Hey Kate! For a fic idea, perhaps you could have Grace saying gen z/alpha slang around his colleagues and it annoys Stratt/Carl (or both!) so much that they tackle him and start a tickle fight.
Another fic idea: Grace actually being the ler for once and pinning Stratt during a spar/wrestle match. While I do enjoy the lee content for Grace I also think he has much potential as a ler.
That's all I have to say, have a great day! Remember to rest and hydrate! 💖
hi, thanks for the ideas!
i like the gen z slang thing lol. i might do something like that soon ;)
Hi hi! I know that I send a lot of idea for fics inspired about your art but I feel like they just make like such cute fics! ANYWAY, could you make a fics about your last doodle? (The one with Simon teething). Maybe Grace say like that his teeth on the side of his face are super cool and whatever and that Simon agree that they’re AMAZING for tickling (that’s not what Grace meant or maybe it was 👀👀). Thanks! Feel free to ignore tho❤️
Teething
𖥔 OF COURSE!!! I wanted to write a lil something based off that doodle anyway, you just gave me a reason to do it immediately lmao! This fic is based loosely off of THIS doodle I did! I hope everyone likes it, there just being adorable together! ALSO @saturnzskyzz wrote THIS fic off of that drawing too! PLEASE go over to there blog and give it a read and give them even more love, its amazing and adorable and I cherish it sooo much! 𖥔
𖥔 Slight spoilers for both movies and book! 𖥔
Summary: Simon thinks some of his mutations are gross but Grace is there to convince him otherwise!
Switch!Grace / Switch!Simon
Word count: 2,895
“C’mere.” Simon murmurs, pulling himself closer and resting his head on my stomach. He’s settling between my legs, stretching out across me. I close the laptop resting on my chest just enough to peer over and see him snuggled closer into me with a deep sigh. A smile comes to my face as I hear and feel a soft purr come from him. I push the laptop open again, looking over my data.
Simon doesn't ask anymore, just climbs into my lap like it belongs to him. It's become so normal. He's gotten so clingy nowadays, not that I'm going to complain. The Simon now is so much different from the one I met a year and a half ago. If you had told me how much he loved to be held and touched back then, I would have laughed right in your face. I couldn't even get close enough to look at his wounds, let alone touch him.
The trust he holds in me and Rocky is so precious to me; I try to hold it close and so delicately. It almost feels like an honor to be this close to him, to see him so open and vulnerable.
My eyes glaze over the screen for a few silent minutes, only filled with Simon's rumbling of content when he shifts his head up. Slowly, I feel him lift my shirt, like if he moves slow enough, I won't notice.
‘...Simon.” I huff from behind the laptop, shivering slightly as the cool air hits my stomach. Focus, Ryland, on your data.
“Keep working Angel…don't let me distract you~” he hums softly. The smirk was evident and clear in his voice. I roll my eyes with an exaggerated sigh. The cool air is replaced by a warm feeling, scratchy but soft.
I glance over the laptop again with a small frown. ‘Don't let me distract you,’ he says with his head under my shirt. I lift the laptop and place it next to me on the bed, quickly abandoning my work. Simon starts rubbing his face against my skin, causing me to squirm in his hold slightly.
I reach out and pull my shirt off of his head, his curly hair a bit frizzy from the friction. He stops a moment, peering up at me through his eyebrows, making me blush slightly.
‘What are you doing?” I question, quirking an eyebrow up and poking him on the forehead. He says nothing and continues to push his face deeper into my tummy. A small reluctant smile forces itself onto my face as his beard scratches at my sensitive skin.
Simon closes his eyes and his head shifts to the other side. I flinch, feeling the mutated teeth on his right side dig into my skin. Although not all that painful, the added movement of his head worsens it.
“Ow—Simon, you're stabbing me.” He freezes and lifts his head to look down, his hair falling, obscuring his face. A light red mark starts forming on my skin, then a small bit of blood pools in a little pearl and rests on top.
“Shit, sorry.” His head leans forward and I feel his tongue run across the little area, wiping the blood away. I jump and let out a squeak, more out of shock than anything.
Ew.
Simon looks back up at me with this kind of guilty look even though it was clearly an accident and starts shimmying off my lap. I quickly grab at his arm, giving a small frown as he tries to run away, like he suddenly is not allowed to be here anymore.
“Si, it's fine. I want you to stay.” I smile, pulling at him. “It barely nicked me.” Reluctantly, he pushes himself back to his previous spot but holds his head up, his neck quirked up in an awkward position. Surely he's not going to hold it up like that the entire time.
To prove me wrong, he sits gazing at me, then stares into space for around two minutes, clearly uncomfortable and craning his neck. I roll my eyes again with an amused huff. I know this is his way of being nice and considerate but he can be a little ridiculous without realizing it.
Not wanting him to strain his neck and head more, I reach out and rest my hand on top of his head, pushing it back to my skin. He looks to me once more, looking for assurance, and I sense his slight resistance. I give a soft nod and he lets himself rest back onto me with a sigh, his shoulders untensing.
I card my left hand through his hair, twisting the soft locks around my fingers, feeling him melt deeper into me. He lets out more rumbles and purrs as my fingers lightly scratch at his scalp and move down to his ear. I carefully extend my right hand and use the mutated teeth to cup the side of his face in a gentle and loving way.
Simon jumps and twists his head away, like I burned him. “Don’t. They're gross, and you're gonna get poked again.”
I shake my head. "Stop, they're not gross.” I correct and push my palm into the side of his face again. Although he doesn't flinch away, his eyebrows furrow and a frown comes to his face. His tail flicks behind him in what I have come to know as annoyance.
"They're just teeth, Si.”
“They’re…wrong.”
“...they’re yours.” My hand moves on its own to lightly trace over one of the ridges of a tooth.
He goes quiet and I watch the gears turn in his head, leaning ever so slightly into my touch.
He's always had a terrible image of his body when it comes to his mutations after everything that happened. Although he never usually voices it out loud, like right now, he does have a habit of hiding any and all mutations he can, even if he shouldn't.
I've told him that I don't mind if he walks around with his mutations out but he seems embarrassed about them, and I guess from what I've gathered from this conversation, he thinks they're gross too.
"...you're still gonna get stabbed. And yes, they are gross.” He opens his eyes to stare deep into mine, almost challenging me to disagree again and of course I do. Like I would just let him feel that way about himself.
“Well…I think they're pretty awesome.” I chuckle while bringing my other hand down. I scratch behind his ear and lightly trail my nails down his neck, watching as one corner of his mouth twitches. He breaks eye contact, squeezing his eyes shut and starting to squirm.
“Y-You don’t hahave to pretend.” He fights the laughter bubbling in his chest. A frown comes to my face at his accusation. Why would I even lie about that?
"I'm not. I do think they're awesome.” Well now I HAVE to prove him wrong. Show him that I love every little bit of him, head to toe.
“Stohop.” Soft giggles spill from his lips as he pulls his shoulders up in defense, turning his face completely to the right and stopping my hand from moving, though my fingers continue to scrape against his skin.
“Aw, we can't have that. How am I supposed to tickle your ear now?” I chuckle lightly too, watching him struggle to stay still and keep the smile on his face from breaking through. “Move your head for me, Si?”
I nudge his shoulder with my trapped hand, feeling him shake his head a little bit against it in resistance. His face turning redder by the second.
“Nohohooo!” I move my fingers and hook under his chin slightly, scratching as much as I can, watching his tail start to wag adorably behind him.
“No? Welp, I guess I have no other choice…” My shoulders shrug as I pull my other hand away from his cheek and bring that down to the gills along his neck, tracing over the seam.
He barks out a laugh, his head quickly flinging to the left as I scratch at his skin. With the other side of his neck free, I scratch behind his ear again, fluttering my fingers over the shell.
“G-Grahace—EEEHEhehehee!! Stohohop—NOHOHO—!!!” He starts wiggling side to side; his head shoots down into my tummy again, not knowing which side to protect anymore, desperately pulling his shoulders up more.
“I’ll stop iiiiif…you say your teeth are amazing.” His legs kick against the bed and notice how he’s not putting up much of a fight; his hand just tightly gripping at my shirt. I trace a single finger around the back of his neck, pinch at his nape, and scratch the small spines that flow down his back, causing him to shoot his face back up at me.
The sight brings a giant grin to my face, his eyes crinkled shut and his cheeks a bright red hue. I slow my fingers to just dust his skin with my fingertips, letting him talk.
He peeks his teary eyes open at me, blushing more at my stare. “Nohot awesome.”
So stubborn.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I lift my hands from his neck and ears for a moment as he greedily sucks in breaths. My hands worm under him, scratching at his underarms. His elbow shoots to his side with a squeal, making him fall face-first into me again.
“AH—NAHOHOO!!! OKAYOKAYOK—*SNRK*—AHAHEHE—I-I'll sahahay ihIHIHIT!!” He sputters into my skin. I still my hands and bring them up to push his hair away from his eyes and tuck it behind his ears, earning me a slight squeak in return.
His body goes limp against mine as I continue my petting and scratching at his scalp, messing up his hair as small curls stick up. He waits a moment, hiding his face from me.
“I’m waiting, Simon~” I grin as he looks up with almost a pout. "Or do you need some more convincing?” I wiggle my fingers out in front of him. Anxious laughter suddenly springs from his mouth and he flinches away, his sharp teeth sticking out from his lips.
“Fuck no!” He yelps and tries to compose himself. “Ahem—no, I do not.” His ears flush with more embarrassment as I look at him with an expectant look. He avoids my eyes, looking out at nothing in particular, and lets out a quiet sigh.
“Fine. They're amazing…” I smirk triumphantly as he looks back to my face. “...amazing for tickling!” Before I can ask what he means, I watch in awe as the skin opens up on the left side of his face. I don't think he's ever shown me how it opens before. I've always wanted to ask but it felt like an overstep and he's already let me run so many tests and experiments at this point it almost felt rude to ask for any more, especially about stuff he's particularly sensitive about.
The sharp teeth flare up and out while the bottom ones open downwards and I can see his normal teeth and jaw behind. It's pretty remarkable; the teeth can flex and move, not stuck to a bone structure like human teeth, giving him a range of movement and motion, from what I can tell.
Simon quickly but carefully pushes the open side into my stomach as I screech, my arms flailing uselessly. He stops for a moment, giving a worried look, analyzing my face. When it's evident by my beaming smile that he didn't stab me this time, he starts right back up again.
It feels like nothing I have ever felt before. His sharp teeth twitch and move, carefully digging into my skin, like he's gnawing on me. Under that, I feel his jaw open and his normal teeth nip at my skin in an agonizing way.
I was definitely and unfortunately right about the range of movement hypothesis, and on top of that, his skin and flesh of his cheek seem to be able to move and twitch more too.
“AH—NOHOHoho!!! WahaHAIT—SIHIHIMOHOHON—!!!!” I reach forward, pushing at his shoulders as he starts to sway his head back and forth slightly. Simon pulls loud cackles from me and through all the commotions, I feel him smirk against my skin.
“Hm. I guess you were right. They're pretty fuckin useful." As he talks, his jaw and teeth scrape up and down against me, the rumblings of his voice and the air being pushed through his mouth tingling my skin.
“N-NOHOHOT WHAhahat I meheheant!!” My eyes squeeze shut, my cheeks flush, and I kick my legs out, digging my heels into the bed to push myself away. As a result, I feel his face move down as I move up, forcing his face to my lower belly, causing me to squeal and buck up my hips.
“Oh? It isn't? I mean, you sat there tickling me all you wanted with your cute lil tummy just sitting here out in the open begging for some attention.” My blush deepens, rushing to the tips of my ears as I shake my head 'no' frantically again. “I disagree, you sure this wasn't your little plan from the very beginning, Ryland?” I shoot my hands up to my face, trying to hide my embarrassment and stifle my laughter.
To be fair, this was NOT my idea from the very beginning! It was HIM who had his face under my shirt before any of this started and I will NOT take this slander!
“NO! NOHOhoho, ihihit *snrk* wahasnt’!” I peek my eyes open through my fingers and see his own closed in content as he continues to press his sharp teeth lightly into the pudge. They move up and down, just enough for me to feel as his skin lightly swipes against my own. He looks almost peaceful compared to my chaotic laughter.
“Sure.” He responds, clearly unconvinced. I feel him take a deep breath in and then blow against my skin. I arch up with a squeal as he continues to press raspberry after raspberry. His skin ripples into mine, making the teeth jump and wiggle against me more.
“TOHOHOO MUHUHCH—!! SIHIHIMON—!!!” I yelp out, my hands abandoning my face to push at him harder now and, in retaliation, he shoves his hand into my armpit.
“Stop pushin so much.” My arm flails back, trapping his wiggling fingers in my armpit. I start to sit up, trying to curl inwards. He digs in vigorously, making me flop back down with more laughter.
“EHIHIHEHAHAHhaha ohoho go-GOHOHOSH—!!!” He snorts out a laugh against my skin.
"I'll ease up a bit for you, Angel, because I'm so nice and all," and he does. Simon stops the raspberries, lifting his face from my stomach while slowly moving his fingers to lightly scratch under my arm, though it's still unbearable.
I watch with wide eyes as the side of his face closes back together and he smiles warmly at me. Though it's short-lived and is replaced by what I would consider an evil grin. He dips his head back down and starts to pepper light kisses against my belly.
“Better?” he mumbles into my sensitive stomach and although it is, I don't admit it.
“Nohoo ihits nohot!” My other arm comes out and weakly pushes at his head as uncontrollable giggles spill from me. I fling my head back against the pillow, my legs flailing behind him wildly, doing nothihng to actually stop his attack.
“Look at this lil bellybutton.” He teases, his lips shift to kiss the area, and I hear him start to purr again, clearly enjoying my torture. “So cute," he hums into it forcing a giddy squeak from my throat.
“Ehehehaha stohohop! Nohoht thehehere!” He shifts his head down more, scrapping and rubbing his beard over the little area as I arch up again with another squeal.
“Quit wigglin so much. I’m tryin to show you my appreciation and love.”
“I-I dohon’t wahant your lohove—AH-WHAHAIT—!!!” He says nothing, lets out a fake gasp of offense, and shoots his head back down, blowing a raspberry against my navel. “OKAYOKAHAhay I-I dohoho wahaHAHANT IHIHIT!!!” I bnack track imediatly as he blows one last raspberry, then plants another kiss, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
He pulls his hand from under my arm and wipes at the spit covering my stomach, making me squeak and flinch away, my residual giggles filling the air.
“Calm down Ry, I'm done.” I sigh, relaxing back into the bed, glancing at him with a silly smile. “For now at least.”
I decide to ignore that last comment and reach down to pull him in close, holding him against me. He settles back onto my tummy as his eyes flutter closed.
“I still think they're amazing.” I murmur and look down at him. I absentmindedly run a thumb over the side of his face, feeling the bumps and ridges of the teeth. They truly are beautiful, even if he doesn't see it that way.
“You keep touching them.” He states in an odd tone I can't read while his head rolls to the side.
My thumb stills. "Yeah? Is that okay?”
He doesn't answer but starts purring quietly again. He shifts, hiding his face in my stomach but I feel him smile against my skin with a hum.
𖥔 I like to think about how it would take Simon quite awhile to ever get completely comfortable showing off his mutations and such and how much of a help Grace was with that part of his life and accepting and loving those parts of him 𖥔
Summary: How did he get here? It was a question Simon had asked himself a lot during his life, normally with a bitter tang. Lately though, that question has a different tone as he builds his new life on Erid, and forms a relationship with its only other human resident.
Words: 1004
Dynamics: SFW, Ler!Simon, Ler!Grace, Simon x Grace
———
How did he get here?
It was a question Simon had asked himself a lot during his life, normally with the bitter tang of resentment, anger, confusion, or the crushing unfairness of it all.
How did he get here, watching the very last tree of Eden shrivel and die?
How did he get here, fighting in a war and taking the fall for the actions of other men? Men who blew up Filament Station and didn’t have the decency to live to see the death and destruction they caused.
How did he get here, getting shuffled from a prison cell to an iron casket? Sinking to the bottom of a blood ocean and fighting for his life, fighting to simply stay alive please please god I want to live…
How did he get here, on an alien planet—a planet that should have been taken by the Quiet Rapture like the rest of them? Cut from the bowels of the iron lung and awakening in a geodesic dome filled with the soft sounds of a beach. Missing his left arm, gaining extra teeth embedded in his face, and left wondering what was fact and what was hallucination. Here, a place crawling with sentient rock creatures, and the piercing blue eyes of the only other human for light-years around—how did he get here?
Many of those questions would remain unanswered, taunting and grating in the back of his mind for the rest of his life. Others were answered by a soft, warm voice, admitting to only knowing part of the story but promising to help fill in some of the missing pieces.
It took time.
A lot of time, for the horrors of his life to dim a little, enough to start living.
It took time for his remaining arm to loosen, to resist the urge to hold up his fist and fight fight fight. Time to accept that he was safe here, he didn’t need to be so guarded. To allow a hesitant smile to find his face when he watches his blond-haired companion bicker with his rock friend. Even more time to allow himself to seek out Grace's company on purpose, to allow a friendly pat to his shoulder, to parry one of Grace's corny jokes with a dry one of his own.
It took time still to be able to shock Grace with a surprisingly gentle hug, given after a very thoughtful gift of a little sapling. To forget himself and laugh freely in Rylands presence—Ryland now, no longer just ‘Grace’—and cherish the returned laughter. To form a relationship where shy smiles were reciprocated, trust was threaded into every interaction, warm lips met warm lips, a hand finding a home in his hand.
All of this took time, yet he still can’t grasp the changes sometimes.
How did he get here, where Simon can allow himself to feel like a boy again, meeting every tease with one of his own? Where touch doesn't mean pain, but merely affection and stupid play. Where he trusts Ryland enough to let those two hands taser his sides again and again, until eventually the man pushes his luck one poke too far.
How did he get here, chasing Ryland across the beach, the man’s laughter ringing in his ears and a mischievous smile on Simon's face, retaliation firmly on his mind?
He decides for this moment he doesn’t care how he got here, not when he finally catches up to Ryland, his lone arm wrapping around the man’s waist and pulling them both to the ground.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you, you stubborn thing?” Simon growls playfully as he wrestles Ryland into a pin. It takes some maneuvering with only one arm, but he manages it: one of Ryland’s wrists trapped beneath his knee, the other held above his head in Simon’s remaining hand.
Ryland is still huffing from the chase, but his smile is unmistakable, and the flush in his cheeks has very little to do with the exercise.
“You just make it so easy,” he counters, and there’s laughter at the edge of his words.
“Easy?” Simon questions, his brow quirking up in offence but a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I make it easy to taser me because I only have one arm?”
There was a time this would have been a sensitive topic, but not anymore. With Ryland, who makes him feel loved despite his mutations and missing arm, there is room for this playful teasing. Simon is secure in the knowledge that it stems from love and the deep comfort they have found with each other, and never malice.
Rylands smile grows, and he meets Simon’s eyes with a defiant twinkle.
“Yeah, basically,” he says, and juts his chin out, a nonverbal sign for ‘what are you going to do about it?’
Simon flicks his eyes up and down Ryland, considering his options. He knows what he wants to do, but doing it now might be difficult.
Ryland knows what Simon wants to do too. He flashes him a smug smirk and, apparently convinced he’s won, says, “What a shame. No arms left to tickle with.”
God, he can be such a brat. Simon loves it.
But he also can’t let that attitude slide, so when the idea strikes him, he acts on it immediately. Without fanfare, he lets Ryland see his grin grow a bit wider and more mischievous, and then ducks down.
He buries his face into the side of Rylands neck and unleashes a devastating onslaught of ticklish raspberries, kisses, and nibbles. He makes sure to get at his ears too—using the scruff of his beard to his advantage—and he basks in the explosive laughter and desperate squirming it causes.
A rumbling chuckle escapes him and joins Rylands shrieks and wild cackling—and while he presses his ever growing smile to Rylands neck to deliver another vicious raspberry—he has a thought.
He's not sure how he got here, but he's so happy he did.
———
A/N: … remember when I said I didn’t write for bloodymary? WELP. Listen, it’s not my fault. All the adorable fics and art on here have inspired me, even though I only saw iron lung once months ago. I had this image in my head of Simon pining Grace but not having enough arms to tickle so he has to get creative, and if I could draw I’d be unstoppable, but I can’t, so you get this. TAKE IT.
Anywho, I promise I’m writing the Ler Grace fic lol, it seems I just needed to torment him one more time. He's just SO Lee coded istg.
A/N 2: I ran out of tags!! But basically I just wanted to say I hope the characterization came out ok!!! Again I’ve only watched Iron Lung once and it was many months ago. All information and characterization about that game and movie I’ve mostly gotten from fics, so hopefully the lore is correct 😅
Summary: A ship full of all the knowledge humanity possesses and an honest to god alien, yet the two saviors of the world find themselves becoming bored on the return trip to Erid. Hey, it could happen to anyone.
Luckily, Rocky has always been very good at entertaining himself, even when his roommate is being annoying…
Words: 2109
Dynamics: Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky. Rocky POV
A/N: Just a shorter story of a silly idea I had. I love the idea that the shine of first contact dims and eventually Grace and Rocky start bothering and prodding at each other, like true best friends do. This is sorta a prequel to a fic I’m working on rn based on this request, so stay tuned for that one too!
———
I like to think I kept my dorkiness in check when meeting an alien… but I’m not so sure I succeeded. Listen, you really can’t blame me. At that point I had spent 46 years in the Tau Ceti system trying and failing to science up a solution to the astrophage crisis all on my own. I think it’s only natural to be a little geeked when a real-life fucking alien shows up with a whole spaceship brimming with science potential and alien technology, but I did try to keep a lid on it.
It apparently wasn't a very tight lid. Stepping onto the Hail Mary, I couldn't help myself from bouncing up and down excitedly, my voice raised to an almost embarrassing octave as I looked at all the human things. When Grace asked what I wanted to see first, I basically tripped over myself trying to decide, and ended up pointing at six different things in the span of thirty seconds before making up my mind. It was the kind of behavior I would expect from a young Eridian, not someone at the grown age of 291 years old like myself.
In the back of my mind I had chided myself. This was Erid’s first contact and I had to be a good representative. I was the only Eridian Grace had met—everything he would learn about my people he would learn through me. So I could not embarrass myself in front of my new alien friend by accidentally clueing him into the fact that I’m a huge dork.
Turns out, I didn't have to worry about that, because Grace is an even bigger dork.
As excited as I was to learn about humans and Earth, Grace was ten times more excited to learn about Eridians and Erid. Which was a good thing, too, because it gave us something to talk about after we finished our mission and pointed the Hail Mary toward my home.
It was through those conversations that Grace's dorkiness really shone through. When we discussed Erid, he would constantly interrupt his own question with even more questions, often trying to theorize and answer them himself before I could. Then, when I finally could answer, he would gush over the new discovery before launching right into his next query. Not that I was any better. Humans were absolutely fascinating, and my favorite way to kill time was to pick Grace's brain and geek out with him.
I didn’t think we’d ever get bored… until we did. Oops.
I suppose that was only natural. We are currently one whole year into the return trip to Erid, stuck on a ship barely big enough for the two of us, and apparently there is only so much talking you can do before you simply run out of words. Grace's movies and thinking machines are pretty entertaining too, but even those lose their shine after a while.
I’m dealing with the boredom by working on a new project, naturally. I’m tired of the xenonite ball. It's cramped and annoying to maneuver around on this small ship. And if I’m being honest… I also just want to be able to interact with Grace more closely. Even if there will always be some sort of barrier between us, I could at least make one that could allow me to properly hug my friend.
So that's what I'm doing. I’ve taken inspiration from the mesh xenonite panel on my ball and am essentially making an EVA suit out of the material. It's very time-consuming, and honestly a little boring too, but it does require all my focus. I can't afford to misalign any of the very small fractals of xenonite. This needs to withstand the pressure difference between my atmosphere and Grace’s.
Grace is… not dealing with the boredom.
Or at least, not in a way that doesn’t also distract me.
Right now, he’s twirling his glasses in one hand, trying to balance a popsicle stick on the end of his nose, and—most annoyingly—making a clicking noise with his tongue at random intervals.
Click.
The short sound wave bounces off the walls and lights up Grace's side of the lab in my perception.
Click.
Again, my attention is pulled away from my project and over to Grace. Ugh. Come on, Rocky. Focus.
...Click.
“Grace!” I admonish. That seems to startle him. He jerks and the popsicle stick falls off his nose.
“What?” he asks, clearly oblivious that he's being distracting.
“Stop it with that sound.”
He pauses before blowing out a puff of air. “Pfft, who made you the sound police?”
“I did. I am older. You listen to me, baby.”
“Wha—I’m not a baby, I’m a full-grown man!”
“Then act like it!”
Grace slumps in his stool, which does not help his case.
“I’m booored,” he all but whines. “What are you working on?”
“Is a secret,” I say. I’m not trying to be vindictive, it actually is a secret. I want to surprise him with my new suit when it's done.
“Come onnn.”
“Is a surprise,” I amend, my tone coming out shorter than intended.
He huffs and starts spinning in his stool, which has—to my fantastic luck—developed a squeak.
“Why don’t you find something to do, question?” I say, exasperated. “Write one of you papers or play game.”
“I’ve done that already,” he says. I seriously doubt that.
“Try you exercises, then. Ones with the funny poses.” Grace has recently taken up something called ‘yoga’. He claims it’s for exercise, to keep his body fit during this long trip, but it looks ridiculous.
“Hmm…” he seems to mull that over. Good, now I can finally get some work done.
Grace then slaps his knees and stands up. “Great idea, Rocky,” he says in a tone that spells trouble. Oh dear, what is he up to…
“I’ve actually been meaning to try a new pose, but I haven’t had the equipment for it,” he says, walking over toward me where I rest in my xenonite ball. “This one is called a prone back stretch.”
Grace then climbs on top of my xenonite ball, eventually settling face-first across it with his arms and legs dangling toward the floor. It’s completely supporting his weight off the ground, but he’s not super balanced so whenever he shifts his weight I get moved with him.
“Ugh, Grace!” I say, knocking over my project while I attempt to steady the ball. “You moving me! Get off.”
“I’m just doing yoga, Rocks, just like you recommended,” he says, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.
“Lie! You doing this on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he sniffs indignantly. Now, I could just roll forward to dislodge him. I’m much stronger than Grace and would have no trouble doing so, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt my friend. Humans can be so squishy and vulnerable. It's crazy how they're at the top of the food chain.
“You are so childish. Off off off!”
Seemingly determined to prove my point for me, Grace presses his mouth against the xenonite panel under his face and blows a raspberry. It makes an ugly, wet sound—and, even worse, sprays spit all over the panel!
I screech and lean as far away as possible without tipping the weight of the ball over. “Ew! Grace! That is disgusting!”
He laughs (rude!) and decides to do something infinitely worse. He licks the panel.
I screech again and lean further away, and the ball rocks back and forth precariously. That’s it! As much as I’ve come to know and love Grace, I still draw the line at spit. From his mouth. On my stuff.
If he wants to play stupid games, then stupid prizes he shall win.
I focus my attention upwards where Grace is laying, and his stomach is conveniently on top of the mesh panel of my ball. Perfect. I hope this works.
I press my hand up into the mesh and into the softness of Grace's stomach, squeezing a few times. It gives the reaction I had hoped it would; Grace jerks and lets out a surprised squawk of laughter, and the ball wobbles back and forth while he regains his balance. Ha, amazing! I'm so glad that worked—I've never tried this before.
You see, one of the earlier conversations we had during our trip was about senses. Eridians have three: touch, taste, and our main sense, sound. Humans amazingly have five: the same ones as eridians but also sight and smell. We spent a long time talking about those last two, since I literally can’t imagine what it’s like to experience those sensations.
But touch, a sense we share, sparked an interesting conversation. Since touch makes up a third of Eridian senses, Grace, the biologist that he is, had asked if we felt touch sensations like tickling. I may have panicked and said no, which is a lie. I didn’t need Grace to have that knowledge—or to know that I was particularly sensitive—even if our separate atmospheres kept us from touching normally.
I steered that conversation away from eridians and instead asked what tickling is like for humans, hoping to distract Grace. It worked. He happily explained the science and the general areas humans tend to be ticklish. Like a fool.
Encouraged by the reaction and armed with the information from that conversation, I start poking at Grace's middle with gusto.
“W-wait!” Grace says, a few helpless giggles already slipping through his words. He tries to draw his arm in to protect himself, but the movement sends the xenonite ball teetering sharply. “Don’t! I’ll f-fall!”
“Then get off,” I laugh, although I don't want him to do so anymore—not when I’m starting to have fun. All traces of my boredom are long gone.
He tries to get his forearms and knees under himself to lift his middle away from the attack, but a well-coordinated poke to either side of his bellybutton makes him let out a snort, and he loses balance and control of his limbs. His knees slide out from under him and his body slams back down on top of the ball, and back into my tickling fingers.
“Stahahp it!” he laughs, a wide smile adorning his face. He tries to lean away from my hands—an involuntary move that has drastic consequences—and lets out a hilariously high-pitched shriek when the ball rocks dangerously close to tipping him over.
Ha, for Grace being his name, he is anything but. Every squirm and jerk counteracts his attempts to stay balanced. He just can’t keep still—he’s far too ticklish. What an amazing discovery!
“DohoHON’T!” he yells when I wiggle my fingers into his side and keep them there, adding in a second hand to roughly massage at his bottom rib. That’s the final straw—it tickles way too much to focus on balance and the ball tips forward.
“AhahahAH—oof!” Grace slips and falls unceremoniously right onto his face, his upper body crumpled against the floor while his bent legs remain awkwardly suspended up in the air against the xenonite behind him. It’s such a goofy position, and once I’m sure Grace isn’t hurt by the fall, I lose it. Bright laughter bursts out of me at the ridiculous sight of him. He looks absolutely absurd—and like a massive dork.
“🎶Hahaha🎶! Grace! Are you ok?”
“Mmmph,” Grace replies, his face smushed into the floor. He does an inelegant wiggle to flop onto his side, and shimmies away from my xenonite ball until he can finally get his knees under himself.
He points an accusing finger at me.
“N-never do that again,” he says, trying to sound authoritative. However, the smile on his face and the traces of laughter in his voice undermine him entirely, revealing his true feelings: he totally had fun too.
“Don’t be annoying again. If you do, you need to sleep with one eye awake,” I counter playfully. I think that’s the human phrase…
Grace chuckles and shakes his head, rising to his feet. “It’s ‘sleep with one eye open’, Rocks.”
Mmm, whatever. Doesn’t matter, that was still really fun. I’m not used to being on this side of this type of play. Typically it’s me who has to fight off the tickly hands of my siblings or Adrian, laughing myself stupid all the while. It's refreshing to be able to dish it out finally, especially since it seems Grace is equally as sensitive as I am.
Now I’m very motivated to finish my new suit. I can’t wait to interact with Grace more closely—and have many more dumb, playful moments like this one.
———
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Hope you liked it! Also, I think its high time I write Grace some well deserved revenge, yeah? >:)
giving simon wormhole-opening powers so grace can send an instant probe once they're on erid and inflict more psychic damage on the og petrova task force
js the concept of a PHM videolog that starts out with grace and rocky happily going abt their business that then jumpcuts to ryland alone at a desk covered in blood girl im dead
Doodle for you all! Don’t worry he’s very carful, he just wants a little bite! I thinks Simon just twitches the skin with the muted teeth just enough to lightly dig in over and over and it drives Grace up a wall! Also makes raspberry’s so much worse lol
Did I make this whole comic because I wanted to fulfill the destiny of my url name? Maybe.
I like to believe that once Adrian and Grace get to know each other and get close, Rocky will be able to convince them to combine their homes, with a xenonite divider. They need to be able to hangout without someone being in a suit!
I obviously don't know anything about engineering, but let's just pretend the Gracemobile is a rough Mark I. Grace will definitely tip over and Rocky will upgrade it
My favourite Adrian headcanon is that they're a biologist/zoologist who has seen so much shit, they're completely unphased by any and every alien habit of Grace's.
I mean full-on khaki-shorts-wearing, traversing-wilderness-with-nothin'-but-a-machete Adrian who yoinks snakes outta trees and pets swamp puppies and will unflinchingly dig around in elephant faeces for signs of a rare parasitic tapeworm if needed.
Oh, humans eat socially? No problem, Adrian has observed many many animals eat. Did you know that an obscure species of small underground dirt creature from the north side of Erid also eats socially? Adrian can give you a not-so-short presentation on them.
Oh, the human has no external carapace and so its internal sounds are absurdly loud, wet and off-putting? No problem, Adrian was just conducting an expedition last month researching the incredible eridian animal, the Wet Loud Worm from the south-east region of Wet Loud Wormland. They're desensitised, it's fine.
Oh, Grace leaks often from many orifices and it can be a bit of a learning curve to get used to? No problem for Adrian, see Wet Loud Worm paragraph again!
Meanwhile, Rocky is bewildered as to how he's managed to third-wheel both of his relationships, because both Adrian and Grace are nerds who nerd out about things, and Adrian is shaking in their carapace with enthusiasm to learn more about human culture and biology, not to mention everything about earth animals. And yeah, sure, Grace might be a molecular biologist, but he'll be damned if he'll pass up an opportunity to learn about alien fauna from a fellow scientist, and yes, Adrian, he'd love to hear about the small underground dirt creature from the north side of Erid, and he's so excited to learn more about the Wet Loud Worm, do go on.
OMG IM SO FREAKING HONORED!!! Im soooo happy you like my design for him and I LOVE YOUR ART!!! It’s so cute, Simon looks adorable!! Ugh eating your art as we speak!🩷🩷🩷 (I hope you like my mer!simon designs too lol)
Mb if I’m butchering Rocky, but I’m translating from the book back to English. Also I made the gif hence the low quality because app I used told me to pay for not-garbage quality so hhhshdbsh🤺🤺🤺
Words: 2,7k
Warnings: panic attack, passing out, mention of dying + this is a tickle fic
Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky
Summary: Grace has a nightmare where he is separated from Rocky. He wakes up shaken, not sure if it was real or not and desperately looks for his friend around Hail Mary. When found, Rocky senses Grace’s emotions and helps him regulate.
Ryland’s decision was final. After a couple of agonizingly long days, he returned his ship after sending the Taumoeba samples to Earth, to reunite with his alien friend. He was nervous, but knew the purpose he came back for. As he spotted the xenonite ship floating nearby, Hail Mary hovered by it and let the beaks of both spaceships face each other as if they were communicating through a silent creaking of their structures.
The teacher put on his red suit and prepared for take off by foot. He stationed himself on the edge of the launch bay and with one switch push that took almost no strength but all his courage, Grace floated through space towards the Eridian spacecraft. As the wire securing him stretched behind, Grace felt anxiety building up in his chest.
Something felt off. Just not quite right. As the ship was nearing closer and closer, its reflection in Grace’s helmet was dim. Not that Rocky’s ship has ever been shiny and bright, but it was dimmer than he remembered.
When he finally touched down and was able to crawl to an entrance tunnel, it was sealed off with durable xenonite panel through which his small headlight shined, revealing black and brown pipeline structure that used to habitat Rocky. But he wasn’t there.
Grace called out, but made no sound. There was no sound in space. All he could hear was his own heartbeat beating in his ears, raising by every passing second. Where is Rocky? Shouldn’t he be out by now? With his incredible hearing, he would’ve already known there’s someone trying to get in. But the ship remained lifeless. He shouted again, banged on the panel, adjusted his headlight and squinted his eyes to see as far ahead of the darkness as he could.
And suddenly… he saw something at the very end of the tunnel. It was so far it looked tiny. Pointy, uneven, as if it was upside down. It looked like… a dead spider laying on its back.
Wait… the double jointed legs… no…
“Rocky?! ROCKY, Is that you?!” Grace called, now panicking as realization washed over him.
Rocky was dead.
Ryland was too late. The Edirian ship run out of fuel and the radiation got to him.
Grace’s breathing and heart rate began to spike at uncomfortable speed as if his lungs and heart were in a dangerous race with each other. His vision has gotten blurry and his body gave up on him, muscles turned to mush, air was heavy and his head momentarily overflowed with fear so strong he could comprehend nothing. He felt like drowning in the sound of his own weeping, heart pounding in his ears. As distress signal was roaring in his head, he cried desperately out for Rocky to come back-
“GHA-!”
A sharp, choked up gasp filled the room as Grace sat straight up, panting so fast his chest could barely keep up. He looked around frantically as everything around him changed. A cold sweat run down his face, hands stiff from an iron grip on the blanket that covered him. He was not on a rescue mission for Rocky, not in his astronaut suit in space. He was on Hail Mary. In bed. Safe.
But again, he was alone.
“Oh crap…” a tired half-sigh-half-whisper escaped his mouth as his face landed in his hands and he slowly rubbed it. “It was a dream. Just a terrifying stupid nightmare! Right…?” Grace looked up at all the xenonite constructions Rocky has made above his head to watch him sleep. They lacked one crucial thing however. Rocky was nowhere to be found. Normally He’d have heard him whispering in his sleep and probably come running at that point, but it was quiet.
“No… no no no no, I-I-I saved Rocky, we… we returned to… or… did we? Oh my god…” Grace wasn’t sure if he was gaslighting himself or not. Did he actually save Rocky or not and his mind kept rejecting that reality? Why does it haunt him in his dreams? It felt like someone pulled out his brain, messed up the organized puzzle that once were his memories and put it back in.
Rocky and Grace would watch each other sleep. Because Eridians are completely paralyzed and helpless while asleep, it’s a deeply ingrained cultural necessity that friends take turns guarding, so… why wasn’t he there?
“Rocky?! Rocky, where are you?!”
Within split second, Grace’s body went into panic mode again. Breathing was obstructed once more, his muscles felt like disorganized pack of jellies and his vision wouldn’t focus. He jolted out of bed, from laying down to standing at attention, frantically calling and looking out for Rocky, not knowing how to handle the wave of uncontrollable panic that was clearly overwhelming him.
“ROOOOCKY!” wow dramatic much
“Grace! Why grace so loud?!”
Grace snapped his head towards the familiar voice and through his blurred vision he finally saw movement as a xenonite ball rolled into his line of sight.
“Rock! You’re…” he wanted to ask his friend why did he leave. He opened his mouth, but no more words came out. Instead the adrenaline wore off, no longer supporting his jelly legs and standing position. Multiplied by the rapid getup from the bed, like an iron deficiency diva that he is, Grace almost fainted. He very much needed this dose of relief, but when it finally hit and his mind would stop for a second, he didn’t expect it to be the only thing keeping him upright.
He fell to the floor, just barely managing to push his arms out and stop his face from plummeting to the ground with the rest of his body. Rocky chirped anxiously, straightening up in his ball and came running to his friend.
“GRACE, GRACE! Grace okay?! Grace died!? Grace sick?” As Rocky started bombarding him with questions, the teacher was still trying to ground himself from the panic attack. He was supporting himself on the elbows, regulating his breathing, his lower half lying on his side, legs curled. He no longer doubted Rocky was here, so why wouldn’t he stop pacing? Why don’t the boxing glove in his chest stop pounding on it from inside out?
He regained just enough strength to pull himself up and hug Rocky through the xenonite. Rocky was startled a bit, but quickly caught on and hugged back in his own way. Grace’s body could finally let down guard and suddenly a wave of sadness hit him, contorting his face unwillingly and tears poured.
He did save Rocky. After a million times that Rocky saved him, deep down he knew - he always knew he did. That freaking dream tricked him, made him doubt himself…
“Grace leaking from face. Why Grace upset?”
“Why did you leave?” He sobbed, face still glued to Rocky’s orb.
“Grace say things while asleep. Rocky try to wake up Grace, but Grace won’t. Rocky was worried, so Rocky go get Armando to check on Grace.” Rocky’s arm pushed through one of the walls of his container and placed it on Grace’s back in a comforting gesture. “Why humans talk why asleep, question?”
“We dream.” Grace kept sobbing, though slowly quieting down. “I’ve had a dream, where I… you…” damn, words are hard. His closed throat wasn’t helping either as it felt like the words were barely squeezing through it.
“What’s dream, question?” Rocky asked very directly like he wasn’t just holding falling-apart-Grace. However, at the request of explanation, his eyes sparked again. He was still shaking uncontrollably, yet wanted to share his knowledge with his friend. Every time Rocky asked a question, Grace would be more than happy to tell him. It reminded him of teaching students back on Earth.
“It’s our brains way of sorting out memories and integrating them with cortex when we sleep.” he started explaining while wiping his eyes with a sleeve. Sniffs and sobs were interrupting every second so much so his diaphragm was hurting, but he tried to push through, feeling Rocky’s embrace through the xenonite container.
“There’s a part called hippocampus that orchestrates it, but sometimes we regain consciousness partly during this process and witness hippocampus’s memory-sorting as a mare. Sometimes it feels like you’re really there even if it’s just in your head. This… is why I was talking in my sleep.” Grace tried to sit up and leaned his back against the wall. As his whole trunk finally relaxed in a more natural position, breathing started to be manageable again.
“So… why Grace scared? What Grace dream?“
“Rocky, can we not… do this right now? I’m still… not quite all there yet.”
“What Grace need? Rocky help.” Grace did not reply. He tilted his head back, so it could rest against the wall too, closed his eyes and kept breathing short, shallow huffs and puffs. Rocky stopped asking questions as he remembered from one of many Ryland’s rambles that humans tend to get overwhelmed with too much information or questions at once. In silence, he carefully approached Grace, emerging halfway through his ball and lying his center in his lap, careful to not pull his whole weight on it.
After a couple of minutes, Grace finally started to come back from the panic room. Rocky noticed early when his heartbeat slowed down and chirped happily upon hearing it.
“Thank you, buddy.” Grace put his hand on Rocky’s body, sticking out of the container, patting him gently with gratitude.
“Rocky happy Grace better. Now Grace tell Rocky about bad dreams, question?” Grace smiled in his heart and shook his head at how smoothly Rocky rerouted the conversation back to it. At least now he could speak without choking on his own breath.
“Not all dreams are scary. Hippocampus filters both good and bad memories and sometimes mixes them. It’s really a coin flip which moment you’ll get. When it’s a scary one, it’s called a nightmare.”
“Grace had nightmare, question?”
“Yes… I… I thought you died, Rocky.” Grace winced at the haunting image of Rocky as an upside down spider crossed his mind.
“I had a nightmare from when your ship was failing. I was so worried I was too late and that I messed up…” before Ryland managed to break down into tears again, Rocky cut in, which he almost never does.
“Rocky not died, statement. Grace did not mess up. Grace save Rocky.” He said with such calmness and cuteness that Grace’s heart overflowed with warmth in an instant. He teared up at those words. Rocky was too pure for this conversation.
“I know, bud. I’m sorry, it felt… too real.” Grace held back a whimper. A short pause on both sides occurred.
…
“Dream stupid, statement.”
“No, Rock, it’s fine, I- it’s my fault-I’m just a bit shaken-“
“Dream makes Grace sad. Dream make Grace think Rocky dead! I don’t like.” Rocky exclaimed as if it was the biggest insult he has ever heard. He might have also been frustrated that no matter what they did, Grace’s face kept leaking, but at least he wasn’t panicking anymore.
“It’s nightmares that are bad. And of course I know you’re not dead, I- I- just- hehehey now!” Grace tried to explain, but fumbled as he felt Rocky climbing on top of him with his full weight now and malicious intent. He slid off the wall and tried to crawl backwards to his bedroom, but he was already immobilized. It was like someone parked a car on top of him. He was not going anywhere.
“Rocky not believe. Grace stressing over stupid dreams!”
“Buddy, I’m- I'm fihihine.” Grace giggled in anticipation as Rocky’s hands extended from the xenonite container and his claws opened, wiggling slightly in the air. Grace knew where this was going and a dumbfounded smile slit his face.
“Rocky hear Grace heart and breathing. Grace still scared and sad. Rocky help!”
“Nohoho- Rocky, DOHOHON’T-“ before Grace could protest, he felt Rocky’s hands land on each side of his ribcage and vibrate violently. He immediately fell on his back, bringing his arms closer to his chest and started laughing loudly. Not giggling - straight up laughing from the belly. Rocky awed melodiously as Grace's warm laughter filled the room.
"Nightmares bad - tickles good!" Rocky teased and Grace cursed in his mind that he had ever taught his alien friend about the concept of tickling. Honestly he could've predicted that it would backfire at some point.
"Wahait- WAHAHAHAIT! Rohohocky, nohoho! I'm betteheheher- I swehehehear!" he squealed, frantically pushing at Rocky's ball pressing him into the floor as his claws moved to the sides of his abdomen. Grace’s body jolted, but xenonite held him in place. The inability to curl up or even shift sideways made the tickles ten times better worse.
"Great, Grace recovering! Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!"
"Rohohock, you're nohohot helpihihihing!"
"Rocky IS helping! Grace happy again! Why Grace so stubborn?" Rocky squished all around his belly sides and lower ribs. It was very sensitive area for Grace, but also like a melt spot. He loved when Rocky did that even though he couldn’t take it.
"Thahat's NOT hohohow you treat ahaha person afteheheHEHER they hahad a p-pahahanic attack!- *squeal* NO, NOHOHO GET AHAHAHAWAY FROHOHOM THEHEHHEHERE!” Grace practically screamed, when Rocky’s third arm snaked up and started squeezing the pudge of his lower belly, landing one claw in the navel and wiggling there stubbornly. Rocky completely ignored Grace’s plea and just kept making high frequency happy noises, very pleased with reactions he was causing.
“ROHOCKY PLEHEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T MOHOHOHOVE!” Grace begged through his loud laughter. He trashed his head from side to side, his body wiggled helplessly under Rocky as he couldn’t get an inch away from this unbearable feeling. His legs kicked aimlessly and he was slamming his hands on Rocky’s ball, which caused the alien to flinch at how loud it echoed inside. But it didn’t stop him from tickling.
“Ouch! My hearing perception! Grace no slap Rocky’s container. It’s very loud.”
“I’M SAHAHAHAHARRY! STOHOHOP TIHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!” Grace burst out shaking his head, a frantic mix of squeals and laughter pouring out of him, much to Rocky’s amusement. That man was the cutest (and only) human Rocky has ever seen. But he noticed his friend getting tired and decided to resolve the situation with an ultimatum.
“Will Grace stop having nightmares?”
“I CAHAHAHAN’T CONTROHOHOL IT!”
“Then Grace will find Rocky and not panic stupidly?”
“YEHEHEHEHES IHIHI WIHIHILL, ROHOHOCK, STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEASE!” Grace begged through his now slightly hoarse voice, not entirely sure what he just agreed to.
Rocky finally let up. The second he let go of his waist and rolled off to the floor, Grace flopped on his side and curled up into a ball, leftover giggles still escaping his lips. The reassurance and encouragement before the tickling were enough to make him calm down, but with how touched starved Grace was (we’re social creatures after all), in the end he didn’t mind at all.
“Youhuhu are the little tihihickle monster, you know that?” said Grace, still panting and smiling like an idiot.
“Apology.” Rocky moved closer and hugged Grace still curled up on the floor, who flinched at the contact of Rocky’s claws with his side again.
“No mohohore! Rocky-“
“Grace no afraid, Rocky will tickle no more (today). Grace recover from nightmare?”
“Yes, never been better, pal.” He said, rolling his eyes as Rocky just gave him a reality check disguised as tickling the life out of him that he, in fact, is not dead.
“Grace remember this and don’t be stupid.” Rocky moved his center (where his face would be if he had one) in front of teacher’s face and placed his stretched claw on top of his head, which made Grace feel a bit like an immobilized cat grabbed by the nape.
“Grace saved Rocky, now Grace safe, Rocky make sure of that.” Grace just shook his head and embraced Rocky. He finally let his guard down completely and let his body relax here on the ground.
“I know, pal. I know.”
Whatever was left of panic still inside of him, has evaporated with all the laughter Rocky caused. Was it that it was actually quite enjoyable to laugh freely in the arms of a friend?
He patted Rocky through the container and smiled at his very much needed words of great encouragement. He knew he saved him deep down - they saved each other. It was possible he could have failed, but he didn’t.
No dumb nightmare was going to change this awesome reality.
Fandom: Project Hail Mary x Iron Lung (Bloodymary)
Word Count: 2542
Lee!Grace, Ler!Simon
Summary: Grace is being a little shit and won't go to sleep, so Simon tries to make a deal using a game that Grace taught him.
AN: Originally put in a request for a fic with this premise... But I don't think it's being used, so I'm doing it myself :3
“Simon Simon Simon!”
Simon immediately looked away from the screen of the projection room, alert instantly. He scrambled to his feet, already in front of Rocky’s xenonite ball.
“What?? What happened??”
“Calm! Simon dramatic.”
Simon huffed softly. “Well you sounded panicked. You can’t do that and expect me to not freak out a little bit.”
“Dramatic,” Rocky repeated.
Simon dragged his hand—his real one—down his face, his words muffled slightly. “Okay, what’s the matter?” he asked through a sigh.
“Grace being stupid. Grumpy. Angry. Mostly stupid.”
“Are you just wanting to insult him or is there a real problem here?”
“Not sleep! Stupid because no sleep! Rocky no can convince. Simon Grace mate, so Simon convince!” Rocky explained.
“Is he ever gonna learn to go to s— Wait. Mate? Rocky, he— He’s not my mate.”
“Mate. Simon Grace in denial.”
“I’m gonna mute your translator.”
“Again. Dramatic. Go get Grace sleep!”
“Fine. Just— drop the mate shit, okay? We’re just friends,” Simon tried again.
“Denial!” Rocky said as he scurried away.
Simon sighed. It’d taken a while for Simon and Grace’s interactions to not be awkward anymore, even longer for them to actually become friends. He didn’t want Rocky to ruin that with all his ‘mate’ talk. It’s not like he hadn’t… considered it before. But there were far too many risks there. If anything went wrong… Well, they were stuck on a small ship with a blunt alien who wouldn’t make things any easier.
Sure, he caught Grace staring sometimes, but that was just because he was a scientist. Of course Simon was interesting to him with all his… mutations. And the times he sought out Simon to talk or hang out was just because they were friends, and Grace hadn’t had any human contact in who-knows-how-long. The times Grace comforted and held Simon after his nightmares? That was just Grace being Grace. He wouldn’t just let someone suffer without trying to comfort them.
So yeah. It was too risky to consider something that was so likely to go wrong.
He headed to the lab, where Grace was hunched over a microscope. Even with the discovery of… whatever it was that killed and threatened stars (Astro something?) and its predator (some kind of amoeba), they still fascinated Grace to an extreme amount. He was constantly studying it, and it was cute how invested he was.
Wait. Cute? No, not cute. Just… Never mind.
“Rocky’s on my ass about getting you to bed. When was the last time you slept?” Simon asked, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the table.
“Uh… It hasn’t been too long,” Grace answered. He looked up from the microscope, meeting Simon’s eyes with a smile. The smile he always gave when he talked with Simon, the one he loved to see.
Simon raised a brow, giving him a look that screamed ‘Really?’.
Grace cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, fine. …About three days?”
“Uh— Three days?? We went to bed at the same time the past two nights. The fuck did you do, wait till I fell asleep then snuck out?”
Grace gave his own look, one that very sheepishly said ‘Maybe?’.
Simon huffed through his nose softly, shaking his head. “Alright, c’mon,” he said as he walked by Grace and grabbed his arm to pull him away.
“Si! I’m close to another breakthrough!” Grace nearly whined.
“You always say that.”
Grace pulled his arm out of Simon’s grip. “I’m fine, I’m a fully grown adult—”
“Okay, then act like one and go to sleep at a decent fuckin’ time, and maybe I wouldn’t have to drag your ass to bed every night.” Even as he berated him, concern laced his voice through the growl in his voice.
“Simon, really. I’ll live.” Grace sat down in his chair, taking his glasses off and hooking them onto his shirt.
“Simon says.”
Grace snickered, “Simon, that’s not how it works.”
Ever since Grace had told Simon about the game ‘Simon Says’ from back on Earth… Yeah, Simon abused it often. How could he not? There was a whole game centered around doing what he said!
“Simon says it is.”
“Well, Grace says it isn’t. And Grace also says that he gets more time to study the Taumoeba.”
“It’s not called ‘Grace Says’. And the tow-moeba will be there in the morning.”
“Taumoeba. I’m not going to sleep yet,” he said as he turned around in his chair.
“...I’ll make you a deal.”
That got Grace’s attention, and after a moment, he swiveled right back around. “I’m listening.”
“I’m liking this Simon Says thing—”
“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”
“Shut up. It’s funny. So… We’ll keep it nice and simple. We’ll play a round. You win, I’ll let you work till you drop. You lose, and you go to bed. Deal?”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? What’s the catch?”
Simon could barely keep the smirk off of his face as he held up his hands. “No catch. I swear.”
“...Okay. Deal.”
“Perfect.”
In all honesty, this probably wasn’t the best idea on Simon’s part. He knew the basic premise of the game, of course. But he’d only learned it a few days ago. He didn’t know if there were specific strategies or ways to throw Grace off. Meanwhile, Grace had several years of playing this game. …Maybe? He didn’t actually know how often people played it. Was it just children? Or was it a sport? Either way, his point still stood; Grace was much more familiar with this game than Simon was, so logically, this wasn’t the best idea.
However… Simon was, unbeknownst to Grace, giving himself an advantage.
“Simon says… Stand up.”
Grace stood up, his hands in his pockets. “You’re gonna make me humiliate myself.” It wasn’t even a question.
A small smirk crept onto Simon’s face. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t not say it.”
Simon shrugged slightly. “Raise your right hand.”
Grace didn’t move a muscle.
“Simon says… Do a handstand.” The idea was random, but he had to give Grace the illusion of this being normal.
“A handstand?? Simon, do you want me to die??”
Simon just shrugged again with a smug grin. “I mean, you can always just give up so we can go to bed…”
Grace gave him a dead-pan look. But he placed his glasses on the table and stretched out his arms, hyping himself up. Simon was doing his best not to laugh, though he was truthfully ready to catch or steady Grace… just in case.
Grace raised his hands and flipped into a handstand, actually managing to stick it for a few seconds. His shirt fell down to his shoulders, and Simon’s eyes widened slightly. He forced himself to look away from any exposed skin—he wasn’t a creep. He cleared his throat, ignoring the sudden warmth on his face. But then Grace began tilting forward slightly, trying to walk on his hands to keep himself upright.
“Shit!” Simon stepped forward and grabbed Grace’s legs. He chuckled as he helped get Grace’s feet back down on the ground and grabbed his arm to hoist him up. “Didn’t even last four seconds.”
“Shut up, that wasn’t voluntary!” Grace shoved Simon paired with laughter of his own.
“Woah, Simon never said to shove!”
“That’s not how it works!”
“Fine, fine. …Simon says lay down.” Finally his plan was going into action.
“Uh… weird, but okay.” Grace laid down on the ground with his hands folded over his stomach.
Simon’s laughter had faded, his smirk returning and taking over. “Simon says put your arms above your head.”
Grace seemed confused, but reluctantly followed directions.
“Now, Simon says keep ‘em up there.”
“This better not be what I think it is. …Simon, do not!” Giggles already began spilling from Grace’s lips just from Simon taking a knee next to him.
“What?? I haven’t even dohohohone anything!” Simon chuckled.
“Yet!”
“Hey, you can always just put your arms down so we can go to bed.” Simon grinned as he straddled Grace’s hips. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was damn proud of himself for this idea.
“...You suck.”
“What was that?” he asked, reaching out to run his nails up and down Grace’s side. He let out a squeak and tried to curl his body away without moving his arms, burying his face into his right one.
“Sihihihihimon! This isn’t— fahahahahahahair!”
“Seems pretty fair to me. You agreed to play.”
“You sahHAHAID— thahahahat thehehehere WAHAHAhahsn’t a cahahahahahahatch!!”
“Yeah… I lied,” Simon said without even a hint of shame in his voice. How could he feel bad when Grace just looked so damn cute?
“Yohohohohou SOHOHOhohon of a bihihiscuihihihihit!!”
“Language, Angel,” Simon chuckled, knowing damn well he was being a hypocrite.
“You— Yohohohohou say thehehehehe f-wohohohohord— EHEHEHEHEVERY HOHOHOHOHOUR!” Grace squealed and arched his back as Simon buried his very bearded face into Grace’s tummy and blew a raspberry right below his belly button. Grace was holding onto his blond hair, tugging it in his attempt to keep his arms up.
“Don’t rip your hair out,” Simon chuckled as he sat back up.
“Dohohon’t— act like ihihihihihit’s not yohohohohohour fault!” Grace retorted through residual giggles.
“My fault? You’re the one who agreed to play the game. And right now, Simon says keep your arms up. Simon also says… don’t laugh.”
“What!? Si—” Grace shut his mouth immediately when Simon began drawing slow, torturous circles in the scientist’s armpits. Simon watched as Grace buried his face into the side of his arm in an attempt to muffle any giggles.
“Remember what happens if you lose,” Simon teased with a smile, laughing when Grace squealed behind closed lips because he was now tickling along the blond’s neck. He could feel Grace’s feet pounding against the ground underneath him, which did nothing in his favor.
When one hand scratched behind his ear with the other one scratching at his tummy, he finally dropped his arms and started trying to push Simon off. “OKAHAHAHAHAY o— ohKAHAHAHAHAHAY! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE UHUHUHUHUP— SIHIHIHIHMohohoHOHON!!”
“I dunno… I think I gotta make sure you’re fully tuckered out.” Simon grinned, reaching back and squeezing up and down Grace’s thighs. Grace squealed once more, grabbing onto Simon’s legs while his own thrashed and kicked.
“Geez, Ryland, nearly kicked me!”
“IHIHIHIHIHIHI’M— sohohoHOHOHORRYHYHYHYHY!!”
“Nope, that’s a punishable offense. And you, Sir Savior… have been sentenced to more raspberries,” he said gravely, as though he’d just condemned Grace to death. He began slowly, oh-so-slowly, leaning downwards.
“NO! No no no Sihihihihihi— we can talk ahahahahabout— THIHIHIHIHISAHAHAHA SIHIHIHIMOHOHOHON—!”
Simon’s face was currently buried into the side of Grace’s neck, his own face a bit hot from the proximity.
C’mon, Butcher, get a grip. You’re just tickling him, get your mind out of the gutter.
If Grace had the same thoughts, he was far too preoccupied with the raspberries Simon was blowing over and over again. The side of his neck, the back of his ear, his shoulders, his collarbone, making sure to use his beard to contribute. Grace was shrieking and laughing, back arching as he held onto Simon’s shoulders.
Simon gave him a final raspberry on the inside of Grace’s collarbone before finally pulling away slightly—the sight made him melt. Grace’s hair and shirt were disheveled, his face red and his eyes closed as he took in air through residual giggles.
“You okay, Angel?” Simon asked, his voice softer.
“Y— Yeheheheah…” Grace giggled, opening his eyes to look up at Simon. …Which was when Simon realized he was probably a little too close. They gazed at each other in flustered shock before Simon cleared his throat and sat up fully.
“Good. That’s— Good. C’mon, it’s time to get you in bed.” Simon stood up, crossing his arms as he smiled fondly down at Grace.
“Nooooo…” Grace rubbed his face, yawning.
Simon chuckled. “Seems like the tickling did a good job of tiring you out, huh?”
“Shut up.”
The brunet extended a xenonite hand to help Grace up, who took it gratefully. Simon hauled him up, and wow, did Grace look exhausted. He looked dead on his feet.
“...Alright,” Simon muttered to himself before scooping Grace up in a bridal carry.
“Woah—!” Grace exclaimed, holding onto Simon’s shoulders. “Simon, I can walk.”
“Yeah, but you looked about two seconds away from face planting, so I’m saving you from a broken nose and a pissed off Rocky.” He stayed put for another second in case Grace actually wanted down… but instead of protesting, he just closed his eyes and hesitantly rested his head on Simon’s shoulder.
Was that… no, no. That blush was just residual from the tickling. It had to be. Simon’s, however? …What blush? There’s no blush. None.
Simon walked to the sleeping quarters, admittedly struggling a bit with getting down the ladder while holding Grace. But he could feel the blond dozing off, and he’d be damned if he made him get up.
After a bit of struggling (and nearly slipping a few times), Simon made it down. He laid Grace down in his bed, smiling softly and pulling the blanket over him. He gave his friend one last longing look before turning to leave. But Grace’s voice made him stop in his tracks.
“Si?”
Simon whipped around. “Yeah?”
“...Can… you stay?” he asked, his words a bit slurred from sleepiness and his eyes only halfway open.
“...Huh?” Did he hear him right?
“One of the reasons I haven’t been sleeping… is because I’ve been getting nightmares.”
Simon’s brows furrowed. He knew all too well about nightmares. “About what?”
“...The beetles. That they… never made it back to Earth. I— I keep seeing my friends…”
Simon sighed softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Fuckin’ idiot,” he said affectionately.
“I didn’t wanna worry you.” Grace yawned.
“You’re not worrying me, dumbass.” Simon hesitated before gently carding his fingers through Grace’s hair.
Grace leaned into it, sighing softly.
“I’m sure the beetles made it back. Hell, you sent four of ‘em. What’re the chances that they all didn’t make it? Don’t answer that question,” Simon said when he saw Grace start to open his mouth. “It’s not your responsibility anymore, Ry. You did your part. You did all you needed to do, and you were fuckin’ awesome while doing it. Okay?”
A soft grumble in response.
“Okay?” Simon repeated, moving to lightly scratch behind Grace’s ear.
Grace snorted softly, giggling and curling up. “Okahahahahay, okay!”
Simon snickered softly and retracted his hand. “But, to answer your question… Yeah. I’ll stay with you.” He crawled in bed with Grace, giving him as much space as he could. But when Grace cuddled up with him, oh, all willpower shattered. How could he not cuddle back?
Grace exhaled softly, face nuzzled the slightest bit into Simon’s chest. “...Night, Si…”
Simon smiled. Maybe it was because of the shock that wow Grace wants this too, maybe it was the fact that Grace had been getting nightmares, maybe it was because Simon was tired as well… But he softly placed a kiss to the top of Grace’s head, really hoping he wouldn’t regret it later.
“Goodnight, Angel.”
For the first time in a week, Grace slept nightmare-free.
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