Archive of Our Own

The portal was not finished by the date that Stanford had predicted. It was worse than simply unfinished, it was stagnating. Ford was stagnating. He could feel it creeping up around him, its claws finding purchase within his flesh and working their way into his bloodstream with the ultimate goal of slowing his mind and body until they were rendered utterly useless. Caffeine and Bill’s powers could help speed these things up, but speed was quickly found to be useless if there was a brick wall blocking your only path forward. It didn’t stop Ford from trudging on through the slog, working in his basement laboratory alone after Fiddleford had long since packed up for the evening. He found it wonderfully easy to lose track of time without the pesky sun to remind him of his circadian rhythm, and took up the habit of covering any clocks so as not to ruin his flow with similar reminders. Of course, being human meant that these frankly irritating needs would catch up to him eventually whether he liked it or not, leading to more than a few impromptu snoozes at his desk. Even when he wasn’t on the verge of unconsciousness, it wasn’t like he could truly devote his entire brain capacity to the calculations. Not after everything that had happened between him and his muse so recently, still spinning around and replaying in his mind whenever it began to wander. He could feel sleep’s grasp on him again, try as he might to focus on the equation in front of him. He couldn’t let Bill down. He was chosen to do this work for a reason. Despite his repeated convictions, Ford’s eyelids gradually began to droop over his vision until they completely shrouded his world in darkness.

“Well, well, well. Sleeping at your desk again, smart guy?”

The familiar crisp and clean smell of ozone that heralded Bill’s presence in his mind quickly roused Ford into lucidity. Looking up, he found himself in the familiar setting of the Mindscape, sitting in his usual floating chair with their well-used chess board in front of him. Bill was levitating just beyond it, his legs kicked up and arms folded behind his head in a relaxed posture, but his singular eye focused sharp as a knife on the human across from him. A sense of failure washed over Ford at the realization that he was, in fact, asleep. Bill’s unblinking gaze as he waited for a response did nothing to quell the feelings of inadequacy that were beginning to eat away at the sleep-deprived man.

Groaning, Ford leaned his head back until his face was pointing up at the endless celestial sky of the Mindscape. “I’m sorry Bill, I’m sure you’re disappointed in me, but I really don’t mean to keep doing this. I just can’t seem to stop myself from working until my body has no choice but to give in to sleep. If I go lay in bed, it’s like my mind can’t be turned off, and if I push through the exhaustion, my body remains wide awake until the precise moment that it isn’t anymore.” Ford fidgeted with the hem of his sweater vest nervously. “I really do…want to do this right for you. I’m not trying to slack off.”

Bill looked Ford up and down skeptically. “Well, you’re certainly not going to get much quality work done on the portal if you keep ignoring your body’s desperate screams to be taken care of like that. Even I can tell you’re basically medieval-torturing yourself right now! And I’ll tell ya, those guys really knew what they were doing. Roasting people alive in a giant bull that turns their bloodcurdling screams of pain into bull sounds? Objectively hilarious!” Through his fond reminiscing, he seemed to quickly notice how crestfallen Ford looked at the subtle confirmation of Bill’s disappointment and floated over to ruffle his hair affectionately. “But hey, don’t you worry, Sixer. I know how to untangle all those little crossed wires in your brain—“ He emphatically poked Ford in the center of his forehead. “—so you can actually get some shuteye. I am pretty great at making you do math in your sleep, but I think you just need to get some sweet, sweet R.E.M. for tonight while you lay completely flat. And I’m talkin’ flat flat. Y’know, like that one children’s book character who gets crushed in his sleep and then goes on a waking body horror nightmare adventure afterwards. Fun for the whole family!” Bill’s eye squinted in a facsimile of an earnest smile that Ford caught as he followed the triangle with his inquisitive gaze, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

“Vital question, does this method of turning off my mind and body by any chance involve a heavy object getting thwacked against my cranial region and potentially causing permanent brain damage?” Bill had certainly been of great help before, but his methods were supremely unconventional, to put it politely. Ford didn’t ever want to seem ungrateful for his muse’s offers to help, but Bill didn’t exactly seem to have the best grasp on the human body’s limits. Ford assumed that being an ancient incorporeal god of inspiration made estimates on the hard limits of a human’s physical form a bit difficult to guess, so it really wasn’t Bill’s fault in the end.

Bill giggled, wiping a single tear from his eye as if the idea were preposterous. “Oh Fordsy, you should know I’d never risk damaging that perfect mind! I know exactly where to bludgeon your skull to get you a one-way ticket to SleepyTown that also avoids scrambling that lovely brain of yours like an oversized ostrich egg.” Ford suppressed a shudder, and Bill only seemed more tickled at his reaction. “But noooo, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind as my antidote to this little problem of yours.”

Ford’s heart began to race at Bill’s implications. “What are you getting at, Cipher?” The hazy memories of their recent karaoke night bubbled to the surface faster than he would’ve liked, and Ford feebly attempted to quiet his treacherous mind before Bill noticed. Though the sequence of events was a bit muddled if he tried to piece together which parts came before or after which, he could still recall enough of what happened that night for those memories to take up a seemingly permanent residency within a significant portion of his mind. Still, part of him also feared that Bill silently regretted it now. And of course he would regret it, what else had Ford expected? Of course a god would regret profaning himself, bringing himself down to the level of a simple human in a moment of weakness for both of them. Why else had they never even talked about it? Why else would Bill disappear without a word for two agonizingly slow weeks after his birthday before reappearing as though nothing had changed? It wasn’t that long ago, but despite himself, despite his muse, despite the strange energy that permeated the air between the two of them, Ford couldn’t bring himself to regret doing it. He had been desperately wishing for nothing more than to touch Bill again, to kiss him again. Preferably, it could occur with both of them a bit more sober this time, though he lamented that he would miss the added “liquid confidence,” as people so aptly called it. It had long since gotten to the point of these fantasies becoming an actual, palpable distraction, something he couldn’t sweep under the metaphorical rug of his mind whenever Bill decided to step back inside for a nonchalant game of chess or nighttime equations and inevitably poke around the place. Did he even feel the awkward yet achingly needy energy in the air? He sure wasn’t acting like it, but it didn’t really matter either way. Ford had somehow found himself trapped in a will-they-won’t-they where the twist was that they already had. With a triangle. Who could read his mind.

“Oh, come on, I think you know exactly what I’m getting at here, Pines,” Bill countered, bringing up his hand to stroke Ford’s hair more gently this time. “How ‘bout you ask me for the thing you’ve been wanting so bad for the past few weeks real nicely, and I’ll think about helping you out?” Bill’s touches were absolutely tantalizing, the slow drag of his fingers over Ford’s scalp leaving him craving more contact. It didn’t help when the end of his fingertips morphed into tiny claws, scratching against his head in a way that made him want to whine shamelessly.

“Bill, please…” Ford’s eyes rolled back in his head as Bill scratched just the right spot with his small claws.

“Full sentences, IQ.” Bill punctuated his demand by pulling roughly on a tuft of his hair near the back of his scalp, ripping an unsanctioned whimper from Ford’s lips. “I know firsthand that you’ve got a big vocabulary, and buddy, now is the time to use it. Unless you don’t want my help, of course—”

“No!” The very notion of Bill leaving him to deal with this problem on his own was enough to shoot a live wire of fear straight through his entire body. “Bill, please, I want you to touch me. I need you, my muse…” Ford could feel himself flushing just from being made to voice such once-unthinkable desires. “I want your mouth on me, please. Like you did before.”

Bill starts to laugh irritatingly right next to his head. “Oh, wait, you thought I meant sex? Wow, you horny freak! I was just gonna offer you a coupon for a free massage chair at the local furniture store blowout sale! What a cad. Somebody call a cleanup crew, we’ve got a dirty mind here!” Bill ruffled Ford’s hair with his closed fist playfully, knocking his glasses askew.

“I—” Ford flushed such a deep shade of red that he could feel it travel all the way up to the tips of his ears. In that moment, he truly couldn’t tell if Bill was making a joke at his expense or if his mind had been so clouded with lust as of late that it had caused him to completely misread a very normal situation.

Bill rolled his eye at Ford’s reaction. “Yeesh! Touchy, touchy. I was obviously just kidding, you gullible little thing.” Bill slid a hand under Ford’s chin and lifted it up as if to appraise him. “Of course you’d want me to get you off again. You’re only human, after all. And did you think I didn’t notice that so much of this brain has been filled to the brim with filth lately that it’s starting to take your focus away from work? Ha! Clearly, you’re all pent-up and need my help.” Bill rubbed his thumb against Ford’s chin, feigning genuine concern. “Don’t you even worry about it, Fordsy. I’ll make you cum so hard, you’ll be sleeping like a rock for the next twelve hours. Maybe even in an actual bed this time, you’re gonna have enough back problems when you’re old as it is without sleeping in some crappy desk chair every night! So, we got a deal? I do this for you, you keep doing things for me?”

Ford leaned into Bill’s touch, chasing that tiny bit of contact dangling in front of him. “Yes, it’s a deal, I want your help, please…”

Bill practically cooed at him from where he floated. “Aww, aren’t you so sweet with your please’s and thank you’s? Begging for your muse and I’ve barely even touched you yet. You really are just a tightly wound little ball of stress, I tell ya. But if I can just pull the right string, I know I can make you unravel and fall apart for me, easy peasy.” Bill moved back in front of his face, smiling down at Ford from just above his eye level. Despite having no traditional mouth, Ford could always recognize the bend in his eyelid that meant that Bill was sporting his own version of a grin, and he could often make an educated guess as to what other emotions were dancing behind that one eye. He’d known the mysterious being personally for a while now, and it became easier to read his emotions over that stretch of time since they had first met. Still wasn’t an exact science yet. “I’ll take good care of you, Sixer, trust me…”

“I do,” Ford exhaled, looking up in reverence at his muse. Just like that, the chair below him was gone and his clothes had disappeared from his body in a flash, leaving him floating and exposed to the open air of the Mindscape. He involuntarily shivered, despite the fact that the temperature in his mind was completely under his control.

“That’s more like it!” Bill’s eye boring down on his naked form from above made Ford feel an immediate mix of conflicting emotions. Bill could appear so impersonal if he kept a straight face, no more invested in the situation than one of the tapestries in his image that covered so many surfaces in Ford’s house now. It made him seem divine, inhuman, impossible to truly read. It made Ford squirm to have Bill’s unblinking gaze on him now, taking in every detail of his body with the exacting gaze of a vaguely curious god. Embarrassingly, his cock was already beginning to stiffen from the undivided attention alone. Bill took notice, and that oh-so-familiar upwards curl of his lower eyelid was the first crack in his unaffected expression. “Already getting all needy just from being looked at, Sixer? You little exhibitionist.” Bill laughed when Ford only answered with a full-body shiver, the lack of contact not doing anything to slow his racing heart. “Aw, you’re just about as cute as a live vivisection, and twice as messy. Hey, you think I could get you off just by making you react to stimuli and taking notes on it?”

“Potentially…” Ford exhaled, a wave of electric desire running through his body at the very thought of it. The idea of truly feeling like a specimen under a microscope for Bill, interesting and special enough to be studied and tested on by an all-powerful god, was more than enough to make his dick visibly twitch.

“Oh my gosh, look at you! I totally could!” Bill’s palpable delight only heightened as he floated closer to Ford, beginning to run his fingers along the man’s flushed collarbone. “Alrighty then, let’s see what kinda reactions I can produce from this subject.” Oh, Ford could just tell this was going to be an absolute ordeal when he heard the mischief dripping from every stretched-out syllable of that sentence.

“B-Bill, come on…”

“Hush, Stanford,” Bill cut him off sternly, and the change in his muse’s tone sent a new wave of pleasure straight to Ford’s cock. He was just as bossy during sex as he was in any other situation, but Ford found a certain pleasure in knowing exactly what was wanted of him and meeting those demands enthusiastically. “I’m trying to focus on my important new experiment here, so keep your mouth shut unless you want me to zip it up for you.”

Ford was well aware that this threat was probably not an empty one, so he clamped his jaw shut tightly as Bill continued his exploration of Ford’s body. His hands lightly stroked Ford’s bare skin, knowing just how each small movement affected him, all thanks to a very specific kind of insider knowledge that only Bill was privy to. No other being could ever say that they had seen inside of Ford’s mind, stepped into his own body like a suit and perceived the world through the lens of his own sensations. Ford might have worried about his ability to form a relationship with anyone even a fraction as deep as the one that he was experiencing now, if it weren’t for the indisputable fact that there would be no other after Bill. There was no way that some human could give him half the pleasure in the waking world that Bill could give him in a dream. Maybe humans really were just an inferior species when compared to those from other dimensions, but he counted himself lucky that at least Bill didn’t see him that way.

Bill’s hands made their way down to his chest, sliding over his pectorals before rolling his nipples under dexterous fingers. “Ha, your body didn’t even know you don’t need these. They have virtually no purpose to exist!” Bill abandoned the gentle fondling for a rough tug instead, causing Ford to buck his hips involuntarily and clamp his teeth down around a half-formed moan. “Hmm, well, maybe your body has some reasons to keep them lying around for special occasions.” A handheld tape recorder manifested in one of Bill’s hands, which he pulled back to his eye to speak directly into with what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. “Hypothesis: Subject is more than a little bit starved for some touch. Further testing required to gather evidence.”

Ford jolted in surprise as he felt more hands than usual on him, three, then four, then five, some insistently groping at his flesh and others teasing him with featherlight touches that dragged along his skin ticklishly. His body squirmed in opposition, yet desperately craved more. His wrists were grasped together and pulled up over his head, leaving Ford all the more vulnerable to Bill’s vicious onslaught. One hand scratched down his back with claws that felt noticeably sharper than usual, another hand danced over his side as though counting every rib under his soft skin, another alternated between pinching and twisting his nipples, and yet another brushed just the tips of its fingers along his inner thigh as if taunting him. As he leaned away from one, he found himself accidentally leaning right into another, the hands now countless over his entire form, all sprouting from a Bill who was looking gleefully amused again as the man completely under his control tried to curl in on himself and barely managed to bite back his pleas for mercy. It felt to Ford as though he were at war with himself, unable to think or strategize any kind of way out, and it was making his mind go delightfully fuzzy with the mixed barrage of unrelenting sensations.

A new hand made its way to his mouth, barely ghosting over the curve of his lower lip before parting them insistently. The soft pads of Bill’s fingertips traced the inner side of Ford’s bottom row of teeth, feeling how the landscape changed from incisor to canine to premolar to molar. Ford resisted the growing urge to bite down and give Bill a demonstration of exactly what those teeth could do to him. The fingers elected to press down onto the center of his tongue, causing Ford’s jaw to instinctively go slack and allow Bill deeper inside. They reached the back of his tongue before pausing, teetering just at the spot where the pressure still felt strangely nice, yet held the active threat of activating his gag reflex if that threshold was crossed. Bill being Bill, that limit was tested almost immediately after its discovery, causing Ford to gag around his fingers and Bill to laugh cruelly before pulling that hand out of his mouth. Despite all of the hands refusing to actually touch where Ford needed it most, his dick was painfully hard, bobbing helplessly against his thigh and leaking precum from its tip. Judging by the swift downward dart of his eye, Bill was clearly aware of and quite proud of this, leaning forward and letting a long blue tongue slip out of his lower eyelid and trace the underside of Ford’s jawline.

“Such an obedient little lab experiment,” Bill practically purred in his ear, his actions not doing anything to help Ford’s growing predicament. His plethora of hands showed no signs of stopping, some even slightly switching up their assigned movements right as Ford was starting to get used to them, just to keep him on his toes.

“Please…” Ford could no longer hold that word behind clenched teeth. Bill was well beyond the level of teasing and seemed to be happily barreling towards something closer to torment.

The hands all paused at once and Bill regarded him with an unimpressed look before re-materializing the tape recorder in a free hand. “Log observation: Getting tied up and subjected to the tiniest sprinkle of pain and nipple pinching makes subject start acting like a…what’s the scientific term? Oh yeah, a slut!” Ford’s face burned red at the combination of such crude descriptors and the way that Bill spoke about him as if he weren’t even there. As if he really were a piece of evidence on an examination table.

“I am not a… slut,” Ford protested, barely able to choke the last word out of his throat. It made him tingle to refer to himself as that, even just to refute it. He hadn’t yet decided if it was a positive or negative feeling, but at least Bill seemed to be employing it in a playful context rather than a malicious one. “I hadn’t even had anything remotely resembling a sexual encounter until I met you.”

“Could’ve fooled me with how enthusiastically you take whatever I feel like giving you! But hey, peer reviewers say I need some supporting evidence for that claim anyway. Be a dear?” Without any further warning, Bill’s eye took on its mouth form, a circular maw full of sharp teeth, and bit down onto Ford’s neck.

“Ah!” Ford had officially reached his limit when it came to quieting his moans, letting the whimpers and cries that had been welling up inside of him pour out as Bill continued to bite at his exposed flesh, from his neck down to his trembling pectoral muscles. He practically sobbed out Bill’s name when that long tongue slithered out between the gaps of the pointy teeth that were sunk into the soft flesh of his chest and rubbed at one of his oversensitive nipples. Then the pricks of the fangs withdrew from his skin, and Bill drifted back up to Ford’s face to crash their lips together. The teeth loomed threateningly just beyond the threshold of Bill’s lips as they passionately moved against Ford, who was quickly sinking into the rough kiss and moaning shakily. Bill’s tongue wasted no time in invading Ford’s mouth, exploring every space it could reach and nearly causing Ford to gag again when it dared to see just how far it could slither down his throat. After an amount of time that could have been seconds or minutes, Bill pulled back and his mouth quickly morphed back into a very pleased eye.

“Perfect demonstration, thanks Fordsy! I think that should be enough evidence to really bolster my conclusion. What’ll those bastards who called me a madman for my wild theories be able to say to me now?” He clicked the tape recorder off, and Ford felt embarrassment begin to course through him from the knowledge that Bill had him making such lewd sounds on tape. Bill seemed to notice this shame, and patted him on the bicep. “Don’t worry, I’ll only be replaying that ‘til the end of time! Nothing to concern yourself with. In fact, I think you deserve a treat for being such a good test subject back there. Deal’s a deal, after all.”

“Ah, so you won’t only be torturing me for your own sick pleasure after all?” Ford wasn’t sure where he found the gall to be playfully sarcastic with his muse, considering that his cock was still desperately throbbing with need. The once innumerable hands had dissipated by the time that Ford glanced back down at his body, making it so that his own arms were free to relax at his sides once more. Ford softly admired the marks left from the bites on his chest, and shivered to think of the claw marks raking down his back. It really was a shame that they wouldn’t carry over to his waking body.

Bill looked thoughtful, and Ford thought he may just die right there if Bill decided to take him up on that. “Torturing you for my own sick pleasure is pretty great, but I have other big plans a’brewing. Better to make you cum now so I can get that ball rolling. Hey, speaking of…” Spontaneously, which was Bill’s favorite way to do things, Bill morphed his eye back into its mouth form and quickly began trailing his tongue down Ford’s chest, floating right along behind it as it crept down and over the curve of his stomach.

As Bill reached the topmost dusting of hair on his lower stomach, Ford brought his hands up to hold onto Bill’s sides, his near-complete flatness making it a challenge to get a solid grip but not impossible. Touching Bill’s triangular body had always inexplicably combined the sensations of running his hand over a cool metal object, feeling the soft give of human flesh under slight pressure, and experiencing the powerful but contained electricity of placing a hand on a plasma globe. Bill had what felt like an undercurrent of tingly electricity just below the surface, and as he stroked his hand lovingly down Bill’s back side, it made Ford’s hair stand on end in the best of ways. Hopefully not too much, unless Bill secretly functioned as an interdimensional Van de Graaff generator. Weirder things had happened before.

“What a good boy…” Though Bill’s mouth was occupied, his voice still rang out in Ford’s mind, clear as ever. It was as though Bill was everywhere in the air around him, his words echoing through the entirety of the Mindscape just to drive Ford wild. “And you’re my good boy, riiiiight?” Bill’s tongue stopped just short of its destination and moved to lick the v-shape of muscle that ran from Ford’s hips down to his pelvis instead, tracing the shape of it at an agonizing pace.

“Yes, I am, I’m your good boy,” Ford whimpered, beginning to shake as Bill’s mouth moved ever tantalizingly closer to his neglected dick.

“Good answer.” Bill’s tongue finally made contact when it licked a stripe up his cock from above, and Ford practically hissed at the direct pleasure. After unfurling a bit more length from within Bill’s mouth and giving him one more sampling lick, the blue tongue started to wrap itself around Ford’s shaft at least three times over. The strange appendage convulsed and twitched, orienting itself like a snake constricting its prey before beginning to pump up and down. Ford’s legs buckled under the weight of it all, but there was nowhere to fall in a place without gravity, so he just went blissfully limp everywhere except where it mattered most. “There ya go, Sixer. Let your muse take care of you so you can focus on getting that Nobel Prize later. A genius like you’s too special to be getting sidetracked by animal urges like this.” Bill’s wide mouth hovered just above the tip of his cock, the teeth retracting back slightly, but not completely. Bill had a clear picture of just how much the danger excited him by now.

“I—I don’t think I can last very long if you keep that up…” Anyone else might’ve thought that Ford was referring to the physical aspect of the situation, which was fantastic, but wasn’t what was threatening to send him hurtling over the edge so soon.

“What do you mean, IQ?” If Bill’s eye were visible right then, Ford was sure it would’ve been sparkling with faux innocence in a bad attempt at covering up his mischief. “You gonna cum too fast if I say you’re the smartest human I’ve ever met in the history of your species? The only one capable of bringing your world into a new age of innovation? The first human intelligent and clever enough to be on par with me?” As if to punctuate that last remark, Bill’s mouth stretched over his entire length, the teeth that encircled his entire mouth looming within a hair’s breadth of his dick as Bill’s…throat? Inner mouth? Ford couldn’t decide on a good term fast enough, but it was certainly starting to squeeze him in a strangely pleasant way, the long tongue still wrapped around him despite no longer being visible past Bill’s closing eyelid lips.

If not for the multiple consecutive lightning bolts of arousal that were surely turning the pleasure center of his brain into a microscopic fireworks show, Ford would’ve almost laughed at how strange the situation unfolding below him looked. Currently, the entirety of his penis was somehow being contained within the mouth of an almost entirely flat being. Without his permission, his curiosity came surging to the forefront of his mind, always at the ready to guide his actions despite the unique circumstances. Ford brought one of his hands that had been gripping Bill’s corner to try and feel the back side of the triangle, as though he’d be able to decipher the secrets of Bill’s pocket dimension of a mouth through experimental touch alone. But no, fascinatingly, Bill’s featureless side spat in the face of common three-dimensional rules by feeling just as flat as ever. Ford used the last bit of his brainpower to wonder if Bill would let him measure how deep the inside of his mouth was, perhaps even get some samples of the liquid resembling saliva that his mouth produced, the same liquid that was currently lubricating his dick so well. Maybe that could serve as their foreplay next time.

“Shit, Bill…just like that, please…” Ford was trembling at the unique feeling as Bill’s mouth walls continued their cycle of squeezing and releasing, while the tongue continued to pump up and down over the outline of his dick. He began absentmindedly thrusting in time with the motions of Bill’s tongue, his hips snapping forward to chase his orgasm with reckless abandon. Ford was close, so close, and he couldn’t even truly feel any embarrassment about the speed with which he was climbing that peak considering just how thoroughly Bill was working him. Ford jolted as one of Bill’s teeth barely grazed the side of his shaft; just the dull side of a fang, luckily, but the action was still more than enough to get his attention.

“Ha, you like that, Fordsy?” Bill’s voice was practically caressing his mind, wrapping Ford up in his presence so completely. It was as though Bill’s very essence was sublimating around him, cradling his entire form and entering into his lungs to be greedily breathed in as easily as oxygen. “You’re so pretty when you look at me like that, so devoted, in awe of my touch…” A particularly breathtaking squeeze left Ford audibly panting like a dog. “And y’know what? No other human deserves my touch but you. Now be a good boy and cum for me, Stanford.”

With an irrepressible moan, Ford was tumbling over the edge, Bill’s tongue only gleefully speeding up its pumping motions to milk every drop it could manage to catch as Ford came into his muse’s mouth. His six fingers gripped Bill’s sides like a lifeline, as though he would be lost to the eternal sky of the Mindscape forever if he relaxed his grip for but a moment. Although, if it was this pleasurable to be lost to the Mindscape, perhaps he might never want to wake up. Ford was trembling as the aftershocks finally began to fade out, and only when his grip slightly loosened did Bill pull his mouth off of Ford’s cock.

“You’re a riot, kid! An absolute riot!” Bill’s tongue made a show of licking any potentially missed drops of cum on his lips before the mouth transformed back into his usual eye, his tongue tucking itself back into his eyelid once it seemed satisfied with its cleanup. “You really get into it at the end there, it’s kinda cute in sort of a gross way. Tell me, what’s that feel like in your body?”

Ford blushed at the probing question, despite the fact that Bill had been licking up his cum moments ago. “Well, I mean, I suppose it’s—”

“Actually, scratch that! You don’t have to answer me, because I plan to find out firsthand.”

“Huh?” Ford hoped that his ability to string together sentences would return soon, but his mind was still spinning out.

Bill looked as though he was beyond pleased to be admiring his handiwork on full display. “Well y’know, while I was gettin’ you off so well, I started thinking about how dream sex isn’t gonna do much to tire out your physical body, now is it? So, easy solution! I’m gonna take this show on the road. And by the road, I mean into your body.”

“A-are you serious?” It wasn’t that the idea didn’t spark Ford’s interest, quite the contrary, but this was an entirely new level of intimacy that Bill wanted to dive haphazardly into. Possession was already such a strange invasion of self on every conceivable level, though despite the side effects, it had proven to be extremely helpful as of late. But still, the idea of Bill inhabiting his body to…

“Don’t look so flabbergasted, how could I not wanna take that body for a spin myself after how good you made that look? Just a quick little yank sesh, and then you’ll be off to sleep like a little lamb.” Bill’s eye was half-lidded, a magnetic glint behind his slit pupil that made it practically impossible for Ford to say no to him, despite his deep embarrassment at the prospect.

“I don’t know if I’ll be ready to go again so soon,” Ford admitted sheepishly.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, time works differently in dreams. If I know you, and I do, you’ll probably already be waking up at half-mast again, ha!” He floated back up to ruffle Ford’s hair affectionately. “Plus, I think I might’ve worked out a way for this to be even more…mutually beneficial, than usual. I won’t spoil the surprise for you, see ya in the lab!”

With Bill’s final words, Ford felt the Mindscape closing in around him, the telltale sign that he was about to wake up. He closed his eyes as everything began to converge on him, and when he reopened them, he was looking down at a frazzled man hunched over his desk in an awkward position. Wait, not some random frazzled man, Ford realized he was actually looking down at himself. Floating outside of his body, he could truly see how exhausted his face was looking, how unhealthy self-neglect was making him. He made a conscious note to buy some more nutritious premade meals at the grocery store next time, as he almost never ended up eating anything that required any kitchen appliance beyond the humble microwave. As he made this mental note, his body stirred to life below him.

“Wow, I feel like I’m possessing a zombie!” A shrill voice rang out as the body in front of him shambled up and out of the chair. It was Bill, his yellow eyes flashing up at Ford, who would be invisible to the eyes of anyone else in his ghost-like state. That voice alone made him impossible to misplace, even if it was a sound being played on vocal cords that did not belong to him. Bill was, as in everything, utterly unmistakable to those who knew him.

“What exactly is your plan here, Bill? Why am I out here?” As Ford spoke, no air passed his intangible lips with each syllable, something that he had never thought to notice until it was jarringly absent. Normally, he would still be within his body during Bill’s possessions but dormant, unaware of anything happening. Ford had never been consciously outside of his own body before, watching as Bill maneuvered his body around like a drone. It was odd, to suddenly have to need for breath, no senses with which to interact with the world. He felt like nothing at all, a simple concept within the universe that nobody could measure or observe in any meaningful way. In truth, Ford was the simplest form of human that had ever existed: a mind untethered from its brain.

“Told you already, don’t wanna ruin the surprise.” Bill beamed up at him, a sly smile that Ford had never seen on himself. Bill wore him well. “Let’s take you up to my room.” With that, Bill piloted the body shakily out of the lab and into the elevator. Ford floated behind him apprehensively, not quite sure what his muse had in store for him, outside of the obvious.

A short elevator ride and a few swift turns brought them both to the enclosed room that Ford had been using as a makeshift meditation room, of sorts. Tapestries of Bill lined every wall, all with their eyes facing toward the center of the room, where another image of the triangle was visible on the large central rug. Altar candles littered the room alongside prismatic crystal pyramids that caught every glimmer of light available to them and refracted the beam within themselves multiple times, mesmerizingly bending and twisting the light around as if it were flowing water. A full-body mirror that used to be in his bedroom sat in front of one of the Bill tapestries, as well as a mirror that spanned the entire ceiling looming above, which Ford had installed recently in an attempt to steal glimpses into the mirror dimension that Bill mentioned during a recent meditation session.

Bill seemed to be sizing up the place, raking his eyes over every inch of the eerie windowless room. “Something’s…oh!” He snapped his fingers before swiftly pointing at the candles with a deft forefinger, causing them each to whoosh to life with a small blue flame. “That’s better!” Bill sat Ford’s body down right in the center of the rug, just shy of covering the floor symbol’s eye. He crossed his legs in the same position that Ford had become so accustomed to holding in this room, and then extended a hand to the man floating aimlessly above him. “You coming in here too, or what?”

Ford furrowed his brow in pure confusion. “Come in? But you’re already possessing my body.”

“Do you trust me or not, Sixer?”

“…You already know the answer to that.”

Bill grinned. “Then take my hand.”

Despite the seemingly impossible nature of the situation, Ford placed his wisp of a hand in Bill’s outstretched palm, his own palm. Before he could question anything else, Ford felt a force pulling him in, a black hole centered entirely on the being possessing his form. He allowed the current to pull him in; after all, he did trust in Bill. Ford all at once tumbled back into his body as if he were a man washing up onshore after a shipwreck, feeling strangely…cramped? It was the best way to describe it, feeling every nerve ending as if it were simultaneously his, and yet not. As though he had climbed through the driver’s side window of his own car and was now all tangled up with the person who had already been occupying that seat, each of them with one shaky hand on the wheel as their limbs mingled together, tying them up in knots.

“Feels…weird,” Ford murmured, awkwardly clacking his own mouth up and down as if operating a particularly complex puppet. It felt like he was trying to control his body for the first time, forcing it to obey his commands, as if he hadn’t been living his entire life within this flesh. Was this how Bill felt every time he possessed him?

“Good thing I know you like it weird, Fordsy!” And there was Bill’s grip on the vessel, his voice coming from Ford’s vocal cords and yet crackling with an otherworldly undertone to every word as he moved Ford’s jaw with less regard for its natural range of movement. Stretching the smile just wide enough to be painful, to feel the skin of his dry cracked lips split open and sting. Ford logically knew he ought to take better care of himself, but at the end of the day, coffee had caffeine and water didn’t, so the former remained his beverage of choice when working in the basement lab.

“T-true…” As Ford lifted a hand to stroke his own jawline experimentally, a more apt comparison came to mind: the sensation of two beings intermingling under his skin and within his mind made him feel like his own soul was leaking out of every pore, out of his eyes and nose and mouth, too big and shapeless to be fully contained in his body when someone else had already been inside. It took an extra initial push for Ford to get the tips of his fingers to actually graze his jaw, as it felt like his very being extended ever so slightly beyond the border of his physical form, somehow able to feel his own touch before truly making any contact. He was a glass of water filled up just past the brim, to the point where you could see the convex meniscus created by the excess liquid peeking above the tip of the cylinder, threatening to spill out over the side if a single drop more was added. Ford shivered as Bill seized control of both hands and moved them down to begin roughly undressing him, pulling off his sweater vest before moving to unbutton his loose wrinkled shirt. He seemed to pay absolutely no mind to the overwhelming sensations caused by two souls inhabiting one body. Ford considered the fact that surface tension was only so strong because the water molecules were attracted to each other, because they would always choose to tightly bond themselves together rather than fall apart. Even if their container was on the verge of overflowing.

A particularly Bill-like giggle escaped his lips. “Stanford Pines, you’re the only human in the world who could make a physics lesson sound like dirty talk.” Strangely, Ford could feel fond amusement fluttering in his chest as Bill said this. Like a child who had discovered something not meant for them, Ford came to the dawning realization that he was feeling an emotion directly from Bill as if it were his own. He was immediately struck by guilt at the idea of being able to see something that his muse had most likely not intended him to be privy to. Sharing a body meant that Bill now had access to Ford’s sensations directly, along with his usual access to his mind and emotions, and he  most likely didn’t realize that this wasn’t a one-way mirror. Ford may not have been able to access Bill’s mind, but he hypothesized that emotions must have enough of a physical link to be tangibly affecting his body. If Bill felt happiness, it would release the chemicals in Ford’s brain that correlated to happiness with no regard to who the emotion had originated with. Ford tried not to dwell on this revelation, but Bill seemed too busy fiddling with the buttons of Ford’s shirt to notice.

Bill undid the last button and fully shucked the thin shirt off of him, letting it slip from his shoulders and flutter down onto the ground below. Bill then brought his left hand up to trace his jawline, and Ford moved his head to lean into the touch. To an outsider, it would appear that he was cupping his own cheek tenderly, feeling the sparks of every inch of skin coming into contact with itself. Atoms may not normally be able to actually touch, but Ford was so certain that they were breaking every known law of physics in that moment that they simply had to be touching all the way down to an atomic level.

Ford breathed deeply, his lungs swelling with air and slowly releasing it as if for the first time. “This is absolutely extraordinary…it’s like you’re everywhere, in and around me…” He whimpered at the feeling of arousal already beginning to pool between his legs, only proving Bill right about his willingness to go again.

Bill noticed it too, a breathless gasp escaping his lips as he experienced the warm sensation from inside of Ford for the first time. “Oh, this. This is different.” Bill maneuvered a hand down to the growing bulge in his pants and squeezed, immediately choking out a whine as the contact sent lightning bolts of pleasure careening through his entire body. “Fuck, Fordsy. I thought slamming a finger in the car door was as good as it could get feelings-wise, but wow-wee! This is really something. Feels like every nerve is on fire, all at once. You just sit back and let me take care of us, you’ve more than earned it for being such a loyal devotee to your muse. And for trusting me with such a pretty offering on my altar...” He ran his fingers through Ford’s soft brown hair, as he so often loved to do in the Mindscape. “Feel free to think of this as an act of worship, if you’re into that kinda thing. Which you are, by the way. Not totally sure if you consciously knew beforehand, but you better get ready to discover something about yourself if not.” He stroked an open palm up Ford’s neck, tightening his grip around his throat just to feel the airflow briefly cut off before quickly releasing, adrenaline making them both feel dizzy. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Ford rolled his, no, their hips. “Use me, my muse. Let me be a tool for your pleasure. Reshape my lowest impulses into something holy. Please.”

Bill nearly growled, an utterly foreign sound from Ford’s own lips, and pure lust flooded their shared brain. “You know, I really do love that mind of yours.” The blue flame candles flickered as Bill methodically began stripping the remaining clothes from Ford’s body, his shoes, socks, pants, and finally shimmying off his underwear, leaving him naked in the center of the room. This time, there wasn’t the comfort of a temperature-controlled Mindscape, and Ford felt his body begin to tremble uncontrollably. Satisfied with this work, Bill laid down on the rug, looking up at the reflection above. His right eye had the telltale slit pupil that reflected Bill’s possession and was glowing yellow in the dim lighting like the eye of a cat, while the other eye was the original dark brown with white sclera that showed Ford’s presence still remained within his body. Bill moved his left hand to Ford’s shaking chest in an attempt to settle the tremors within. “Now, don’t be scared. Your muse has got you, your god lives within you. There’s nothing alive or undead that can hurt you if you have me.” His voice could almost be described as comforting in that moment, more than Ford thought the wild and unpredictable Bill was capable of.

“I’m not scared,” Ford lied. He did want this, and yet it was already almost too much all at once before it had even begun. In all likelihood, no human had ever experienced something so deeply intimate before, and Ford struggled to find language that could convey the smothering eroticism of it all even as he experienced it himself. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to describe this encounter later in his journal. And yet, a piece of him shone with pride that he would be the first one, the only human who could ever understand this profound of a connection to someone, and a higher being at that. From all his observations on relationships, it seemed that human beings spent lifetimes trying to find ways to crawl into each other’s skin in some ultimate act of true love and connection, and only Ford could say that it had been done to him. Nobody else would ever be able to even begin to comprehend a love so deep.

“That’s right, those other small-minded humans couldn’t understand us in their wildest dreams,” Bill purred, bringing Ford’s right hand up to his lips. Ford sighed deeply, his mind reeling from the emphasis on us. He’d been on his own so long, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to belong to a pair. To be with someone else and form a trusting bond greater than the sum of its parts. There was an emptiness left in him that begged to have its vacancy filled, pleaded to be truly loved, even if he refused to admit it to himself or anyone else. “Oh, and I do love you, my prophet. My lamb.” Bill softly kissed the hand in front of him, starting with one to his wrist, just above where the veins dully pulsed below the skin, before bestowing a kiss to each of his six fingers, and then repeating the process on each of his knuckles. Ford felt as though the wind had been punched out of him, blushing wildly, and a chuckle began to rattle inside of his chest that clearly came from Bill noticing the pink overtaking his cheeks.

“I—I love you too, Bill,” Ford whispered between the kisses.

“That you do, Sixer. That you do.” The kisses shifted as Bill stuck out Ford’s tongue to lick his fingers languidly, dragging his tongue up from each finger’s base to tip as if he were following the steps of an established ritual. He then moved to lick his entire palm, pressing the broad flat side of his tongue to the soft skin and moving his hand downward until his fingertips brushed gently against his chin. Hand sufficiently wet with saliva, Bill kept Ford’s left hand planted firmly over his racing heart while his right hand snaked its way down to his already-hard dick, letting out a hiss  when his fingers grazed the sensitive skin. “This body sure is something to write home about, kid. I think I’m starting to get why you wanted to sit around and do this all day instead of working on the portal.”

Ford fought for control of his tongue, now having to overcome both his body’s desire to go limp and Bill’s strong control of it if he wanted to get a word in. “Wanted…to do it with you all day.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. You’re pretty terrible at hiding your perverted little fantasies, but at least they were always creative. Boring is just about the worst thing a human can be, and you, Sixer, have never given me a dull moment. Feel free to let that compliment go to your head. Either one.” Bill closed Ford’s hand around the length of his cock just a bit too fast and rough to properly settle into, ripping only more sounds of indeterminate origin from their shared vocal cords. He began to piston his fist up and down, eyes pointed up at the towering ceiling mirror to get the full image of the scene. It was something to behold, Ford’s body draped in such an aesthetically pleasing manner across the center rug, naked and surrounded by flickering otherworldly candles. Not to mention that looking at his own eyes in the mirror was the closest they could get to eye contact, considering the current situation.

Bill’s movements were clearly unpracticed, twisting and adjusting his grip as he tried to find the best way to please both of them. The way that Bill pumped his cock roughly and without much natural rhythm made it clear that he was being led purely by clumsy sensation, by some innate instinct that was activated simply by residing within a human’s body. Apparently, it was a very different experience for Bill to puppet Ford’s physical body for self-pleasure than it was to simply give him an astral handjob in the Mindscape. But then again, Ford realized that of course it was different; Bill hadn’t been experiencing such powerful sensations as though they were his own back then. Now, instead of having the benefit of distance to control his own reactions and mind his technique, he was right there in the deep end alongside Ford, trying to maintain his usual composure and clearheaded control under much more distracting new circumstances. Ford could feel his growing frustration with the fact that he wasn’t immediately picking up on the perfect method of touching himself.

“May I?” Ford offered, tugging at the metaphorical strings of control enough that his muse could feel it. Surprisingly, Bill silently relented, retreating back into himself to allow Ford to take the reins for a moment. His hands once again under his command, Ford moved his left hand up to his chest to teasingly circle his nipples. His right hand moved back to his cock, much more slow and deliberate than Bill would ever think to take things if left to his own devices. He lightly stroked his balls, eliciting a shiver from somewhere deep within him, almost certainly from Bill, who was still very much connected to his nervous system. Ford ran his fingertips up the full length of his hard member, relishing the way it twitched under the light touch. He ran his thumb over the head, whimpering at the sensation as he pressed his thumb to the slit. Only then did he return to stroking himself, starting with slow and measured pumps before slightly picking up the tempo, matching his body’s pleas for more only when they made themselves apparent. “Like this.” With that, he loosened his grip on the strings of control, a nonverbal cue for Bill to take back over.

Bill returned to the forefront of control, taking back Ford’s hands and moving them as he was shown. “Hmph, big deal, you know how to jack off. What do ya want, a medal?” Despite his jabs, Ford could feel a mixture of relief and desire flooding his mind as Bill continued to stroke him. He was doing well once he had guidance, and Ford couldn’t help but groan a bit as Bill accompanied a particularly teasing stroke with a thumb to his cock’s head. His muse was nothing if not a quick learner.

“Fuck, just like that, please…” Ford regarded himself in the mirror above as Bill continued his work, pressure quickly beginning to build from his desperate but certainly more pleasurable motions. Ford had never seen himself look so debauched, lips parted and eyes heavily lidded as he pursued his own bliss with no regard for anything else. As Bill shifted Ford’s left hand to lightly pinch his nipples and continued touching himself with the other hand, he bucked under the stimulation, arching his back so abruptly that he felt as though he was about to start levitating off of the floor. Ford couldn’t help but acknowledge how much he looked like…well, a man possessed.

Bill panted heavily, seemingly not used to feeling the burning need of oxygen in his lungs. “Hey, just thought of this, you should totally get a few ribs removed so I can experience my own blowjobs! By the way you react, I must be great at them. Bet that’d be nice right about now.”

“Not…doing that.”

“Hmph. Selfish.” Bill sulked for a moment before crudely flicking his nipple, the immediate jolt of Ford’s body in response to it certainly lifting his spirits. “You make such adorable, dumb faces during it, though. I wanna try…”

Ford suddenly became very aware of the fact that Bill could perceive him. “Hm, actually, are you watching me now? Watching us now?” It was hard to ignore the flat effigies in Bill’s image that surrounded him on nearly all sides, their eyes burning down on Ford hungrily. Was he was just imagining the way that their pupils seemed to carefully track his every move?

“We’re seeing out of the same eyes. Clearly I have to be watching you if you’re watching yourself in the reflection, Narcissus.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What, you need to be surrounded by an entire stadium of devilishly handsome triangles to get off now?” Bill chuckled, lower and more contained than his usual boisterous cackle. “Come on, Sixer. You should know by now that I’m always watching you. And yeah, I do have some pretty good angles to choose from right now.” He sped up his ministrations, the precum that was rapidly leaking from Ford’s tip helping him along. “Now make some pretty sounds for your muse, why don’t ya?” Ford felt Bill’s grasp on control strengthen, leaving Ford to simply ride it out. With every pump of his hand, Bill was flexing his core muscles and rocking up into it, leaving Ford to feel as though he were floating in a raging ocean where he could barely keep his head above water. He simply surrendered himself to the mounting waves as they continued to buffet him with no resistance, letting Bill guide him to his release. Ford could only find it in himself to whine helplessly as the pressure kept building and building until it hit him all at once, every muscle in his body tensing as he crossed the threshold and came with a snap of his hips right into his hand, partially coating his lower stomach in the sticky substance. Ford let out a high-pitched moan as he emptied himself into the cool air, though perhaps Bill was moaning too, as the line that divided the two of them had long since blurred. Bill seemed to enjoy what was surely his first human orgasm, biting down so hard on his lip that it nearly bled as the tingling shocks overwhelmed his nervous system, eventually dying down to a low buzz under his skin. As Ford’s brain fog began to dissipate and he returned to the real world, he was immediately met with the fact that Bill was still pumping his cock with no sign of halting.

“Bill, you can stop now,” Ford slurred, the back of his head pressed against the soft fabric of the rug and still spiraling from his climax.

“But I want another one,” Bill answered simply, with the petulance of a spoiled child and the entitlement of a revered deity.

“That’s-that’s not how it works,” Ford stuttered, bewilderment surely visible in his expression. “You’re only going to…” The stimulation was beginning to feel more painful than pleasant by the second, his softening dick practically shrinking away from the unending attention. “Bill, without a break, it’s not gonna be possible for me to—”

Bill took over Ford’s mouth with a snort, not letting up in his motions. “Possible? Oh, ye of little faith! Don’t you know that through me, all things are possible?” The whole situation seemed to be striking Bill as nothing short of hilarious.

“Bill, please,” Ford whimpered, tears beginning to prick the corners of his eyes from pure overstimulation. The feedback loop of his overworked nerves sending distress signals to his brain was really taking its toll more quickly than he’d care to admit.

“Aww, but I thought this is what you wanted so bad just a few minutes ago? It felt so good before, what happened?” And there was that familiar cackle, the condescending laugh that made it clear to Ford that he was not going to be able to talk Bill out of trying for one more orgasm, facts of anatomy be damned. Ford felt a mixture of emotions overtake him, all swirling around in the pit of his stomach in the midst of his overstimulation. Irritation prickled his skin like needles at his logical explanations being utterly ignored, while the idea of now being completely at Bill’s mercy crept up on his mind with a sort of dawning horror, the utter helplessness of his current position only worsening the feeling. And, most shamefully, it caused his traitorous mind to conjure up an image of Bill splaying his body out on the floor to chase orgasm after orgasm without a break, becoming a mere vessel of pleasure for Bill to inhabit during his most hedonistic whims, which only served to make his cock pitifully throb.

Bill didn’t miss a beat. “Ooh-hoo, I knew you had a little masochistic streak in you. Let’s zoom and enhance on that one and see where it takes us.” He insistently tugged at Ford’s cock, seemingly perplexed at the fact that it wasn’t responding as usual. One might assume based on his demeanor that Bill innocently just couldn’t understand why this was happening, if not for the fact that Ford had literally told him mere moments before. Despite the humiliation of losing control over his oversensitive body, Ford truly wanted nothing more than for Bill to absolutely ruin him. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he knew that he didn’t really have to. Bill practically knew his deepest desires before he did, and despite his annoying condescension, there was an undeniable comfort to that.

As his sensitive cock was continuously lavished with attention, Ford threw his head back and almost wailed at the incessant cocktail of pain and pleasure that he just couldn’t get away from. “Oh, you absolute stubborn demon of a—”

“What was that?” Bill’s voice reverberated with bass, almost as if part of it came from outside of the body he was possessing. The hand he had been controlling stopped moving to instead squeeze Ford’s length harshly. Ford jolted, but then he felt something worse: the indignation, the actual anger, that was flooding Bill’s mind as if it were his own.

“I—” Ford’s blood ran cold. What had he just said? To Bill Cipher? His muse? Any tangible emotions of Bill’s were quickly drowned out by the absolute mortification that took hold of Ford in that moment, and Bill certainly felt it too.

“You think you can insult your muse like that and get away with it?” Bill’s grip on his cock intensified, causing Ford to make a choked sound. Bill clearly didn’t seem to mind the pain quite so much. “You haven’t even seen stubborn! I’ll show you stubborn, Stanford Pines.”

“My muse, I didn’t mean anything by it—” Ford’s voice was gone. As though his throat were being stepped on, he felt his vocal cords tighten and refuse to move, feeling similar to guitar strings tuned much too tightly. Of course, the moment that Bill went to speak, his throat relaxed as if there were no issue at all.

“What’s that? Can’t hear ya, Sixer. Blasphemers can’t talk to god!” Hot arousal shot through Ford at the otherworldly rumbling undertone of Bill’s voice, the intensity of his grip, the red hot fury that coursed through his bloodstream. Bill’s anger faltered for a moment at the warm blooming sensation before he huffed out a half-laugh. “What, is fear really the only thing that gets you going? I always pegged you for a freak, but you really do give me a run for my money.” He loosened his grip on Ford’s cock and instead traced his fingers up his stomach, skating them around the sensitive flesh on his way up. “I can be frightening. If that’s what you really want.” He wrapped his free hand around Ford’s throat, relishing the bob of his Adam’s apple under the commanding pressure. “Well? Speak, dog.”

Ford swallowed hard, and when he finally gathered enough air in his lungs to speak, it was no louder than a whisper. “Punish me for insulting you. Put the fear of god back in me.”

A wide grin spread itself across Ford’s face as Bill’s arousal pooled in his stomach. “There’s a good pet.” Bill lifted his body upward until he was sitting up, then moved to rest on his knees. His kneecaps sunk into the plush rug, and Ford was taken aback to see the full-body mirror right in front of his face. It was much closer than the ceiling mirror, allowing him to really take in the details of his naked form up close. His own face looked almost unrecognizable in the low light of the scattered blue candles, long shadows cast over his features and eyes dark with lust as they raked over his reflection. “Try to take control,” Bill ordered, practically salivating at the mere idea. “See if you can overpower me. If you can’t, it’s back to petting that deliciously sensitive cock again ‘til I get bored of it.”

Ford blinked at the order, and Bill took this moment of surprise to begin trailing Ford’s right hand teasingly down his torso, his end goal quite clear. Eyes widening, Ford then began to pull back at the strings of his own body. He tried to recover control of his right arm, using all of his strength to pull it away from its downward path. Nothing. It slowed a bit, stuttering as if it were glitching in its attempt to complete its normal motion, but Ford couldn’t stay its course completely. In lieu of this, he shot out his left hand to grab at his right wrist, wrapping his fingers around the appendage that was fully out of his control. For a moment, it seemed like an even match. He had a solid grip on the wrist under Bill’s control, able to keep it in place right where he’d caught it with its fingertips brushing his lower stomach. Suddenly, Ford’s entire head shot forward without permission and his teeth sank into the soft flesh of his left forearm, drawing a shaky gasp from his occupied mouth. Ford only strengthened his grip around his rogue wrist, fear flashing in his eyes as he willed himself to not let go. Bill responded in kind by clamping his jaw down tighter around the supple flesh, an animalistic snarl acting as his only warning before he broke the skin. Ford choked out something between a muffled sob and a moan before relenting his grasp on the wrist. Bill quickly took over full command of his body as Ford was pushed out of control from the shock, sticking out his tongue to greedily lap up the pinpricks of scarlet red blood left behind by his harsh bite.

“De-licious! See, and now you’ve got a souvenir just like you wanted.” Bill ran his tongue over the indent of teeth in his arm, tracing the shape of what would surely be a noticeable and difficult to explain mark for the next few days. “Welp, looks like I’m just way stronger than you even in your own body. So sad, too bad! Guess I can do whatever I want with you now.” With a sensation that made Ford lurch forward, Bill was once again back to palming his cock. He concentrated his attention only on the head, rubbing the palm of his hand in circular motions over the very top. Bill seemed to love the feeling of it by the way he arched his back and groaned, but on the other side of the coin, he might as well have been torturing Ford for information. He was finally able to begin hardening again, but now the stimulation being given to him was all wrong. Ford could only whimper and babble incoherently as he squirmed against the horrible sensation, making his dick absolutely ache with need. Ford could only think to describe it as cruel, it was a cruel punishment meant to torment him with exactly what he wanted, but not enough to get him to cum. With Bill taking full control of his body, it wasn’t unlike the sensation of being tied down, except that his body was doing all of the restraining itself. Ford wanted nothing more than for the overpowering feeling to stop, but even if it did, he knew he would just be reduced to begging for more. Ford couldn’t quite hold in a labored sob as his body practically convulsed from the onslaught of overstimulation, his eyes watering and threatening to spill over onto his cheeks.

“Soooo sensitive,” Bill cooed, not letting up despite his mock concern. “Crybaby.” Bill lifted Ford’s unoccupied left hand and hooked three fingers into his mouth, quickly thrusting them in and out to coat them with saliva. After a few harsh pumps, he pulled the fingers from his mouth with a pop and leaned forward just enough to spread his asscheeks, teetering in a precariously balanced position. As Ford quickly realized Bill’s intentions, he saw both of his mismatched eyes flash in the mirror with pure wild emotion. His expression somehow contained both Bill’s smug determination and his own fearful excitement. Pausing his palming of Ford’s cock to really bask in the moment, Bill brought his index finger to circle his rim teasingly, his delight palpable.

“Beg for my forgiveness.”

Ford inhaled, steadying himself. “Please, Bill—”

“Call me your muse. Call me your fucking god.”

“…Please, my muse, my god, please forgive me. I’m a sinful vessel, but my life is dedicated to you. Grant me your forgiveness, please.” Ford was shaking like a leaf, half of his blood rushing to his face while the rest of it settled into his dick.

“Hm…” Bill seemed to weigh his words carefully, tilting his head as though deep in thought. He then leaned even farther forward, pressing his lips to the cool glass of the mirror where Ford’s reflection met his possessed body for a breathy kiss. “No.” Ford didn’t have time to formulate any sort of response before a finger was being pressed into him, ripping a moan from his throat as it stroked inside of him. The wetness from his saliva helped with the stretch, but it still had him panting and shaking as it curled inside of him. Balance unsteady, Ford leaned forward until his left cheek was pressed up against the glass of the mirror, and the pupil of his yellow eye blown wide with desire was easily visible at this close range. Once Ford had almost adjusted to the intrusion of the first finger, Bill slipped another inside of him and pushed both deeper, quickly finding the spot that made Ford see stars.

“Right there!” Ford twisted and thrusted his hips against the fingers, trying so hard to keep them hitting that spot. After Bill’s torturous treatment since his last orgasm, Ford was just grateful for actual, genuine stimulation for him to chase. He rocked back against his own fingers, and Bill showed off his multitasking skills by returning the other hand to its work on his cock as well. With one last mean twist to make sure he was satisfied with how thoroughly he’d polished Ford’s cock head with his wet palm, Bill finally slid his hand down the shaft and began stroking up and down. A third finger entered Ford to coincide with the heightened pleasure of his dick receiving the attention it craved so badly, and his cheek smushed itself even harder against the glass of the mirror. His breath was quickly fogging it up, and having the side of his head pressed against the hard surface knocked his glasses slightly askew, hopefully not bending them.

“Look at you,” Bill whispered, a smirk cracking through Ford’s open-mouth stupor. “Look at what I can do to you. Look at how much you love me, Stanford. Could some pathetic human ever give you this?”

“No,” Ford panted, the constant stimulation of both his fingers and his hand becoming almost too much to bear.

“Whose altar have you sacrificed yourself on? Who do you belong to?”

“B-Bill Cipher…”

“There you are. There’s my devoted worshipper.” Bill’s movements were becoming erratic and unpredictable as Ford’s body approached its third climax of the night, and Bill tilted his head to give the mirror another open-mouth kiss. “And you’re all mine.”

“All yours,” Ford breathed into the kiss. It was just hard glass against his lips, nothing real or warm outside of his own hot breath hitting the surface and blowing back into his face, but it still felt about as passionate and loving as a kiss from a mirror was capable of being.

Bill arched forward into the kiss enthusiastically. “Oh, that’s it, I’m keeping you with me forever…you and me, god and zealot, it's the perfect matchup. Gonna keep fucking you like this ‘til the last star in the last dimension in existence burns out. ' ,      ,  …” Bill was visibly losing himself in pure pleasure, gasping out words in a language that Ford had never heard before. It felt odd for his mouth to be moving in a way that no human’s mouth had probably ever moved before to form words that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but he’d have to ask for a multidimensional language lesson later.

Bill’s control of the situation seemed to be turning more slippery and unsure by the moment as his mind fizzled into rapturous nonsense, pressing Ford’s face against the mirror even harder as if trying to ground himself in Ford’s touch, despite the fact that they were already both inhabiting the same body. A rare glimpse of desperation and vulnerability from his otherworldly god truly took Ford by surprise and absolutely rocked him to his core, heightening the feeling of his fingers massaging his prostate and his cock being deliciously pumped and ultimately sending him tumbling over the edge right then and there. His cock pulsed rapidly and his asshole clenched tightly around his fingers as a sensation that tingled like television static traveled from the soles of his feet, up his spine, and dissipated in his head. He cried out as his cum landed on the mirror in front of him, significantly less than last time but still enough to leave a mess. This time, Ford’s orgasm took much longer to linger in his body before it began finally fizzling out, and only then did Bill release his dick and pull his fingers out of him. Without the balance provided by Bill’s stronger control, Ford was left to slump forward and slide down the mirror until he was almost entirely on the ground in a heap. The entire world spun, and Ford wondered if Bill was having just as hard of a time coming back down from that one.

“Bill…? You still with me?”

A smile cracked his lips once more. “Never better, Fordsy.” Bill rolled over onto his side, Ford’s chest rising and falling at a gradually slower pace. He glanced down at the white cum dripping pitifully from Ford’s cock, and swiftly swooped down a hand to gather what he could on the pads of his six fingers. Ford suppressed a shiver as Bill brought the hand back up to his lips and slowly laved his tongue across the wet fingers, licking up the bitter cum with a tantalizingly slow eroticism. Ford let him finish cleaning up until he seemed satisfied with a job well done.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, I hope you know that,” Ford languished, reeling from the whole experience.

“I do know it,” Bill replied simply, seeming quite happy with himself. “Hey, one more thing before you pass out from exhaustion. Wanna see something cool I just discovered in your brain? It can be like, a fun little surprise.”

Ford blinked harshly. “Uh, maybe…?” A “fun little surprise” from Bill had been observed to range from a modern art piece of dead rats on his doorstep to a revelation about the deepest, most mind-boggling secrets of the universe, so caution was advisable regardless of where it fell on that spectrum.

“Wonderful! Welp, here goes nothin’.” With no time for Ford to digest just how uneasy he felt about Bill messing with delicate wires in his brain with the same carefree energy that he might reserve for absentmindedly tinkering with some cheap old contraption, Bill’s metaphorical hands were already prodding around in his brain. It was like a space that he had never realized was empty getting filled, Bill exploring the nooks and crannies of both his incorporeal mind and his physical brain. “Let’s see here…ah, this right here!”

As simple and casual as a switch flipped, Bill pressed into something deep within Ford’s brain that ripped an unexpected gasp from the man, toes curling and body writhing as if in horrific pain. Except no, he wasn’t in pain, but it took a moment for his brain to catch up with his body’s knee-jerk reaction and realize it was exactly the opposite: he was somehow having another orgasm. It shouldn’t have been possible, and yet these ideas of impossible didn’t seem too important when Ford was curling into a fetal position at the startling barrage of pressure exploding from within him. Without a buildup, or even an idea of what was about to happen to him, his orgasm was so shocking as to render him speechless and unthinking on the floor. He gulped for air as the feeling mercifully died down, leaving him to twitch and shudder in the aftermath. He realized hazily that he hadn’t actually ejaculated despite orgasming, very possibly because his body simply didn’t have anything left to give so soon.

“Wowza, I’ve already got you shooting blanks,” Bill contributed helpfully, shaking right along with Ford where they laid as one. “Y’know, you’ve turned me into a real big fan of getting those the traditional way, but I’m not opposed to cheating at this game, either.”

Ford swallowed, feeling the beginning of laughter, of all things, start to bubble up in his chest at the absurdity of what had just happened to him. “Bill, you…are something else.” Ford’s voice was a raspy, fucked-out mess, but still softened as he reached out for Bill within himself.

“I know, you love it. And hey, didn’t I tell you all things are possible through your muse? And you didn’t believe me! For shame.” He could feel Bill edge ever closer to the button again, as if he were teasingly running his fingers along the top of it. “Did you learn a valuable lesson today?”

Ford’s spine stiffened on impulse. “Yes, my muse.”

“Whaaaaat was it?” An inch closer to pressing that damned button.

“All things…are possible through you.”

“Attaboy!” Bill backed off of his brain, and Ford felt the tension he was unknowingly carrying in his muscles evaporate all at once, leaving him feeling boneless. “Y’know, this is a real handy trick you’ve got here. I think it’d be pretty funny to flip this switch next time you least expect it, just as a hilarious little prank to keep life interesting, you know, human enrichment. Maybe I’ll do it one of these times you waste precious portal-building time chatting with that annoying hillbilly!” Bill practically erupted into laughter at his own idea, while Ford felt his entire face burn bright red with humiliation at the mere thought of it. Having to hide his reaction to Bill literally flipping an orgasm switch in front of Fiddleford with no warning beforehand sounded like an impossible task, and Ford couldn’t help but imagine his lab partner’s eyes flashing with recognition if he realized what exactly was going on. “Eh, but then again, he’d probably like that a little too much. That guy’s like ninety percent desperation with absolutely zero self respect to temper it. I bet he’d roll over like a dog for you if you asked him real nice, heh.” Bill’s amusement quickly melted into distaste. “Ugh, okay, I’m hating that image more with every second that it spends in my brain. Don’t go getting any ideas from that, you have a job to do. And besides, I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. The only one who gets to be your little stress toy.” Bill flexed his fingers as if miming how he would squeeze a stress ball.

Ford couldn’t help but giggle at the comparison. “You’re more than that to me. You are my whole world, truly.”

“I’d say you’ve made that pretty clear,” Bill laughed. He struggled to return Ford’s breathing back to a resting rate for both of them. “Gotta say, you never fail to entertain, Stanford Pines. What a ride. Glad I found a way to come along for that one.”

Ford’s chest swelled with affection. “Thank you, Bill. For everything, truly. You do so much for me that you don’t have to, and now I can work twice as hard to finish the portal. For you. I love you, my muse.” He raised a hand to his cheek and cupped it softly, wrapping his other arm across his chest to hold his shoulder in a tight hug. It was the closest thing to cuddling Bill that he could manage. Every cell in his body screamed at Ford to get as close to Bill as possible in this post-coital bliss, even as they were intertwined in one body. It really was a biological itch that could never truly be scratched, he supposed.

“Yeah, yeah, you know I feel the same about all that.” Bill wiggled out of his own grasp and instead hoisted Ford’s body off of the ground, coming up to perch on two wobbly knees. “Well, your body definitely seems to be begging for rest after all that. Let’s get you to an actual bed.”

“I’d like that,” Ford murmured, already feeling his consciousness ebbing as Bill piloted his body back to his bedroom, the shack's dusty wooden floors creaking and groaning with every step he took. Outside, the first snow of the season began to fall.

***

Bill’s eye flashed open with a shock, darting around in an attempt to take in his surroundings with a disoriented mind. For a moment, he was able to trick himself into believing that the events in his memory were from just that previous night, replaying after the day had ended. Unfortunately, one glance at the white cushioned walls covered from floor to ceiling with a menagerie of poor quality crayon drawings brought him right back to reality.

A fury strong enough to make him fight back tears threatening to prick his eye enveloped Bill completely, filling his entire body and causing him to dig his claws into the plush bed below him. After a moment, the burning rage was flushed out of his system by the onset of some unidentifiable emotion, certainly not soul-consuming regret and loneliness stacked on top of each other in a trench coat trying to sneak into his mind. Bill Cipher didn’t need anyone, aside from some lackey to break him out of this D-tier ex-villain dog pound.

“You can still turn this around, Billy,” he soothed himself quietly, attempting to re-center his mind after that outburst. “You’ve got all the time in the world. Sixer’s still moody about your little spat, but he’s gotta cool down eventually. He’ll remember the good times when he sees the book, and you’ll be out of here with a kiss on the cheek in no time. Just gotta play along with the rest of the looney bin in the meantime.” Bill rolled over to his side, grabbing a pillow and curling his body around it in an attempt at seeking physical comfort. “You’re fine. You’re fine. Things can still go back to how they were. He’ll be calling you his muse again in no time.” An unhelpful voice from the back of his brain reminded Bill that he could’ve held Ford for a much longer time on that night in his memory, if only he hadn’t immediately put a stop to it when he felt himself begin to buckle under his favorite human’s genuinely affectionate touch.