Chapter Text
Grace had a choice to make.
Grace sat in the cockpit, cerulean gaze light years away as he stared out the capsuled window. The steady rhythm of the Mary’s detection radar added to the ambiance of the compartment. His hand had stilled on the navigation shift, palming the top of the lever instead of clicking the trigger or applying pressure. It was too early for him to be here and too early to position the Mary to disconnect from the Blip A but he needed a place to think. The blond sighed through his nose.
What was wrong with him? Everything was supposed to be a hair’s breath from being wrapped up nice and tidy in a Petrova colored bow. He’d successfully managed to complete the Taumeba farms using Rocky’s Xenonite designs, Rocky had woken up. They partied. And then Grace had woken up to the red LED glare of emergency signals and Mary’s affable tone informing him of a contaminant detection. He’d managed to isolate the issue, Taumeba having evolved to eat through Rocky’s Xenonite containers, and secured everything well enough that the leak had been contained.
But Rocky wouldn’t be able to transport the Taumeba tanks to Erid on the Blip A. Not with this development. Two individuals needed to go home. There was only one vessel. It was enough of an emotional roller coaster for Grace to accept Rocky’s gift of fuel to even return to Earth in the first place. And if he brought Rocky back to Erid, what then? Erid’s atmosphere would kill him. How would he eat?
The concept of food rationing lead Grace down another dark train of thought. If he did decide to go to Erid, he wouldn’t only be feeding himself. He’d some how acquired a plus one.
It had resulted in some delays in their expedition to Adrian, due to a bizarre, unidentified vessel floating in the inky abyss and the subsequent stranger inside.
Simon. Torn nearly to shreds, face and any exposed flesh grimy with coagulated viscera. It had taken about a week for Grace to nurse him back to consciousness. They weren’t able to save his arm, to which he’d had his own processing to do after waking up with a stump. Another half week, and he’d been able to walk around on his own. During that time he’d divulged to Grace, in the simplest terms he could manage, how he’d ended up in the Iron Lung and a vastly abridged account of the events on Eden. He didn’t go into names, or specifics. But he spoke of brothers, betrayal and the pain of being forced into a cage, both literal and proverbial, and shown no mercy for his circumstances. While in the blood ocean, Simon recalled the constant dangling of his prize, his freedom, his life in front of his face as motivation. How it was given, ripped away, too many times during his bouts of lucidity within the vessel to not break away at his sanity.
‘Please.. I just wanna live,’
The entire recollection of what Simon had gone through weighed heavily in Grace’s mind. And while Simon had mentioned the importance of the black box he’d attempted to save, he didn’t mention it again after he saw the stars dotting the expanse outside the Hail Mary. He’d cried when Grace explained his and Rocky’s mission. That there had been an astrological disaster affecting the stars, one that was causing the stars to go out and subsequently, take the planets with them. Simon didn’t talk much about Eden or the C.O.I after that.
Grace leaned his head back in the Pilot seat, his hand pressing flat against his face before dragging downward in exhaustion. He tried another deep inhale, pressing his hands together against his lips thoughtfully.
It was one thing to take Simon back to Earth with him. That had been the plan. It was easy and sweet. He’d offered a million times over to help get the newly freed man acclimated once they’d returned. But now.. now he had to tell this man who’s had everything ripped away from him, ‘Oh! Sorry about that, I was just kidding about going back to Earth. We cool?’
“Fuck.” Grace lowered his head, leaning his forehead against his head, nudging his glasses askew.
“Damn Grace, you speak to Rocky with that mouth?”
The blond jolted his head up at the voice. Speak of the devil.
Below the pilot seat, a few feet down the compartment was the hatch required to access the rest of the ship. Grace’s eyes followed the direction of the voice, palming a hand against his chest to soothe his startled nerves.
”Jeezes,” Grace huffed out. Simon had found his hiding spot and was situated half through the hatch opening and holding the door up with one arm, his prosthetic forearm bracing against the cockpit floor as he heaved himself upward. Grace couldn’t help the corner of his lips tug into a small half smile at the idea that Simon had followed him. He was rarely far behind him these days.
His smile was short lived though. Something about Simon’s demeanor was off. His brows were curved into the slightest furrow but he was hunched in a way to made him look.. small. Despite the quip at his language, Simon looked.. shaken as he peered at the biologist through the messy mop of brown waves.
“…You ok, Simon?” He asked, swiveling the pilot seat to face the brunette below him. Simon seemed to perk up, raising his brows upon realizing his stoicism had slipped. That was becoming more common around Grace.
“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” He nods quickly a few times, heaving onto his feet and bracing a boot against one of the paneled walls to better hoist himself up to meet Grace’s gaze at eye level. The compartment was awkward and incredibly too narrow for two adult men to trounce about comfortably. Simon was unable to stand all the way up and his other option was craning his neck uncomfortably stiff to stare at the scientist from the floor. Not ideal. Especially when it seemed he wanted to be within Grace’s orbit at the moment. So he hunched slightly as a compromise.
Grace watches him carefully, tilting his head. Quiet was not uncommon for Simon but there was a weight to this silence. Eventually, Simon stood before a seated Grace, his organic hand bracing the ceiling above him to keep him steady.
“You uh..” Simon wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Grace cocked a brown. He looked.. sweaty and his pupils completely dilated. “You weren’t in bed,” He offers finally.
Grace’s eyes squint in befuddlement. Simon, realizing this was not a satisfactory explanation for his intrusion of Grace’s alone time, clears his throat and tries again.
”Th.. The lights were going all crazy,” He gestures with a pointed finger non-elegantly and averts his gaze. “And the sound of the alarm and Mary going off,” Simon sounds like he’s babbling. He rubs the scruff of his neck roughly before letting his hand drop to his side with a sigh.
“Everything good?” Simon asks after a grunt to clear his throat. It takes a moment for Grace to realize what has shaken his guest so.
Simon had described his final moments in the Iron Lung before. Grace felt a pang of guilt wrench his chest as he looked up at the brunette thoughtfully. His hand slips from the shift, he smiles, then gives a gentle pat to the side of Simon’s leg in leue of a more routine shoulder squeeze due to their awkward positioning. Instinctively, he wants quip ‘Yeah, buddy. Everything’s fine.’ But the words die on his parted lips.
He stares up at Simon, mouth agape as he tries to find the words to explain the absolutely devastating news that is by all means Simon’s right to know. Grace’s lips move slightly but still no words come out as his other hand absentmindedly caresses the fabric of the man’s pant leg. It’s a motion of self-soothing, his own body’s forced attempt at regulation as his anxiety combs through his vocabulary to search for the right words.
“Grace?” Simon’s brows raise, perplexed.
“I…” Grace’s throat feels dry and there’s a rasp in his voice. He clears his throat. “I have some bad news,” He says finally, his hand retreating to rest both arms on his knees and hang his head.
The biologist goes on to explain as best he can, what went wrong with the fuel, the breeding tanks and the subsequent dilemma of whether to return to Earth and leave Rocky to die or use the Hail Mary to bring him to Erid. He goes on to explain the eventual complications of their rations and that Erid’s Atmosphere is toxic to them. They would have to live the rest of their lives, or at least until the food runs out, on the Mary, orbiting a home that was never theirs.
Simon listens intently, and his expression slowly shifts from panic to pensive.
“And listen, if it was just me, I’d send those stupid beetles back to Earth. I’ve made peace with dying before, I can do it again” Grace lies through his teeth. It doesn’t matter. His feelings are not important in this moment.
“But you?” He pushes his sneakers off the floor, shoving the pilot seat back and away from Simon and turns to one of the many control decks adorning the cock pit.
“What, I’m gonna rescue you from one tiny metal prison and now I’m gonna .. keep you in a slightly bigger one till we both die?” The blond man twists his head slightly in Simon’s direction, gesturing vaguely with his hands in frustrated, wide sweeping motions.
”But I.. I just can‘t let Rocky die. And he can’t let Erid die,” Grace mutters, more to himself than Simon and props his elbows on one of the control decks before him. He holds his head in exasperation and rubs his temples with his index and thumb.
A pause. A scoff of loathing causes Grace to shudder. He leans back, crossing an arm over his chest while he gestures with his free hand.
“I mean, heck. Erid actually wants Rocky back. Did you know he’s even got a mate waiting for him?” The blond points to Simon as if to punctuate his question, his brows raised and lips curled into a smile that can only be described as hurt. He whips his head back to the cochophany of monitors and screens. The man leans forward with feigned interest in the contents displayed there and yet his babbling continues. With another scoff, he continues.
”I mean, Earth didn’t want me back,” Grace is smiling wider, enough that Simon can see his teeth. The shorter man’s brows are furrowed as his hand remains propped against a ceiling panel.
“And guess what?” Grace turns back to Simon, bracing his hands on his knees in mock excitement. “I didn’t even want to go! I just remembered this!” He lets out a breathless, exasperated laugh. “I was on the ground! ‘Stop, stop, you're murdering me!’” The man's hands give a slight wave for faux comedic emphasis before a long pause follows. Grace comes to realize how erratic his breathing had become. His smile falls as he leans back in the pilot seat and chair frame groaning with a mechanical creak at the shift in weight. He swivels so he’s facing away from Simon and looks out the capsuled window at the stars.
”I said I was going to sabotage the mission and they stabbed me with a needle and threw me into space,” Grace confesses quietly, shoulders and chest heaving with a sharp inhale. He throws his hands up and lets them drop in defeat. “Like, what if!’ He posits, “What if I just left the Earth to die? Hypothetically, Simon?” He looks at the younger man and adds in his usual manner of humorous punctuating quips, but there’s an emptiness there.
Grace takes a shuddered inhale and claps a hand tightly over his eyes, throwing his head back.
“Jeezes I can’t believe I just said that,” The taller man says with a rasp, throat dry from all the talking and rubs his temples in another attempt to self-soothe. It doesn’t work and his chest burns with pangs of shame and guilt.
Finally, Simon speaks.
“Let it die,” Simon agrees firmly, his organic hand tensing the pads of his fingers against the ceiling panel. Grace lets out a snort, continuing the ministrations against his forehead.
“Si, no— Come on,” He responds cooly and in a tone reserved for dismissing outlandish ideas from his students.
“I’m serious,” The brunette moves further into the cabin and closer to the blond man.
“Because what the fuck do you mean they threw you into space?” Simon spits the words with a sort of venom that Grace felt was almost patronizing. The teacher grimaces under his hand, squeezing the bridge of his nose, nudging his glasses atop his head in the process.
“Burn it down,”
“Simon, please—” Grace says firmly, fanning his fingers out in frustration and squeezing his eyes shut. In another context, he might’ve been flattered by such a reaction to the nature of his presence aboard the Mary. But Simon’s nihilistic commands grated on a nerve he didn’t think he had.
“I said I made peace. They didn’t have a choice—“ Grace gradually turns his head to Simon, steady and firmly raising the volume of his voice.
”Don’t gimme that shit!” Simon's voice booms in the cramped Pilot’s cabin as he takes a heavy step forward, the sound of his boot scuffing against the floor panels. Cerulean eyes glare up at Simon as he twists the pilot seat to face the younger man.
“They didn’t have a choice? I don’t buy that,” He points at the biologist seated below him. “Because they didn’t give you a choice— out of all the people they could put on a suicide mission they—”
“Simon— Enough, ok?!” Grace shoves forward, his fists slamming down down and white knuckling the arm rests. The blond is more exasperated than angry. “I’m done—” He shouts, releasing his fists to iunctuate his point.
Simon shoves downward into Grace’s space, bracing his hands on the sides of the arm rests to cage the scientist into the seat.
“No!” He almost sounds petulant. “You need to hear this,” And gives the seat a jerk from the armrests in an attempt to command Grace’s attention.
”They all had a choice, Grace. Just like those fuckers who put me in the blood ocean.” Simon leans down to better meet the scientist’s gaze. Simon’s face is less angry than his voice would have Grace believe. It’s not patronizing. The older man pauses and his hardened look softens just a bit as his fingers graze Simon’s wrist.
“I know I said I deserved it but I never got the chance to even prove I was innocent,” Simon jerks a thumb into his own chest and hovers over Grace. “And then,” He hangs his head, hand returning to it’s place on the arm rest.
”Some fuckers just like the COI picked you up and threw you to your death for the sake of saving humanity,” Simon’s tone carries an unappreciative, sarcastic sing song as he says the phrase.
Grace sighs, letting his hands fall into his lap and gives a brief shake of his head.
“Simon, it wasn’t like that okay? Only a handful of people kn—“
”I wasn’t done,” Simon looks up from beneath his brow. He flares a nostril as his gaze flickers over Grace’s shoulder through the window into the inky abyss. He swallows a lump in his throat and points, his gaze returning to the bespectacled man.
“Look,” He gestures with a pointed finger. Grace’s face quirks to the side, questioning. “Go on, look.” Simon urges, his brows raised thoughtfully.
Grace furrows his brow, clearly not following. He twists slightly to look over his shoulder, back at Simon and then double takes.
“What, the window?”
Simon claps a hand over his eyes and rubs his face.
”For fuck’s sake, Grace— Look at the fucking stars,” He gestures with a flat hand.
For a moment, Grace just looks at him completely puzzled. With a sigh, his holds his hands up in surrender. Fine. He eased off the pilot’s seat to get a better view outside the dome shaped window, bracing his hands along the edges. Simon eases past the Pilot seat, clacking some commands onto the control dock to dim the lights in the cabin and kneels just behind and to the side so he can steal some of Grace’s view. For good measure, he braces his hands just above the scientist’s.
”This. This is what you saved,” Simon asserts, craning his neck to see the distant twinkles spotting the blackness outside their vessel. Grace inhales, feeling a stinging pressure behind his eyes and blinks away an oncoming wetness. He feels a calloused hand graze his own with a ghost of a touch.
“You know what I’ve told you, about the stars and where I came from,” Simon’s hand grasps the Blond’s fully. “And yet, you still fucking did it.” He gives a squeeze.
“Not only that but you freed me, freed me from that coffin..”
Simon had escaped the Quiet Rapture itself only for Grace’s explanation of Astrophage to lead him to connect the dots; that every belief and every doctrine he’d lived by for 36 years was a complete and utter lie.
Grace had literally shown him the light.
Simon hangs his head to rest against the back of Grace’s shoulder and his finger gently caresses the lanky hand underneath.
”And I know you said it’s not a miracle, it’s your science.” His voice has the slightest tremor to it. “But fuck, Grace. It is,” Grace feels the shorter man nuzzle into the hook at the base of his neck and his upper body gives a small involuntary jerk when Simon inhales deeply. He white knuckles the rim of the window as a warmth flushes from his ears through to his abdomen.
Internally, he curses his own touch starvation. Simon is, in the scientist’s own words, having a moment. He is offering a genuine, honest-to-whatever-god he’d used to pray to, connection to Grace by forcing him to acknowledge his own efforts and worth and—
“You’re an angel,” The brunette breaths against his neck and he feels Simon’s weight fall forward against him just slightly, enough to gently bump his cheek against the window capsule with an inelegant ‘Oof’. His glasses clatter to the floor as the man’s hands caress his wrists in a motion that feels so, unbearably intimate.
“Simon?” Grace cranes his neck, straining his eyes beyond his scope of view in an attempt to catch the man’s expression. Simon’s hands drop from Grace’s arms, hovering against the window’s rim, inadvertently caging the taller man there.
The blond swallows a lump in his throat, still trying to rationalize the intimacy of the moment away as his gaze falls to the hands holding him in place against the window. Simon had been steadily inching closer to his orbit within recent weeks and the pat of affirmation he gave Simon’s leg earlier had come to be a natural show of affection on more than one occasion.
Grace clears his throat, louder than he’d intended. His hands reach for Simons and he guides them to encircle his waist from behind. He hugs the man’s muscled embrace against his stomach. “Everything alright back there, buddy—”
He’s jerked backward and pulled into Simon’s chest.
”You’re an angel and you make miracles happen,” Simon continues lowly, inhaling deep against Grace’s skin. He wants so badly to mouth his tongue into Grace’s neck. He wants to sink his teeth down and whisper praises to the scientist until the only thing the man can see are the stars he’s saved, and himself. The constrained tent in his cargo pants is strong enough evidence of that. But he doesn’t move. He stills any movement beyond the trembling press of his barreled chest against Grace’s back.
Despite it all, his lips and moist breath send a throb down to Grace’s groin. There’s a heavy pause in the air and Simon holds his wrist in his hand atop Grace’s navel.
‘Fuck it’
Simon snakes one arm under Grace’s shirt while the other remains across the older man’s hips. He leans upward with a push from his knee.
”Those fuckers on earth don’t deserve your miracles, Ryland” He husks, allowing the wetness of his lips to haphardzly press against the thin sensitive skin. Simon hears the scientist’s breath hitch and palms hand against the older man’s chest. He gropes a pectoral muscle under the man’s graphic tee and sucks in another breath through his teeth.
Grace’s hands clutch his knees and he squeezes his eyes shut.
“C’mon,“ Simon whispers as the hand groping Grace’s chest gently soothed it’s way to Grace’s neck, calloused fingers tracing the older man’s Adam’s apple.
“Burn it down,” He repeats the words that lead to this encounter, but decides to expand on it to appeal to the scientist in his arms.
“Burn it down.. and give me the stars,” Simon presses a wet kiss behind Grace’s ear.
The blond scientist shudders. The combination of Simon’s words and the movement of his hands has his brain swimming. He braces a hand on the rim of the capsuled window and dips his chin down. Grace breathes heavily and eventually peers at Simon from the corner of his eye.
“Do you think you.. maybe convince me a little more?” He asks in a low voice and feels Simon’s lips smile against his skin.
In a motion he tightens his grip on Grace’s hip and flips the man around. He pulls his hips down, forcing Grace onto his back in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs. Simon put a pin in the flutter he felt in his chest from being able to manhandle the taller man and straddled his hips. He braces a hand to Grace’s chest and grinds his hips down, frotting against the firm lump that had formed in the scientist’s trousers as a result of his touchy embrace.
”Sure, Angel.” Simon says in a warm gravel. He smiles fondly despite the playful mischief in his cocked brow.
The blond’s trembling hands settle on the man’s waist above him. From where he was on the floor, the half sphere of the cockpit window hung above them, backlighting Simon against a sea of stars.
Oh.
Grace gulps. He only hesitates for a moment before his hands smooth the fabric on Simon’s muscled thighs, slowly rolling his hips upward. Uncalloused fingers knead their way to Simon’s hips, pressing circles with his thumbs into the V of his groin. He swears he can feel the brunette’s pulse through his clothes and bucks up with a hiss.
Simon tilted his head back with a smirk, his own mismatched fingers insisting on keeping Grace’s shirt ridden up.
“Fuck, baby” The brunette chuckles and Grace’s heart flutters at the way his deep raven tresses sway backward from the motion to reveal more of his face. Grace‘s lips curl into an undignified pout as he furrows a brow and bucks up against Simon once again with a whimper.
“Please, Simon..” Grace whispers, pressing his thumb to the man’s clothed bulge. “Talk to me,” He says in a breath.
Simon braces a hand beside Grace’s head and looms over him. The blond immediately mourns the loss of warmth and pressure until he feels Simon tug at the tied sleeves of his jumpsuit around his waist. With some maneuvering and a swift shove, Simon slides a calloused hand into the man’s underwear with ease. He groans as he feels the taller’s man’s length pulse in his hand. He did this, he thinks with pride as he gives Grace’s member a thoughtful squeeze and earns a deep, sharp gasp from the older man beneath him.
“They don’t fucking deserve you,” Simon pumps Grace’s cock and licks his lips. “They don’t deserve that amazing fuckin’ brain of yours,” Simon continues with a husk.
Grace’s chest heaves with a moan as he arches his back off the floor of the cockpit, his head lilting to the side. Some part deep inside of his psyche felt this was absolutely sick. The fact that he was rock hard in Simon’s hands getting jerked off to sweet nothings about letting Humanity burn to the ground because they’d betrayed him.. The train of thought was interrupted by Simon freeing his cock entirely from the confines of his clothes and quickening the pace of his hand with generous pressure.
“C’mon Grace,” Simon gives a wet kiss to the spot below the blond’s ear. “Sabotoge the probes with me,” He urges, using his thumb to rub down onto the slit of Grace’s cock.
“I—I..Haah,” The blond braces a hand on Simon’s bicep as he curls upward into the man above him. I want to, Grace wants to say but a wracked breath comes out instead. I want to if it’s with you, He can’t get the words out as his hand curls into a fist, gathering the fabric of Simon’s tank for purchase.
If it’s for you.. Grace begs internally.
“Fuck ‘em all, Grace” He urges, catching Grace‘s lobe between his teeth. The expletive makes Grace’s eyes roll back with a whine. “They wanna take someone so goddamn amazing..” Simon drags his tongue down the column of Grace’s neck, giving the man’s Adam’s apple an affectionate lick as he went.
“So perfect, so divine,” Simon adds, smearing the precum leaking from Grace’s cock down his length with another stroke. He punctuates each descriptor with an open mouthed kiss behind the man's ear.
“Oh my god,” Grace shivers and humps into Simon’s hand, hips stuttering with an uneven rhythm. His ears burned from flush as he lulls his head back. His face tilts to the side and he bites down on his finger with a mewl, chasing the exquisite pleasure that Simon is jerking into his cock. He feels Simon’s pace quicken.
Simon shifts so that he is laying on his side next to the shuddering mess of a man in his grasp. He cradles Grace’s head with a propped elbow and gives the blond a suckle beneath his jaw.
”And then.. they wan’ you to die out here? No,” The shorter man murmurs, his voice hot and wet. “No, not fucking on my watch,” Simon punctuates the distaste at the thought with a bite to Grace’s jaw.
“S—Simon c’mon,” The teacher whines, eagerly trying to match the pace of Simon’s hand. “Hh.. I’m gonna..”
“Don’t save the stars for them,” Simon pants, his own cock twitching as he feels Grace’s pulse throb through his sex under his fingers. He leans up to see the man’s face and gives him a few more hurried jerks, easily sliding his hand back and forth from the slick of precum. The scientist was an absolute wreck beneath him.
“Save the stars for me, Ryland,” Simon rests his head against the teacher’s forehead and Grace wraps an arm around his broad shoulders and nails biting into tanned skin for hold.
“C’mon and gimme the stars,” Simon hisses through his teeth.
One more sharp jerk of his hand and Grace is in pieces.
“F-Fuck yeah,” Grace legs jerk as he cums, throwing his head back while he spills into Simon’s hand and onto his stomach. He ruts upward to chase the waves of his orgasm. ”Yes, yes—” Grace releases the fist of Simon’s shirt and claps the hand onto the younger man’s shoulder. ”Hh.. Give you the stars,” He gasps.
”Give you everything,” The man begs with a final jut of his hips before he finally collapses back onto the floor. His chest heaves and he rubs a fist to the bridge of his nose.
Simon releases the man from his hold, giving his dirtied hand a thoughtful glance as he leans back to straddle the biologist once more. Grace is huffing to collect his breath beneath him. He hears a ringing in his ears as a quiet settles in the cramped cabin. His own heart pounds in his chest as Grace’s whimpered promises echo in his mind.
“So,” Simon’s breathing heaved from his nose before he gave his dirtied hand a long slow lick to taste Grace’s spend. It tasted sour, salty and heady and some baser instinct in his core begged him to never go more than a day’s length without it again.
”Still wanna be savior of humanity?” The younger man asks in a low tone.
Grace by this time seems to have come back to reality and his breathing had steadied to the point where he can actually turn his head to look at the man atop his lap.
His hands find their way to Simon waist, savoring how firm and solid he feels. Grace breaths through parted lips as he takes in his crew mate. After a moment, he tenses his hands to grip SImon’s hips to keep him flush against him.
‘You have no family, you don’t even have a dog’
What a time for Stratt of all people to flicker through the haze of his mind in response to Simon’s question. He breathed steadily as blurry and fractured memories of his last moments on earth flashed through his mind.
‘You know who you are’
Did he? The blond man’s fingers tighten from the echo of his college’s words. There was something ugly burning deep in the pit of his stomach. A flair in his veins that he couldn’t describe.
How many people could’ve stopped it? How many people could have gone in his place? How long did Stratt know he was next in line for the mission and chose not to disclose it anyway? He might not have had much in his life on Earth. But it was his life. Didn’t that matter to anyone?
Grace hadn’t realized his face had twisted into a scowl before he knew it. Simon gently placed his hands over top the teachers and quirked a brow.
“Angel?”
Grace blinked and with a small shake of his head, he had something of an epiphany.
Did his life matter to anyone? The question echoed again in his mind as he realized the answer was seated in his lap.
In a swift motion, Grace sat up and embraced the raven haired man, wrapping his arms tightly around his thick waist. Simon let out a startled huff as he paused to contemplate where to put his hands. He lets one hand fall to his side while the other gently combs through Grace’s blond tresses.
“You need more convincing?” Simon whispered, half-serious as he pet the man’s head.
“No,” The blond answered quick and firm. “You just..” He presses his cheek to Simon’s shoulder. He tries to stifle a sniffle through the nose but it doesn’t work.
“You gotta know what you’re signing up for if we do this,” Grace says, his hands palming the brunette’s back through his shirt. “I mean, I’m fine saving Erid but you know that means we probably can’t ever leave this ship again—”
“Ryland,”
The firm use of his first name gives Grace pause as Simon eases the man off his shoulder to look him in the eyes.
“If I’m gonna die, I’d rather it a few years from now, with you. And when the food’s gone,” He holds Grace’s shoulders, pressing his lips into a thin line. Simon was more used to food rationing than the teacher knew but that wouldn’t save them from eventual starvation.
Simon takes Grace’s face into his weathered mismatched hands.
“I’d still rather take this place as my grave than be anywhere fuckin’ else” The brunette gently brushes his thumbs underneath Grace’s eyes.
“You’ll be my grave, Ryland. And I’m fine with that,”
Grace looks up at Simon with a shuddered breath. No one he’d ever been with had ever looked at him like that. No one had ever once spoken to him with such reverence. Not passed relationships or flings, no one.
Simon looked at him like he literally hung the stars in the sky. Grace swallows and clears his throat, rubbing his eye with his palm.
”…That’s one heck of a line, Simon” Grace returns with a weepy grin. In another life, perhaps the younger man could’ve written for film. Simon shifts to lean up on his knees, looming over the scientist. He leans close, brushing their noses together. His hands never left Grace’s face as he memorized the feeling of the man’s stubble under his fingers.
”I’m serious,” Simon asserts quietly, his hands sliding from Grace’s face to lace his fingers behind the blond’s neck. He tilts his head just slightly, looking into his cerulean gaze with fond, lidded eyes. “Let me show you,” He says with a small nod.
End of part one.