Chapter Text
The crowd that had assembled to meet the lander as it touched down on Earth was larger than Grace had thought it would be.
He could see a variety of uniforms in the group from multiple countries, all studded with medals and bearing ranks of highest command. A few suits in the back, a single video camera, and a smattering of regular cameras both digital and film. Just in case the alien ship fried electronics, he supposed. It was the kind of thing that Stratt would have thought of.
Like he had summoned her, there she was, standing in the front of the crowd, red hair blowing back in the breeze as the lander settled but not moving an inch. A group of scientists stood behind her, peering over her shoulder, eager to get the first look at their returning comrade. The microbiologist who had come home against all odds.
“Rocky see Earth friends!” Rocky announced, tap-tap-tapping on the window. “See Grace home!”
“Yeah, buddy,” Grace said with a smile, touching the top of Rocky’s carapace. It was nice they didn’t need that suit any more.
Slowly, the door slid open with a hiss and a puff of air. “Rocky go first, say hello!” He scuttled out, waving with two hands at once. “Hello Earth friends! I am Rocky from Erid! You have seen me on video, like other famous Rocky!”
Grace watched Rocky bounce down to where the crowd waited through the large window at the front of the vessel. An overwhelming sense of affection bloomed within him. It had been a long journey, but he could finally share the world with his best friend. Rocky turned and motioned for Grace to come and join him. He smoothed his hands down over his flight suit, trying to make himself look presentable, and then stepped back through the door and back on Earth for the fi-
The door slammed shut in his face, so abruptly that Grace could feel the gust of air from the motion across his skin. “Huh?”
Rocky was still waving him out. “Grace not coming, question?”
“Rock, I- something’s wrong with the door.” He tugged at the handle, which only rattled in his grip. “It’s stuck.”
“Grace?” He squinted out the window. Was it his imagination, or was the crowd closer? “Where Grace?” Suddenly one of the scientists grabbed him, pushing his legs out from under him and sending the Eridian to the ground “Grace!”
“Rocky!” Grace slammed both hands against the window as more of the scientists came forward, grabbing Rocky’s squirming limbs and keeping him still. “Hey! Stop! Stop that, he’s friendly! Stop!” He pulled at the handle with all his strength, bracing his feet against the door frame. “Let me out of here!”
Rocky was warbling in panic outside, crying out for him. “Grace help! Grace! Humans hurting!”
He let go of the door and started pounding his fist against the glass. “Stop it, let him go!” Abruptly there were hands on him – so many hands – pinning him against the surface of the window. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t look away. His eyes tracked an approaching scientist, holding labeled specimen bags and something long and silver-
A dissection blade.
“Rocky!” Grace screamed, thrashing back against the hands. It was no use. He couldn’t move an inch. Helpless.
The scientist with the knife grew closer and closer to where Rocky lay, crying out to him. Above, Stratt and Carl and Dmitri and Lokken all watched dispassionately. Grace screamed and it didn’t matter, it never mattered, no matter how hard he screamed and begged nobody ever helped him.
Stratt looked up and met his eyes-
Grace sat up with a gasp.
His heart was pounding in his chest. Sunlight was streaming through his xenonite window, sending little rainbows scattering over his bed when the light hit them just right. It was bright today. The Eridians were proud of their rotating weather system they’d added a year in once Grace started to go a little stir-crazy from the same day repeated over and over.
He drew his legs up and wrapped his arms over his chest, a comfort habit he still had from the trip back to Erid when his touch starvation had been at its worst. Rocky had really begun working on the more mobile suit at that point. It wasn’t human touch, but it was still a hug.
Right. He was on Erid. He was in his very own biodome, with the beach and the cliffs outside, and his – situationship? Friend with benefits? Traumatized space stranger who he did kinky collar-based things with sometimes? – was in the room next door. Well, actually, Simon was an early riser. He’d probably be doing… something outside by now. Checking the greenhouse or doing a lap of the biodome.
He was lucky Rocky hadn’t been here to watch him sleep today. The little guy would have sensed his increased heart rate in an instant. Deep breaths. In, out.
Game face, Grace.
By the time he emerged into the hallway, dressed and ready for the day, he’d stuffed that dream into a box and kicked it somewhere into the storage rooms of his brain. Out of sight, out of mind. He had better things to think about anyway. Like breakfast. The nutrition team had really made progress since the weird gray-beige paste they’d developed when he was just trying to not die of scurvy. Now he had something close enough to an egg substitute, sausage derived from his own cloned cells, whatever bread he could bake himself (which was limited, but enough for toast) – a veritable buffet!
He didn’t expect to see Simon standing in the kitchen. Usually Simon spent his mornings outside, but he didn’t go far. He knew Grace liked eating breakfast together, and he always had an uncanny ability to come back just as Grace was plating it up. However, this morning, he was standing in front of the counter next to the stove, scowling at the items in front of him as if they had personally offended him.
“Simon?” The man’s head snapped up and he grunted in acknowledgment. Grace drew closer, enough to see what he had out on the counter – the not-egg, a carton of nut milk, the flour container, the dish of honey. “What you up to?”
Simon looked back at the items, mouth tightening at the corner. “Was gonna make pancakes. But I don’t know how much to put in of each thing.”
“Oh!” Simon had shown an interest in cooking, but every time Grace had suggested he try making something, he shied away. Grace had tried to reassure him that trial and error was part of learning to cook, and that if he made a mistake they could just start over, but wherever Simon had come from had given him some deep-seated nervousness about wasting resources. The idea of throwing out a meal just because it turned out bad was harder for him to accept than the rock aliens had been.
From the amount of condensation on the nut milk container, Grace guessed that was exactly what had happened here: Simon had pulled out the ingredients, wanting to make breakfast for them, but became too nervous about making a mistake to start and had been here, quietly spiraling until Grace appeared. “Why don’t I make them today? You just watch and you can make them another day.”
Simon gave one last look at the flour like it had done something rude and then stepped back, sitting at the table. Grace could feel his eyes on his back as he began pouring milk into a mixing bowl – he was pretty used to it by now, though. Simon fell back on staring like Grace fell back on chattering to fill a silence. Speaking of: “Adrian said that once the maple tree is mature and they can get a sample of the sap, they can engineer us some actual maple syrup. Not that the honey is bad or anything, but pancakes are just better with syrup. You’ll love it. We used to go to this nature center with my classes back on Earth, and they’d give samples of syrup from the trees right at the center.”
Not for the first time he felt a pang of guilt rise up through his chest and into his throat. There was so much from Earth that Simon had never experienced, and likely never would. Grace had half-heatedly mentioned that technically the Hail Mary could take Simon back to Earth once or twice, but Simon hadn’t seemed interested. Selfishly, that made Grace happy. He loved his Eridian friends, and he’d more than made peace with spending the rest of his life with no further human contact before Simon dropped in on them. But he couldn’t deny that it was nice to have another squishy human here, if only to be able to have things in common like seeing color and sneezing (oh man, the first time Grace had sneezed, Rocky had almost jumped out of his ball.) And now he had to admit he was getting attached to Simon for other reasons than their mutual endocrine system.
“It’s gonna be awhile,” Simon said from behind him. “It’s still young. Maybe… maybe Adrian would have some ideas.”
Simon liked Rocky plenty, but he’d really taken to Adrian once they settled in on Erid. Maybe it was their quiet, deliberate energy compared to Rocky, who never stopped for long. Or maybe it was because Grace and Rocky shared a similar flaw – it was hard for them to hear of a problem and not try to fix it. More than once Grace had pissed off a friend by trying to suggest how to deal with an annoying coworker or someone’s sister’s wedding drama, and it wasn’t until his messages started being left on read that he realized they had wanted sympathy, not solutions.
Adrian was better at all of that. Not long after they finished the second bedroom for Simon, Rocky had unfurled some rudimentary blueprints he’d been sketching for a prosthetic arm. Grace had been so excited that he’d immediately started looking over the design with Rocky, but it was Adrian who finally cut through their noise to ask “Simon want new arm, question?”
Simon had been sitting there quietly – and in Grace’s defense, quiet was his default, especially then – and Grace realized with a horrible lurch that neither he nor Rocky had asked Simon if he wanted this. They’d just… seen a problem and tried to solve everything themselves.
Simon rolled his shoulder and thought. Eventually he said “No. Not right now. Can I… change my mind later?”
Of course he could, and Rocky had assured him so. He’d still worked on some of the blueprints, just in case Simon ever decided he wanted it after all, but now they were tucked away in his workshop. And ever since then, Simon had seemed at ease around Adrian.
“Yeah, maybe Adrian would know! You should invite them up to the greenhouse soon to look at the progress. I know they’d like that.” Grace added some of the not-egg and began whisking the batter. He wondered if it would be too much to ask the Eridians to find a way to fake cinnamon. He could make Simon cinnamon pancakes when fall came – well, as much as fall came on a biodome without seasons.
“You should come to the greenhouse,” Simon said, softly.
Grace turned around, still whisking. “Huh?”
“The greenhouse.” Simon was watching his hand move. “You should come up today. You don’t have class.”
“Ah, shoot,” Grace grimaced. “Oh man, I’d really like to, but I promised the bio-atmospheric team that I’d go to the lab this morning to work with them on the osmosis filtration system they’re working on. And then this afternoon Lorraine is visiting for awhile.”
Simon’s eyes darted up from Grace’s hands to his face. “Lorraine is coming over?”
“Yeah, she’s gonna take another crack at the respiratory system.”
“She likes you,” Simon said, staring at the mixing bowl once again. “You know that, right?”
“Lorraine? Of course she’s my friend.”
“No, I mean she wants to fuck you.”
“Oh gosh.” Grace felt his face flush with color, as it always did when Simon abruptly spoke like that. The whisk bumped the side of the bowl, sending batter up on Grace’s shirt. “Ah, heck. Uh – No, Simon, I don’t think Lorraine is into me. She’s just coming over to work. But, um, back to – maybe I can come by the greenhouse later, if it’s still light by the time-”
Simon pushed away from the table and stood. “Don’t bother. I have to go.”
“Wait, don’t you-”
But before Grace could finish his sentence, Simon was already out the door, and he was left holding a mixing bowl with batter dripping down his shirt. What the heck just happened?
Leaving the lab was always a bit of an ordeal. They had one side of the lab accessible for Grace, with a clear xenonite glass through the center and a box in the middle for transfer. There was nothing to transfer today, but the bio-atmospheric team had shown him their research on the osmosis oxygen-ammonia filter they’d been working on and charts had been very promising. If this worked, then they could spend much longer in their own suits in each other’s atmosphere, without the need for clunky built-in filters. It wasn’t there yet, but the early tests were looking good.
Grace had been so distracted by going over the results that he was almost late going to meet Lorraine. Leaving the lab was a whole process, and he bounced on his feet impatiently as the airlock cycled around him. Even though his side of the lab was kept ready for him, they still had a precautionary airlock between his dome tunnel and the lab door. Nobody wanted to be the team that accidentally killed one of the Saviors of the Stars with an oopsie, so a lot of his transfer between places involved extra precautions.
He arrived to their meeting spot by the south outcropping on time, if a little out of breath, and reveled in it for a whole ten seconds before he heard a familiar chime.
“Hello, Savior Grace!” Lorraine scuttled to their meeting spot, slowed down by the thick slab she carried.
“Hey, Lorraine!” Lorraine was a cloudy-pink color, with a carapace body that Grace could best describe as an upside-down flower, like a tulip but with more petals. He almost thought it looked like the fluff of a teenager’s prom dress. Her legs stuck out at awkward angles from the different petals, but she could get around as fast as any other Eridians – provided, she wasn’t carrying something like the slab she heaved down in front of Grace.
“Grace heart beating fast. Concern?”
“No, Lorraine. Just had to hurry here. Came from the lab and they had some exciting stuff going on.” Grace patted the top of her suit. “Stuff that might let you wear a suit like this for much longer!”
Lorraine did a happy trill, front legs tapping. “Good! Excited!”
Grace hadn’t met Lorraine until his health had been stabilized for months. She’d tried to explain her job for an awkwardly long time until he realized that she was what he’d call a medical illustrator. Some Eridians had scoffed at her, since they could take automatic images of Savior Grace’s insides on a machine, but she still wanted to come draw if he’d allow her. He allowed her – not only because he had fond memories of beautiful drawings of bones and muscles and cells from his college days, but also because he felt kind of offended on her behalf. What were they doing acting like one format of capture was enough when they had just encountered a species who could perceive things completely differently? Lorraine would get her subject.
And today, her subject: “We’re trying the respiratory system, right?”
“Yes, yes.” She hauled up the slab once again. “Last drawing looked strange. Need additional context. Would like side view today, if Savior Grace allows.”
“I’ll allow it, but only with one condition.” Grace ambled down, where the beach stretched along the shore. “We talked about this, Lorraine.”
Lorraine tapped her feet again. “Okay. Would like side view of friend Grace.”
“Good.” Grace sat down. “Where do you want me? Sitting up, or lying down?”
“Whatever makes Sa- friend Grace more comfortable.”
“I’m going to lie down, then, if that’s okay.” Grace slowly reclined on the beach. Lorraine lowered the slab in front of her. Eridians “drew” with pressure on a softer material. More pressure created deeper divots. Lorraine had shown Grace one of her drawings after she’d done a quick study of his form, and it had given Grace the sensation of looking at a 3D movie with no glasses on. The picture was recognizable, but everything was layered over top of itself and made him feel dizzy. “The sun is nice today.”
“Grace get good good sun. Lorraine draw.” Grace had learned that in addition to artistic skill, Eridian medical illustrators often had an unusual talent for targeted echolocation. So while many Eridians could perceive his breathing and even his lungs, Lorraine was able to get a good look at the shape.
Sometimes Grace chatted with Lorraine during these drawings, but today he knew he couldn’t since the lungs were the entire point. So he mostly basked in the heat of the sun. Eyes closed, but not sleeping – no dreams, those were in boxes in the storage room – just enjoying the sun. The sound of Lorraine scratching into the tablet helped. Not that he had anything to help. He was fine. It was all fine.
“Lorraine finish,” she said abruptly, but when Grace sat up he realized the sky had gone all sunset. Oh, heck. “Grace nice and relax in sun?”
“Yeah, Lorraine.” Grace sat up, wincing a little at his complaining back. “You get it?”
“Yes!” She chirped, showing him the slab – not that it did much for him. “Very helpful for drawing of human breathing system. Thank Savior Grace. Thank thank thank.”
“Lorraine…”
She gave a sad tweet. “Apology. Friend Grace.”
“It’s okay.” Grace smiled, tapping his hand on her suit. “I should be getting back anyway.”
“Actually… have gift for friend Grace.” Lorraine fidgeted with her front three hands. “Here. Hope Grace like.”
What Lorraine handed Grace was a thin gold chain, with the links growing larger and larger until the crux, where a single gold loop held a stone of what looked like rose quartz. Too small to go around his neck, maybe meant to loop around his bicep? “Thank you, Lorraine, it’s beautiful.”
She clutched the slab closer to her. “Happy that friend Grace likes. Lorraine will go now.”
Grace set the jewelry down on the table as he came inside. Huh. He’d thought Simon might be back by now. He still wasn’t sure what that had been about this morning. But sometimes Simon was like that, closed off and flighty. Grace didn’t always get an explanation; he suspected that sometimes there just wasn’t one. But if Simon ever drifted too far away, he would come to Grace to pull him back down with a gentle hand.
He’d been getting better about that. Asking for things he needed. Not with words, but he’d come up with that same box from the Hail Mary and that look in his eyes. Asking for Grace to put him on his knees, to provide soft touch and kind words, to give Simon something to hold on to.
Grace wasn’t naive. He’d lived in San Francisco, for heck’s sake. He knew that this wasn’t exactly what most people would consider normal. But Grace had known people back on Earth who did much more out-there things in the bedroom to deal with stuff like daddy issues. Considering that he was pretty sure Simon had been raised in a cult and groomed to be a child soldier, not even going into whatever happened to leave him without an arm and covered in blood – Simon still didn’t like to talk about it, and considering the stuff he was willing to talk about, it must be pretty horrible – well, wanting to put on a collar and get called a good boy was probably a pretty reasonable way of dealing with all that.
Besides, he wouldn’t have been able to turn it down anyway. Simon was so… scared. It may have looked like anger, but Grace had been around enough angry teenagers back on Earth to know that usually anger like that was a shell built around fear. Simon wanted touch like a dying man in the desert wanted water, but he was clearly terrified. There was no way that Grace could ever say no when Simon asked for it so openly, pressing into Grace’s hand like he was offering salvation. Not when his eyes went all hazy and he made those soft little noises when Grace told him he was being good for him.
Whatever. They were the only humans on the planet. If being told to sit and stay while rubbing off on Grace’s leg made Simon feel safe, then who was here to judge him? And if Grace felt a surge of heat when Simon shivered and whined after being called good, then who was here to judge him?
Well, Rocky was, actually, but he didn’t have any room to talk. Not after what Grace had watched Adrian to do him a week or so ago. He wasn’t an expert on Eridian sexuality, but he was still pretty sure that had been some freaky stuff.
He’d go out looking for Simon if he still wasn’t back before it got fully dark. In the meantime, he could start a batch of bread dough and let it rise overnight – or ugh, there was some work he had to do about his classes for next year he’d been avoiding. Apparently teacher admin paperwork was something that spanned the cosmos. Hooray.
“What’s that?” Grace jumped. Geez, Simon could be silent when he wanted to. He hadn’t even heard him come inside. But there he was, looking down at the gold chain on the table.
“A gift,” Grace said, waiting for his pulse to calm down. “Lorraine gave it to me. I think it’s like, an upper arm thing?”
Simon looked at the chain with the expression one usually reserved for something smelly. “Lorraine gave you that? I knew she was into you.”
Grace sighed. “It isn’t like that. Look, I’ve got a lot of jewelry since I arrived here. Humans can’t really eat Eridian food or participate in a lot of their media or use most of their household items, so when it comes to giving gifts, they kind of default to the wearable stuff.”
Simon grunted, nudging the chain to the side of the table. “Whatever. I have- something.”
“Um.” Grace blinked. “A good something?”
Simon stepped forward, shoving something at Grace, who automatically grabbed it. Looking down, he found himself holding something small and hard and red and-
“Simon,” he gasped. “Is this an apple?”
He knew Simon had been tending to the trees with laser focus, but he hadn’t been aware that the apple tree had finally fruited. He raised the apple to his nose and inhaled and oh dear god it was small but it was an actual apple. “Holy shit,” he murmured.
“’S the first one,” Simon said. “Do you… like it?”
“Like it? Holy shit, Simon.” He couldn’t even be bothered to be concerned with his language right now. “An actual apple. I can’t believe it.” He held it back out to him.
Simon didn’t take it. “It’s for you.”
“Huh? You’ve been babying those trees ever since you got here. Don’t you want it?”
A muscle flexed in Simon’s jaw. “It’s for you.”
Oh. Oh. Things clicked into place. That’s why Simon had wanted him to go to the greenhouse. That’s why he’d been so upset about breakfast this morning. He was trying to keep his place here.
It had popped up a few times since they’d arrived. Simon had trouble accepting food, medicine, safety, without giving something back in return. It had been… challenging to convince him that he didn’t need to pay his way. Sometimes it slipped back. Grace was pretty sure it went back to that cult.
“How about we share it?” Grace offered instead, and after a moment, Simon nodded. “Awesome, just sit down and I’ll be over in a second.” It felt a little surreal to be cutting up an actual apple after all this time and accepting that he would never be able to have one again. Muscle memory made clean cuts, and before long he was sitting down across from Simon with a plate of neat apple slices.
Simon didn’t make any action to take one, so Grace made the first move. As soon as he bit down, the familiar texture and flavor burst over his tongue. It was a little bitter, and mealier than it should be, but for the first crop of an apple seed that had survived deep space and been grown on an alien planet, it was incredible. Man. Could they have apple juice? Apple cider? Maybe if they were able to synthesize recreational alcohol then Grace could actually make spiked apple cider.
Simon still hadn’t moved by the time Grace finished his slice. “Come on, Simon, it’s not sharing if only I eat.” Grace picked up a slice and held it out. “You have one.”
He expected Simon to push back, maybe. Insist this was for Grace. What he didn’t expect was for Simon to lean forward, eating the apple from his outstretched hand. His tongue darted forward to catch the juice from Grace’s fingertips as his eyes flicked up to Grace’s face, tense in the way he was when he wasn’t sure if he’d just done something wrong.
Grace caught the breath that tried to rush out in his surprise. Well. He picked up another one, holding it up to Simon once more. Simon took it from him again, slowly this time, allowing Grace’s thumb to drag along his bottom lip as he finished.
They finished the whole apple like that, Grace hand-feeding Simon pieces, sometimes eating one himself with the same hand he fed Simon with. It felt like the closest they’d come to an actual kiss.
“Simon,” Grace said, pushing the empty plate aside. “Is there something you want?”
Simon’s hand curled and uncurled from where it sat at the table. He looked down at his lap, but Grace got the sense he wasn’t looking at something at much as he was looking away from Grace. Finally, he nodded.
He was going to push Simon a little today, he decided. “Use your words. If you want something, you need to ask for it.”
Simon didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then, so low that Grace almost didn’t catch it: “I want… I want to be your good boy.”
Woah. Grace was suddenly glad for a lifetime of practice schooling his face in the classroom, since he could hide the bolt of heat that snapped up his spine at Simon’s words. He’d expected Simon to ask for the box, or “the stuff”, but nothing so… explicit. This was new. “Okay then,” he finally said, voice measured. “Go get your things and come back.”
Simon pushed away from the table and vanished into his bedroom. Grace took the opportunity to relocate to the couch, where the carpet would be softer against Simon’s knees and they’d have more… room. If anything came up.
It wasn’t always sexual, when they did this. Sometimes it was just Grace running his hands over Simon and cooing praise while Simon drank it up. One memorable rainy day Simon had ended up lying on top of Grace on the couch and had dozed with his head on Grace’s chest while Grace ran his fingers through his hair and hummed whatever Earth songs popped into his head. It was possible that today was like that. But it never hurt to be prepared.
Simon reappeared, the box clasped against his body. “You got it?” Grace said, even though he knew the answer. He liked asking questions that he already knew the answer to, because when he praised Simon for the right response it made his eyes go all soft. At Simon’s nod, Grace smiled. “Good. Bring it here.”
There was the little hitch in Simon’s breath that Grace had learned to look for. He handed Grace the box, but then, without being asked to, he sank to his knees between Grace’s legs. That was also new. Usually he waited to be told where to go.
Grace added that into the tally going in his mind. The apple. The direct ask. The kneeling without being told, as if he’d been waiting for it all day.
He shelved that for a moment, reaching into the box and pulling out the collar. Simon arched his neck automatically, a silent plead. Grace affixed it around his neck, slipping a finger in between the xenonite and his skin as he always did. God knows Grace’s body had fluctuated enough during his time in space that he wasn’t ever going to assume something fit the same every time. He’d rather not do this at all than hurt Simon.
Then the leash, giving Simon plenty of time to shy away or tense or show he didn’t want it today – but as usual, he just gave a shuddering sigh when it clicked into place.
Finally, the muzzle.
The muzzle. Grace understood why Simon wanted it, when they first did this. That moment when Grace had been pulling the quilt over Simon’s sleeping form, only for his eyes to snap open and teeth to sink into his hand – it had hurt, of course, but more than that the look in his eyes had been terrifying. It was the look of a creature chewing its own leg off to get out of a trap. Simon was so, so scared. If the muzzle allowed him to accept Grace’s affection – any affection – without being terrified, he’d do it.
But Grace didn’t buy that Simon was some feral beast who needed to be locked up and muzzled forever. When he’d promised to domesticate Simon like the wolf he called himself, Simon had looked at him like he was the whole cosmos. He wanted Grace to tame him, and Grace had all the time in the world to do it. He already trusted him. He just wanted Simon to trust himself.
So he held up the muzzle. “You want this?”
Simon nodded readily, as he did every time. At this point it was a practiced motion, click the strap at the base of Simon’s neck, click the strap around his head.
Grace petted a hand over Simon’s head. His hair was so soft, and the best part was how he responded to every touch. Even with just these small little pets, Simon shifted and inhaled like he didn’t know how to take it. Then when Grace murmured “there’s my good boy,” his whole body seemed to relax.
Except today he didn’t.
“Simon, so sweet for me,” Grace said, soothingly. Usually that settled him. But today Simon was still agitated, still butting up against Grace’s hand and making little distressed noises. “Simon. Simon, hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” That made his shoulders release a little, but he still held tension in the rest of him.
Huh. Another tally in Grace’s brain.
Grace stroked Simon’s hair, down his neck and shoulders. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re so good for me, you…”
...Simon was saying something.
It was mumbled against Grace’s thigh, so soft he couldn’t understand it. “What was that?” No answer. Oh. Grace would need a firmer hand.
He gripped the leash, slowly pulling until Simon was forced to look up. It felt heady, to be able to direct this man who could easily pin him with something as simple as a nudge and a tone. The power that Grace had with his voice. “Speak.”
Simon looked up at Grace with that desperate, aimless look. Like he trusted Grace to guide him back home. And oh god, did Grace want to. “Simon.” Grace said, sternly. “You had something to say. Speak.”
Simon made a strangled noise. “I… Grace…”
Grace sighed, face falling. “I thought you wanted to be my good boy.”
And if that didn’t work. Simon sat up as straight as he could, hand twisting on his own knees. “I- I want...”
“Speak.”
Simon made a desperate keen from the back of his throat. “Yours. Please, I’m yours, that’s what I – I want to be – you said you’d keep me, that I’d be yours, please. I want to be yours again.”
“Again?” Grace rubbed his thumb in small circles against Simon’s jaw absentmindedly. “Are you under the impression that you stopped being mine?”
Anxiety flashed across Simon’s face. His eyes darted to the kitchen table, which was empty except for the plate they’d just used and-
And Lorraine’s gift.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Grace exhaled, cupping Simon’s face with both hands. “Have I been neglecting you? What a good boy you are to tell me when you feel like this. I’m so happy you did.” The effect was immediate. Simon gasped, trembling where Grace held him, looking up at him like he hung the sun in the sky. “I’m keeping you. That’s not a question.”
“Please,” Simon whispered, pressing harder against Grace’s hands.
Grace carded a hand through Simon’s hair and let it rest there. He could feel Simon shaking with the barely-restrained tension and want that bubbled to the surface whenever they did this. Simon had been feeling like Grace didn’t want him any longer, hm?
An idea began to form in his mind and he unhurriedly fisted the hand in Simon’s hair. Pulling back so, so slowly, so Simon’s head tipped back gradually from the pressure without the pain of a tug. “I might spend time with others, but you’re still mine. Maybe you need a reminder, huh?”
Simon inhaled sharply, hand twitching on his lap like he wanted to grab Grace back. Even though Grace had a tight hold on his hair, he still managed to nod desperately, like Grace would take back the offer if he didn’t accept fast enough.
A small smile played over Grace’s face. “Good boy.”
He eased off the couch and slid a knee on either side of Simon’s hips, straddling him with Simon’s pelvis underneath his own. With the new leverage the position gave him, he tugged further on Simon’s hair until Simon’s neck was bared in a beautiful arc. There was something buzzing under his skin at the coiled strength underneath him, all subdued and docile under his hand. Grace tried to stay active, but his body had never fully bounced back after the starvation he’d endured when he first got to Erid. Simon was all muscle, strength just waiting to be used like a stick of unlit dynamite. He could have easily thrown Grace off if it came to that, but instead Grace held this power in his palm, heeled at his side. It scratched an itch Grace hadn’t known he’d had until they’d started all this.
He kissed Simon’s temple, already expecting the whimper that followed. It was cute, how much Simon adored it when Grace kissed him. It made Grace a little sad to think about how little Simon must have been kissed before arriving here. It made him want to spend a whole day kissing every part of Simon – his wrist, the scarring on his bad shoulder, the divot on his lower back. But considering how strongly Simon reacted to each one, they’d have to work up to that. He was pretty sure if he tried it now Simon would go catatonic before the end.
The kiss on his temple was quickly followed by one on his cheek, then one along his jawline, finally trailing down to where Simon bared his neck so beautifully for him. He brushed his mouth over the collar, warmed from where it hugged Simon’s skin. “I’ll give you what you need, I promise,” he murmured, feeling how Simon’s pulse beat quickly against his lips.
Finally he found the perfect spot, just under Simon’s ear. He kissed it first, then parted his lips and allowed his tongue to fleetingly touch against Simon just to feel him shudder underneath him. Then he descended with lips and teeth, sucking and nipping and worrying the area until he could feel Simon’s groans rumbling under his mouth. When he was satisfied, he pulled back to admire his handiwork; a reddened mark was beginning to bloom wonderfully on Simon’s neck.
Simon was panting against him. When Grace tugged his hair to expose the other side of his neck, he went easily, and when Grace latched onto another part below his jaw he gasped, hips twitching up slightly against him.
“No,” Grace admonished, lifting his head for a minute to look at Simon. His pupils were blown so wide that there was barely any color left. “Stay.” He patted Simon’s hip with his free hand. “Be good.”
That warning given, he ducked back down to suck a third mark closer to the center of Simon’s neck. Simon made a high-pitched noise from the back of his throat but his hips stayed still this time. Grace smiled through his work. Good boy.
“There,” he announced, rubbing a thumb over one of the marks he’d left. It would bruise purple shortly, he knew. “Now you won’t forget that you’re mine.”
He used his hold on Simon’s hair to tug him back up. He was panting, eyes glassy and mouth red. Grace could feel him pressed up against his ass, hard underneath him. He knew that if he told Simon not to touch himself, he wouldn’t. He could leave him hard and wanting and Simon wouldn’t do a damn thing about it unless Grace said so. The knowledge burned hot in Grace’s core. But Simon had been good for him, and Grace wanted to reward him for being honest.
And, if he was honest, Simon was so pretty when he came for him.
He shifted back off Simon’s lap, ignoring the bereft whimper that the man gave, and traded his grip on Simon’s hair for a firm hand on the back of his neck. With his other hand, he reached between them and pulled out Simon’s cock. It was red and leaking, and Grace cooed. “Oh, sweetheart, that really worked you up, huh?”
At the touch of Grace’s hand, Simon moaned and hunched forward. Grace encouraged the motion, pulling him towards him until his face was against Grace’s shoulder. “You were so good for me,” he said, stroking Simon’s cock firm and slow. “Of course you’re mine. Maybe I should take you for a walk, so everyone can see how you’re so good for me.”
Simon’s thighs were shaking with the effort of staying still. Trying so hard to obey. Grace exhaled slowly, trying to keep his own composure. “Maybe I should show Rocky and Adrian how good you can be for me. You’re so beautiful like this, they’d be so jealous that you’re mine.” And oh, that made Simon’s cock jump in Grace’s hand while a strangled noise was torn from his throat. Interesting. Grace folded that one away in his brain for later. “They’d want to touch but they couldn’t, could they? Because you belong to me.”
Simon butted his forehead against Grace’s shoulder. “Can I- Grace, please, can I-”
For a moment Grace thought about making him ask properly, but decided he’d been through enough tonight. “Yes, honey, go ahead.”
Almost as soon as the last word left Grace’s mouth, Simon was moaning and coming, spilling hot over Grace’s hand as he stroked Simon through it. “Shh, shh, I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he murmured, still touching Simon until he began to twitch away from oversensitivity.
Simon made a soft needy noise when Grace went to stand up. “It’s okay, I just need to get something. Stay.” The command seemed to steady Simon, allowing Grace to head to the kitchen and find a cloth. On his way back, he also picked up a blanket and carefully folded it, setting it down next to his desk chair. He returned to Simon and cleaned him off as best he could, then tugged his pants back up. He discarded the cloth – he would need to toss that in the laundry hamper after this – and settled down at his desk. “Simon, come.” He patted his knee.
Without hesitation, Simon crawled over, kneeling on the blanket under Grace’s desk. “You want to keep me company while I finish some paperwork?”
In response, Simon just rested his head against Grace’s thigh.
“Good boy,” Grace chuckled, stroking Simon’s hair. He’d stay here with Simon while the other man came back to himself. He was hard himself, but he could ignore it until he was alone later. Right now, he was finally forced to face that stupid admin paperwork, but it wasn’t so bad with Simon here, drifting peacefully against him.
It was a perfect day.
Enough sun to keep Grace’s face feeling warm, fog rolling peacefully in clouds around him. The beach crashed against the shore in a soothing rhythm. There was nothing wrong at all on Erid.
A glint of light in the distance distracted Grace from his peaceful reverie. What was that? The artificial sunlight was reflecting against something down by the cliff. He stood up, walking over to the strange light. It was blinding, the way it bounced off the strange shape. Grace lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he came closer. Maybe Rocky had put something new in his biodome? But surely Grace would have noticed him assembling something-
It was a rocket.
Grace just stared for a minute, bewildered. Why was there a rocket in his biodome? Who had put it here? It… didn’t look Eridian. It almost looked like… like…
The door opened with a hiss. The fog obscured the doorway for a moment, and then a humanoid figure stepped onto the beach.
No, not just a humanoid figure. A human. In a space suit. Just like the ones that had been packed with Grace on the Hail Mary. And it wasn’t just one, he registered, as another and another piled out of the ship.
“Ryland Grace,” one said, voice tinny through the suit. “We’ve come to take you back to Earth.”
Earth? He didn’t- “Wait, wait. Hang on. I… what? I don’t-”
“It isn’t a question. We’re taking you back to Earth,” the figure said, stepping closer.
Ice ran through Grace’s veins. “Wait, no, no, no. Stop. Wait.”
“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” it said, and Grace’s head swam. No, no. This couldn’t be happening. No.
He turned on his heel and ran, bolting down the beach. He could feel the figures bearing down on him – how the fuck were they so fast with those suits on? Maybe he could get to his house, and then he could get help, he could lock his doors, he could-
His heart beat in his ears. He was running as fast as he could, and oh fuck, why were they still right behind him? He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to die-
A weight hit him from the back and he crashed to the shore, wind getting knocked from his lungs. He twisted, kicked, and managed to free himself for a second, barely getting to his feet before getting tackled down again.
He managed to turn his head and oh, oh. Rocky was there, talking animatedly with Carl, who was chuckling at something the Eridian said. Adrian was holding court with Lokken and Dmitri. And Simon – Simon was deep in conversation with Eva Stratt.
“Help me!” Grace screamed, trying to wrench himself away from the hands. “Simon! Rocky! Adrian, please! I don’t want to go!”
None of them even bothered looking at him. Except Simon and Stratt. Stratt just watched him, like she always did, watched as he was pinned to the ground, helpless, powerless. But Simon -
Simon looked at him. Just once, with cold, uncaring eyes. And then he turned away to continue talking to her.
“No, no, please!” The figures dragged Grace away, back towards the ship. “Help me! Why won’t anyone help me? Please, for the love of God, someone help me!”
Nobody even turned. Nobody except Stratt, who kept watching him, unmoving. Grace wailed, frantically scrabbling at the rocks of his beach, fingers going bloody as the figures kept dragging him anyway. “Please,” he sobbed, “please, no.”
He was hauled onto the ship, the door closing with another hiss. He thrashed, trying to break away, but was forced onto a biobed and held down. Pinned once again.
Stratt was here now, standing over him with a needle. “You don’t even have a dog,” she said, and leaned down-
Grace jerked upright, awake all at once. His eyes frantically darted around the room, as if Stratt was hiding behind his curtains or his dresser or something.
He drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around himself in the familiar position, rocking back and forth where he sat on his bed. In, out. In, out. Deep breaths, Grace. Deep breaths. Stratt wasn’t here. Earth wasn’t here.
In, out. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this. Rocky would just worry, and Simon – Simon had enough of his own stuff to deal with. In, out. Especially something like this. Scared of your own dreams, Grace? Of something that was a galaxy away? How do you even function, Grace, you coward?
He dug his hands into his hair, pulling tight, moaning low in his chest. Calm down, Grace, calm down, in, out, why are you so worked up over this, game face, Grace, game face. Other people here have been through worse things than you. Simon counts on you to be strong. Rocky and Adrian already do so much for you. In, out. Game face.
Game face, Grace.
Another dream crammed into a box and tossed pointedly into that storage room in his mind. It was fine. He was fine. It was all fine.
Everything was fine.
He emerged from his bedroom bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever. Maybe he’d make a not-omelet for breakfast this morning. Simon had managed to harvest an actual bell pepper the other day! That would be fantastic with some not-eggs.
Grace opened the fridge, meaning to see what the me-sausage situation was, but his eyes drifted to the window.
Huh. From here he could see the cliff. That was where the rocket landed. Where the figures had emerged from don’t make this any harder than it needs to be
“What are you doing?”
Grace nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, heart beating against his rib cage. “Geez, Simon, don’t scare me like that!”
Simon tilted his head. “I’ve been… standing here for a minute. Were you doing something with the fridge?”
Now that Grace took stock of things, he registered that his front was cold. Like he’d been standing in front of the open fridge for some time. How long had he been here? “Oh, uh, yeah!” He said brightly. “I was thinking nutrient shakes today. Something simple, and then I’ll make something bigger for lunch. How about that?”
“That’s fine.” Simon’s eyes flicked over Grace. “You okay?”
Everything was fine. “I’m just great.” He pulled out a nutrient shake. “Actually, I’m not super hungry this morning. I think I had a big dinner. But we’re gonna have a great lunch, okay?”
Simon took the shake from him. “Sure.” He still had a ghost of the marks from their last session on his neck. Grace couldn’t deny the thrill that he’d gotten from seeing them on Simon’s neck for the past week or so. And that time he’d happened to see Simon in the mirror, pressing a finger down on one of the marks as if he wanted to feel it – he’d had to sneak off to his bedroom to take care of himself.
Just the thought made Grace feel buoyed. “Great. Oh, hey, Dr. McCoy is coming by today to give me a vitamin D shot. I don’t know how your levels aren’t as bad as mine, but I guess you get a pass for now. But unless I can convince Rocky that humans need a tiny bit of radiation for their health soon, you’ll be on the list next.”
“I got my arm amputated,” Simon said simply. “I’ll be okay with a vitamin shot.”
Right, Simon had his arm amputated! Traumatically even! He’d been through so much and here Grace was freaking out and crying over being put on a spaceship that ended up saving two worlds and making him happy in the long run and what right did he have to be so pathetic and panicky when everyone else here had actual baggage and Grace you’re a coward, a coward and
“Grace?”
Simon was looking at him oddly again. Game face, Grace. Grace beamed at him. “Sorry! Mind wandering. I was just wondering why my levels are worse than yours when you’ve been away from actual sunlight longer than I have.”
Simon shrugged. “If you want any of my blood to test, you can have it.”
“Thanks!” Grace looked out the window. The sight of the shore churned his stomach, but he couldn’t stay here talking with Simon any longer. He needed… he just needed time to shove all those little boxes back into the storage room where they belonged. “I think I need some air. I’m gonna take a walk. I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”
“Yeah, see you then. I’ll be in the garden.”
Okay. It was fine. Grace was going to sort it all out. He had it handled.
Everything was fine.