates, and I'm a theoretical physicis-"
"I'm a guard!" Barney smiled, "I guard sector C! That's uhh, Ananlogous Materials I think."
"...close enough. I actually work there, too." He couldn’t pronounce anomalous… cute. CUTE?! CUTE?! WHAT THE FUCK. NO. NO. BACK UP GORDON. He hasn’t felt this way since Eddie, which was another relationship he stuck in a box, pushed to the back of his mind, and hid under a blanket in his mind-palace. Perfectly healthy.
Barney's eyes lit up. "No way!?!" he asked, with such excitement… such joy and positivity that Gordon almost smiled. He was sick, he was going to throw up from the amount of positive feelings he felt in this five-minute conversation alone. “You wanna hang out sometime? I’m new here, ya’ know. Gotta make friends.
Gordon, who usually, scoffed at the idea of "hanging out" with people... despised the idea of “friends” said: “Yeah. You look sad and lonely, don’t want you ending up with like. Fucking Jared in HR.”
“I’d never befriend HR! How dare you accuse me of such things!”
Why did he say that?! Why did he say YES?! Yes to hanging out with someone, to being friends with someone, someone who seemed to radiate excitement… some kind of- “Doc, don’t hurt yourself thinking, yeah? That might be your job but you look like you’re gonna explode. Whatcha thinkin’ about? HR?”
Gordon laughed at that, a shrill, gravelly, chuckle from the bottom of his throat. A sound that was plagued with disuse. He laughed, not forced, not on purpose, but out of instinct. Gordon Freeman never laughed- but the red that tipped Barney’s ears was worth it.
He glared at a few of his coworkers who seemed to be as shocked as he was. They looked away as Gordon continued his conversation with the security guard, Barney Calhoun.
—
“That Calhoun fella talked to Gordon Freeman and didn’t get punched, did you hear?”
“Heard he got him to laugh!”
“????”
“How did you do that with your mouth?”
“Lol idk.”
—
Barney scratched his neck, sighing as his mind was blank and empty, taking a sip of his disgustingly cheap coffee. He grimaced as the warm, thick liquid coated the back of his throat. The facility may run out of tape dispensers, pencils, or toilet paper, but they’d never run out of coffee. That was a constant in his life at Black Mesa (three days). What would happen if they ran out of paper cups? How would he drink his coffee? He could bring his own mug, but someone would steal it in a hypothetical paper-cup-shortage hell, and he wasn’t gonna carry around a glass mug everywhere he went. But if he had a mug, what would it say? If Barney Calhoun was a mug, what kind of mug would he be? He thought about maybe a mug from a video game, but it wasn’t Barney enough, it was just what Barney liked. Maybe that was the point of a mug, but in this hypothetical, he’d need a mug that was Barney Calhoun coded. Maybe he’d get one with Ryan Reynolds's face on it- the guy was hot as hell. No, that's creepy. Maybe he’d just get one that says Black Mesa. Yeah. It would be like those cheesy gift shop mugs in airports, overpriced and uninteresting. “I survived Black Mesa” with the logo on the bottom. There we go, that would be Barney Calhoun as a mug.
Barney took another gulp of his paper cup coffee, eternally grateful that they’d never run out of paper cups and that he wasn’t a mug. He hated thermoses though. Fuck thermoses. All his online homies hated thermoses. Speaking of hate, the guy in front of him seemed to hate pineapple pizza.
“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT, how hard is it to understand that Hawaiian pizza IS TERRIBLE?!” He screamed at the lunch lady as she handed him a pepperoni pizza- the kind Barney was going to order. He looked at the man in question. The guy had a bonafide, real eyepatch. No shit? He had a horrible red mullet and a scar below his cheek… and damn… those hands. He wondered what those hands were good at, even if the guy wouldn’t have hand-eye coordination. He took a mental snapshot of the mullet-pirate, putting it in his “people I find extroidnarily hot” folder. How does one spell extra-ordinarily? Extradornaily? Barney felt himself drooling a bit, chastising himself for being a creep and oggling a coworker who was yelling at a lunch lady over Hawaiian pizza. Barney needed to talk to this sexy pirate ASAP.
“CAN I GET A HAWAIIAN PIZZA?” He made sure to say extra loud, the sexy pirate looking back in anger. Bingo.
–
Everyday after that, Barney would sit next to Gordon during lunch, grinning ear to ear as he ordered some horrible combination of food. One time, he showed up with a singular cupcake for lunch, which he proceeded to eat in a fucking SANDWICH form. It made Gordon sick to his stomach (Barney didn’t wash his hands, what if he got some kind of chemicals on his hands that he would end up consuming and die?! Not that he cared, he hated the guy. He lectured Barney on this once, ending up with both of them screaming and not talking to each other for a week. That week was one of the worst for Freeman, as every comment his stupid coworkers said seemed to be ten times worse and the lunch lady was greasing up his pizza more and more and he didn’t get to see Barney’s weird food combinations, instead watching as he flirted with a GIRL at another table which made Gordon seethe in anger but it wasn’t anything like… romantic. They made up a week later- he just didn’t want Barney to die). But it also made Gordon laugh. His coworkers heard that shrill laugh more and more around Barney, leading to more stares and god forbid office gossip.
To add to the fire that was bored middle-aged scientists needing entertainment, Barney followed Gordon around like a lost puppy… a cute lost puppy. NOPE. NOPE, just a lost puppy. It wasn’t as if Barney didn’t have any other friends, the guy seemed to be well liked, often waving or chatting up someone, guard and scientist alike. No, Barney CHOSE to hang out with Gordon, and chose to bring him the most bitter black coffee every morning. Gordon hated coffee, he hated the smell, texture, and taste… but Barney made it, so he’d drink it anyways, though he’d always comment on how terrible the coffee was, Barney would shoulder it and laugh.
He would shoulder and laugh anything off, which made Gordon curious but also confused.
The ability to just simply not give a fuck made people dislike him. He was hard to get along with- speaking coldly due to… well. Everything about him. Childhood, teenagehood. He was difficult to understand, and Gordon could barely tell a proper joke. He was better than everyone else, he was better because he suffered, and went through actual hardship in his life compared to everyone else, but no one seemed to understand that.
But Barney ignored that. He even seemed to like it when Gordon laughed, his supervillain-sounding cackle, sharp and quick. Barney smiled when Gordon told a bad joke and ignored all the insults.
“You don’t even like coffee do you?” one day, Barney asked.
“What makes you think that?! I drink this shit everyday… it’s convenient because it’s there” and you made it, Gordon wanted to add.
“You drink energy drinks otherwise and you get a weird scrunched up face when you take a sip. Same face you make when I eat Mountain-Dew-Pineapple-Whipped-Cream-Strawberry-Sauce Pizza topped with Maple syrup.” he noted, a cocky grin on his face.
“Whatever, it’s here and it has caffeine.”
“You drink it because you don’t want to hurt… my feelings?” he asked, putting his hands underneath his chin, fluttering his eyelashes. Gordon punched him on the arm.
“Nah, just don’t wanna spend money on buying energy drinks when I have a housemaid here.” Gordon rebutted, his lips pursed in constant RBF.
Barney just laughed, proceeding to talk about the newest League meta and how Nunu and Willump were the best character.
He was going soft.
Barney ALSO invited him over to play video games once, which lead to Gordon getting wasted while playing Splatoon on Barney’s couch. When Gordon was drunk, he was either aggressive or extremely soft. Gordon couldn’t find it in himself to actually hurt Barney. Mean comments just slid right off Barney, and Gordon would never physically hurt him… just mentally. So, soft Gordon it was, as he cuddled up next to Barney, basking in warmth and god, Barney had really soft hair, he thought as he carded his fingers through his friends hair, laying on Barney’s chest. Barney was literally wearing a Minecraft T-shirt, yet Gordon felt more comfortable than he has in years. Last time he hugged someone… was Eddie.
“You have soft hair… expected you to have greasy ass gamer hair…” he muttered into Barney’s chest, inhaling. He smelled like axe body spray and pizza… so the average 12 year old boy. He felt a hand touch his hair, an equally drunk Barney brushing through the tangles, much like Gordon was doing.
“Mmh? Yeah?” Barney slurred, scratching Gordon’s scalp with blunt, bitten-off fingernails. Gordon made an embarrassing sound at that, nuzzling deeper into the embrace. Yeah, this was cringe but Gordon was touch starved and he could use drunkenness as an excuse in the future.
He refused to ever acknowledge it again, in fact, he never thought about it ever again (he thought about it all the time).
Barney became more touchy-feely since then, which was even more annoying because everytime that perv touched him, he felt his face go red and his entire brain short circuit because shit, he has soft hands and it was because all he did was play video games and eat shitty food, why the hell was he even a Black Mesa security guard? There was no way he was passing all those regulations… right? Was Barney stronger than he looked? Oh… that thought did things to him…
So, why was Gordon sulking in bed like a petulant child, thinking of Barney Calhoun in not-so-platonic ways? He went over to Barney’s- unannounced- which was his first mistake, only to open the unlocked door (of course Barney would forget to lock the door), and find his friend in bed with some random woman (the same one he was flirting with a month ago during their wash your damn hands argument). He paused, Barney looking at the door, face red as they stared at each other for a few seconds. His gaze wandered, accidentally. Barney had a really nice bod- NOPE. Gordon slammed the door, red as a beet, walking back to his room in disappointment. Not that he couldn’t hang out with anyone else, everyone loved him… so what was this drowning feeling?
It hurt. Like, it physically hurt, which was concerning. Was he having a heart attack? A stroke? He didn’t smell any toast. It made him want to cry almost, which was even more concerning. Gordon never cried. He broke his leg once, shattered the entire thing during a motorcycle race he did while high on DMT, and didn’t cry. So why the FUCK did he want to cry?!
Gordon buried his head inside of his pillow, groaning in agony and pain. He tried everything to ignore the feeling inside of him, that painful, gnawing, horrible feeling that drowned him, ate him alive, threatened to tear him apart and melt his insides like a shitty Gordon-Freeman-Chocolate-Fountain.
What was eating him alive? He didn’t eat anything bad, did he? No, he just saw the most repulsive man ever- half naked. Of course he’d feel sick. It was physical disgust, nothing more, nothing less.
It wasn’t physical disgust. A part of his brain told him, the one he ignored most of the time. You were jealous. You wanted to be that woman, you wanted to be the object of his shitty flirtations. It said again, like some shitty supervillain. Gordon shook his head, nah, he didn’t like MEN, let alone… Barney Calhoun. His heart felt like it was going to explode.
Was Gordon… a queer? He almost said that last word with distaste. He had gay friends, hell, Eddie was as bi as they came- pun intended- but was Gordon one… too? He liked women, that was for sure, but Barney… he screamed, throwing his phone across the room in anger. It hit the wall, falling onto the floor pathetically.
Gordon was going literally insane.
Why couldn’t Barney leave his mind? It couldn’t be romantic feelings, pining- no. It was hate, always has been, always will be right? But the more Gordon thought of it, the more he felt like he was going to explode. No more thinking, Gordon decided. No more thinking about Barney and that soft layer of fat around muscle, or the way his skin glistened in sweat, wishing his pants were off too and not just his shirt. Gordon only got a look at his back but god… no more thinking for Gordon. Nope, he was going into his beautiful brain-land where everyone wanted him and loved him.
He woke up the next morning with a few texts.
11 messages from “Barn”
3:30 AM
Barn: sry about that
Barn: shouldve locked the door woops!
Barn: awkward one night stand, yk?????
Barn: she wasnt even any good godddd.
[deleted message]
Barn: waste of time. Shes nice tho.
Barn: you know a lauren??
4:00 AM
Barn: she snores.
Barn: i literally cant sleep
Barn: but shes laying on my other arm and id feel bad.
Barn: why am i even texting you yuo might be pissed for all i know
Barn: gn
5:30 AM
Gordon: I literally could not give two shits.
Gordon gave way more than two shits.
One night stand? Gordon sighed in relief… wait…relief? Fuck.
—
Barney screamed into his pillow, Lauren comforting him as she stroked his back and hummed. “So that’s Gordon, huh?”
“Mhm.” Barney responded, muffled as he continued to drown in his pillow.
“Awkward.”
“Mhm.”
“God, enough of your gay pining, just ask the guy on a date already you prick.” Lauren said, leaning against the headrest, untangling Barney’s hair with one hand. “He looked pissed the fuck off.”
“Of course he was! It’s awkward to walk into your friend on top of someone- god. I feel bad, should’ve locked the door.”
“No, he was Pissed, capital P.” she said, side eyeing him with a shit-eating grin.
“...what are you saying?” Barney asked, moving his head so it was no longer half muffled by the pillow.
“Jealousy.” she said in a singsong voice.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Barney groaned louder, sighing and screaming again. Lauren chuckled.
—
Gordon entered his tram, thoughts of Barney filling his mind the entire time like a sick fucking plague. Imagine that, the Barney Calhoun disease. Instead of thoughts, there was Barney Calhoun, top 10 Ana Main in Overwatch, Sniper Main in TF2, Nunu and Willump Main in LOL, and a fucking NESS main in Smash Bros. Gordon wanted to throw up, the feeling of whatever-the-pseudo-heart-attack was permeating his every thought. He was going to vomit again. The Barney Calhoun disease had a lot of bad side effects, from headaches to nausea, it was very serious and only curable by sleeping with a very hot woman of course.
His sulking was interrupted by Kleiner sitting next to him. “What’s on your mind?” Kleiner asked, tilting his head. Thank god someone to talk to other than Barney… imagine talking to Barney about Barney Disease. He rather not.
“I’m sick.”
Kleiner’s face was one of concern as he raised an eyebrow. A non-verbal “go on?”
“There’s this guy- gal I mean. This Gal… her name is Bbbbb… Barbie. Barbie, yeah. I caught him- her sleeping with a gi- boy yesterday and I couldn’t stop thinking about it since. I think I’m sick! I almost threw up yesterday, I felt so angry… disappointed? It felt like a heart attack, it was painful and I wanted to cry. I don’t cry by the way. One time I shattered my leg while high on DMT during a motorcycle race and I didn’t cry, but I wanted to cry so I’m concerned and I don’t know what about him makes me unable to stop thinking about it. I call it the Barney Calhoun disease, it-” Gordon stopped, his rant trailing off. “I mean- Barbi… oh fuck it. Barney Calhoun has plagued me, Kleiner. I think I’m going to die.”
Kleiner raised an eyebrow at him. “You know damn well what that feeling is, Gordon. Have you considered that you perhaps harbor romantic feelings towards-”
Gordon groaned, “Don’t you dare say it out loud.” It makes it too real.
The vaccines have done it. They turned Gordon Freeman into a homosexual.
He groaned even louder at the thought.
Was Barney into men?
—
Barney had a mental file of every man or woman he found hot. It started with Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. That was his first ever crush. Then it was vampires, dark or brooding characters. Pirates also seemed to be a constant. His second ever crush was Jeremy in his ninth grade class when he dressed as a vampire and fuck, Barney was head over heels. Of course, growing up in the middle of nowhere, Texas, led to a lot of resentment and anger and homophobia.
Barney was an angry teenager with no outlet, of course he listened to shitty angry punk-rock bands. Still being closeted, he became engrossed with Riot Grrrl culture and found himself wanting to be rebellious, cool, punk and shit, but the most he got was putting patches on a jacket and being an asshole sometimes. He was a really really bad parody of an angsty teenager, too afraid to fully embrace the role, so tiptoeing on a lazy stoner high schooler and angsty teen. Nice. Love to see it.
Maybe that explained his unexplainable attraction to Gordon Freeman… he liked bad boys- remnants of his closeted cis era as a Riot Grrrl. Or maybe he just hated himself, either one of those was perfectly reasonable. He slept with a lot of those so-called bad boys back in college before he dropped out. All of them were unfixable by the way. They see a soft, chubby tan-skinned Asian gal and go “Oh shit, she can fix me!” except Barney was just as fucked up as them, so he made most of them worse. And she wasn’t even as she.
Whoops.
—
Gordon sipped his coffee, the paper cup double layered so he wouldn’t burn his hands, admiring the small almost childlike doodle on his cup. It was Barney, just with a thumbs-up saying “enjoy your shitty coffee”. Cute.
Gordon Freeman realized he had a crush, he had a romantic interest, and dammit, he would pursue that until they said no, in which he’d back off because he was an asshole, not a bigot. Same with being fine with being… whatever he was. Not-Heterosexual. Like he said before, Eddie was bi and Felix was gay, so it wasn’t like he was a homophobe or whatever. It was just… a shock. First on his list, was Barney Calhoun interested in men? He knew he liked women, at least sexually if Lauren was anything at all. But was Barney interested in men?
Maybe… maybe he should just ask Barney on a date, see how it goes. Not that big of a deal… Gordon was a sexy, strong man with really good hair. He could ask anyone out with ease. Asking out a low rank security guard should be no big deal. So explain why he was dreading lunch, afraid to see Barney… afraid to ask him out.
“Yo!” Gordon heard from in front of him. Barney Calhoun in the flesh and blood, all smiles and ugh, Gordon felt sick already. “Bought you a soda.” Barney said, sliding him over a Mountain Dew. Gordon nodded, trying to hold back the feelings of… liking. Liking? Really, Gordon? What were you?! Ten?!
“I had an idea. Wanna go topside, do some shopping… I heard there’s an arcade up there. I know you like that stuff, so I thought we could go together.” Gordon said through gritted teeth. God… being audibly nice. Barney might let it go to his head, so he added “Because I don’t want to get kidnapped or whatever.” for good measure.
Barney damn near lit up, and suddenly it was worth being nice. “Really? Oh, how about this Saturday? I don’t think I have any awkward one night stands that day.” he laughed, and Gordon frowned. Why was the mention of it, just even the mention of Barney sleeping with anyone else so… angering?
“Alright.” Gordon muttered, trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart. The whole liking someone business was really helping him burn some calories. Was this why white girls stayed so skinny? He zoned out, only halfway listening to Barney’s little rant about ninjas.
—
The week passed and came Saturday. Gordon impatiently waited for Barney near the exit of Black Mesa, anxiety eating him alive. Why was he so nervous? It was just a hang-out between some friends, nothing more, nothing less. He checked his watch. Where the hell was Barney?
—
Barney Calhoun was listening to Luka Luka ★ Night Fever while trying to pick out an outfit. He hasn’t left the underground in months, instead playing video games, ordering his groceries through the Black Mesa Never Leave Your Base Program (grocery delivery). He didn’t even have to go to bars anymore to get laid! He could just sleep with a coworker! All in all, Barney was pretty set. But Gordon asked him to hang out and Barney couldn’t say no. As Luka Luka ★ Night Fever blasted from his phone, he mouthed the lyrics to the song. It was a casual thing, now he could take out his jacket full of patches but he wasn’t going to give Gordon that ammunition to bully him. He could wear… his eyes caught sight of it. Perfect.
His friend bought it as a gag gift but it was perfect. Knowing Gordon, he would be dressed in all black or something, intimidating but sexy. Wouldn’t it be funny if he wore that as contrast? He looked to his jacket full of patches and took off the bisexual flag pin. Advertise the world that he was queer and wearing a creeper Minecraft jacket. It was the perfect flag to be an asshole and fuck with some people in the process.
Maybe he was acting out because he didn’t want to acknowledge the fact Gordon asked him to hang out- for an entire day no less- when it was usually Barney that planned this stuff. He ignored that thought. It hurt too much.
As Luka Luka ★ Night Fever came to an end, Barney marched out the door, his wide, mischievous smile caked onto his face.
—
What the fuck was he wearing, Gordon thought as he looked at the short man in front of him. Gordon was dressed pretty normally in contrast, with a graphic-tee of a band he saw in the 90s as a teen and a black jacket. The bright green abomination in front of him was horrible and Barney looked so proud of himself.
“I hate you sometimes.”
Barney just stuck his tongue out at him before noticing his shirt. “Bro? Bikini Kill shirt?” Barney asked, raising an eyebrow. Gordon just nodded. “Epic.” he ignored the part of him that wanted to talk about it more, instead heading to the tram station, Gordon on his heels. Gordon squinted, catching up to Barney. Barney had something on his horrible coat.
A bi flag.
He grinned. Cool.
“I was thinking we could shop for a while, then we could go to the arcade and eat somewhere afterwards.” Gordon said, stepping onto the tram.
“Yeah? Yeah?!” Barney said in that all-excitied-like voice that made Gordon’s stomach do flips. “Aw hell yeah- if I knew the town had an arcade I would’ve left the house sooner.”
“Nerd.” Gordon responded. “Do you really never leave Black Mesa?”
“Don’t act like you do either, you’re too paranoid to leave.”
Gordon scoffed, looking away. “The world isn’t ready to see me. I’m protecting everyone else, actually.”
—
The first store they stopped at was a board game store, the kind that had a wall dedicated solely to DnD books, dice and merch. “We should play DnD sometime. It’s a good way to let out steam.” Barney said, browsing the DnD dice with fervor. There was one that was the colors of the trans flag in resin. He picked it up, looking at the price. YIKES. Barney put it down sheepishly, looking at Gordon. He seemed absorbed in looking at card decks. Barney wasn’t ready for that talk with Gordon yet.
Gordon simply hmmed in response, pretending to be absorbed in those deck of cards.
“Holy shit, this minifig kind of looks like you!” Barney yelled, interrupting the board game next to him. They gave him a dirty look, which Gordon scowled at. Gordon walked over to Barney, taking the minifig from his hands. It kind of did, the eyepatch, the long hair, and a similar body type.
“You should get it. You can jerk off to it.” Gordon said, deadpan. Barney snorted, running off to look at more dice. So what if he bought the trans-themed dice when Barney wasn’t looking- it was just early gift planning.
Barney seemed engrossed by the DnD dice like he was some kind of… “Barney, do you collect this shit?” Gordon asked.
“Ha… yeah. It’s an expensive hobby, but there’s some amazing dice makers out there. Ooh, I need to show you my favorite set-” he was already getting out his phone, scrolling down his gallery. It was a set of metal dice, holographic and shimmery, in the shape of eloquent flowers. “I bought these off Etsy, bit pricey but it was worth it. I just love how detailed they are. I rather buy a few expensive ones than spend all my money on cheap ones, you know? I hate most DnD dice, they’re boring. Fuck them.”
Gordon nodded, “Yeah. I get that.”
Barney just smiled at him as Gordon held the glass bottle full of dice in his pocket, gripping it so hard it hurt. He scowled at the group of people playing board games behind them- maybe it was the paranoia, but no way in hell he’d let anyone look at Barney the wrong way.
Gordon ended up stopping at a GameStop and a comic book shop, all by Barney’s request. So what if Gordon paid for some of Barney’s things, it was a gift… and the smile on Barney’s face was worth it.
“Are you really sure it’s okay you’re spending this much on me?” Barney asked after a while as they walked to the Arcade.
“Yeah, I get paid more than you. I’m smarter, better job.” Gordon said, a shit-eating grin on his face. “We should almost be there- I talked to some friends and they said they had an arcade up here.”
“...Do you mean the Chuck-e-Cheese..?” Barney asked, as he pointed to the brightly lit building. “Did you bring me to a Chuck-e-Cheese date?!” he laughed, his face turning red as Gordon scowled and moped.
“I thought it was an actual arcade! I’m going to kill someone, I swear to god! I meant a real arcade, not Chuck-e-Cheese, wasted my time doing this shit. God.” he grumbled, his tangent becoming incomprehensible.
“Hey, don’t blow a blood vessel. It’s chill, I don’t mind going to a Chuck-e-Cheese. Good restaurant.”
“You did NOT just call it a restaurant.” Barney flipped him off in return, running off into the Chuck-e-Cheese and leaving Gordon behind. Gordon was going to murder some co-workers, actually.
All in all, the Chuck-e-Cheese was what you expected. Going to places like these reminded Gordon why he kept a pair of leather gloves on him at all times. Slipping them on, he was safe from all the disease that littered that petri dish they called a franchise. Barney, on the other hand, seemed quite happy to touch everything, seemingly forgetting how much sickness must be inside the place.
It was disgusting and horrible and he got a lot of weird looks from parents and children alike. A one-eyed, dressed in mostly black, angry man in leather gloves with a mullet and a short, long haired Minecraft merch wearing manchild walk into a Chuck-e-Cheese was a sight to behold, he was sure. As Barney gambled away his money trying to get tickets in what seemed to be a Casino machine, Gordon laughed.
“Hm?” Barney asked, pulling the lever on a 30 tickets tile. He groaned, a single tile away from the 1k tickets jackpot.
“Chuck-e-Cheese is just gambling for children. Don’t you think? I mean, you pay money to get tickets to get meaningless prizes. Do you think Chuck-e-Cheese is in relations with Casinos? I think they might be. Getting children prepared early for a life of debt and gambling.” Gordon said, leaning against a cabinet as Barney lost in the wheel of fortune again.
“We should burn down the Chu-” Barney turned around, stopping mid-sentence as a small child tugged on Gordon’s shirt.
The small, snotty-nosed, short child looked up at Gordon. “Are you a pirate?” she asked, mesmerized by Gordon and his eyepatch.
“Yeah.” he said, trying to push the child away. The child giggled.
“Does that mean you killed someone?????” She asked, jumping up and down and clapping. What the FUCK are children on these days?!
“Yeah, I have.”
“That’s… so cool…” the child said, running off and presumably telling her parents. Gordon sighed- he hated kids. He looked over to Barney, a dopey grin on his face. Gordon waved him off.
“Wanna cheat in skeeball?” Gordon asked instead.
“HELL YEAH!”
—-
So that was a disaster, Gordon thought, as he laid in bed that night. He brought Barney to a fucking Chuck-e-Cheese. But Barney was happy, he seemed to like the giant dinosaur he got from the prize counter after they robbed CEC of all their tickets. So maybe it was worth it just a little bit. Gordon looked at the glass bottle full of DnD dice that he got. 25$ for some dice- god. It would be a waste of money if it wasn’t for Barney.
He thought about the colors- what they meant. What it probably meant about Barney… and yet he found himself uncaring. What did it matter if he was trans? Despite all his cold words, brash demeanor, feelings hidden under lock and key… did you really think he was a bigot? Ugh. He’d never tell anyone, so it was okay to think this way, right? Gordon groaned even louder, burying his face into his pillow.
Whatever.
—
The next hangout… was… well.
First, they stole a printer from the Biology Lab (those pretentious pricks, they were unbearable). One thing led to another (which may have included Gordon flirting with one of the gals working there and Barney sneaking in), and suddenly, they were in Gordon's room, with a printer on the bed.
"What do we do with it?" Gordon asked, cocking his head.
"We can… print something from it?" Barney asked, gulping down a cup of water.
"You're so fucking lame."
"Well excuse me for being tired. You got to stand there and be hot. I had to carry a printer!" Gordon laughed.
"So you think I'm hot?"
Barney sputtered, his face a bright red. "Objectively, you are conventionally attractive. Yes." He said, trying not to scream.
Gordon knew he was attractive but hearing it come from Barney lifted his ego tenfold. "Let's set it on fire."
As Barney hauled the printer from Gordon's dorm to the topside, Gordon held gasoline and matches in both hands. A truly terrifying sight to behold. Gordon Freeman and fire.
They made their way to the middle of the New Mexico desert, isolated from anyone and everyone else, just the two of them for miles as they walked in comfortable silence.
Barney thought, he was always thinking. His thoughts might've been stupid, not very clever, all the things that he's been told, but he was thinking. What were his feelings for Gordon? Part of him wanted to swear up and down it was just physical attraction, but… Barney smiled softly. Whatever they had now was good enough, he supposed.
Gordon grinned, the evil kind that Barney became familiar with. "Here." Gordon demanded as he put down the printer. Slathering it in gasoline, the thick scent of oil permeating the air, the printer was set aflame. The dark fires danced against the printer, the melted plastic emanating an unpleasant smell that made Barney feel sick. As they stood over the burning printer, Barney looked over to Gordon. His face was lit up with reds and yellows, his tan skin painted with warm hues.
Barney turned red, looking away. He looked beautiful in this light, like a sun in the night. Gordon was the sun in their dynamic, huh? Neurotic, bright, loud… he was the literal sun. He would burn you, ruin you, but he was beautiful despite it all. He was the sun in their dynamic, even if it wasn't the usual sun-moon trope he saw on Tumblr.
Barney was the moon, wasn't he? Lit up only by Gordon, existing as the smaller shadow of the two. Existing in the dark… Barney sighed, putting a hand to his face. He was stuck in his head again, wasn't he? He tended to this a lot when he thought about who he was to Gordon, what he was in relation to Gordon. Did Gordon truly care? Barney knew Gordon cared about him more than anyone else, but was it just to prop up his own ego? Just to look better around people? (Gordon treated him good… better than how he treated most. He brought Barney out last week, spent who knows how much. Spent time with Barney, did things for him… he was being stupid, of course he cared… right?)
Barney groaned as Gordon looked over to his friend in distress. Maybe he could just… Gordon reached over to Barney, hesitating for a minute. Would doing this ruin everything he had? His only friend? No, Barney should adore him… just as much as Gordon adored— he shook that thought out of his head. Fuck it. He grabbed Barney's hand, snaking his fingers in-between Barney's dry, calloused but surprisingly soft hand. Barney was smaller, and his hand was no different. It fit perfectly in Gordon's.
Barney jumped at the contact, looking down where their hands connected. He smiled at Gordon as they watched the fire, intrusive thoughts be damned. In comfortable silence, they watched as the warmth from both the fire, and the skin contact turned them red.
Barney moved closer, leaning his head on Gordon's arm. Gordon's face was blank, monotone, he didn't even say anything, but Barney knew that he was fine with it.
Things were okay for now.
“If you speak about this to anyone else I’m cooking you over this fire.”
“You got it.”
(Gordon did care, Barney decided, he cared in his own, fucked up, demented way).
So that's how they ended up setting a printer they stole from a biology lab on fire.
—
The third time they hung out, Gordon got fucking sick. Gordon Freeman, who never got sick, could deal with any pain that came his way, was bedridden with a fever. He groaned, looking up at the ceiling with anger. He was supposed to bring Barney to a restaurant today, maybe just ask the damn question that's been on his mind for the last few months.
And here he was, his body uncontrollably warm, dying of a fever. Gordon was dying, he was dying because of a common fever and the plans of world domination that he planned were cut short because he was sick. Gordon groaned, picking up his phone to cancel the stupid plans he had. He even reserved a spot at a nice, fancy restaurant and the fucking common fever ruined it all.
Gordon: I’ll have to cancel. Sick.
Barn: YOU’RE SICK??? OMW.
Gordon: Don’t worry about it.
Gordon rolled over, closing his eyes, ignoring how his body felt like it was on fire and how his brain was melting. It was turning into a Freeman milkshake actually, blood and guts included for texture. He laughed at his own morbid joke. The more he thought about it, the more the sickness seemed to hurt. He was hyper aware of every single one of his limbs, how all of his limbs seemed to be on fire… he drifted off to sleep, cursing god and hoping Calhoun would listen to him.
Barney, obviously, did not listen to Gordon as Gordon woke up to the sounds of clinking in the kitchen and a cup of water next to his phone. 1 New Message.
Barn: I’m at your place.
Barn: bro unlock the door
Barn: I got groceries :///
Barn: fine im asking kleiner to unlock ithu
Barn: ut*
Barn: ot*
Barn: OT*
Barn: IT. I MEAN IT. GODDAMMIT.
Gordon chuckled, hearing sounds of distant swearing in place of the sound of pots and pants. Guhhh, he had to get up, didn’t he? He wobbled his way out of bed, moving slowly. He was even more feverish than before, his head throbbing like someone smashed his head in with a chair (which Gordon has felt, and he can vouch that they feel incredibly similar). He squinted as he ascended from the pitch black of his room, the light a flashbang in his eyes.
Barney was in the kitchen, his long hair put up in a bun, most likely for cooking purposes, as he boiled a pot of water. It smelled… surprisingly good. What he could make out was onion, garlic, some kind of meat and an assortment of vegetables, some in the pot, some not in the pot and what he assumed was a packet of soup broth(?) base next to a bowl. Barney was reading off a small index card, reciting the recipe to himself most likely.
“Barn…?” Gordon asked, ignoring the fact he used a nickname for Barney. He was tired, he was sick… and extraordinary delirious.
“Go back to bed, enjoy the Barney Calhoun malewife moments while you can.” He was wearing a graphic t-shirt that said “gay-mer” on it with a pride flag. Huh. “I’m making you soup… trying to. I only know how to make a soup that my mom made me as a kid. Wanted to make the other one but you don’t like ginger very much.”
“I’m fine, the canned soup works… just microwave it.” Gordon slurred, walking over to the table and sitting down, sinking into his chair and sighing. “Barney in my kitchen… he’s gonna burn it down don’t you know?”
“I’m not gonna burn it down. I’m making sinigang. I can’t even burn sinigang.” Barney said, “Just go back to bed.”
“I’m… ‘m sleeping here to keep an eye…” Gordon yawned. “Keep an eye on you.”
“Whatever makes you happy, man.” Barney stirred the meat and vegetables in the pan as he prepared the tamarind soup base. By preparing, Barney was opening a packet he found on Amazon a while ago. He really hoped it wasn’t expired, could soup base even expire? Man, he didn’t know. He had to text his mom to ask for the recipe that she gave to him, with most of the instructions being “add some” and not a specific amount. He didn’t even know how to make proper mac-and-cheese. How did you expect a guy whose diet was solely pizza rolls and mountain dew to make soup without proper instructions? He groaned, measuring out “some” water into a measuring cup.
The vegetables and meat started to scream at him, smoke coming out of the pot. Okay, turns out you can burn sinigang. He turned down the heat, mixing the pork that was slightly burned. It was whatever, Gordon could easily ignore the burnt meat. With a gentle sigh, he poured in the tamarind soup base and “some” water into the vegetables and meat, the sour smell spreading throughout the room. Barney grinned, now to make some rice. He looked over to the counter and-
Oh. Right. Gordon wasn’t Asian. He didn’t own a rice cooker.
How did people live without a rice cooker? Barney noted that he would buy Gordon a rice cooker sometime. Gordon and his silly non-Asianness. A rice cooker was incredibly versatile. It could cook rice of any kind, it could even cook a cake. He saw that one on Instagram once. Like? Why own a toaster oven but not a rice cooker? Gordon was half white, so it made sense that he wouldn’t own a rice cooker, but it still confused the hell out of Barney. A rice cooker transcended beyond culture and race, it was a universal need. Add it to the list of basic human needs: food, water, shelter and a rice cooker. Barney washed some rice in a normal pot, deciding he’d have to make pot rice which works but it’s not rice cooker rice. Opening a rice cooker was a whole new kind of serotonin, clicking the little button, opening the lid and seeing all that steam leave the rice cooker and seeing a beautiful display of perfectly cooked rice in a perfect shape. Barney loved rice cookers, it didn’t matter what brand or what kind. A rice cooker was a rice cooker and-
Barney sighed. He spent so much time wasting away about rice cookers that he forgot to turn the heat up so the stew could come to a low boil. How did his mom do it? How did she go and cook six meals all at once without getting overwhelmed a single time? The Filipino experience, Barney decided. White people and their lack of rice cookers and stupid toaster ovens… Barney grumbled to himself, finally sitting down as both the rice and the soup were on the stove. He should unpack the groceries he bought for Gordon.
Opening the fridge, he frowned. What man had a 12 pack of beer, 3 sodas, a thing of peanut butter and jelly and a thing of Chinese takeout and nothing else? This was Barney Calhoun, CEO of being lazy and unhealthy- and at least Barney had spinach in his fridge. He grumbled again, scooting the plastic bag closer to him. He got like 12 Gatorade bottles for Gordon, some medicine because god knows the man thinks he’s too good for medicine (“I don’t need a crutch, my body is so exquisite that it can fight off any sickness without any medicine.” was his exact words). He threw the leftover onions in the fridge, smiling to himself. Barney Calhoun Malewife Moments, Top 10. Number one, taking care of THE Gordon Freeman while he was sick. He looked over to Gordon, who still seemed to sound asleep on the table. His neck was at an angle that would hurt when he woke up.
Barney, being a security guard who had to do yearly evaluations, worked out pretty decently. That and the constant T-Shots added to the muscle. He could probably carry Gordon to the bed, right? Gordon was a light sleeper, but maybe being sick changed that? He walked over to the table, careful to not step loudly, and picked Gordon up- bridal style. Was the man a twig? How was he so light?! Gordon stirred in his sleep, opening his eyes. “Wh-whuh?” he whispered, trying to blink away the light. He wrapped his arms around Barney’s neck- probably to keep from frowning.
“Back to bed you go, Doc.” Barney whispered… it was so soft and his voice was calming when it wanted to be. Gordon had to listen… right? He yawned. There goes Barney massaging small circles into his neck and- yep. Gordon was out.
“Okayyy.” Gordon slurred, before closing his eyes again. Barney grinned, ear to ear, as he put Gordon onto bed. He doubted that the other would remember anything that happened, but in his mind and heart, he would remember when Gordon held onto him for dear life… Barney shook his head. No, no it was fine. He straightened out his shirt, returning back to the kitchen to finish the soup.
Gordon woke up- it was dark outside which meant that Gordon slept the… entire day. He felt better, his fever went down. Gordon sat up, hearing a plop on his lap. He looked down. Someone put a wet rag on his head- actually. Someone took away his blankets and replaced them with a thin sheet. Who- who was in his house?! He stood up abruptly. There was an intruder, someone unknown in his house, someone who could hurt him or frame him or- Gordon grabbed the baseball bat near his bed and tiptoed his way to the door. He opened the bedroom door carefully, hearing sounds of the TV quietly playing throughout his dorm.
He turned the TV on, he knew that- and what was that smell? It was… pleasant. Gordon had an intruder that was cooking and taking care of him? What the hell kind of backwards psychology was this burglar taking? Gordon screamed, holding his baseball bat in front of him as a head popped out from on the couch. “You’re awake!” said a familiar voice.
Oh. It was just Barney. He was on Gordon’s switch playing… Smash Bros? Of course, he was playing Ness.
“You disgust me. Ness main.”
“At least I don’t main Ganon mister ‘my name is Gordon Ebony Darkness Freeman Way’, god. Dinner’s on the stove, by the way. It’s pretty good if I say so myself.”
Gordon put down the baseball bat. “You made… dinner?”
“You also have meds on the counter and some cold Gatorade in the fridge.” Barney said, “I would’ve left but your fever was pretty high, I would’ve asked Kleiner to keep an eye on you but they were doing something important with… I’m not really sure.” Barney admitted sheepishly, smiling in that stupid way that made Gordon want to throw someone.
“Oh.” was all Gordon said, trying not to show too much emotion. Lord knows what would happen if the world was aware of his feelings towards Barney- someone could blackmail him! The idea of anyone hurting Barney made him feel sick though… god. He hated the whole having intense emotions towards someone thing.
“Oh? That’s all I get after being such a good housewife?”
The idea of Barney in a dress and apron made Gordon snort, “You couldn’t be a good housewife. You’d do chores for a single day and then get bored.”
“You’re right. I’m a good once-a-month housewife, and you’ve used up your wife quota for the month which means you have to wait.”
Gordon simply hmmed in response, taking out a bowl and serving himself some… soup and rice? “What kind of soup is it?”
“Filipino kind, sinigang. Tastes really good, cross my heart.” Barney said. “I’ll taste test it so you know it's not poisoned or whateve-”
Gordon took a bite- without checking if it was poisoned. It was sour, and tangy, but it was a pleasant taste, slightly salty. The rice balanced out most of the salt flavor, It was pretty good all in all. He looked over to Barney to give his opinion, but he had the most puppy-like expression on his face. “What’s the look for?”
“You ate it without being paranoid about it being poison…” Barney whispered, smiling widely. Gordon turned red, looking away and eating his soup.
“I’m just hungry and I don’t have time for paranoia!” he rebutted, trying to ignore the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Barney just grinned, leaning against Gordon’s shoulder like he did during the "printer burning of Black Mesa" incident.
Gordon leaned his head on Barney’s, the two standing side by side in once again, a comfortable silence.
Gordon wanted more.
—
Barney shouldn’t have stayed the night. He knew what it was like when he had a nightmare, and as he sat on Gordon’s couch, he held back his tears. He had one of the recurring nightmares that would eat him alive every time it happened. His father, screaming at him, yelling at him, telling him all sorts of things that would destroy younger Barney. He quietly sobbed, trying to ignore the memories, the angry tone that Barney’s father would use on him. The way he would laugh and scowl and hit Barney when he was already down. How he wouldn’t call Barney “son” even after he fully transitioned.
He hid his head in his hands, biting his lip and wiping away the tears rapidly. Gordon couldn’t see this, he had to be strong, had to be brave, had to be enough to prove he was worth Gordon’s time and ener- he felt the sofa next to him dip. Using his peripheral, he spotted a glimpse of red. Gordon. Great- his crying woke up Gordon who was sick and who Barney was supposed to be taking care of! He was exactly what his father said, doing exactly what people expected of him. Doing exactly what his father would’ve wanted from him.
Barney cried harder, god- he told himself he wouldn’t cry and he CRIED HARDER? Why couldn’t he be fucking normal and why didn’t his brain do what he wanted him to do? Gordon held his arms out in an embrace. Barney slotted himself in-between Gordon’s arms, burying his face into Gordon’s chest.
Everything reminded Barney of him, of that one guy who ruined his life, tore him apart, hurt him, kicked him until he was nothing and no one. But in Barney’s mind, maybe for the first time in a long while, all facade he had cracked, and he just cried. Cried. Cried.
They laid there the whole night- and it was some of the best sleep either of them had. It wasn’t even that awkward the morning after.
—
The fourth time.. The final time Gordon tried (and succeeded) in confessing to Barney. It was Barney’s birthday. He was turning 26- and they were at his dorm, just the two of them, playing video games and laughing. Barney’s “real” party already happened that weekend, but the two just for them… well. That was on his actual birthday. They were playing Silent Hill 2, running away from monsters and laughing-screaming. Gordon checked the time… 6:37. Perfect. Just enough time to prepare his gift.
“I need to head to the bathroom, you keep playing, yeah?” Barney nodded, focused on shooting down whatever was chasing him. If Gordon was honest, he had no clue what was going on in the game itself, instead focused on the determined look on his friend’s face. When Barney was focused - Gordon realized- he usually bit his lip or stuck out his tongue, squinting his eyes and tapping rapidly. It was adorable.
Adorable.
You know, if Gordon was the same Gordon he was a few months ago, he would’ve been repulsed at the idea of calling Barney “adorable” but now, it's become a second nature. It was just like calling a cat cute, or laughing when someone falls. It’s just something that you do because it’s normal to you. Gordon stood up, preparing his surprise. Barney was born at 6:41- translated into the proper time zone already, thanks Google- which was when Gordon would give Barney his gifts.
He opened the backpack he brought with him- four gifts and a party hat- and tiptoed back to the couch, behind Barney. It was 6:40… just a few more seconds and-
“Happy birthday.” Gordon said, monotone as he put a party hat on Barney (one of those cone ones that looked more a dunce hat). Barney paused his game and looked up, jaw agape at the fact Gordon got him three presents. THREE.
“Yo? Three of them???” Barney asked as Gordon sat down on the sofa, scowling. “Thank you, Gordon. I appreciate it.” Gordon grumbled in response, though Barney knew what it meant. “What do I open first?” he asked, looking at the pile of gifts on his coffee table. His friend shrugged in response- so Barney picked up a small box.
Inside it was a rubber keychain of… Mikudayo? “How did you… how’d you know I like Vocaloid?” Barney asked, skeptical and a little scared. He was into “weeb shit” as Gordon would call it. That was so much ammunition of being made fun of.
“I follow your Spotify. I saw it though and like- recognized the character. I don’t care what kind of weeb shit you’re into.” Gordon rolled his eyes, “At least it isn’t like weird tentacle hentai or whatever.”
Barney just laughed, opening the next gift,, this one softer and without a box, he tore back the wrapping paper. Barney laughed. “You got me a stuffed toy?” He asked, freeing the small Parappa the Rapper stuffed toy from it’s paper prison. “Thank you, I’ll sleep with him every night!” Barney said, setting it on his lap. He leaned against Gordon as he opened the last gift, the one Gordon was anticipating the most… the glass bottle rattled. “Is it…?” Barney carefully unwrapped it, his fingers slowing down as the actual gift was revealed. “Oh. From… that thing we did a while ago? You got it?” He sounded worried, moreso than he sounded excited.
“Yeah. I saw you looking at it and you enjoy that nerd shit but-” Gordon put a hand through his hair, he was bad at this. Friendship- feelings. How did he word things without hurting Barney’s feelings? (Barney was an impenetrable wall when it came to insults, though).
“You know what the colors mean, right?” Barney questioned, slowly. Gordon nodded, this was stupid. Why did he think this was even close to a good idea? He should’ve just stayed quiet, let Barney do his thing and- “And you’re fine with it…?” Barney was terrified, the last person he told other than Lauren called him a crossdressing freak. His parents weren’t the most supportive, though that was an understatement. He could move back to Bulgaria if Gordon wasn’t okay with it. He could text his mom “hey the guy I’ve been talking about is a transphobe, mind if I hide in your basement? Don’t tell dad lol!” No… no he couldn’t go back to Bulgaria and he couldn’t go back to his parents- his father. His thoughts were pierced by the sound of Gordon angrily shaking Barney out of his thoughts.
“Of course, I’m fine with it. You’re just Barney to me no matter what, even if the name you chose was stupid as fuck. You’re always Barney to me and I don’t care what you were born as physically or whatever. I mean- god. I’m bad at this shit. You get what I mean.” He scoffed, continuing “And if I did end up being a transphobe, I wouldn’t have like. Done shit with you. Held hands at the fire or anything.” Gordon looked away, tugging on his long hair. He felt two soft arms around him, hugging him.
“Thank… Thanks. I appreciate it.” Relief flooded Barney, sighing in both contentment and as a way to relieve the built-up anxiety. He didn’t have to leave Black Mesa, thank god. He wasn’t sure where he could go. He had an online friend named Benrey, maybe he would’ve let him crash on his couch. He did say he lived somewhere in New Mexico… Barney shook his head, he didn’t have to leave at all. Why worry? As Barney internally monologued, Gordon almost screamed out of frustration.
He groaned. He was so tired of this, this feeling of uncertainty and the pain that came with pining, even if he wasn’t in it bad for that long. He’s only known Barney for what, a year-ish, and yet the guy was able to penetrate all Gordon’s emotional defenses, all coping mechanisms just by Barney being oblivious and impossible to insult properly? No, there was more to that but Gordon didn’t know where to pinpoint where those feelings came from. He would just say what he could, figure out the deeper shit sometime else. “Okay, I’m saying it now. Barney, you’re-” You’re what? You make me feel things I can’t describe? Make me want to try and be a more considerate, friendlier person? Make me sick, to the point I want to cry when I see you with anyone else? Make me wonder if I’m good enough, for the first time ever? Make me… “You shouldn’t exist. I don’t get it, why do you spend time with me? I’m rude, inconsiderate, I’m unlikeable and you might be one of the most liked people I know. What the fuck is up with that? Secondly, I don’t fucking understand how the things I say don’t hurt you.” He saw Barney shrink away from the tone Gordon was using, with genuine anger and frustration. “I just…” Gordon started in a softer tone. “I want to know if-”
Barney looked at him, still in his stupid body hat with his Parappa the Rapper plushie at his side, red in the face and- “would you be interested? In a date. With me. Romance, not just like. Sex.” Gordon said, his sentence fragmented and tone choppy.
Barney’s fear disappeared, a grin replacing the anxious frown. “For real?” he asked, moving closer again, until their faces were just mere inches apart. “Because I like you too Gordon, you make me laugh, you’re kind of an ass but I also kind of love it? You’re hot as hell and- you’re understanding.” Barney whispered the last part. “And like. You care… I think? In your own way.”
“Yeah. I’m… not kidding or whatever.”
“Yeah? I mean, we were practically dating before. We did all the touchy-feely stuff, I was your temporary housewife, we went on dates and-”
“That’s normal friend stuff?” Gordon asked as Barney put a hand on Gordon’s cheek, cupping it, looking at him with adoration in his eyes that Gordon nearly threw up at. He silently asked, can I?
Barney nodded, pulling in for a kiss that Gordon thought was never coming. He was soft, gentle- and Gordon felt happier than ever, relaxing into the embrace as the stuffed animal pressed against his body. Barney pulled away, a bright smile on his face that was sickeningly sweet. Everything about him was sickeningly sweet, but it was fine. It was worth it, Gordon decided, grinning a bit in return.
Maybe it was worth all the hassle, but only a little bit.