Work Text:
“Ow! What was that for?”
Coomer smiled, still in his boxing stance. “Now Gordon, you said you needed to test the suit properly. As a man of science, I am happy to help!”
Gordon rubbed his sore shoulder. “Punching people is the opposite of helping them.”
“You said you wanted us to see if the suit would let you feel stuff,” Benrey shrugged. “Punch pain is a feeling.”
Tommy’s head bobbled in agreement as he scrawled a note on his clipboard.“A very important feeling, Mister Freeman. We– this tells us a lot about how the, the device works.”
Gordon shook his head with a laugh, pulling his hand away from the afflicted joint.
“I was thinking more about touch.”
Benrey threw a hand in the air. “Punching is a touch!”
“And I’d hardly call that little jab a punch,” Coomer countered. “Gordon, if I had been using even a fraction more of my full power, I could have voided your entire contract.”
Bubby nodded in agreement. “Can’t sell haptic suits with a spokesman in a body cast.”
Gordon rolled his shoulders. Even without the mild pain, he felt stiff in the bodysuit. Every movement felt important.
“Hell of a selling point, though,” he noted. “Imagine it. ‘Our product makes VR experiences so lifelike, this guy from the internet got punched in the game and landed straight in the hospital’!”
“You couldn’t land straight,” Benrey challenged.
Tommy squinted. “How come?”
“Can’t do anything straight.”
Gordon chuckled. “Yeah, alright. They can’t fit ‘landed bisexually and demiromantically in the hospital’ in their ads.”
“They could if they weren’t cowards.”
Bubby clapped a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, gesturing off into the distance with his other arm. “I can see it now– ‘Our VR playtester got his shit rocked so hard he turned straight’. The company will be in shambles.”
There was a hand on Gordon’s shoulder.
“...Gordon?”
Tommy was saying his name. But more importantly, there was a hand on Gordon’s shoulder.
And then it was gone.
“Are you still with us?” Bubby asked, withdrawing his hand.
Gordon only nodded, his mouth locked shut.
Bubby gave his own hand a quick examination. “There’s not… it’s not a problem with the pressure settings or anything, is it?” There was a soft, light press on Gordon’s shoulder as Bubby briefly repeated the gesture. As he held the prolonged contact, surprise and concern lit up his eyes.
“Gordon? you’re shaking.”
“Mister Freeman!” Tommy discarded his clipboard, closing the distance between himself and his friend and reaching out to touch his arm. “Gordon, are you– is something wrong?”
Gordon shook his head so hard that his hair was smacking his face. A hand on his shoulder. Fingers on his arm.
Coomer and Benrey followed Tommy, closing in around Gordon to see what was the matter. When Benrey put a hand on his back, a sob forced its way through Gordon’s closed lips.
Someone gasped. Gordon couldn’t tell who, but he could see– and he could feel, dear god, he could feel– Coomer taking each of his hands in his own.
“Oh, Gordon…”
The first sob opened the door for the next, and soon his hands were being tugged at while light touches on his shoulders aided in guiding him down until he was sitting on the floor.
“There we go,” Bubby’s voice was tight and tense, but gentle, like trying to calm a spooked horse. “Easy. Breathe.”
“I can–” Gordon’s breath rattled in his chest as he tried to sputter a sentence. “I’m feeling you, I can feel you!”
Several hands left his back and sides, and he slumped into himself as they pulled away.
“Do we need to… not?” Benrey asked quietly. “Is this too much? Overload?”
“No!” Gordon’s head shot up. “No. No. I’m…” He look a set of deep breaths, trying to get his words back. “I’m sorry. It’s big.”
“Big?”
Gordon exhaled sharply through his nose.
“It’s a big… it’s a big deal,” he babbled. “I’m– We hang out all the time, and I’m so used to– either my brain has to fill in the gaps, or I just get the little rumble pack feedback from my face and hands. But it’s– I’m so used to it, and having this real feel like that real, it’s…”
A pat on his back reminded him to take a breath. He nearly wiped his nose on his sleeve, but decided the suit was too expensive to use as a Kleenex.
“It’s– I’m just making a big… too big a deal out of it.”
“Of course it’s a big deal,” Coomer reassured. “It’s not every day that you get your first tangible hug from someone you’ve known for over three years!”
The old scientist opened up his arms, but did not swoop in right away. He tipped his head forward, looking for confirmation.
Gordon nodded hard enough that he had to adjust his headset. The moment his own arms started to open, Coomer was there, arms squeezing him just tight enough as he rested his chin on Gordon’s shoulder. A second set of arms wrapped around him from the back, accompanied by Benrey’s wordless singing and a shower of pink Sweet Voice that hit with the force of raindrops. Bubby and Tommy took each of his sides, surrounding Gordon in a blanket of soft sensations. He couldn’t bring himself to mind the tickle of his tears collecting and leaking through the bottom of his headset.
“Thank you,” he whimpered, sinking into Coomer’s arms. “Thank you. All of you.”
“Gordon?” A hesitant sound came from Tommy. “Um, you– remember, it’s just simulated pressure, it’s not–”
“You’re gonna fall!”
Benrey’s interjection rattled the pieces into place, and Gordon abruptly thrust his arms out to catch himself. His friends released their grip, Coomer allowing himself to be pushed away before Gordon could hit the floor.
“Sorry,” Gordon mumbled.
Coomer scooted back to Gordon’s side. “That’s alright. We can’t have you breaking any of that fancy equipment.”
“Got a little carried away. Forgot you can’t really, y’know. Hold me.”
Gordon sighed.
“Well.” There was a sniffle from Bubby. “Guess we’ll work extra hard to support you emotionally. Since we can’t do it physically.”
Gordon felt a tug on his arm. He turned to see Benrey sprawled on the floor like a starfish.
“C’mon,” he invited. “Floor cuddle. You can trust the ground.”
“That’s one of my five favorite places!” Bubby joined Benrey excitedly.
Cracking a smile, Gordon lowered himself down until he was staring up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as his friends clung onto him.
“Oh, uh. Fair warning, I haven’t swept the computer room this week, it’s a little dusty out there. If you get sneezed on, you get sneezed on.”
“That’s a You problem, Gordon.”
BONUS
"Sorry, sorry," Darnold bustled through the door with a notepad under their arm, looking a bit frazzled. "I read the time wrong in the message. I thought we were doing the demo at four, and I forgot to reply, and..."
The mixologist trailed off at the sight of his friends and neighbors staring up at him from their pile on the floor.
"Hi Darnold!" Tommy waved. "Sorry. We started without you."
Gordon waved as well, but the gesture was more just the action of opening and closing his hand. He didn't seem willing to disturb the hug formation.
"Thanks for coming."
Darnold opened the notepad for a moment, but quickly shut it again.
"I'm gonna take it that the test is going well. Um, do any of you need a pillow, or...?"
Without warning, Coomer's Extendo-Arms took hold of Darnold's shoulders, dragging him down into the depths of the cuddle puddle. He had no complaints.