Work Text:
Grace had grown so bored upon the trip to Erid that he decided it was time to fully pick apart his dead companions' things. He had briefly gone through their bags to find out about them but never went too far. It felt . . . wrong. Like he was digging up someone's grave.
He went through Ilyukhina’s first. He found photos of her, ones of her friends and family. One of the two of them, he was doubled over staring at some work while she hovered above him making a silly face. He wondered who had taken the picture.
He wished he could remember.
He found some more of her clothing, he had taken what she had brought of her shorts and pants and socks. But with his current situation he was going to have to forgo gender norms and start wearing her skirts and underwear even.
Besides clothes and pictures, she had little objects, soft fabric that seemed to be what was left of a childhood blanket. A few trinkets of jewelry and even makeup. The craziest supply of pads and tampons Grace would ever see (did Eridians get periods or something similar?).
At the bottom of all her trinkets though was a small metal whistle. It was textured, almost looking like someone had scratched at it. Grace stuck it in his mouth and blew.
Nothing.
He took it out, wiping off his spit, investigating it, and wondering why Ilyukhina would want to bring a broken whistle on the trip when it hit him. It was a dog whistle!
Gleefully Grace put it back in his mouth and tried it out a few more times. Nothing. Which was obvious, of course. The noise of these things wasn't on a frequency he could hear.
Only that on his third blow, less to try it out and more because he liked the feeling of playing with something in his mouth he could hear Rocky bounding towards him. His body smashing into various objects, and he was making the oddest noise. Like a steam engine combusting tied with an actual whistling noise.
“Rocky?” Grace quirked his head confused as his friends bounded into the room crazily.
“What that noise, question, question, question?!” Rocky's voice was frantic, an octave higher than normally. His carapace was moving quickly as if turning his head to see. Even if he didn’t need to do that it was a human act he had picked up.
“Noise?” Grace asked, confused and then it dawned on him. “Oh, you mean this?” He blew on the whistle again. He couldn’t hear anything, but Rocky sure seemed to. Rocky immediately made the noise again, the vents on his body opening and closing. His legs/arm things shook, and he seemed close to collapsing.
“Stop, command!” Rocky yelped through his other noises. He was definitely saying things, but nothing was coming through translatable to Grace’s ears.
“Shit, sorry Rocky,” Grace tucked the whistle away. Obviously, the noise it was making was bothering his friend, weird. He wondered if it was the same effect on dogs or something entirely different yet still unpleasant. “Does it hurt? The noise, question?”
Rocky shook his carapace and settled his body. He seemed . . . rung out from the noise. If that was even possible. “Not hurt . . . just . . .” Rocky seemed to struggle finding a word.
“Uncomfortable?” Grace provided. “Like it's not good, but it doesn’t hurt?”
Rocky rumbled something. “No, not that. Just no.”
It was a simple command, probably the simplest one Rocky had ever given him. It was unusual, but grace could imagine it would feel the same if Rocky kept flashing blinding lights in his eyes. It would be unpleasant even if Rocky wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Okay, Rocky, I won’t play it, sorry,” Grace put his hands off as a sign of a peace offering.
“How does it feel for Grace, question?” Rocky pointing one of his claws at Grace curiously.
“We call it a dog whistle,” Grace smiled, happily falling into teacher mode.
“Human hairy pet, leaks lots from tongue. Slober, question?”
Grace laughed. “Yea, those things. But the whistle has a frequency humans can't hear but dogs can - and I guess Eridians as well - and we use to just get their attention, sometimes training them to act on something if they hear it.”
Rocky listened intently. “You hear nothing, question?”
“Yup, nothing.” Grace nodded.
Rocky seemed to soak up the information; his crystal brain must be firing so many neurons in there. Rocky knew there were noises Grace couldn’t hear, but Grace supposed they had not come upon an object that proved it.
“You good bud?” Grace asked. “Did I break you?”
Rocky shook his arm. “Yes, yes Rocky is fine. Must go now. Bye.”
Grace watched Rocky roll his way out of the room. Obviously, the whistle had really thrown him for a loop. Oh well, he went back to looking through his old friends' bags.
Grace hadn’t really thought about the whistle since then. He had placed it back in Ilyukhina’s bag and never touched it after taking what he needed from her stuff. However, since then he and Rocky’s relationship on the ship had . . . expanded to say the least.
And really who could judge them!? They were alone together now for several years. Rocky alone for even longer. And Grace was touch starved. The important part though was their mix of affection and desperation had created a sexual and romantic relationship between the two aliens.
It was hard at times, the xenonite ball getting in the way more often than not, but they made it work. They were two scientists afterall, their whole job was to figure things out.
It was a few months into their ordeal when Rocky approached him sheepishly while he was reading on his computer.
Stratt, bless her soul and then damn it straight to hell, had managed to download almost every possible piece of media the human world had to offer. And while Grace enjoyed watching movies with Rocky, reading was something that was more of a solitary activity. He was going through the whole Hunger Games series, something he had promised his kids he would get into one day just so he could understand their references.
Rocky had rolled over to him, tapping his claws, usually it was two taps for questions, one for statements, but without words added to them it was more of a nervous fidget.
Grace put aside the computer and gave Rocky his full attention. “What's up, bud?”
“Rocky has a request. Sexual request.”
Now Rocky had his even fuller attention, and his body's, the way it came abuzz at the word ‘sexual’ - god, he was such a freak.
“Yes, anything! Or, anything within reason,” he was still getting used to alien sex, and he was still scared that one day Rocky would ask if he could fill him with eggs or something like that.
“What's within reason, question?” Rocky asked nervously.
“How about you tell me what you want and I’ll let you know if I’m down?”
“Smart,” Rocky sang. “Rocky wants to use a human furry pet noise maker during sexual intercourse, request.”
Grace tried to smile through his confusion; Rocky was weirdly good at reading body language, and he didn’t want to make a face that meant anything less than enthusiasm.
But what in the galaxy was he talking about!? Okay, he could figure this out. A human furry pet was probably a dog or it could be a cat or bunny or guinea pig - shit! Humans had tons of furry pets! And noise maker . . . again could mean anything like a rattle or a whistle- oh!
“You mean the dog whistle?” Grace scooched closer to Rocky.
“Yes, yes, yes, that!” Rocky trilled.
“I thought that it was uncomfortable for you, or that you didn’t like it?”
If it was possible for a rock to look embarrassed, then that would be Rocky right then. “I did like it. But that was before Rocky Grace became mates.”
Grace could understand; it would be like if Rocky had tried sticking a vibrator up him without understanding what it did to him. It would be extremely unpleasant and uncomfortable.
Despite himself, Grace laughed. “Shit sorry, Rocky I had no idea. So what? It makes you feel good? Brings you pleasure?”
Grace wrapped his arms around the ball, looking at his little friend.
“Yes, feels very good, noise rattles brain, makes Rocky stupid.”
Grace grinned. “Damn, I'd love to see that. And I'd love to make you feel good. Let me get it!”
He picked himself up and ran to Ilyukhina’s bag, not really discussing with himself the morality of using his dead friend's things to get off his alien lover. He retried the whistle and gave it a small toot while in the room, he could hear, although muffled, Rocky’s own whistling noises, and the sound of his legs gliding across the xenonite in desperation.
Grace slowly walked back to Rocky every few seconds taking a breath and blowing the whistle, only letting Rocky have a few seconds of break before going at it again. There was something undeniably hot about doing something that had no effect on him and yet seemed to reduce Rocky to a keening mess.
Grace sat beside the ball, watching Rocky's vents open and close, his body slumped against the xenonite. Grace remembered reading a smutty romance novel, how the woman was described to be in so much pleasure her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Was this how Rocky felt? He had never been a fan of losing complete control of his body, but making someone else lose that control, well it was kind of hot.
“Does this feel good?” Grace asked blowing the whistle, he tested how much he blew, or the way his mouth shaped against the whistle. He wondered if there was a difference, he wished he could hear it. Perhaps one day he could make Rocky listen and tell him how it sounded till the noise became too much and he couldn’t talk anymore.
Now wasn’t that a fantasy.
“Good! Good! Good! Grace makes Rocky feel good!” Rocky trilled.
“Hmmm,” Grace hummed. “Obviously not doing a good job if you can still form sentences. Let me try some more.”
Grace blew again and this time began tapping against the xenonite. Rocky had admitted that some patterns of knocking could be pretty erotic, he had preferred when Grace would hum against the ball but Grace’s mouth at this point was currently occupied so tapping would have to work.
Grace’s fingers drummed against the ball like how villains would tap their fingers against their desk in movies. He laughed at the image and Rocky’s body eased up.
No, he didn’t. Grace blew as hard as he could this time, sending Rocky back onto the floor, his limbs completely useless to him now.
“Grace!” Rocky cried and the rest of the sentence a weird sort of octaves, and noises that were probably too inappropriate to translate or impossible to understand by human standards.
The ball was getting steamed up from Rocky’s vents, and that's how Grace knew he was doing a good job, although it also meant it was harder to see his beautiful mate.
At this point Grace was hard, his cock pressing against his pants, and he pulled them down his hips letting it whack against his stomach. With his limited supply of clothes, he always had to get naked when having sex; it wasn’t worth losing an item to semen. He brought his legs around the ball, feeling the vibrations of Rocky's noises going straight to his dick. It was heavenly.
He gasped the air going straight into the whistle, and Rocky whistled in response, his own version of a moan.
He continued blowing on it, feeling the way Rocky twitched in the ball making sounds and songs beyond his human comprehension. He himself was practically fucking the ball, rocking his hips against the smooth texture, slightly warm from Rocky’s atmosphere. It was great, it was all great, what more could he want.
Freaky alien sex with his freaky alien.
He could feel the pressure in his lower abdomen build, fuck he was close.
He took the whistle out of his mouth, spit falling down his chin. “Rocky - fuck - I’m gonna cum, are you close?”
“Close,” Rocky trilled in a rough sounding voice.
“Good,” Grace shoved the whistle back into his mouth, rocking his hips at the same rhythm of his breath.
He heard Rocky shrill, sending intense vibration through his body. He cried out as his cum splattered against the ball and his stomach. Thank god he wasn’t wearing any clothing.
He let his back rest against the floor, his legs still locked around Rocky.
When he finally caught his breath, he peered at Rocky, the figure murky through the condensation. “You good bud? How was that?”
Rocky didn’t speak for a while, the only sign he was still alive was the vents working slowly, it was like the deep breaths Grace’s partners on earth would take when they were coming down from their orgasm. Eyes blown wide, mouth in an ‘O’, and their breasts or chest lifting as they caught their breath.
Good to know he still had it, even with aliens.
Finally Rocky lifted himself up, although his movements were rocky (haha!). “Grace did a good job! Rocky satisfied. Sexually!”
Grace laughed, and kissed the ball. “Me too Rocky, I loved doing that for you. Making you feel good. Seeing you lose control was so hot. Can we do that again?"
“Now, question!?” Rocky asked, equally embarrassed, horrified, and interested.
“No, soon though, I have a few experiments I wanna run, if you're down?”
Rocky grumbled something along the lines of ‘Grace big pervert’.
“What was that?” Grace feigned ignorance.
“Nothing,” Rocky trilled. “Rocky like idea. I will try later. Now sleep.”
“I’ll watch,” Grace responded on instinct now.