Chapter Text
Aside from sex and sometimes sharing a bed, not much changes in their day to day life. They eat together, do chores together, Grace works and Simon studies. Scattered throughout they just... also kiss, and cuddle on the couch while watching a movie. Sometimes Simon comes into Grace's bedroom in the evening and they share a bed, and sometimes that turns into sex. It's not as big a change as Grace had expected, but that's nice in a way. It's a much smoother transition than any other relationship Grace has been in.
It's been about seven weeks since they became... well, mates. 'Exclusive' was redundant, they were the only two humans around, and 'official' didn't make sense for two people who had in no way been casual before they had sex. Mates is the most accurate word for it. Rocky has, true to his word, interrogated Grace about it several times and made clear how disgust they are for their squishy affection, while being fully supportive of the relationship. Simon hasn't heard an unkind or intrusive word from him, that's been reserved for Grace, and he'd been pretty quick to accept that Simon would probably never reach the excessive level of comfort that Grace has with bodily functions around Rocky. The nights are guaranteed no visits except for emergencies, so Simon doesn't feel awkward when Grace whispers sweet things in his ear when they have sex before they go to sleep.
One of the first things Grace had done after that faithful hot day had been to contact the textile fabrication team to discuss more clothes being made for Simon. The head of the team and the designer, Daley, had been more than happy to take a look at his ideas for Simon, and had graciously accepted the stuttered explanation about it being a gift because they had recently become mates. Daley was thorough and dedicated, so Grace wasn't surprised it would take weeks for him to oversee the manufacturing of new fabric types and then the construction of the garments. They arrive, finally, right when Grace has come back from school, delivered by Adrian. He opens the door for them and they carry the delivery box inside to set it down in the living room.
“Is Simon home, question?” they ask and Grace shrugs.
“I just got home myself. He was very tired this morning so he might be back in bed,” he says.
“I not disturb him. Tell him hi from me,” Adrian says and Grace promises to do so before seeing them out.
He makes to walk to the bedrooms but stops when he passes the box of clothes, deciding he might as well peek so he knows what’s in there. He knows what he ordered, but sitting down with sketches and reference pictures and patterns is different to actually having the garments in his hands.
The first thing he pulls out is a flowy dress in a shiny black fabric that runs through Grace’s fingers like silk. It’s longer than Simon’s shirt dress, probably around knee length, with quarter length sleeves and a two-button closure in the back. It’s probably best classified as a little black dress, if Grace had to decide, and he feels embarrassingly excited at the thought of Simon wearing it while they have something like an actual date. He carefully folds up the dress and places it next to him on the couch. Next thing he pulls out is a pair of loose, gray, high-waisted shorts. They’re more androgynous than anything, but it’s a good complement to Simon’s wardrobe. Underneath is two T-shirts in white and black, tailored to show Simon’s waist, then a slim crop top in dark red, then an oversized blue sweater with baggy sleeves. The pièce de résistance is the last item in the box, a short halter top dress with a drawstring in the waist and a skirt that flares out from there and falls in pretty lines. The fabric is smooth and indigo. Eyeballing it, Grace thinks it will probably not go lower than a third down Simon’s thighs. The back is low, and Grace can just imagine how easy it will be to slip his hands in through the sides of the top and touch Simon’s chest. He blushes a tad at the thought and drapes it over the back of the couch so he can rub at his face. Now he’s just being a pervert again.
“Hey, Grace,” Simon calls through the house and Grace gets the instinct to grab all the clothes and shove them back into the box to hide them, but then realizes that’s stupid, so he doesn’t do it. Instead he stands up and goes to find Simon in the kitchen. He’s only in shorts, his usual pajamas, and Grace comes up next to him to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Did you take a nap?” he pulls back and asks, and Simon quells a yawn. His hair is still in the braids Grace had put it in the night before.
“Yeah. I feel better now,” he says. “I was really sore in the morning.”
“Hey, you should tell me when you‘re in pain,” Grace says and puts his hand on Simon’s shoulder. Simon shrugs, leaning into Grace’s chest.
“It wasn’t too bad. It’s better now.” He kisses Grace’s cheek, and Grace turns his head and catches his mouth in a proper kiss.
“So… the textile team finished an order,” he says.
“Don’t you have enough clothes?” Simon asks and cocks his head to the side.
“They’re not for me, they’re for you. Also, rude,” Grace says and takes Simon’s hand so he can lead him to the living room.
“You ordered— Okay,” Simon says, frowning in confusion. Grace gestures to the clothes and lets Simon sit down to look them over. He looks at the shorts and the shirts first, rubbing his fingers over the fabrics and unfolding them to look at the construction. It’s a thing he cares about, how they’re woven and knitted and cut and sewn, and Grace likes to watch him examine things in this manner. He seems satisfied with the garments and puts them aside, instead picking up the sweater.
“I think that’ll look great on you,” Grace says, and Simon nods without looking up at him.
“It’s pretty,” he mumbles, and rubs his fingers over it one last time before putting it with the shirts. He picks up the black dress and holds it against himself, face going through a complicated series of emotions.
“I didn’t realize how uh, ‘date night dress’ that would look before it got here,” Grace says awkwardly. He’s got a button down shirt somewhere in his wardrobe and could probably order something like dress pants, and a tie, and Grace has to cut himself off from fantasizing about him and Simon having a candle-lit dinner.
“‘Date night dress'?’” Simon asks and looks up at him.
“Oh!” Grace rubs his hand over the back of his head. “Date night is a thing couples do together to be romantic, like getting dressed up and having a special dinner.”
“Would you like to have a date night?” Simon asks and tosses his braids over his shoulders.
“Oh, that’s—” Grace clears his throat and takes of his glasses to clean the lenses. “It’s not what I was thinking about when we decided on the design but—” he glances up from his glasses, “—I’d love to have a dinner date with you.” Simon’s face softens so sweetly, and he rubs the fabric draped over his chest with a small hum that makes Grace’s chest feel warm and fond.
“I’d like that,” Simon says and carefully folds up the dress so he can put it aside. As he does that he sees the other dress, and Grace holds his breath while Simon picks it up. “That’s short,” he says, and Grace blushes.
“It’s like the length of your shirt dress,” he stammers, and Simon snorts.
“This isn’t even gonna cover my dick, Grace,” he says and stands up, lifting the dress over his head. He gets it over his head but it gets stuck around his chest, and Grace steps forward to help pull it down. It falls so pretty over his thick thighs, which Grace gets an eyeful of when Simon pulls his shorts down and lets them drop to the floor.
“It’s not that bad!” Grace says and takes a step back to get a better angle. “I mean you probably shouldn’t jump around too much, but you’re good, you’re not showing your underwear.” Simon snorts again and brushes his hand over the skirt.
“I’m not gonna be able to bend forward at all in this, Grace, how am I supposed to wear this?” he says and steps out onto the floor so he can spin around, the movement lifting his skirt and exposing his tight underwear. Grace’s mouth goes dry and he reflexively averts his eyes.
“We could ask Daley for a complementary skirt?” he says and looks at Simon’s face. He looks up at Grace under his eyelashes, expression amused.
“You designed it,” he says and runs his hand over the indigo fabric on his chest, taking a step towards him. For a brief moment Grace feels like a sheep being herded by a border collie as he moves backwards until his back hits the wall.
“Actually, Daley decided on the measurements,” he stammers and adjusts his glasses.
“And you didn’t tell him how this would actually fit me?” Simon asks and stands right in front of him, absentmindedly pulling the hair ties off his two braids and tossing them behind him. He brushes his hair loose as he talks. “I’m starting to believe you just want to see me in revealing clothing.”
“I didn’t plan this,” Grace says. “I mean I planned for the clothes, I didn’t go out of my way to get you s-slutty clothes.” Simon’s hair is now fully loose and he brushes it out of his face, though some curls immediately fall back over his forehead.
“I don’t see you complaining,” he says and steps closer. The top is tight around his torso and accentuates the curve of his chest and Grace breathes in deeply through his mouth as he looks at Simon.
“I’m not,” he says, and reaches out to grab Simon’s waist. Simon steps closer and runs his hand up Grace’s arm to rest on his shoulder. “That is just a happy coincidence.” Simon smiles, leaning up to kiss Grace. His hand slides up to play with Grace’s ear.
“I’m gonna try a shirt,” he says as he pulls away, caressing Grace’s jaw before stepping back to the couch. He picks up the shorts and the crop top, sliding the shorts on under the dress before taking it off and replacing it with the red top. He smooths it out and turns around to Grace, tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear. The crop of the shirt brings out his waist and the waistband of the shorts sit right under his belly button.
“You’re so pretty,” Grace says and walks closer to him, brushing his hair out of his face for him. Simon looks up under his eyelashes, like he does when he wants Grace to keep saying sweet things to him. Grace cups his face and kisses him. “Could look at you all day in your new clothes, pretty girl, they bring out all your best features.” Simon smiles with his eyes, looping his fingers around Grace’s left wrist.
“My best features?” he asks. Grace bites his lip, stepping behind Simon so he can embrace him and touch his chest.
“It’s hard to not notice your breasts in this shirt. Your nipples especially,” he says and pinches the buds between his thumbs and pointer fingers. “They’re always hard,” he says and Simon sucks in a harsh breath. Grace had pretty quickly figured out that Simon reacts most when he uses the word breasts, which is great because all other options make Grace sound like an immature fifteen year old.
“Yeah,” Simon says in a tiny voice.
“And your breasts are so big,” Grace squeezes him, “and soft.” Simon shudders, knees knocking together and butt pushing back into Grace’s crotch as he leans forward.
“Fuck,” he hisses, reaching back to hold onto Grace’s hip. Grace kisses his neck as he slides his hands down to Simon’s hips.
“And your pretty waist and hips. So good for me to grab,” he says and pointedly digs his fingers into his hips. A moan is knocked out of Simon’s throat and he throws his head back against Grace’s shoulder. Grace is getting hard so fast from all his sweet sounds.
Someone knocks on the door, and they spring apart at the sound. Simon is red in the face and has his hand wrapped over his shoulder, and Grace almost drops his glasses when he swings his head to look at the door.
“That’s— It’s probably Rocky,” he says and rights his glasses.
“I’m going to my room,” Simon says and turns on his heel to leave, and Grace gets a second to breathe and stare down at his half-chub before who he presumes is Rocky knocks impatiently on the door again. He wipes his sweaty hands on his pants and goes over to the door.
“Cheese and crackers, Rocky,” he sighs when he’s opened it and sees his best friend, “why do you always knock like you’re trying to break down the door?”
“Am not trying to break down door, Rocky uses as much force as is needed,” Rocky says and holds up two hands. He clicks, tilting his body towards Grace’s body, and then stills. “Did I interrupt, question?” he asks with a mischievous tone, and Grace groans.
“You asshole, you heard us!” he says and aims a flat footed kick against his body, which Rocky side steps neatly.
“You were not fucking. Grace say Rocky not come near if I hear reproduction noises, no reproduction noises,” he says and waves a hand in Grace’s direction.
“I— Rocky! You know what I meant by that,” Grace says and face palms.
“No reproduction noises,” Rocky shrugs.
“God, I am not explaining foreplay to you,” Grace groans. “Did you need something?”
“The dome extension is to be installed today. You forget, question?” Rocky asks and tilts his carapace. Grace suddenly remembers the park section they had been planning for months, and that it was being installed today.
“Shoot, it completely slipped my mind,” he mumbles and pushes his hair off of his forehead. “Let me talk to Simon and I’ll be right with you.” Rocky nods and settles down outside the door, and Grace goes off deeper into the house. On the way to the bedrooms he grabs Simon’s clothes to bring with him.
Simon is sitting in his bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a tablet in his lap that he’s reading from. He looks up at Grace.
“Did he need something?” he asks quietly. Grace sighs, putting down the pile of clothes by Simon’s feet.
“The dome extension.” A shadow of recognition passes over Simon’s face and he locks the tablet. “I need to supervise so everything is where it should be and i can approve the placement.”
“Right. How much time should that take?” he asks and and pulls his knees up so he can wrap his arm around his legs. Grace sits down and puts his hand on Simon’s forearm.
“I’m not sure, but it shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.” Simon nods, turning his arm so he can interlace his fingers with Grace.
“Did he hear us?” he asks quietly, shoulders folding into his chest.
“He’s outside the door,” Grace says, and Simon stares down at his knees.
“So he heard,” he murmurs and lets his hair fall over his face.
“Yeah,” Grace sighs. “He’s not gonna say anything about it to you, I promise, I’ll take the questions.” Simon is silent for a long moment, then sighs.
“How are you so comfortable with him knowing all this shit?” he asks and tosses his hair out of his face to look at Grace. “He can hear what your entire body does at any given moment, doesn’t that ever freak you out?” Grace shrugs.
“We shared a space ship for years, so I got used to it. I was equally curious about how his body works in return, so we… We don’t have those boundaries,” he says. Simon’s eyebrows knit together.
“I’m not gonna pretend that’s not weird, because it is,” he says, squeezing Grace’s hand. “I didn’t want him to know,” he adds quietly.
“Why—” Grace cuts himself off. Simon’s expression is dark, worried, his jaw tense.
“I don’t want him to treat me differently,” he says, still quiet. “He’s an asshole sometimes but I like him, he’s a cool guy. I don’t want him to think I’m some sorta sissy.”
“He— Simon! Don’t say that about yourself,” Grace says and scoots closer so he can cup Simon’s cheek. “He’s not gonna be mean to you, and you’re not gonna be mean to yourself.” Simon sighs and leans into his hand.
“It’s not mean to call me a sissy if I like to wear dresses and get fucked like a girl,” he mutters and rubs his thumb over the back of Grace’s hand.
“There’s nothing wrong with cross dressing, Simon,” Grace says, rubbing his thumb over his jaw.
“It’s not play anymore. It’s not pretend,” Simon mumbles. “Not if I do it all the time.”
“Do you feel like a woman?” Grace asks gently and Simon’s shoulders hike up to his ears as he shakes his head. “Then you’re not a woman.” Simon makes a frustrated noise.
“As if it’s that simple,” he starts, but Grace squeezes his hand to cut him off.
“We’re not on Earth, or—or Eden. We’re on Erid and we’re not going anywhere, so we can make our own rules. You’re not less of a man for wearing a dress, or being on the bottom, or because I call you pretty. Heck, in a dress you’re still more manly than me!” he says, and Simon rolls his shoulders. He doesn’t look convinced.
“You don’t believe that. I’ve never been— I’m not manly, not like you think. I was the bitch in prison because I realized I liked it more than bitching others, so why not lean into it? It’s not manly, doesn’t matter what I look like,” he says and looks away with something like mixed shame and fear on his face. “One of the guards used to say I was the prison’s wife,” he adds in a mumble. Grace gasps, covering his mouth in horror.
“I’m so sorry, Simon,” he says and covers Simon’s hand. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, it’s never really bothered me. I know… I know what I am. And I’m happy I’m with you and being your pretty girl.” He sighs deeply in relief. “I don’t know why I’ve been so worried about Rocky’s reaction. It’s not like he’d force me to give him a turn,” he adds, and Grace chokes on his spit and has to cough to clear his throat.
“No, yeah, he— they don’t reproduce sexually,” he says, and Simon snorts at his stuttering.
“They don’t do anything?” he asks and raises his eyebrows.
“No, Eridians lay eggs that then fuse together. They don’t have any sexual contact, the concept is very strange for them. I explained it to Rocky on the trip here and he said it’s very unusual for Eridians to do anything we would classify as sexual,” Grace says. “I mean, they can, it’s just not something vast majority of them want to do. Rocky said it was a, and I quote, ‘disgust leaky human weird-thing,’ but I think he was teasing me.” Simon hums in thought, playing with Grace’s fingers.
“He’s probably a pervert but didn’t want you to know. Definitely super kinky and into leaky aliens,” Simon says with a smirk pulling on his lips. Grace hears a muted thump outside and realizes he said it knowing Rocky would hear him.
“Please don’t teach him words like that,” Grace says and covers his face with his hand. Simon laughs. He leans closer and nudges Grace’s hand aside with his nose so he can kiss him, quickly opening his mouth to press their tongues together. Grace responds eagerly before his body remembers Rocky can hear them and he pulls back with a flaming red face. Simon laughs again and straightens up.
“You should go supervise the extension now, Grace. I’ll wait for you,” he says and nods down to the tablet he’d been reading on. Grace sighs and nods, pecking him before getting up and leaving the room. He finds Rocky outside the door still, with his legs tucked under himself.
“Time go, bud,” Grace says and closes the door behind him, pulling the heels of his Converse up.
“Simon is fucking rude,” Rocky says as he stands up, and Grace laughs and starts walking down the path from his house.
“He was messing with you,” he agrees and puts his hands in the pockets of his pants. Rocky makes a huffing motion, one of many gestures he’d picked up during their time together on the Hail Mary, and then they walk in silence for a few minutes before Rocky speaks up again.
“Does Simon think Rocky is 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮 𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅯?” Rocky whistles.
“I don’t know what that last word is,” Grace says.
“Means someone who would not love their friends if they revealed something personal about themself,” he says, kicking sand as they walk. He looks annoyed and distressed, and Grace hums a soothing tune for a few seconds.
“Judgemental,” he says. “He was scared you would be.”
“I care about Simon, would never judge! Why Simon think Rocky is mean, question? Want Simon to like me,” Rocky says, an anxious ripple in his vents.
“That makes you sound like you’re crushing on him,” Grace teases and kicks some sand towards him, and Rocky huffs his vents.
“Do not want to crush Simon,” he grumbles.
“That’s not— It means you like him, like you would a mate. It was a joke,” Grace explains, squinting as he spots movement in the distance. He speeds up but then stops as he realizes Rocky has stopped walking. He turns and sees him standing stock still, feet digging into the sand.
“Why would be joke?” he asks quietly. Grace sighs, crouching down in front of Rocky.
“Cultural difference?” he asks and Rocky kneads the sand under him, shaking his carapace ‘no.’
“Is not joke to me. Feelings are not joke,” he says and angles himself downwards, legs folding inwards. Grace gets the weird déjà vu of having had a similar conversation before, but also having had difficult conversations with Rocky in the past.
“You okay, Rocks?” he asks, and Rocky slumps down and folds his arms in front of him.
“Liking someone is not joke. Would not…” He clicks. “Talk later. Need to supervise dome extension now.” Rocky gets up and gallops down the beach, and Grace huffs but follows after him.
The installation of the extension goes very smoothly. It’s a park of sorts, a spot near the edge of the bio dome with an Eridian section and an Earth atmosphere section, so Grace can have his students and others visit. There’s a bench and a table on his side and a swing, just for fun, which is adapted so Simon can use it too. The ground is firmer, more compact so they can walk easily on it, and there’s a few large, flat stones sunk into the ground to mark out the area. Grace and Rocky look it over before declaring it a successful installation, and they sit on the bench while the Eridian builders and engineers return to their side.
“This was a great idea, Rocky,” Grace says and pats Rocky’s closest leg.
“Will Simon appreciate too?” Rocky asks.
“I bet he will,” Grace says and leans back on the bench, looking up at the simulated, foggy sky.
“Good, happy happy,” Rocky says and taps his claws together. Then he climbs off the bench and stretches. Grace gets up as well, patting the bench before putting his hands in his pockets. They have a great view of the ocean from this spot and Grace has to take a moment to admire it.
“This is beautiful. I need to get Simon up here,” he says and smiles down at Rocky, who flutes a noise of agreement.
“We can tell him when we return, we bring him here!” Rocky suggests, and Grace clicks his tongue.
“I don’t know if he’d be in the mood right now,” he says with a shrug, and Rocky turns his carapace up towards him.
“Is it because Rocky interrupted?” he asks, and Grace sighs as he nods. “Oh. Apology.”
“It’s fine, lesson learned for next time,” Grace says and holds his hand out for a fist bump. Rocky reaches up to reciprocate, chittering.
“Why does Grace call Simon pretty girl, question?” he asks as he pulls back, and Grace’s face heats up like a match lighting and he shoves his hand back into his cardigan pocket.
“How about we stop talking for a minute?” he mumbles and starts walking back towards the house. Rocky laughs loudly, running to catch up with him. After what has to be exactly one minute, Rocky speaks up again.
“Do you call Simon pretty girl while fucking?” he asks, and even after years of knowing him hearing Rocky swear as easy as he breathes is sometimes jarring. Especially when it’s about Grace’s sex life.
“Holy mother of toast Rocky,” he says, hanging his glasses on his ear so he can rub his face. “I don’t— Hang on, you heard all that! Why are you even asking me about this?” If Rocky had been in possession of a face he would have been grinning mischievously.
“Grace is funny to watch squirm,” he says, and Grace huffs. He crouches down to lean over Rocky, opening his mouth wide and wagging his tongue at him. He’s done it before and he knows exactly what’s coming. Rocky shrinks back from his leaky, wet, human mouth and squeals, and Grace laughs before remembering what Simon had said and he thinks; what if this was basically fetish material for Eridians? He freezes, and Rocky makes a curious noise.
“Let’s go back,” Grace says and straightens up.
“Grace?” Rocky asks, following him when he starts walking. “You act weird for no reason.” Grace rights his glasses.
“Plenty of reason to act the way I do,” he says. “Or did you want me to lick you?” Rocky vents harshly, kicking sand in Grace’s direction.
“Not point,” he says.
“What do you mean not point?” Grace asks, and Rocky kicks more sand. They’re getting pretty close to his house.
“Point is not what I want, point is that Grace act different.” Rocky shrugs two hands in the air. “Stupid, did you not sleep? Why act different?”
“I’m not— C’mon Rock, I was just reminded of something Simon said before we went to the extension,” Grace says, gesturing with his hands still in his pockets.
“Reminded of what?” Rocky asks, walking ahead so Grace can look at him without bending his neck too much. Grace blows air slowly while considering how to phrase it.
“He said that maybe Eridians are into squishy aliens as a kink,” he finally says, and Rocky startles so violently he almost falls over in the sand. He rights himself, vents spluttering loudly, and Grace stills.
“Lies and slander!” Rocky fumes and starts stomping towards the house. Grace laughs incredulously and walks after him.
“How is that slander? He didn’t intend to harm your reputation, he only said it to me! Definitionally not slander,” he says. “What are you talking about?”
“Do not matter.” Grace laughs at his grumpy tones.
“Sounds like it hit too close to home,” he says, and Rocky swears at him.
“Is not home. Is on Earth, actually,” he fumes. Grace laughs. They’re almost home, now walking up the stairs to the house. “Tell him nothing about it is true.”
“You can tell him yourself,” Grace says and slips past Rocky to open the door. Rocky hesitates before going in, carefully wiping his feet on the doormat so he doesn’t drag soil and sand into the house. Grace kicks off his shoes.
“You’re back?” Simon calls and Grace walks into the kitchen. Simon is there, wearing one of Ilyukhina’s flowery skirts and the new crop top, turning off the faucet and lifting a filled glass from the sink.
“Rocky’s here too,” Grace says and gives Simon a peck on the cheek. Simon grabs the portable translator Rocky had put together for him and turns it on, then hangs it on the waistband of his skirt.
“Hi Rocky,” Simon says when the Eridian walks into the kitchen. The bravado and anger Rocky had been filled with on the way to the house has completely vanished and he looks downright shy, which is something Grace has rarely seen on him.
“Hi,” he says and twists his body back and forth in a fidgety motion.
“Are you gonna call him out on his lies and slander now?” Grace asks and steps around Simon so he can get a glass of water too. Rocky huffs, folding what can be best described as his shoulders inward.
“No,” he says, and Simon looks between the two of them.
“Did I lie about him?” he asks more earnestly than Grace expected, and he shakes his head.
“Rocky can tell you,” he says and leans on the counter. Simon turns expectantly to Rocky, who fidgets.
“Is this about what I said to Grace earlier? About you getting off to leaky aliens?” he asks and Grace covers his laugh with a cough. Rocky shrinks even more, twisting back and forth.
“Eridians not reproduce like humans,” he says, tapping his fingers together.
“Humans have sex outside of reproduction all the time. Fuck, it’s the only thing me and Grace can do,” Simon says and drinks his water. Rocky hums. Grace fidgets with an especially fuzzy part of his cardigan.
“Would be strange for an Eridian to do,” Rocky says, “so is not talked about.”
“I get it, it’s taboo. It’s impolite to speak about in most circumstances,” Simon says. “I was just messing with you man, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He sets his glass down to kneel down in front of Rocky, who shuffles slightly backward from him.
“Yes, was joke,” Rocky says, becoming more tense, “but this is thing I did not tell Grace everything about.” Glass forgotten, Grace perks up, coming to stand behind Simon.
“What did you leave out?” he asks, and Rocky hums.
“I said that what you would call intercourse is a disgust leaky human weird-thing that Eridians would never do, but that was lie. It is thing juvenile Eridians do, to bond with friends and future mates. Most grow out of it, but Rocky did not,” he explains, sitting down on the floor in a loafed position. He has one arm free to gesticulate with. “Rocky not tell anyone but mate-Adrian about this because they understand, they do not think of me as strange. They not understand the desire, but they do not treat me badly. When Rocky met Grace, I was going crazy from being alone for long time, I first think it was strange, erotic nightmare. When on the ship…” Rocky reaches his hand out towards Simon. “Me and Grace do many many exchange of culture and science, and he teach me about human biology. I teach him about Eridian biology. I not tell him that Rocky is disgrace and disgust person who think Grace biology is arousing. Rocky bad,” he finishes off and Grace gets the sense he’s doing the equivalent of looking down in shame.
“Oh, Rocks,” he says and kneels down to put his hand out for him, and Rocky gingerly takes it. “You’re not bad. It’s not weird if you don’t wanna share that willy nilly with someone you hadn’t even known that long.” Simon reaches out too, patting the top of Rocky’s carapace.
“I’m sorry man, I shouldn’t have said that shit. It was just a joke,” he says and Rocky coos quietly.
“If Simon and Grace forgive Rocky, I accept it,” he says.
“Of course,” Grace says and leans in for a hug. Rocky lifts his arms to wrap around him and it’s only when he’s embraced that he remembers what Rocky had just fricking told him. Beside him Simon snorts, and Grace gives him an unimpressed look.
“Sorry, you’re probably better at keeping it in your pants than some people." At the same time as Grace says,
“Hey,” Rocky says,
“Rocky not wear pants.” Grace straightens up and self consciously pulls his sleeves down over his wrists.
“It’s a saying,” Grace says, and Rocky nods.
“Again, apology. I will not mention again,” he says and stands up like he’s going to leave, but Simon puts his hand on his arm. Rocky stills, focusing his attention on him.
“I’m curious about what you said, though,” he says. “You said Adrian doesn’t understand the desire, but can you still have sex together?” Grace hums; he’s also curious, now that he thinks about it. He’d thought he’d learned everything there was to know about Rocky, but he could still surprise him after all these years.
“No. It is a physical ability to experience arousal that Eridians normally lose as they age. Adrian is normal, grew out of it. They can touch Rocky but I cannot touch in return, and that make me sad. I want Adrian to enjoy too,” he says, humming sadly. “Something is wrong with me.” Grace sits down next to him and holds his hand out for him again. Rocky puts his curled hand in his palm and Grace holds it firmly.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re just different,” he says, and Rocky sighs. He shuffles closer to Grace to press into his side.
“Grace is best friend, not want to mess up,” he says softly. “And Simon important too.” Simon smiles, holding his hand out for Rocky to take too.
“You’re a pretty cool guy, Rocky,” he says and squeezes his hand. Rocky perks up, making a happy, wordless noise. Grace smiles fondly at them, leaning over to Simon to kiss him on the cheek, and Simon turns his head to catch his mouth like he often does. Rocky squeaks and they both pull away, and Grace laughs awkwardly at himself.
“Sorry Rocks,” he says. Rocky pulls his hands back and tucks his arms in front of himself.
“Is okay. Grace do erotic things all the time without knowing,” he says with more of his usual teasing tone, and Grace splutters while Simon and Rocky laugh.
“He does,” Simon agrees.
“Hey! No ganging up on me!” Grace squawks, swatting Rocky’s carapace. Simon pinches Grace’s chin, eyes still sparkling with mirth.
“It should give you some confidence that two species find you attractive,” he says, and Grace has to mentally concede that it’s not a bad thing.
“Grace is stupid, statement,” Rocky says and chitters a laugh. “Good thing Grace is pretty.” Simon laughs again, face soft.
“I regret showing you so many movies,” Grace says and leans against the wall behind him. Simon scoots closer so he can curl up against his left side, tucking the skirt around his legs. It’s flowy and slightly translucent, and Simon runs his fingers over the small printed flowers.
“Adrian said Simon got new clothing. Is that one of them, question?” Rocky points to Simon’s legs.
“It used to belong to Ilyukhina,” Grace says. “The shirt is new.” Rocky hums.
“I like!” he says. “It sound beautiful on texture-scar,” he adds in what Grace can only call a bashful tone, and Simon’s shoulders raise a little. Rocky points to Grace’s right arm, where the scar of Rocky’s claw sits. “That is beautiful texture-scar too.” Grace ruffles his hair out of his face and smiles.
“You’re not too bad looking yourself. I know color doesn’t mean anything to you, but you have very pleasing colors, good contrast,” he says and reaches over for a fist bump, which Rocky returns with a happy chitter.
“Could Simon show Rocky new clothing? I like how clothing sounds on humans,” he says and Simon throws a puzzled look at Grace.
“He has a lot of opinion on clothes, yeah,” Grace says. “He’s had a lot of input on the textile production.” Rocky reaches out and taps Grace’s leg; he’s wearing the pants he made from one of the Hail Mary flight suits, they’re his go-to for school so he can carry things with him.
“These obscure sound, not pretty. Simon clothes are better, only compliment your sound.”
“What’s so beautiful about our sounds?” Simon asks and taps his fingers on his knee. Rocky’s quiet for a moment as he thinks.
“They sing to me,” he finally says. “Your bodies hum and sing and whistle. Is beautiful.”
“That’s amazing,” Grace breathes, feeling his heart squeeze a little. He hears Simon inhale, and it sounds shaky. He puts his hand on top of Simon’s and interlaces their fingers.
“Thank you,” Simon whispers. He squeezes Grace’s fingers then lets them go, using the leverage of the wall behind him to stand up. “I could show you the other clothes now,” he says and gestures for Rocky to follow him as he walks out of the kitchen. Rocky perks up and rushes to follow, leaving Grace to get to his feet in a less elegant manner.
Grace isn’t sure why he imagined them setting it up like a makeover montage in a 2000’s teen movie, but he did. Instead of that nonsense they go into Simon’s room and Rocky sits on the floor while Simon spreads out the clothes on his bed. Grace stands by the door, watching as Simon does a spin and the skirt flares out.
“Beautiful sound!” Rocky exclaims and does jazz hands. “What would you call that sound, Grace?” he asks.
“Swish. It swishes.”
“It’s very airy,” Simon says, lifting the edge of the skirt out and letting it fall. He spins again and then kneels down in front of Rocky. “You said you liked the shirt too?” He tugs down the hem a little. The skirt sits high on his waist and there’s only a thin strip of skin that’s visible.
“Yes! Only dull body-sound a little, not too much. Pleasant,” Rocky says and reaches out to tap his claws in front of Simon’s chest. “Soft where Simon is soft.” Grace smiles at the description, and Simon laughs, rubbing his hand over his left pec.
“I wonder what you’ll think about the sweater,” he says and stands up again.
“Is fluffy shirt like Grace cardigan?” Simon nods. “Wear without shirt, better sound,” Rocky says with a finger in the air.
“Didn’t realize this was a striptease,” Grace says before he can stop his mouth, and he facepalms immediately. “Sorry.”
“Striptease?”
“What that?” Simon and Rocky ask at the same time, and Grace clears his throat awkwardly.
“It’s a thing— It’s when you take off your clothes in a sexy way to arouse someone else,” he says and takes off his glasses to pinch his nose. “Sorry, not the time to make those kinda jokes.” Simon snorts and takes off his shirt in one smooth motion. He balls it up and throws it at Grace, who barely manages to catch it.
“Why is that arousing?” Rocky asks while Simon pulls the sweater on over his head.
“I don’t know,” Grace says while intently watching Simon’s warm skin disappear underneath blue knitted fabric. “I’ve never seen the appeal.” Simon turns around again and holds out his arms. Grace obviously hasn’t had the opportunity to fix the left sleeve on it so it hangs loose from his stump, but the right sleeve also hangs over his hand. He shakes his hand to free it, then brushes his hair out of his face.
“It’s the softest thing I’ve ever owned,” Simon says and rubs the hem between his fingers. He kneels down in front of Rocky again, sitting back with his butt on his feet. “I don’t know how well you can feel that,” he says and holds out the left sleeve in offer. Rocky very carefully takes it between his fingers to squeeze it.
“Feel like Earth stress ball Grace give me. Soft soft soft,” he says. “It sounds nice on Simon.” Grace watches them both feel out the knit of the fabric with their fingers, humming thoughtfully together.
“It looks nice on you too,” Grace chimes in. Simon looks up at him, softly through his eyelashes, and Grace wants to cover his face with kisses.
Simon stands up and goes back to his bed to take off his sweater and instead picks up the indigo dress. He hesitates before putting it down and grabbing the black dress instead.
“Could you help me put it on?” he asks and turns to look at Grace.
“Sure, pretty girl,” he answers, the pet name slipping out without thinking. Simon presses the dress to his chest with a start, looking at Rocky, and Grace covers his mouth.
“Simon is pretty girl?” The words are gentle in Rocky’s chosen TTS-voice but they hit Simon like a shotgun blast; he flinches and curls into himself with a gasp. Grace puts his hands on his shoulders. “Apology!” Rocky squeaks and gets to his feet. “I was curious, apology apology apology.”
“It’s okay,” Simon mumbles and shakes his head. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“You sure you’re alright?” Grace asks and hugs him around the back, and Simon takes a deep breath.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out,” he says and drops the dress on the bed.
“Is okay, no one is mad,” Rocky says and walks over with his hand out to Simon. “Apology.” Simon sits down on the bed and takes Rocky’s hand to squeeze. “Rocky can leave?” he offers, and Simon shakes his head. Grace brushes his fingers through Simon’s hair and combs it away from his face, and it makes some of the tension in his shoulders leave.
“Why am I so screwed up, Grace?” he mumbles softly, and Grace leans down to kiss him on the forehead. This is usually what happens after Simon gets some sort of flashback, or at least what Grace would describe as a flashback, and he just has to soothe him and be a steady presence next to him.
“You’re not, we’ve all got our things,” he says, eliciting a deep sigh from Simon. “We can stop the fashion show and watch a movie or something.”
“Watch Speed?” Rocky suggests.
“I’m fine,” Simon says and grabs a familiar dark green piece of fabric; he pulls on his shirt dress and lifts one leg up under him on the bed. “What do you mean you were curious?” he asks, looking at Rocky, who taps his claws on the floor.
“Unsure what pretty girl mean for Simon, if it is name anyone can say,” he says. “I have names only Adrian call me and names only I call them.”
“Like a nickname?” Grace asks, and Rocky waves a hand in a ‘kind of’ motion.
“I would not call someone who is not my mate those names. Affectionate term.”
“A pet name. Like calling someone baby or sweetheart,” Grace says.
“Like pet name, but only for mates. To call someone else those names would be inappropriate and rude. If it is name only for mates to call, apology, Rocky not mean to overstep.” Grace opens his mouth to respond but stops himself, instead sitting down next to Simon and wrapping his arm around his waist. He should let Simon answer instead, it would be clearer from him.
“It’s a sex thing, most of the time,” Simon says after a moment of thinking, and Grace tries and fails not to blush.
“Geesh,” he mutters, and Simon snorts.
“I’m not wrong,” he says and pats Grace’s cheek.
“So Rocky should not call you pretty girl?” Rocky asks and Grace strangles a noise in his throat. There’s nothing erotic about the TTS-voice but it sounds so intimate when he says it. This time Simon just laughs and cocks his head to the side.
“I don’t know, are you fucking me?” Rocky makes a noise not unlike a trumpet, which drowns out Grace’s undignified stuttering, and folds himself low to the floor. He’s trembling, and Grace quiets down when he realizes Rocky’s not getting back up.
“Hey,” he says and slides down on the floor so he can kneel in front of Rocky and offer him his hand, “what’s wrong?” Rocky twists himself back and forth, a self-soothing gesture.
“Apology, was unprepared. Was not expected,” he mumbles. “Rocky not feel this unless with Adrian, not feel this with friend since I was juvenile.” He stands up and takes a few steps back, and Grace watches with worry at the tremor in his limbs that persists.
“You’re in a bonding mood?” Simon asks, and Rocky slowly nods, turning in an oscillating half-circle on the spot.
“Apology. I go home to Adrian and deal with now.”
“You can’t wait it out?” Simon asks and Rocky shakes his carapace ‘no.’
“Not possible. Is… inevitable,” he says and takes another few steps towards the door. “Hurry hurry hurry.” Grace gets up, brushing down his pants.
“I’ll walk you to the airlock, pal,” he says and opens the bedroom door wider. Rocky nods and stiffly walks out, and Grace follows after him. Simon comes too, slipping on his boots at the door. He doesn’t talk while they walk, watching Rocky’s every step with a steady gaze. Grace keeps checking in him with every dozen feet, and Rocky wordlessly answers in affirmative. The nearest airlock is also the closest airlock to Adrian and Rocky’s home.
“I’ll call for Adrian once we open the door,” Simon says when they can see the airlock. Grace nods, too focused on Rocky’s hobbled movements to form cohesive words. Rocky has to stop a few times to collect himself before they’re finally there, and he leans against the dome wall while Grace turns the handle on the round door and waits for it to slide open. As soon as the door is open enough for Simon to slip in he does, cupping his hand in front of his mouth and bellowing Adrian’s name. It’s the loudest sound Grace has heard come out of Simon in a long time and both he and Rocky flinch at the volume.
“Adrian! Adrian is on way,” Rocky says, after a drawn out moment where the only thing Grace can hear is Simon’s voice echoing down the tunnel. Rocky collapses down on the ground with a heaved sigh, so relieved, and Grace kneels down next to him. “Adrian is running.”
“They’re coming buddy, you’ll be okay,” Grace says and places his hand on Rocky’s side. Rocky groans a low, discordant sound and leans into the touch.
“Sweet mate-Adrian…” he croons, dissolving into incoherent music that Grace can’t translate into anything. It sounds more like he’s moaning, and the delayed realization comes in that Rocky is moaning. He blushes and thinks about removing his hand, but decides not to.
“You’re okay, we’ve got you,” he says. In the distance he hears the thunderous sound of Adrian galloping down the tunnel, and he keeps his hand on Rocky’s side.
“Rocky! My beloved, what happened? What is wrong? Your song is discordant, your body sounds weak,” they say when they arrive, too fast for the translator to pick up more than a few words. They use their longer legs and body to leverage Rocky up to his feet again.
“He’s turned on, Adrian,” Simon says, crouching down to help Rocky straighten out a stubbornly bent leg. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how he’d react to me saying perverse shit, I thought he could handle it.”
“Not Simon fault,” Rocky says and fumbles in his direction with his claws. “I am not mad.” Simon’s face is still set in a deep frown.
“Quiet, Rocky, you will be okay, will take care of you,” Adrian says and purrs against him. It’s so intimately sweet it makes Grace’s teeth hurt.
“Keep us updated on him, okay?” he asks and Adrian hums a yes and starts walking down the tunnel with Rocky next to them. Grace turns the handle to close the door and then leans against it when it’s locked. He puts his face in his hands and breathes, tries to slow it down and soothe his anxious nervous system. He jumps when Simon puts his hand on his shoulder but lets himself be pulled into a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in Simon’s strong shoulder.
“That was scary for you, wasn’t it?” Simon asks after a few minutes of just standing together.
“Fuck,” Grace bites out and Simon huffs something close to a laugh.
“Yeah.”
They don’t say much more as they walk back to the house, Grace holding Simon’s hand tight. He sits down on the couch when they get home, taking off his cardigan so he can wrap the quilt around his shoulders. Simon sits down next to him but stands up again almost immediately, pressing a quick kiss to Grace’s forehead before going to the kitchen. Grace hears him move around in there and he lets the familiar sounds soothe him.
It’s not the scariest thing Grace has ever witnessed, but it’s staying in front of his eyes. He’s never seen Rocky inebriated or intoxicated, had thought it was impossible based on what dozens of Eridians had taught him. His hands tremble as he thinks about it and he doesn’t understand why he was so scared. Rocky’s fine, he’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay, Adrian is gonna take care of him.
So why can’t he get the image of Rocky trembling out of his head?
“Grace, do you want tea?” Simon calls from the kitchen.
“Yeah,” he calls back, heavily standing up and shuffling into the kitchen. The kettle is boiling on the stove and Simon has placed the tin of powdered ‘tea’ and the granulated sugar substitute on the counter. He picks out two mugs from the cupboards and puts them down, and Grace pours the ratio of sugar and tea he likes in his mug and lets Simon pour hot water in it before stirring.
“How did the extension turn out?” Simon asks while pouring water in his own mug. Grace sighs, leaning on the kitchen island with his hands around the mug.
“It looks really good. I’m looking forward to having the pebbles visit. It could be a good place for that date night we were talking about?” he says. Simon stands next to him and presses his stump against Grace’s right shoulder.
“We could look at it. It’s a bit to walk just for a meal,” he says and drinks.
“Wanna go today?”
“No,” Simon says and puts his mug down so he can bully his way into Grace’s arms and lean against his chest. Grace turns his head so he can take a sip of his tea without putting his mug in Simon’s face and wraps his left arm around his back. Simon doesn’t say anything else, just drops a few scattered kisses on Grace’s neck and rubs his fingers up and down his spine.
“Wanna go to bed early?”
“Shower first, we’re all dusty,” Simon says and picks up his mug to drain it. He waits for Grace to finish his tea in a slower fashion before stepping back to go to the bathroom, and Grace trails after him. They undress next to each other and get in the tub, and while helping Simon wash his hair Grace starts to get hard. You can’t fault him for it. Simon is beautiful, and he moans when Grace scratches his scalp. Grace pulls down the showerhead and rinses his hair for him, and hangs it back up so he can wrap his arms around his waist.
“Hey,” he murmurs and presses his erection between Simon’s cheeks. Simon breathes in slowly, then puts his hand on the wall in front of them and leans forward.
“Here or in bed?” he asks. Grace plants his chin on Simon’s shoulder so he can look down at his chest.
“No clean up here,” he says. Simon pushes his ass back against him.
“It would be less clean up if you didn’t finger fuck me for five minutes every time we have sex,” he says and Grace grimaces.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he says. Simon snorts, and he straightens up so he can free his hand and reach between him and Grace to grab his shaft.
“You’re not gonna rip me open,” he says and squeezes him. “C’mon.”
“I’m still new to this, alright?” Grace mumbles and rubs his scruff against Simon’s shoulder. “I trust you if you say you can handle it.” He reluctantly lets go of Simon so he can lean over to the sink and fish out a packet of lube from the bowl he’s put them in. Simon turns off the water and leans against the wall again, and Grace stands behind him with a hand on his hip.
“Go slow,” Simon mumbles when he hears Grace rip open the packet with his teeth. He hums a yes and thoroughly lubes himself up, feeling excessive even for his level of preparedness. It’s a terrifying moment before he steels himself and presses his tip into Simon. At first he doesn’t think he’s gonna go in, almost chickens out, but then Simon’s hole opens up around him and he slides in. It’s so tight, and Grace wraps his arms around Simon’s waist and thrusts up into him.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand up to Simon’s chest.
“It’s always a good sign when you swear,” Simon chuckles breathlessly. “Harder.”
“Shoot, give me a moment.” Grace pinches his nipple and Simon whines in his throat. He straightens up and shuffles in closer, wrapping one arm over his chest and the other around his hips. Simon moans quietly; he still tends to hold back noises when they have sex but not as much as he did when they first got together.
“Go hard, Grace,” Simon whispers and arches his back, “no need to be sweet.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, that’s mean,” Grace mumbles and thrusts slowly.
“Not mean,” Simon shakes his head, “just hard. Please.”
“Like this?” Grace says and sharply thrusts, and Simon shudders, nodding fast. Grace doesn’t try to go fast, just jabs his hips forward in a steady, hard pace, and he’s amazed when Simon loudly swears and pushes back against him.
“Don’t touch my dick or I’ll come,” Simon says with a whine in his voice. “I’ll come too fast.”
“So sensitive, my girl,” Grace mumbles. Simon nods fervently, clinging onto Grace’s arm. “Pretty little girl,” Grace says and marvels at the way Simon throws his head back and stutters out a moan.
“Grace,” he yelps out in between, and Grace kisses his ear.
“Would it be too much if you came now?” he asks and Simon shudders, neck bending backwards.
“Yeah, too much,” he says. “Too much, please don’t.”
“Mhm, bet you’d make really pretty noises,” Grace says and sucks on the shell of his ear; Simon cries out and digs his nails into Grace’s arm.
“Please don’t, Grace,” he begs, and Grace feels a weird surge in his stomach from the almost pained tone, the desperate whimper ripped from Simon’s throat.
“I won’t, baby girl, sweet girl,” he whispers hotly, right in Simon’s ear. “Tempting, but I said I’m not gonna be mean.” Simon shudders again and turns his head to kiss Grace, sloppily connecting their lips. It’s crooked, half off-target, so it’s more touching tongues together than lips.
“It feels really good when you do that,” Simon mumbles when Grace rubs his hand over his stomach, pressing down hard enough that he feels Simon’s abdominal muscles tense and shift. It’s just his imagination, but it’s like he can feel the head of his own dick inside of Simon’s guts when he pushes his palm down.
“Yeah? You’re so tight,” Grace whispers and Simon arches his back in response, insides clenching.
“Because you didn’t loosen me to hell and back,” Simon says, voice peaking when he says ‘hell’ from Grace thrusting particularly hard.
“I like your voice when I do that though. Beautiful voice, I love hearing it,” Grace says. Simon’s face is warm from how hard he’s blushing. “I’d love to hear you sing, I bet it’d sound amazing.” Simon is reduced to a whimpering, stuttering mess, and Grace nibbles gently on his ear and neck while he continues to fuck him. The mix of hard, precise trusts and gentle caresses with his mouth and hands is driving Simon wild, and in turn it makes Grace feel less and less connected to the steady and calm part of himself.
Simon comes with a muffled shout and his knees giving out, and Grace slips and has to catch himself on the wall so he doesn’t fall. Simon’s bent forward with his hand gripping the edge of the tub, shoulders heaving as he catches his breath. Grace is close to the precipice and he sinks down to his knees so he doesn’t have to think about standing upright and can focus on not coming from just the sight of Simon in front of him. He breathes slowly through his nose.
“Did you come?” Simon asks and turns to look at Grace over his shoulder.
“No, but I’m close,” he says and very carefully touches the underside of his shaft. Simon lowers his head between his shoulders and arches his back. Grace takes the silent permission and shuffles closer so he can slide back in. His left hand finds a path along Simon’s spine, finger tips running through the valley over his vertebrae and pushing his back down further into the arch. It doesn’t take much, a series of hurried, shallow thrusts and Grace’s hands roaming Simon’s torso, and then Grace spills inside him with a half-swallowed groan. He stays inside him until he’s mostly soft and pulls out, watching in mesmerized post-orgasmic bliss as his semen drips out of Simon’s puffy, dark hole.
“What are you looking at?” Simon says after a moment, like he’s caught on that Grace is doing something perverse, and pushes himself up so he’s kneeled comfortably in the tub. Grace grabs the sides of the tub and pulls himself up just enough that he can unfold his knee with loud twin cracks and sit down on his butt.
“Oof,” Grace mutters and leans back with his elbows on the rim of the bathtub. “I’m sticky.” Simon snorts and reaches up to pull the shower head down again. They rinse off and dry themselves, Grace toweling Simon’s hair dry before braiding it back from his face in two French braids. It’s the kind of style that really shows his cheekbones, the bold line of his nose, and Grace kisses his right cheek. He’s so beautiful.
They get dressed for bed, Simon in shorts and Grace in a T-shirt and pajama pants. They brush their teeth standing next to each other and then get in Grace’s bed, Simon spooning him with his arm slung over his waist.