Based off of a game I used to play with my classmates as a kid. Where we would casually just tickle each other!? Crazy work
Anyways enjoy!
——————————————
Simon had little to no fond childhood memories. Grace knew this but he was just now understanding the gravity of it all.
Simon had hardly any happy memories and Grace somehow felt guilty whenever he shared some fun story from his youth.
Made him feel like he was robbing Simon of that experience.
Simon sat on the ground below Grace who was sitting on the bench
Graces hands affectionately playing with his hair. Making small braids and twisting strands into spirals while he told one of his favorite stories.
“I think I must have gone 5 miles on that little bike. I’m surprised the tires held up for the ride home.”Grace laughed.
Simon laughed. a short laugh but a real one
Grace looked down at Simon below him. He peered over at the man sitting cross cross Apple sauce.
cute.. he thought.
Little things like this that reminded him they were both human. No matter how different they were and how far away they began.
Simon was still just a regular guy. Deserving of happiness and joy.
That’s why it pained Ryland so much that Simon was deprived of most childhood whimsy.
Simon turned to look up at Grace.
“No way that happened.” He said with a huge grin.
“Grace saw the childlike wonder in his eyes and felt like crying.
The only stories Simon had to share were horrible. He tried to make light of them but they never seemed to brighten the room.
“Yes it did. I felt like the king of the world.”
Grace sighed into his smile. Looked down at Simon who was facing front again. Still cross crossed.
Simon slumped down to rest his face on his hands.
Grace looked down. Seeing Simon’s back suddenly pushed more memories into him. Reminding him of summer camp in elementary school.
Grace moved his hands from Simon hair down to his upper back.
He began to trace circles around Simon’s shoulder blades.
“Circle circle, dot dot, X marks the spot.”
Grace punctuated each word with a trace of his finger or a poke to Simon’s back.
“Ah- hey what ya doing?”
Grace laughed.
“It’s a fun little game we used to play at my summer camp.”
“What?”
“It’s called the chillsies.”
“A game?”
“Yea! Can I show you?”
“Uhm sure.”
Simon relaxed his tensed muscles and assumed his previous position.
“Okay. Circle… circle… dot ..dot.. “
Simon flinched at the pokes he received.
“X marks the spot.”
Grace traced his finger from the top of Simon’s back down to his side by his waist. Then again in the opposite direction in order to draw an X shape.”
Simon’s spine stretched and straightened out.
“Geez you’re ticklish huh?”
“I guess.”
“Well hang on I’m not done.”
“Crack an egg on your head let the yolk drip down.”
Simon flinched as Grace mimicked egg dripping down him with his fingers. Dragging his fingertips from his head down to his lower back.
“Criss Cross applesauce”
A swirly circle drawn on Simon’s back.
“Cool breeze”
Grace blew a breath of air in the crook of Simon’s neck and up towards his ear.
Simon flinched
“Tight squeeze.”
Grace pinched Simon’s waist twice.
“Agh!-“
“Now you’ve got the chillsies!”
Grace shamelessly scribbled his fingers all across Simon’s back and sides.
“Awhhaahah cmohonnn!”
Simon let out heart chuckles and adorable giggles while Grace tickled him.
“HAH! PFFTT-“
He pried at Graces wiggling hands and attempted to push Grace off of him.
When that didn’t work he slumped down into the floor and rolled away from graces reach.
“Iheheheh ahhah.” Simon giggled clutching his core.
A giant smile stuck on graces face.
“Wow Si I’ve never heard that laugh from you.
“What kind of sick joke is that!?”
Simon questioned through his giggles
“We did that all the time when I was a kid.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! There’s tons more I can show you!”
“Oh no I’m not doing any more of that.”
“No Si not all of them are gonna tickle.”
Grace laughed
“Look here’s another I can teach you.”
—————————————————————-
Grace taught Simon tons of games from his childhood. Rhymes, handshakes, tricks,
Mrs Mary Mack, patty cake, Avocado,
They got into playing concentration
(If you don’t know it’s basically naming stuff in a category without messing up)
“Okay one more round.”
“Simon I’ve won the past three.”
“I’ve gotta win at least once.”
Simon looked down determined to win letting his competitive side show.
They resumed the game and Grace mayyyyy have purposely messed up to help Simon out.
“Yeah! I win haha you lose.”
Simon playfully shoved Grace. The playful shove however sent Grace tumbling off the bench they had been sitting on.
Simon peered over the edge to look at Grace lying on the ground.
“Pfffttt imm so sohohorrry.”
“Yeah you don’t look sorry.”
“I am I am I swear.”
Grace couldn’t be mad. Simon was smiling more today than he had ever seen. He didn’t want to ruin this mood.
Simon reached a hand out as an offer to help pull him up.
Grace had a better idea.
Grabbing the outstretched hand he pulled and hard as he could sending Simon plummeting down to the ground beside him.
“OUUUGF!”
Simon slammed into the carpet face first.
“Gahhh.”
Grace cackled at the success of his trick.
“Oh I hate you.” Simon mumbled
“No you don’t hate me.”
“I sure do.”
“Nope you don’t.”
Simon pulled himself upright and looked down a beat at Grace.
“Yes I do.”
“You dont really hate me I’ll prove it.”
Grace announced
Grace situated himself sitting in front of Simon. Criss crossed.
Grace put his hands out between them forming a wall.
“Open the gate.” Grace instructed
Confused, Simon separated graces hands he figured was the “gate”
“Now who do you hate?”
“you.”
“Now that’s your date”😌
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard Ryland.”
“No, I’ve got one even stupider.” Grace laughed
“Go ahead.”
Grace assumed the same position with his hands out in front of him creating a gate.
“Open the gate.”
Simon complied
Grace then put his pointer fingers together at the fingertips.
“Slice the pickle.”
Again confused Simon used his hand to karate chop the “pickle” in half.
“Tickle tickle.!!”
Grace wasted no time reaching through to tickle Simon’s stomach.
“AH ahaHAH.”
“Got you again!” Grace called out.
“Quit it! Simon yelped.”
Grace laughed just as hard as Simon as he prodded and scribbled his stomach.
“You and your stupid rhymes.. GOD DAMMIT!”
“Watch your mouth.”
“FUUHUCK YOU!”
“What? Does it tickle?”
“Yes wtf? AHAHAHHAhe”
Simons arm flailed desperately to try and push graces away but in the most of it all Grace took the high ground and climbed onto Simon’s legs to hold him down.
Summary: Three years into the journey back to Erid, Rocky has become familiar with all the things that once made Grace seem strange: his hands, his face, his habits, his emotions—and most of all, his laughter.
When Grace starts spiraling over his dwindling food supply, Rocky decides it is his duty as best friend and crewmate to cheer him up by any means necessary. What begins as laughter-provoking antics slowly turns into something deeper: a quiet reflection on joy, survival, and the strange ways two species can feel connected across the stars.
Words: 4445
Dynamics: Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky
A/N: This was supposed to be a short writing exercise on how to describe laughter, but then it somehow led me to introspecting about the universe, as one does lol.
———
I don’t completely remember what was running through my mind when my ship’s cameras and the petrovascope spotted another ship in the Tau Ceti system. A ship that, by the looks of it, was alien-made. My thoughts were probably something along the lines of ‘holyshitholyshitholy–’ and ‘oh thank fuck I’m not alone anymore’.
Thinking back, it probably wasn’t wise to just assume they’d be friendly, and I didn't even consider what they would look like. I was too focused on communicating and connecting our ships so we could meet.
All of which is to say, I was totally unprepared when we were right in front of each other, and I couldn’t help the scream that came out of me. Grace looked like nothing I had ever seen or could ever imagine. He was so tall, standing upright on his two limbs while only having two others instead of three. And his whole body was covered with flesh while the harder material was inside. It’s like if you turned an Eridian inside out.
Don’t even get me started on his strange habits as well. Using the same orifice to talk and eat? Ugh.
He was freaky. Well… the keyword being was. Things are different now.
His fleshy hands aren’t strange anymore–they’re the hands that fly the Hail Mary, do complex calculations and big science, and make chains (many many chains).
Hands that bred taumoeba. Hands that pulled me back to safety.
And his body isn’t strange anymore either. It’s just his body, that does crazy dangerous EVAs, that has a beating heart that proves he’s alive, that shows love through a hug or friendly pat. His face and his mouth are now just his identity. A window to his emotions: a smile to show joy, eyes that tear up when sad.
Now, when I look at Grace and all the things that make him different from me, freaky is the word furthest from my mind. The only words I have now are… that's my best friend. Three years into our return trip to Erid, all the aspects that make up Grace have become familiar to me.
Most familiar of all is his laughter.
Ironic, considering how little of it I heard during our mission. There wasn’t much time for joking around, both hyper-focused on saving our species. But now, time is all we have.
Between keeping ourselves busy and entertained, and learning more about each other, the opportunity to hear all the different ways Grace laughs has been plentiful. I think I have each one memorized.
His chuckles are little more than a deep rumble in his chest, a sound almost meant for only himself. Soft, fond, and relaxed, they usually appear when he's recalling a time one of his students said something clever, or when he thinks I’ve said something funny accidentally.
When he does manage to let slip some giggles, they sound fluttery, bubbling out of him in a continuous stream before boiling over into full laughter. I think most of the time they happen because he's trying not to laugh, as he’ll often duck his head or cover his mouth to stifle them. Maybe he's embarrassed—they’re much more high-pitched than his normal speaking voice, but I always find them adorable. They're reminiscent of the flute-like voices of eridian infants.
It’s particularly funny when Grace is surprised into amusement. He lets out sharp barks of laughter, sometimes accompanied by a quick clap of his hands or slapping his knee. It’s like he's so suddenly taken by hilarity it needs more outlets.
It’s even more funny when Grace snorts. It happens rarely, and only when he's caught completely off guard, surprised into laughter that’s so deep and hearty it comes out his nose. I think it’s hilarious, not just the sound but because Grace gets so embarrassed by it—apparently even in human culture it’s a silly sound.
Perhaps the most rewarding is when Grace finds something really funny, like a joke I made (on purpose), or our silly banter, or even a dumb scene from one of his movies. His laughter comes from his stomach, loud and boisterous, and it makes his eyes water and squeeze shut, nose scrunching too. Sometimes it overcomes him so much that he has to hold onto something to keep upright, or wrap his arms around his abdomen. It’s like for a moment he feels completely safe and unrestrained, forgetting about the Hail Mary, the beetles, and the dwindling food. Instead there’s only happiness in its purest form—and it's one of my favorite laughs of his.
But not my all-time favorite.
My all-time favorite is the one he's making now, when I have him pinned to the floor of the ship, one claw digging into his middle and another two scribbling under his arms. The laughter that’s pouring out of him can only be described as cackles—loud, wild things interrupted by startled screeches and utterly beyond his control.
“ROCKY! S-STOP IT!” he shrieks. I don’t have his arms pinned, so he's torn between trying to wrench my claws out from under them and slapping at any part of my xenonite suit-covered carapace he can reach.
“Mmm,” I trill in mock contemplation. “No. I don’t think you’ve had enough penance yet.”
His head thunks against the floor in defeat. “Ngh–aHAH!” he tries to reply but he’s laughing too hard to get any words out. I am curious what he has to say though, so I move my hands from his armpits and instead trace around what he calls a ‘belly button.’ It still tickles him a lot, but less so he can actually get words out.
The smile on his face is stretched so wide that it shows all of his teeth. He takes in a shuddered breath and chokes out between his giggles, “P-penance for what?!”
“You were moping. No moping allowed on the Hail Mary.”
“Wha—but it’s MY ship!” he tries to protest but more giggles interrupt his speech. “Ehehe—I can m-mope if I want to!”
I let out a chittery laugh at that. He can be so whiny.
“Nope. Not allowed,” I reiterate. I use my fingers to skitter up and down his sides, making sure to tweak his bottom ribs whenever I reach them. It makes Grace arch his back and then flop back down with a cackle each time.
In truth, this isn’t made to be an actual ‘punishment’. I mean, Grace was moping, that part's true. Just before I wrestled him to the floor he was looking over the Hail Mary’s food storage, doing some calculations with his face pulled into a frown and muttering to himself. Based on his calculations, the last few months of our trip will be difficult for him. Grace is worried.
But I hate to hear him like that, and there’s nothing more we can do about the food anyway. So naturally, it’s my job as his crewmate/best friend to take his mind off it, cheer him up a bit. And if tickling him to pieces is the quickest way to accomplish that, well, then you really can’t blame me.
It also gives me the opportunity to hear his loudest, silliest laughs, the kind he only does when he's forced to let go of his worries and submit to this playful stupidity. As an added bonus, all that laughter sends sound waves bouncing off my carapace, giving me the clearest image of Grace yet. Hey, I gotta get something out of this too, ok?
Grace is shoving at me with both hands now, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in laughter. He's not strong enough to push me away even if he wasn’t laughing himself out of oxygen.
“Gah! G-get offa me, doofus!” he manages between desperate gasps for air, each one collapsing back into laughter.
I hum a high, amused note, and pull back on the tickling a bit. I still use one hand though to poke randomly around his stomach, enough to keep him twitching.
“Have you laughed all of your mopes out yet?” I ask teasingly.
Grace drags in deep breaths now that he has the chance, but each one has a leftover giggle or two tacked onto the end. He flops an arm over his chest and I feel him sag into the floor.
“Ugh…” he wheezes. “You’re… the worst…”
I dig sharply into his sides. “Answer the question.”
He yelps and his hands fly down to grab mine. “Ah! L-let me think, dang it!”
A few beats pass before Grace comes to a verdict. He crosses his arms, and schools his face into one of defiance—or at least he tries to. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that gives him away.
“I think there’s one still rattling around in there,” he says, and oh, if I know a challenge when I hear one…
“Is that so?” I reply. I grab his wrists and start to slowly raise them over his head. That cracks his defiant facade immediately, his eyes widening and a helpless smile spreading across his face. He starts tugging fruitlessly at my hold, and I think it’s that moment he realizes the situation he put himself in.
“Wait wait wait! Rocky no! H-hold on!” he splutters. The second his arms are firmly over his head and there to stay, frantic, high-pitched giggles begin bubbling out.
Mhmm, I quite enjoy this part. Grace is absolutely terrible with anticipation, a fact I love to take full advantage of. With one of my arms pinning Grace's wrists, it leaves my other two open to hover threateningly over his underarms and upper ribs.
“Don’t worry,” I say, my voice laced with sticky sweetness. “I’ll help you.”
I feel Grace's whole body try to flinch away, but I’ve got a strong grip on him as well as some of my weight pinning his hips down where I sit on top of him.
“J-just hold on a second!” he cries, his eyes unable to look away from my wiggly, xenonite-covered fingers. Laughter is on the edge of each of his words.
Slowly, I lower my wiggling fingers closer to his body. As I do, Grace's giddy, nervous giggling gets louder and more frantic, and his squirming increases tenfold. When I reach just the edge of his clothes and brush them gently—not even technically touching him—Grace bursts out into loud, belly laughter.
“No no NO!” he screeches, and his legs kick out helplessly behind me. “S-stahahp it!!”
I pull my hands away, and Grace goes back to desperate, sputtering giggles. Hah, I can’t help but laugh along with him, his reactions are over the top and hilarious.
“Wow,” I say around my own chirpy laughter. “You are so fucking ticklish, Grace.”
I hear the blood rush to his face at that, and he tries to hide it in his arm. It’s a very subtle sound, one I only know to listen for because Grace explained that humans' faces flush when embarrassed.
‘Definitely sold yourself out there, friend,’ I think to myself.
“You’re the most ticklish human ever, aren’t you?” I continue to tease. Grace lets out a growly whine that trails off into more desperate giggling. He tries clenching his teeth together, but it does nothing to stop the embarrassing sounds, instead making his laughter come out in a hissy sort of way around his teeth and the wide grin he's wearing. He starts shaking his head helplessly, already accepting his demise.
Alright, time to stop teasing and get to the real deal. I drop both my hands to scribble his underarms and massage at his top rib. The reaction is explosive; Grace cracks into laughter so loud that he's absolutely glowing in my perception, every detail of his face and the playful torture he’s experiencing crystal clear to me. He even makes enough sound waves to illuminate every small detail of the room in my vision without my need to tap a claw or click a sound.
“No—! R-rock—! Gah-ahAHAHA!” is all he can manage between his hysterical laughter before he peters out into silence. I can tell he's still laughing though—his whole chest is shaking and I can feel his stomach muscles convulsing beneath me where I have him pinned. His mouth is stretched into a wide grin and he takes in a breath here and there too, but no audible laughter follows it. Just his feet slapping the ground occasionally behind me.
I really enjoy this type of laughter too. It’s not my favorite, but more so I just feel real smug anytime I manage to drive him crazy enough to laugh himself fresh out of sound. He even has a few tears leaking out of his eyes, and those are rewarding too. I’d much rather he leak from overwhelming mirth and laughter than from sadness and pain.
But the tears also signal that Grace is at his limit. I pull my hands away from his tickle spots and instead rub soothingly at his sternum, chasing away the last of the tingly feelings.
Grace does his best to melt into the floor as the lingering titters fade away. He wraps one arm around his middle and rests the other one on top of my arm that’s rubbing his chest while he catches his breath.
“Ohoho man…” he breathes. “I’m sohoho gonna get you b-back.”
I hum a note. “Can’t. I’m not ticklish. Not like you,” I tease. That’s totally a lie, but not one Grace is strong enough to disprove, an advantage of our anatomical differences.
We sit for a moment while he recovers until he finally props himself up on his elbows.
“You know, one of these days I’m gonna have Mary toss you out the airlock. See how well you can tickle me from the vacuum of space,” he says with a grin.
My hand stills on his chest, and I tilt my carapace. “You’d toss your best friend into space?” I ask, playing along.
“Oh, definitely,” he nods. He picks up the tool I use to weave xenonite that’s resting on the floor. I don’t use it much now, since I used almost the last of my xenonite stores to make my dexterous suit. (That probably wasn’t wise to do, but it’s worth it to be able to come into Grace's atmosphere completely and interact in this silly way.)
It also means that the tool, which I had brought to Grace's side to show him, has been sitting on the floor for a few weeks. Grace waggles the tool in front of me. “Place would be a whole lot cleaner without you leaving your stuff everywhere, don’t you think?” he teases, and draws his knee in to knock against my carapace.
Well then. Seems the moping is gone and replaced with sass. Not quite what I was going for.
I sing a low, jokingly offended note.
“I see. Well, before you do that, there’s one spot I’ve never tried before. We should fix that, in the name of scientific discovery of course.” I slide off his middle and move down towards his socked feet, grabbing hold of just one ankle.
Grace begins smiling immediately, and tries to tug his leg back. He's not using his full strength to do so, and combined with his smile I know he doesn’t actually mind this at all. We’ve never talked about it out loud, but I know we both think this silly, stupid kind of play is really fun.
“Wait, wait! Maybe we can compromise,” he says, voice wobbly with the beginnings of laughter. “I don’t have to toss you out, just your stuff—AH!”
He's cut off by me taking off his sock and swiping my fingers up and down the bottom of his foot. I was serious when I said I’ve never tried tickling here, and I regret that now because this is a really sensitive spot. Grace drops my xenonite weaver and falls onto his back again, laughter renewed. He's still trying to tug his leg away while the rest of his body is free to squirm now that I’m not on top of him anymore.
I only tickle him for a few seconds before stopping, given I already put him through the wringer before. When I stop, Grace throws an arm over his face while some lingering hiccupy laughs fade away. I’ve still got a hold of his ankle, though, and this time poke his largest toe.
“Are these ticklish too?” I ask, genuinely curious. It’s already surprising he'd be ticklish in this area, since he literally walks on them every day. Humans are fascinating like that.
Grace huffs a residual laugh and says “Maybe,” which I take as ‘Definitely yes.’
“Why are these ticklish but the ones on your hands aren’t?”
He shrugs and looks down his body at me. “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly. “Might be evolution-based. You need your toes to walk, but you can live without fingers, so maybe it’s the body’s way of making you protect those more.”
He pauses before adding, “I actually knew a guy once who’s missing six fingers—wha—?! H-hey!” He gets cut off by more giggles as I attempt to scribble at his toes.
“I was talking!” he laughs. “Rude! Nahahah—ouch! Hey, careful!”
I rip my hands away. “Sorry sorry sorry! Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, you just pinched me a bit. Your fingers are a lot bigger than human ones.” That’s true. It makes tickling this delicate area difficult. I wonder…
I re-grip his ankle and slip my xenonite weaver over the suit-clad fingers on my other hand. The weaver is almost like a second skeleton, with braces hugging my forearm and hand. Delicate articulated prongs extend beyond each fingertip, tapering to points far finer than my own fingers could ever be so I can weave small strands of xenonite. With the tool powered down, however, they’re nothing more than slender metal finger extensions.
Using a second hand, I grip his big toe and pull it back, stretching his foot and other toes, then hover my third hand wearing the tool over them. Grace understands immediately what I’m about to do because his eyes widen and his mouth opens to protest, but he’s too late.
I dance the tips of the thin prongs at the base of his toes and in between them too, for good measure. This was a fantastic idea. Grace begins shrieking and yanking at his foot harder than ever before. It’s no use though, I have an iron-clad grip on him.
“Holy—argh nohoho!” he practically screams. “T-thahat’s terrible!!”
I chirp giggles along with him and decide to try something hopefully worse, scraping the prongs up and down the bottom of his foot in addition to his toes to see what happens.
“FUCK!” Grace yells before being consumed by more screechy laughter. His whole body does a funny sort of roll, and his free foot starts kicking at me with surprising strength. It’s not enough to stop me, but it does actually make me stumble a bit.
I burst into laughter and it mingles in the room with his. Wow, this really makes him lose his mind if it gets him to actually curse. I’ll definitely be doing this again sometime—this is fun.
Grace practically wails my name, the last note of it soaring to an impressive pitch. It’s time to stop. I don’t want to actually ruin the playful moment we’re having. I pull all my hands away and sit next to Grace, giving him the space to roll onto his side and pull his knees to his chest, catching his breath.
“I ha-hate you…” he huffs weakly into his knees. Mmm, liar.
Eventually his breathing slows and he uncurls himself. I move to sit beside his head with my legs tucked underneath my carapace. He always calls that position “loafing,” and when he cracks an eye open to glance at me, he huffs out a few chuckles.
Feeling a sudden surge of fondness, and perhaps a tad bit of guilt, I use the weaver to stroke through Grace’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He hums a contented note and goes boneless under the touch, eyes slipping closed again.
“You done torturing me?” he asks sleepily.
I hum a note myself, amused. “For today.”
Grace smiles softly at that, eyes still closed. My amusement melts into something gentler. “Are you feeling better?” I ask, softer now. Sincere.
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Yeah…” he says, a smile still on his face. I sense some tension pulling at his brows, though.
“It will be ok, Grace. We’ll work out a solution when we get to Erid. I promise.”
He nods. “I know.”
We fall into a comfortable, companionable silence and stay like that for a while. Grace’s breathing returns to a slow and steady rhythm as I continue to brush the prongs through his hair, lost in my own thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?” Grace asks softly. He looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep.
I brush his bangs back and soothe them down. His hair is getting quite long. I like it, it makes it even more soft and fluffy. “I’m thinking about our theory.”
“Which one? Panspermia?”
“Mhm.”
It’s something we talked about early on in our mission, when we discovered that the planet Adrian did indeed have life. A lot of life, actually, in the form of bacteria, amoebas, and other single-celled organisms. What are the chances of Earth, Erid, and Adrian all evolving life separately from one another? Life that uses the same basic machinery: DNA, ATP, familiar cellular structures, and, in some organisms, even mitochondria?
To me, it seems low. Possible, maybe. But low. Our three star systems are not that far apart, really. Yes, Earth and Erid are sixteen light-years apart, with Adrian somewhere between us, but that is close compared to the vastness of the galaxy. The Milky Way galaxy spans about 100,000 light-years. We’re practically roommates, if you consider the observable universe and its trillions of galaxies.
That’s where our theory comes in. Panspermia is the idea that life didn't just start all on its own on our planets. It came from somewhere else. Where? Who knows, but the theory is that billions of years ago some ancient life form “seeded” Earth, Erid, and Adrian with life by way of a comet/asteroid, or something. Then life did what it does: evolved over billions of years into different forms that seem completely different from each other, but share many similarities if you look small enough. Humans, Eridians, and astrophage. We may have done billions of years of evolution separately, but the point is that if you go far enough back on each of our branches, we’re joined by one common but ancient ancestor.
We’re cousins. Very very very distant cousins, but family all the same. Or that’s what I like to believe. We don’t have real proof of this theory, but it makes me feel closer to humanity—closer to Grace. And it’s interesting to think about in these quiet moments of companionable space travel.
“I used to think you were as different from me as two things can be,” I say.
Grace smiles. “Oh? Was it the leaky space blob-ness?”
I chuckle out a chord. “That was definitely part of it. But now…”
“Now space feels a whole lot smaller, and we feel a whole lot closer,” he finishes for me.
“Yeah.”
He reaches up over his head and brushes his fingers against mine on the hand not combing through his hair, just absentminded touches. He likes to fidget while he thinks, and enjoys being close too.
“Isn’t it fascinating how both our species evolved to have laughter? I mean, that can't be a coincidence,” he says. It’s like he read my mind. That’s what I was about to bring up next.
“It would be a huge coincidence, yes,” I say. “I think it's further evidence for our theory. That we’re connected.”
It’s not definitive proof in the slightest, barely a correlation. But I choose to believe it is. The universe can be terribly ugly, but there’s also so much beauty in it, so why couldn’t this one beautiful thing be true too? That the sounds of joy prove we’re connected, even light-years apart?
“Laughter connects the universe…” Grace says wistfully, his smile growing. “That’s a nice thought. I like it.”
I like it too. I feel a deep warmth wash over me, a sense of happiness and belonging—and I’m still light-years from home.
“I’m happy I evolved to meet you, Grace,” I say. “I’ve never had a friend like you before. Someone who understands me in ways I can’t explain, because I don't need to with you.”
“And I’m so grateful I get to hear your laughter,” I add.
I hear that subtle rush again—Grace’s face flushing with shyness—and it makes me chuckle. I can’t see the color, but I trace a finger over what I know is his reddened cheek, just to let him know I’m aware of what’s happening.
Grace shoos my hand away playfully and huffs, embarrassed.
“You're such a sap,” he says. “But… I’m happy I evolved to meet you too. I’m happy we get to laugh together.”
———
We made it to Erid, and it’s good to be home.
The last few months of our trip—and the first stretch of time on the ground too—were indeed difficult for Grace. His coma slurry and taumoeba shakes were enough to keep him alive while we figured out a solution. But just barely.
Every day he slept more. His cheeks hollowed further. He smiled less. I stayed by his side through it all, diligently watching as he slept, thinking of the days where we talked about the universe and filled our ship with laughter.
Those were dark times. But I’m so grateful they're behind us.
Now, two years after we made it home, the scene looks quite different: My beloved Adrian and I are in Grace's biodome. It's stocked with plenty of nourishing food for him. His stomach is soft, his ribs no longer sharp beneath his skin, and his cheeks are rounded. He’s going to start teaching soon, and it’s the most excitement I’ve seen in him for a while. My Adrian says one of their dry, witty jokes, and Grace has to hold onto me to keep from falling over in laughter.
It’s a beautiful sound, and I hold it close to my hearts. I am so grateful I get to hear it again, and I know I'll hear it for years to come.
———
A/N: there we go! Hope you guys enjoyed! Here are a few questions that I'm curious what your guys answers are:
What do you think of Panspermia? It’s a real theory, that life on earth started because a life-containing asteroid crashed here. And if it happened to earth… perhaps it has happened elsewhere.
What other completely normal human things do you think Rocky would find fascinating/horrifying?
Do we like the Rocky pov? Would we mind another one bc I have a short one in mind, same dynamics but I swear I have plans to switch that up 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 from side to side. 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.
I adore your fics and your art and I'm eating your Simon design and hcs HUEHUE X3
Very scrumptious I love when you post, keep it up! :D 🫂
Awww thank you so much!!! I’m obsessed with him!! I don’t even know why I made that character sheet anyway I didn’t really follow the style I used anyway lmao here is some more ticklish Simon for you, I hope you all enjoy <33
𖥔 This one is just silly and cute! I just wanted to write some more Simon and Rocky friendship stuff! I struggled so incredibly bad with this one! I feel like I just couldn't quite get Simons inner world to actually sound correct and I still don't think its the best but if i keep messing with it ill go insane lol but I hope you all still like it! ALSO hoping to make a really quick masterlist soon! 𖥔
𖥔 Slight spoilers for movie and book! 𖥔
Summary: Rocky and Simon have gotten physically close over the past year and Grace definitely doesn't feel left out.
Ler!Rocky / Ler!Simon / Lee!Grace
Word count: 4,908
“Oh, you're going down!”
“Rocky like to see Simon try!”
Rocky’s high-pitched cackling rings out as I chase him down the corridor, through ‘The Don’t Go Crazy Room.' He veers into the lab, his claws clanging against the floor.
I jump forward, tackling him to the ground as we roll across the floor with momentum. I hear Grace yelp at the sudden noise and commotion, turning to look at us. We scramble in a heap, pushing, pulling, and hitting each other.
I grab an arm and he lets me pin it to the floor as I push at his carapace. Suddenly two claws are hugging my middle and he flips me hard onto my stomach.
“Simon not win! Rocky too strong!” The alien smugly says from above me. He smashes a claw into my face, pushing and squishing my cheek.
I hear Grace laugh at my expense in the background…but it's different. He laughs differently when he's actually amused. Normally it's loud and bright. Today it's quieter, like he's trying not to interrupt us. I don't know why I noticed that.
“Not fair! You have more arms!” I argue as I push my legs underneath myself, straining against his weight.
“Not Rocky fault human design poor.” He lets up, allowing me to try to turn the tables, as adrenaline-filled giggles spill from me. “Simon should not have ‘missed place’ other arm either.” There’s a teasiness to his chords.
“I did NOT fucking ‘misplace’ my other arm, you-oversized-paperweight!" Excitement comes from him in response. He thinks he soooo funny.
I grab a claw, lacing our digits together, and push against his arm. I try to plant my knees, but he easily slides me across the floor just by walking into me.
My smile grows, baring my sharp canines at Rocky, letting out a playful growl from my chest. He returns the noise, mimicking it with a low rumbling sound, making me feel a little silly. This all makes me feel silly. But in a good way.
"Oh, you're gonna get it for that!” It’s supposed to sound at least a little threatening, but the stupid smile stuck on my face and the way my hair is a mess and sticking out every which way make it seem anything but.
I rip my arm away from his and pull back. He raises three of his, following defensively. I find an opening and strike at his carapace with force. He freezes and dramatically falls to the floor, clawing at the air like he’s clawing at heaven above.
“Ow. Simon got Rocky. Dead.” He flops over, legs going rigid, letting out little fake pained trills. I cover my smile, snickering at his acting skills. He can be so silly sometimes.
I give Grace a brief glance, but he’s stopped laughing and is just staring. I force myself to pull my eyes away.
I dramatically collapse into Rocky. “Ugh, I think you got me too, Rock. Drawl?” I offer but his arms immediately curl around my middle and squeeze.
“Rocky lie! Rocky win!” He shouts, flipping me over on my stomach again, pinning me down.
“Ah-shit! No fair!” I laugh, reaching back to grab him, but he just settles on my back, sitting on top and sprawling his legs out while carefully avoiding my wagging tail. He settles on his new seat with a satisfying hum.
“Simon very hyper today.” My cheeks go a little red at the comment as I succumb to Rocky’s weight. I lay, catching my breath, enjoying the cold floor of the ship on my face. I feel two claws start to rub at my upper back and shoulders, making me melt further into the cool surface.
"Well, I’m clearly not the only one.” I argue with a grin. We’ve been going at it for a good thirty minutes now and I’m not going to complain.
I flip my head over and look at Grace again. He seems to notice and forces a smile back onto his face.
“I would join but you guys would break me.” He lets out a low chuckle. It's true. After whatever the hell happened with me physically, I seem to have gotten a bit stronger. Unusually stronger, and I seem to have gotten a bit…tougher? Hits that would have normally hurt don't as much. This is what allows me and Rocky to play so rough.
“Yes. Grace squishy.” Rocky adds and starts rubbing a claw through my hair as well, smoothing it back into place. I smirk at what Rocky said, but Grace’s smile seems to falter.
“I want a rematch," I huff, squirming from underneath Rocky.
“Oh. Simon want to loose again, question?” That cocky little alien! “Rocky give Simon…five human second head start.” He crawls off of me and helps me up. I swerve on my heels, not wasting any of my head start.
Rocky lets me run. He started doing that awhile ago. At first I thought he was getting slower, maybe from the strain of space. Turns out he was giving me a head start. I never asked him to. I don't think he needed me to. He just knew I loved that part. Makes me feel light and airy, like I’m not stuck on a ship barreling through space.
I sprint to the dormitory, Rocky hot on my heels. I feel the air pushing through my light shirt and into my gills, filling my burning chest. My head feels scrambled but elated and my limbs are loose. It feels so nice. So different than what I used to feel.
“Human so slow! Need more legs!” He calls after me, making giddy anticipation flow through me.
"I'll let our human manufacturer know!” I remark back. Who knew wrestling with a rock would be so fun. Who knew wrestling in general could be fun, actually?
It seemed so scary. The first time Rocky pinned me, I thought I was going to die. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was worried Rocky wouldn’t stop. That if it got to be too much, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. But when I frantically called out, he stilled and held me softly. Now I don't even think about it. Funny how that happens.
I make it into the room and spin to stare at Rocky, trapped with only one exit. My eyes frantically looking from him to the door.
“Simon in corner. Make Rocky victory easy!”
“Oh yeah? Don’t get too ahead of yourself! I’m gonna throw you out the airlock!" He lets out pitchy laughter.
“Yes! Affectionate threat!” He laughs, not the polite trills he gives everyone else. It's a loud squeaky noise. The one that vibrates through him and into me. I didn't think he could sound like that when we first met. Turns out he can, usually because of me. He trills as I frown a bit at the failed threat. He slowly stalks toward me, claws raised. We rotate around each other, stupid giggles coming from both of us.
I hear the door open and see Grace slip into the room with a laptop. I raise a brow. Rocky seems to have stilled at his sudden appearance as well. He settles in the bed and starts typing something, oddly quiet.
Hm.
I turn back to Rocky, running at him while he’s distracted. He jumps with a squeak and catches me in his arms, claws tightly gripping me.
“Simon! Carful! Simon balance not good!” He pulls me forward into his carapace. “Carless.”
"Well, I knew you would catch me.” He doesn’t deny it. Annoyed grumbles come from him as he, gently this time, throws me back to the floor.
Gentle coos from Rocky make me look up at him. “Simon very cute when like this.” A claw comes up to trace around my face and squish at my cheek again. He brushes my hair out of my eyes, making a soft sound of amusement. I feel my face get warm at the compliment and grumble, my chest heaving in and out as I try and catch my breath.
I lie for a moment and notice how Grace is no longer typing. He is just looking off at us again. Nothing new seems to have been added to the screen of the laptop since I glanced over last, only to start back up again frantically.
“Simon looking at Grace a lot.” And to prove him right, I quickly look between Grace and Rocky to make sure he didn't hear him.
“Am not." I feel my face warm even more.
“Looking a lot, statement.”
“Shut up.” I grumble as I scramble back to my feet and try to book it to the now unblocked exit. Rocky quickly and frantically grabs one of my legs, trying to keep me here with him, and I slip.
“OW—!!!” I fall face first, hard, like very hard, into the wall of the Hail Mary, bouncing off right back onto the floor. “Ugh…fuck…” My hand shoots to my face, checking to see if I broke my nose.
A rather loud, alarmed noise comes from Rocky and he scrambles to my head, grabbing my face again. He turns it to face up at him, another small squeak coming from him; I'm assuming it's at the damage.
“Ah apology apology! Was accident!” He pulls me up and I feel my nose start to bleed. The warm liquid starts flowing down my face, the familiar taste of iron on my lips. I don't think it's broken; the pain isn't all that awful either but I have a feeling I'll have a killer headache in a few hours.
“One day, you guys are going to put a hole in the ship.” Grace retorts with a small smile from the bed, but Rocky seems to entirely ignore him. I see him frown and slouch when no response comes.
He anxiously pets at my head and even pinches off my nose for me as I let out a laugh, squeezing my eyes shut. He really must be sorry; it's not often he willingly touches our leaky human fluids on purpose.
“Not funny! Simon hurt!” He taps his leg against the floor for emphasis, but I just laugh even more. I peek my eyes open and see that three of his claws are busy holding me, so he has to balance on the other two.
Feeling rather playful still, probably from all the adrenaline from being chased and then almost knocking myself out, I bring my legs up and push him out with my feet as hard as I can. The move manages to make him stumble back and I scramble to my feet, talking off once again.
I hear Rocky anxiously call after me, “Simon! Stop running! Hurt! No play!” But I just continue to giggle, making my way back to the lab. I bring my hand up to my nose, trying to stop bleeding all over the ship as I run, but my god, it’s hard to run with one arm when that arm is occupied with something else.
I feel my balance tilt, almost tripping over my feet and falling again as Rocky lets out a startled whistle in response.
“Simon will hurt himself again! Stop running now!” He might have been right about my balance after all.
He corners me again, but I can tell he really is trying to block my exit this time. I shift from right to left, but he just moves closer.
“Simon…not playing.” He scolds, his vents hissing.
“I’m fine.” He angrily taps a claw against the floor.
“Not fine. Leaking important fluid.” He slowly advances. “No escape.”
“Very ominous.” I lower myself a little, trying to take back some space but Rocky holds his position. Another grin comes across my face and I hear Rocky let out an annoyed hum in response.
“Simon too hyper.” Mean…but fair.
But once again, Grace comes into the room. He looks awkward as we both freeze to look at him again. He opens some random cabinet, bringing his hand up to his chin as if thinking hard about what he’s looking for. Then he closes it, taking nothing. He lingers with our attention on him. Why is he still here? He clearly didn't find what he was looking for.
“Glad you guys are having fun.” I see his ears flush as he mutters an apology for interrupting. His ears always go red before the rest of his face. He settles at one of the tables in the lab, shuffling through random papers. There’s a small frown on his face and his eyebrows are knitted together. I’m surprised he didn’t go back to the dorm. He never brought the laptop back here with him.
Suddenly I’m tossed on my back to the floor again with a yelp.
“Simon stay.” Rocky says firmly. I smile at him again and a frustrated chirp rings out. “Rocky mean it.” He presses a claw into my chest, pushing hard. I wheeze as he forces the air out of my lungs.
“Okay okay. I’ll stay.” He huffs and skitters off but stops wearily for a moment to see if I’ll take off again before actually leaving.
I find Grace's eyes again, but he looks away once more. A frown fights its way into my happy features at his odd behavior.
My attention turns to Rocky as he returns holding some towels. He helps me sit up and places a towel on my face and starts scrubbing softly.
“Thank you.” I sigh, and he pulls my head closer to him. He traces around my face with another claw, rubbing my forehead where it slammed against the wall. He’s so gentle. It’s weird to be treated so delicately after everything I’ve gone through.
“Apology.” He pushes into my beard and mustache, cleaning away the thick red liquid that stains the hair there.
“It’s okay, Rock. It was an accident.” I’m a little worried this one-off accident will stop our little fights in the future. I don’t know what I’ll do if he insists on this. It’s the most fun I’ve had in years.
“I guess you won again.” I reach up and glide a hand over his carapace. He pulls away from my face for a moment. I run my hand along his plates, along the cracks of his body. His vents flutter with a whistle.
“Simon can not hurt Rocky.” He purrs into my hand, enjoying the attention. He caught me.
“I know. Just a habit.” Just to make sure.
I look to Grace, who is staring again and he quickly looks away, fumbling with something on the lab table. Every time Rocky touches me, he looks and then immediately finds something incredibly interesting somewhere else. Once again, a frown crosses his features, but he doesn’t look angry. I quirk an eyebrow up at him as he tries to sneak a glance back at me. He stands up quickly and speed-walks out of the room.
Weird.
“Why Grace unhappy, question?” Rocky asks. “Sound sad.” He pushes my face towards the sky, wiping down my chin and neck.
“He isn’t.” I squint in Rocky's direction, tilting my head down just for Rocky to push it back up again with a hum. I feel the blood in my nose start to run down the back of my throat.
“Grace watch us.”
“He always watches us.” I cringe and swallow at the feeling, tasting the liquid in my throat.
“No. Different watching. Not normal.” He trills. His carapace cocks to the side, vents shifting.
“…”
I sit, thinking back to his weird actions. The little comments he’s made over this hour of playing. I have a theory.
“Yeah. Maybe he is. A little.”
“Why, question?” His trills are low and full of worry.
“I think he may be a little jealous, Rock.” I smile while looking back down; it’s a little endearing. And a little childish.
“Of what, question?”
“I think about how we can roughhouse together. Be close physically in ways he can’t…and he just has to sit there and watch.” I feel a pang of sadness thinking about how we unknowingly were leaving him out. It's something I should have noticed before.
He pushes the towel back to my face as more blood seems to dribble from my nose.
“Rocky Simon should include Grace in play. Need Grace happy.” I immediately picture Rocky throwing Grace down to the floor or through a wall and grimace. Rocky's and my idea of pretend wrestling is similar, but to Grace it was probably different. Gentle and light. I would be scared to hold such a delicate being like Grace the way I do with Rocky. So scared to break him.
“I need him happy too.” I mumble into the towel.
The thought of Grace feeling left out on his own ship worms deeper into my brain. I go quiet, pulling at a few locks of hair and shifting them between my fingers in thought.
“I have another idea, Rock.” It comes out nasally and I close my eyes again, leaning into Rocky’s touch.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.
Rocky and I are fooling around again. Nothing like the play fighting a few days ago, just wrestling in one spot. Pushing and pulling against each other while on one of the beds. Rocky works as an outlet for all the cooped-up energy flowing through me and I appreciate every second of it. Although I was in prison, and being stuck in a confined space is not new to me in the slightest, my new situation (or maybe my mutations) seems to have flipped some sort of switch in me. I get in these moods where I just can't sit still and I gotta move.
A moment later Grace walks into the dormitory. We both turn toward him, and Grace freezes.
"Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were in here.” I see his eyes look over us, analyzing how Rocky has his claw in mine, pushing me against the mattress. The smile on my face and disheveled hair and clothes. Once again his face falls.
I frown and Rocky lets me up. I slide off the bed and stand, staring him down. Rocky shifts his carapace in Grace's direction, letting out a low rumble.
“W-what?” an anxious smile makes its way to his face. His glasses slip down his nose. He looks nervous, his hands suddenly fidgeting together. We stand in silence for a moment. I catch his eyes and stare deep into them.
“What Grace fastest running speed, question?” Amusement laces Rocky’s chords and Grace raises a brow, his worried smile falling ever so slightly.
“...why?” He takes a step back as Rocky climbs off the bed as well.
“No reason!~” I growl in response, Rocky and I creeping toward him. My tail flicks lightly as the anticipation builds between the three of us.
Everyone goes still for a moment. Silence settles around us. I see the gears turn in his head while a giddy smile makes its way to his face.
Grace makes the first move, fleeing as fast as he can. He climbs the ladder with shocking speed and sprints down the other way to the ship. I quickly follow, but the ladder slows me down. I’m kinda happy about that; the chase is one of the best parts in my opinion.
“Friend Grace! Come back!” Rocky chirps as we run after him, who is now anxiously giggling. Loud thumps echo through the ship as we make it to the lab.
Me and Rocky have him cornered. Grace turns as his back presses against the wall, hands held up and open defensively. His face is warped between a worried and playful expression.
“W-wait! Guys—!” I close the distance and he lets out a squeak as I hoist him over my shoulder. He's surprisingly light, which only makes me think back to how breakable he is compared to me and Rocky. He squirms and kicks at me, already pleading frantically. God, he's so dramatic.
"I've captured the captain, Rock.” I smile as his squirming picks up more. I feel as he pulls at my shirt, clawing at my back.
“Good, good, good.”
I bring him over to Rocky and gently place him on the floor. Rocky immediately grabs his arms and pulls them over his head as I settle on his waist. Grace looks scared, more than I thought he would.
“C-comon guys! Two on one isn't fair! A-and I’m not as strong—your gonna hurt—“
“Grace too fragile for wrestling, statement." Rocky trills out snickers and I watch Grace's face turn a little red. It hurts a little to think he would believe we would actually do something to hurt him.
“Hey!” he squeaks out. “I’m not ‘fragile’!”
“Grace space blob.”
“ROCKY.” The hue of his cheeks seems to deepen.
"It's true," I agree, nodding my head. “Very blob-like. You barely have a structure…" I punctuate my sentence with a soft squeeze to the pudge on his stomach, making him squeak. “I mean, one hit from me or Rocky and you'd explode."
“I-im not that weak, okay. You're gravely exaggerating my dexterity!” I see as he pulls at his arms. “You have mutant strength; that's not fair! You'd be a blob like me without it!” I huff out a laugh in response.
“Oh yeah?” His eyes flick to mine, and he nods his head nervously. I furrow my brows at him and watch a hint of smugness make its way to his face in the form of a tiny grin.
“One safe combat option remaining.” Rocky says as Grace tries to throw me off. I place my fingers in his outstretched hollow, and he goes still. Anxious eyes find mine as a wobbly smile comes to his face. He starts to desperately squirm and twist before I even start.
“Noho. Simon. Rohocky...” He tries to sound stern but fails miserably. His cheeks are red and his eyes are frantically looking around my face.
I flutter my fingers and a small squeak comes from him. He twists his face into his arm and bites his lip.
"Oh, playing hard to get, Angel?” I scratch at the fabric harder and hear his laughter sputter from his mouth. He frantically shakes his head, his glasses askew on his face. “Common, laugh for us. This is what you wanted, right?” I smirk, seeing my teasing make his face blush even more.
NOHOhoho! I-I nehever shahid—AH!!” I pull his sleeve up over his shoulder and run my nails over his bare skin. His body arches up as he pulls desperately. Rocky shifts himself closer, placing one of his claws in the other underarm, clawing softly.
“WAHAHIT! ROHohcky AHA—DOHOHON’T—!!” His hair becomes disheveled as he jerks back and forth.
“Grace wanted to play.” I see him get more flustered at Rocky's comment. I slide down to his highest rib and dig in. He squeals out a plea while his legs frantically kick behind me. I feel around the bone, pushing my fingertips in between the spaces and vibrating before slowly dragging my nails back up to his hallows.
“EEEAHAHAhaha!! Nohoho I-I dihiHIDN’T *SNRK*—!!!" Squeaky laughter comes from him. He kicks out, pushing his feet into the floor, pushing himself into Rocky more.
“Don’t lie, Grace. You're too obvious.” I let my fingers go still, and I see Rocky do the same. “You looked left out.” All those frowns he had on his face flash into my mind.
"N-no, I dihidn't," he breathes, catching his breath while looking away, a wobbly smile on his face.
“You watched us wrestle for close to an hour.” I take my finger and slowly draw circles into the outstretched skin of his armpit, making his body shiver and jump. “Following us room to room to watch.” I grumble accusingly.
“NO! Nohoho—AH!” I see the blush across his cheeks leak down to his neck at being called out.
“Rock, take over for me, will you?” I slowly drag my nails down over his ribs, feeling each bump of his bones, until I make it to his side. I give a few squeezes as I watch Rocky place another claw in his other underarm, replacing mine. Goosebumps race across his skin at the light touch and he squeaks.
“ROHOHCKY! DON’TDONOnon’t tahahake o-OVER—STOHOHOP—!!” His head falls back against Rocky's carapace as he cackles, squeezing his eyes shut. His laughter makes me feel warm and I can't look away.
“Yes. Grace sad. Want to play with Rocky Simon. Cheer Grace up with play!” Rocky happily chirps out, speeding up his tickling. He shakes his head in response, wiggling underneath us.
“Ya know, you could have just asked. We would have involved you.” I make my way to his hip and squeeze into the bone, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. I smile as I see the blush deepen the tips of his ears and his eyes go wide. “You moped around, pouting the whole time when you could have just asked.”
“NAHAHAT THERERE—EEHIHIAHAhaha *snrk* NO—!!” I rub circles into the bone, his hips bucking up. “SIHIMOHOHON—!!!”
I reach behind myself, squeezing down his thigh, each pinch earning me a squeal with more laughter. I finally make my way to his knee and I latch on. I squeeze rapidly at the joint, his legs frantically kicking. Small tears wet his lashes as we continue.
“Grace embarrass about play, question?” I slow my touches and so does Rocky. Grace's chest heaves up and down. I lean forward and grab his glasses that have all but fallen off at this point.
“Nohot embarrassed…and I…I dohon’t pout…” He huffs out and I raise a brow at him. So he's a liar now.
"That's what you got from this conversation?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Also yes, you do.” I smirk, reaching down to run a finger along the edge of his lips. "You're literally pouting right now.” He frowns, his blush deepening. I didn't know ones face could get that shade.
I reach down and grab at his stomach. He jerks hard and squeals. I lighten my touch to lightly trace my nails against the skin there.
"Ahahahehe *snrk* wahait!" He sucks in his stomach, light giggles coming from him. Back and forth I sweep my fingers from side to side, slowly watching the skin twitch and Grace squirm.
“So why not ask?” I still move my fingers but keep them pressed into his flesh. He bites his lip, giggles coming to a stop.
He sits in silence for a moment, like he's carefully picking his words.
“I just…didn't want to intrude on your guys' relationship and stuff. It's nice that you guys have something separate from me.” He looks away, a sad look coming to his face. "It's a good thing." He tries to reassure us, but the way he looks away lets me know how he really feels.
"It's not like I could participate anyway.”
I roll my eyes with an annoyed groan. God, he can be so weird with this stuff. It's not like we've known each other for close to a year now, stuck on the same ship together. He's known Rocky for even longer! I don't know why—I can't understand why he wouldn't just come and ask. He's the one who's always been open with his feelings.
I look back over to him, frowning. He meets my gaze with a worried look. Worried about me being upset.
"Rocky, let’m go," I sigh and Rocky does. I pat the floor next to me and he scuttles up, facing Grace beside me. Grace curls up a little but ultimately sits up to face us, though he looks like he'd rather be doing anything else.
I grab his hand in mine and squeeze. “You can't just not tell us stuff like this, especially if it makes you upset. We could have been more gentle. We could've—can check in on you more when we wrestle. Make sure you're okay, not hurt.” His eyes avoid us, and his hand is tense in mine.
“Y-you shouldnt have to do that, it's ok—”
“I get it.” I cut him off and his eyes flick to me. “I feel the need for close intimacy. I'm clingy. You know this, I know this, and Rocky definitely knows this.” Rocky lets out an amused trill and I smile. “But guess what? I had to ask you and Rocky to do that stuff. It made me sad that we didn't, so I asked like you taught me…and that's what we need you to do too.”
“Understand, question?” Rocky reaches out and grabs his other hand while placing a claw on my leg.
“Yes. Okay. I understand.” The tone he uses makes me think otherwise.
“Ryland, we're going to be on this ship for a long time together. You're good at this.” I try to give the best reassuring smile.
“At what?”
“Keeping us moving. Keeping me moving.” I mumble, looking away. “I don't know how to explain it." He waits patiently, eyes wide.
“I think…” I take my hand from his and rub the back of my neck, "...things are easier when you're around. Being yourself and happy.”
Silence.
"Grace heartbeat quick—”
“YES. Thank you, Rocky." He squeezes his eyes shut and looks away too, his ears red again. They do that a lot.
“Now,” I start shifting to stand. “I think we're going to give you a…five-second head start.” I smile as his eyes go wide.
𖥔 Guys I just love putting them in the most physically affectionate situations ever, literally the only reason Simon eats shit is so I could write Rocky taking care of him and them being cute and adroable 𖥔
Summary: After discussing the problem of Grace’s fine-motor skills once starvation settles deep into his body on the way to Erid, Rocky has an idea to fix it and keep Grace comfortable and safe. Testing this idea leads to hijinks.
Warnings: Spoilers for Project Hail Mary, mentions of starvation and scarring but nothing too major, they’re both a little traumatized it’s alright, this is a tickle fic so if that’s not your thing don’t read🙂↕️
Author’s note: guys this fic is like two weeks in the making and I had a frickin blast writing it!!! I love them so much I’m shaking them in my teeth they’re the platonic soulmates ever
At first it came from a quiet day of parallel work. Both Grace and Rocky had been in the lab, the former doing calculations on how best to ration his meals for the trip to Erid, and the latter tinkering with some unknown Xenonite contraption. Then Rocky stopped his tinkering altogether. Which was a surprise, considering that even deep in thought he always seemed to be doing something with his claws. With five of them, Eridians were very good at multitasking.
“If Grace experience muscle weakness and fine motor skill failure from malnutrition on way to Erid, Grace no work Hail Mary when reach orbit and space elevator. Confirm, question?” He asked when he finally spoke.
Grace stopped what he was doing and chewed the tip of his pen. It had only been a few months since Grace had rescued Rocky from the Blip-A floating dead in space, they had a long, long time before they had to really start worrying about that, but Rocky had a great point.
“Uhh…shoot, yeah. You’re right.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching his spine with a few satisfying pops and looking up at the stark white ceiling. “I mean, we could probably reprogram the Hail Mary and mess around with her navigation to do it sort of on autopilot, but that might be a bit risky-”
“Rocky do it!”
Grace looked over at his friend. Rocky was on his feet now, tapping away with his two front claws as he always did when he was going through calculations in his head.
“Rocky I appreciate the thought, but you can’t pilot the Hail Mary from a ball. And the controls would fail in your atmosphere.”
“Rocky no need ball, I make suit. Suit from Xenonite mesh like panel on ball! Small small small panels for dexterity and maneuverability to properly work controls. And tend to Grace when Grace get sick. That part very important. Rocky want to help Grace. Rocky fix.”
Grace was following along pretty well until that last bit. Rocky had done his research on human malnutrition as soon as Grace mentioned rationing his food for the trip, and man, he was not at all happy about it. Grace assumed it was because with all the sleeping he’d end up doing once his body started running out of energy, it reminded him of his old crewmates, how he had watched them fall asleep one by one and never wake up again. Poor Rocky, alone in that massive ship with no one to watch him sleep…the thought always made Grace’s eyes well up.
Like they did right now.
“Rocky, you know we’ve got a while until that starts to become a concern, right? You don’t gotta worry about me just yet,” Grace said, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. Frankly he was touched that Rocky was looking out for him this far in advance. Who was he kidding, Rocky was always looking out for him.
“Yes, but if Rocky make suit now and suit have problem and things go bad bad bad during test, Rocky trust Grace to make sure Rocky safe to try again. Best to test while Grace is healthy.”
Well, he couldn’t argue with that logic.
“Alright, deal,” Grace smiled, putting his fist up to the Xenonite in front of Rocky, and Rocky returned the gesture with his claws making a thud on the clear material. “Just be careful, alright?“
“Rocky promise! Start right away!”
—————————————————————————
It had been a few days since that conversation. Rocky slaved away in his workshop every waking hour of the day. He worked on the suit when he watched Grace sleep, he worked on it as soon as he himself woke up, and every moment in between, only pausing to eat. He wouldn’t even take a break to rewatch Star Trek with Grace, which was one of his favorites! You had to hand it to the guy, he was committed.
And then, after a week of hard, tedious, claw-aching work, it was done. Though, Rocky would take a week of this over a week of chain any day.
Grace had taken a quick trip to the dormitory to retrieve his quilt—the lab got a little chilly sometimes and he was feeling snuggly—before he got an announcement from Mary’s intercom.
“Summons from crewmate Rocky.”
“I left for two seconds,” Grace chuckled to himself before folding the quilt under his arms and making his way back up to the lab.
“Summons from crewmate Rocky.”
“I’m coming, buddy, I’m coming!”
He opened the hatch to a series of excited chirps emanating from behind the Xenonite wall, so high pitched Grace wasn’t even sure if Rocky was actually saying words or if he was just squealing with glee.
And now Grace could see what had his friend so excited. On the other side of the barrier, Rocky was stomping happily inside of a near skin-tight Xenonite spacesuit. It was similar in concept to the one he had made Grace so the human could explore the Blip-A’s interior, but much more maneuverable. Heck, at first it took Grace a moment to notice he was wearing it at all!
Grace beamed as he trotted over, squatting down to get a good look. “Hey, you finished it!”
“Yes yes yes! Ran through many designs, none very comfortable, this design good good good. Is comfortable, and can move claws to work Hail Mary interface and controls. Very important.” Rocky demonstrated by raising his claws in a fist, then separating them and pressing his “palm” against the barrier. “Now just need testing in Grace atmosphere.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Grace asked, grinning at Rocky’s excitement as well as his own. “Oh! Actually, me. Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”
“Where Grace going, question?”
“When you come into my space you’ll be too hot for me to touch, so I’m grabbing the EVA gloves.”
“Ohh make sense, hurry hurry!”
Grace shot Rocky a thumbs down in his departure, leaving at a swift trot as he made his way to the airlock where the EVA suit resided. It took a few minutes, Rocky stomping back and forth impatiently all the while, before Grace returned.
“Alright bud, I’m here, let’s do this.”
“Yes yes yes, let’s!”
Rocky squeezed his way into the little airlock box that the two of them used to pass items back and forth, similar to the one in the tunnel connecting their respective ships when they first met. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he eventually got all his legs to fit comfortably inside. The air inside hissed as it cycled from Rocky’s atmosphere to Grace’s. As soon as it stopped it slid over to Grace’s side of the wall, and Rocky cautiously stepped out.
Both human and Eridian stood silent and still, not unlike how they did as soon as they re-entered Adrian’s orbit before everything went sideways and spinning. Only this time, nothing went wrong. Rocky flexed his claws, stretched all of his limbs out and up one by one, testing each joint of his suit for weaknesses or leaks. Nothing.
“All good?” Grace asked, turning his head and looking cautiously at his friend from the side of his eyes.
Rocky did a few more test bounces up and down with his carapace, before he stomped happily back and forth. “All good! All good good good!”
“Haha! Yes!” Grace whooped, pumping his fists in the air and grinning from ear to ear. Rocky chirped in excitement, spinning in a circle and doing jazz hands. Then Rocky stopped to give an exasperated groan, sounding a bit like a squeaky car brake.
“Rocky want to hug Grace but still too hot,” he whined.
Grace threw his head back and laughed. He put on his EVA gloves and walked over to Rocky to rest his protected palms on the top of his body around his vents. To say the Xenonite was scalding hot would be an understatement, and Grace almost had to pull away from the heat that radiated into his forearms, but he got used to it.
“Here, how’s this for starters,” he asked, masking his grimace with a friendly smile.
Rocky chirped in surprise. “Oh! Can feel! Can feel Grace through suit!” he said.
Grace chuckled. “Yeahah?”
“Yes yes yes!” Rocky chittered, shimmying from side to side as if he could barely contain his excitement. “I like!”
Rocky’s reaction was enough to make the near-burning skin worthwhile a hundred times over.
—————————————————————————
Where Grace went, Rocky went, clunking his way through the halls of the Hail Mary on five legs rather than inside of his ball. Grace had to admit, it was pretty nice having his friend like this. He was a little worried at first that Rocky having full access to the ship would cause some personal space problems and get him a little peeved, but honestly all annoyance was gone.
“Is Rocky cool enough for hug now, question?”
Well, there was that. But Grace couldn’t even be mad, the fact that Rocky was so excited for his first real hug but careful to not hurt Grace was beyond heartwarming.
Grace chuckled and hovered his bare hand over the Xenonite, just like he did ten minutes ago. Man, this stuff took ages to cool down.
“Not yet buddy, almost there though.”
They continued their endeavors.
“Is Rocky cool enough for hug now, question?”
“Oh my god…”
It took another forty minutes for the xenonite to cool down to a degree where it wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Sure, Grace could’ve put his EVA suit on, but selfishly he didn’t want to. The suit was bulky and annoying to put on in 1.5g’s, and call him sappy but he wanted to feel Rocky as completely as he could when he held him close after all this time. It was his first hug, after all, it had to be special.
And then, after so much waiting—months of it now, really, ever since Grace hugged Rocky’s ball that first time—it happened. Grace figured it out on accident, simply walking by Rocky in the dormitory and giving his head a gentle pat as he passed, and Rocky leaned into his hand as if they had done it a hundred times.
Then they both paused.
Rocky raised his carapace, practically buzzing with excitement. “Grace?”
Grace looked at his unburned palm, then to Rocky, and smiled. “Rocky cool enough for hug now, statement,” he beamed.
Rocky squealed so high pitched Grace thought it would shatter the computer screens, stomping happily with all his legs and wiggling back and forth. Then, with his legs momentarily scuffing along the ground, he launched himself at Grace, his front two arms outstretched.
Grace didn’t have half a second to prepare, scrambling backwards to try and cushion the blow, before Rocky had collided with him and he was knocked flat on his back.
“Woah! Woahwoahwoah Rocky—ouf!”
The wind was briefly knocked out of him from the impact, but then he laughed. He laughed and laughed as he sat up the best he could and held Rocky close, squeezing the alien against his chest. He didn’t even care that his breath was a little restricted from the pressure of Rocky’s arms around his ribcage. Tears of pure joy began to fall from his eyes, which he squeezed closed to just feel Rocky in his arms.
Rocky was singing, the sound almost like a whimper but more joyful. He was trembling a little. The first time Grace had heard this sound from Rocky it was when the Eridian had stepped foot back on the Hail Mary for the first time after his rescue. Keening, he had called it. He had explained it as a behavior akin to human crying, a release of great emotion. Very common in pebbles, but every Eridian did it from time to time.
In short, in their own respects, Grace and Rocky were both crying from joy at just being able to hug the other.
“Rocky…like hug…” Rocky said through keens, his voice a little warbled from emotion.
“Me too,” Grace replied, pressing his cheek into the hard surface that gave him more comfort than he’d experienced since he first woke up from his coma. Wow, he didn’t realized how starved for affectionate touch he really was.
“Rocky love love love Grace.”
Grace sobbed a wet laugh, squeezing his best friend closer still. “I love love love you too, buddy,” he said through his tears. “God, I love you so much.”
—————————————————————————
If Rocky and Grace were attached at the hip before, they may as well be one organism now.
The fact that they could properly touch had done wonders to the both of them. Both species were incredibly social, and as such physical contact was important for bonding.
And boy, did the two of them utilize it.
Head pats in passing, brushing against legs, resting against shoulders, you name it. Given Rocky’s reaction to that first hug all that time ago, Grace was shocked to find he was actually a super touchy-feely guy. He was constantly near Grace, brushing a claw or leaning his carapace on Grace as he watched him work.
And the sleeping situation had improved exponentially! Rocky, god bless him, was a snuggler. Perfect for Grace because Grace was also a snuggler. That first night when Grace settled down for bed, Rocky leapt right up onto the cot like an overgrown cat and curled up perfectly in the crook of Grace’s side. When Grace huffed a small chuckle and slung his arm over Rocky’s carapace, it was as if he always belonged there.
Oh! And the science part of it! Oughhhhh the science part!! They could now study the body of the other, take notes, see what made them tick, better than ever!
They set it up in the Don’t Go Crazy room, since they didn’t need any lab equipment, just a pen and notepad for Grace. Besides, if they did anything with reflexes and one of them ended up kicking the spectrometer or something, it would be a very expensive whoops.
Even though Rocky was an engineer, being around so many scientists before they…you know…gave him a curiosity around the topic that he didn’t have on Erid. Not only that, but he definitely needed to know how Grace’s body worked if he was going to optimize his survival as he ran out of food. If Armando could keep Grace alive, at least Rocky could help keep him comfortable and not alone.
But enough of the melancholy, they had learning to do!
Grace offered to go first, given Rocky’s concern about his body being the topic that led to the invention of the new Xenonite suit. Rocky wiggled happily from side to side in said suit, evidently enjoying his newfound freedom and the offer of getting to explore the alien anatomy. He scuttled right next to Grace, making sure to be cautious of his claws lest he step on and possibly break Grace’s legs.
The Eridian made a move to reach out, curious as ever, before he hesitated. The claws within the xenonite glove tapped against one another in an anxious fidget. Grace furrowed his brow. Rocky didn’t have eyes to follow to what had made him stop, but the way the concave face of his carapace was angled at the multitude of burn scars on the flesh of his left arm and the neat little claw-print on his right let Grace know that that was what he was worried about.
He gave his friend a small, sad smile, dipping his head a little to look at him square. “Rocky…”
“Rocky not want to hurt Grace again.” Rocky crooned, curling in on himself a little. “Scarring bad bad bad. Know it was to save Grace, save Rocky, but still hurt.”
“It won’t hurt me bud,” Grace insisted. “You know as well as I do how insulated your Xenonite is, it’ll be comfortably warm at most. Besides, we’ve hugged a good couple of times, remember? And it’s all been fine then.”
“Rocky can’t forget, but mesh most fragmented and thin at claws. Best design for dexterity.” He flexed said claws as he spoke, clacking them together in his nervous tic. “What if mesh break, question?”
Grace snorted, rubbing the top of Rocky’s carapace with his knuckles. That was one of his favorite things about Rocky’s new suit, getting to give him an affectionate noogie every once in a while. Well, one of his favorite things besides the hugs. Rocky gave some really great hugs.
“With your engineering? Not likely. You’re overthinking. And if it does, I run to the EVA suit, get you back into your ball, and we figure it out from there. I won’t let anything bad happen, buddy.”
Rocky hesitated for a moment before raising his carapace towards his friend. “Promise, question?”
“Promise, statement.”
With Grace’s assurance, Rocky tentatively reached out a claw once more. Xenonite-covered armor found the skin of Grace’s side, just under where his ribcage ended, and simply rested there for a moment. Rocky was gentle, so much so that Grace almost urged him to use more pressure so he could better hear and feel the human body under his claw. This was a bit of a biology lesson, after all.
Then Rocky’s claws squeezed once, twice, three times in rapid succession as he gave a curious trill, cocking his carapace to the side and clicking to get a better view, and Grace discovered quickly he had something else to add to his “Who Am I?” board.
He, Doctor Captain Ryland Grace, the world’s leading authority in astrophage biology and one of the saviors of Erid and (hopefully) Earth, was ticklish.
Really, really ticklish.
The reaction was immediate. A bark of shocked laughter leapt from his throat without his permission, and he squirmed away with a wobbly smile.
Rocky, on the other hand, found this no laughing matter. He let out a series of sharp alarmed whistles and scrambled back. “Apology! Apology! Apology! Rocky hurt Grace! Suit malfunction! Apology! Bad bad bad!” he rambled in a panic, curling his legs under himself and pressing his two front limbs together, dipping his carapace behind them.
“Woah woah hey, easy there pal, you’re okay!” Grace rushed to assure him, reaching out a hand to usher him back. When Rocky stepped further away, Grace wasted no time in lifting up his shirt so Rocky could see where he had touched him. “Look! It’s not red, the skin isn’t irritated, you didn’t hurt me! You just tickled me, that’s all, no harm no foul. You’re okay. We’re okay.”
After several moments hesitation, Rocky crept closer, his body still low to the ground. The sight made Grace’s heart break a little bit. Man, their adventures in Tau Ceti’s system really messed the two of them up, didn’t they?
When Rocky was close enough, Grace put a hand on top of his carapace. Rocky leaned into it with low chitters. With his other hand he took Rocky’s claw, the one that Rocky believed had burned him. He shook it back and forth in a silly way to show his anxious alien friend how harmless it was.
“See? The suit doesn’t burn, and you were very gentle. You didn’t hurt me, bud,” Grace soothed, curling and relaxing his fingers to gently scratch at Rocky’s vents through his suit. Rocky seemed to like it, taking a step closer still while the tension in his body slowly subsided.
“Rocky not want to hurt Grace.” he finally said, his voice low. “Grace very important to Rocky. Rocky not forgive self if cause Grace pain like that again.”
Gosh darn it, Grace was not going to cry right now. He straight up refused.
“Oh, buddy, come here,” Grace sighed sadly, scooting close to Rocky and pulling him into his arms. Rocky pressed his carapace against the man’s chest and sang low and soft, wrapping two arms around Grace’s middle.
“You’re important to me, too. More than I’ll ever be able to put into words.” He pulled away slightly to look at Rocky square, dipping his head as if forcing the eyeless creature to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing, and I mean nothing, you could do to me that I wouldn’t be able to forgive you for. All these…?” He gestured at his burn scars, “were gotten out of love. You loved me enough to risk your life to drag me to safety,” he pointed to the raised claw-print, “and I loved you enough to risk my life bringing you to your own atmosphere so you could heal,” he ended by rubbing his fingertips up and down the gnarly skin.
“Don’t disservice the both of us by chalking all these up to just pain. We fought hard to keep each other alive, and these are marks of that. Okay?”
Rocky nodded his carapace, a human mannerism he had picked up from his friend. “If Rocky were human, would probably be leaking right now. Very very leaky.”
Grace laughed, giving Rocky one last squeeze for good measure. “Ready to try again?” he asked, tapping Rocky’s carapace twice with the question. An Eridian mannerism he had picked up from his friend.
“Yes yes yes, feel better now.”
“Good!”
Rocky put his claw right back where it was, then paused once more. “Can Grace explain new word before continue, question?”
“New word, new word…” he wracked his brain, but it came up empty.
“What Grace say Rocky do when Grace flinch away from touch. Scare Rocky.”
“Oh! Yes, got it. So that was something called tickling. I’m not sure if you guys have a word for it, but basically it’s my body’s response to unexpected external stimuli.” Grace began. “It’s hypothesized that knismesis, which is a lesser, more itchy sensation, was evolved to detect insects or small parasites on the skin, while gargalesis, which is what I just experienced, is a more extreme reaction that elicites laughter and is linked to the fight or flight response. Though, no one’s really sure why that bit of it evolved. Maybe for social bonding through play, maybe to protect vulnerable parts of the body in combat, there’s a bunch of theories that no one can really prove for sure,” he finished with a shrug.
Did he know all this from doing a deep dive on ticklishness after learning rats could be ticklish in one of his science classes?
Yes. Yes, he did.
“You squeezed my side, which is a common ticklish spot, so my body moved away from the stimuli, being your claw, and made me laugh. Does that make sense?”
Rocky hums in acknowledgment. “Yes, make sense. Eridians have similar response to stimuli. Speculated to detect parasites and social bonding, same as humans. All Eridians ticklish. All humans ticklish, question?”
Grace filed that information away for later before shaking his head. “Not all of us, but most are.”
“Understand. Back to anatomy study now, question?”
“Yeah, we got a little sidetracked,” Grace chuckled.
Grace leaned back on his hands, his legs criss-crossed in front of him as he let Rocky do his thing once more, though this time there was a bit of an anticipatory smile pulling at his lips. Instead of resting his claw on Grace’s side like before, Rocky had opted for the chest approach this time, and Grace could only assume he was hearing past his ribcage and into the organs inside.
“Internal muscle pulsing and two others expanding with Grace breath. Heart and lungs, question?”
Grace gave him a thumbs up. “Ding ding ding, we got a winner!” he grinned. “Our respiratory systems are completely different from each other, but my heart and circulatory system works similarly to yours, except my heart pumps iron-based blood while yours is mercury, and I only have one while you have five. Make sense?”
“Yes yes yes. What bones made of, question?” Rocky asked, his claw trailing down to the human’s ribcage. It was hard to the touch, but Rocky was still incredibly careful.
The anticipation was back again, but Grace couldn’t really pinpoint why. Rocky had barely touched him, he couldn’t be that ticklish, could he? Maybe it was a fluke, a kneejerk reaction to his body not being properly touched in so long—
Squeeze squeeze.
Nope, definitely ticklish.
“CaHAlcium!” Grace yelped, cut off mid-answer by a rather obnoxious cackle. He cleared his throat, giving Rocky’s carapace a reassuring pat with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. “Sorry, calcium.”
Rocky didn’t retract his claw in fear this time (progress!) but he did still all movement and cocked his carapace. “Tickle response, question?”
“Yeah, heh. Yeah.”
“Heart rate elevated,” Rocky stated.
Grace gave a small laugh. “Part of said tickle response,” he said. “Like I said, it’s connected to our fight or flight instinct, which makes our body pump out adrenaline, which then increases our heart rate. It’s really cool actually, sometimes humans can get this crazy rush of adrenaline in life or death situations and get this insane stre-hehaha hehey!”
He was interrupted by his own frantic stammering when Rocky squeezed at his ribs again. Then the little rascal laughed at him, his trilling chirps sneakily squeaking through his vents!
“Hey! Are you doing that on purpose?” Grace asked, knitting his brows together and waggling an accusing finger at his friend.
“Mmmm. No.” Squeeze squeeze squeeze.
“You ahahahare you so are!” Grace couldn’t help but succumb to his giggles, tilting his head back with a wide grin and swatting at the offending claw. At least it was only one, and it was gentle-
Oh fudge there’s another one. There’s another claw.
Rocky had reached across with a second arm and began squeezing at the same spot on his other side. He gave a series of high pitched giggling chirps as he stepped over Grace’s lap, effectively pinning him to his spot on the walkway of the Don’t Go Crazy room. And, given his bulk and Grace’s already suffering abs from laughing, it took very little time for Grace to lie back on the ground as Rocky took him apart.
“W-wahahahahait nohohoho! Rockyhehehehe!” He wriggled and shoved at his friend’s carapace, unable to stop the peals of laughter forced from him at Rocky’s touch.
Rocky ceased his tickle attack and sat back on three of his five legs. “Rocky cause discomfort, question?”
Grace pushed himself back to sitting, leaning back on one hand while rubbing at the ghost tickles on his ribs with the other. He shook his head with a smile. “Noho, bud yohou’re oka-“
“Then Rocky continue tickle Grace!”
“W-wait whahaHAHAHAT?!”
Grace considered himself lucky Rocky was conscious of his weight and balance. If he wasn’t using his other three legs to keep himself steady and his center of balance secure, Grace wasn’t sure if he could handle any more claws sneaking in to tickle him. Rocky was ruthless!
Wriggling claws found their way under his arms, making him clamp his elbows to his sides in a futile attempt to block the attack. One claw relinquished in favor of squeezing at an elbow, which gave Grace a small but appreciated break at least on that side of his body. Rocky must have noticed the lack of reaction and opted to squeeze and pinch at his hips and knees instead. He definitely got his reaction there, Grace shrieked and bucked his hips with such intensity that had Rocky not been so heavy it might’ve thrown him off.
The more logical part of his brain noted the assault focused mainly on his joints, which must be common tickle spots for Eridians. However, the rest of his brain was too focused on being tickled absolutely stupid to care about that little tidbit.
Grace was in absolute hysterics. His brain had all but turned to mush, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth agape with boisterous laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard, if ever.
“Okahahahay okay! Rocky time ohohohout pahahahause plehehehease!” He pleaded, swatting Rocky’s claws in a pitiful attempt to fight the Eridian off. Rocky took mercy on him and complied with his request for a “time out” without hesitation. Grace pushed himself back up with heavy limbs, leaning back on his elbows and getting out the rest of his titters.
“Humans not have tickle spot like Eridian,” Rocky noted, pointing at Grace’s elbow. “Not ticklish, question? Is common Eridian spot.”
Grace looked at Rocky over his glasses with a raised brow, his head slightly bowed as he recovered from the playful attack. “Noho. No, because we have no vital organs there.”
“Then why is leg joint more ticklish than arm joint, question?”
Grace shrugged. “My guess is because humans are built for running, so our legs need more ‘training’ in avoiding injury.” He put the word “training” in air quotes. “That’s just my theory though. Everyone’s got areas that are more ticklish than others, like I said it’s up to a lot of speculation.”
Rocky hummed and wiggled his carapace as he digested the information. “Understand.” Then he went still, clicking and chirping away and tapping a claw against the ground. “So…humans commonly most ticklish where many vital organs are inside.”
“Correct.”
He pointed a claw at his friend’s stomach. “Rocky hear many organs here.”
Immediately Grace felt butterflies go absolutely ballistic in his belly. If that was any indication, he could piece two and two together that he was probably really ticklish there, even if he didn’t remember.
If he could, he would have shoved his foot so far in his big mouth it’d be seen where the sun doesn’t shine.
His body moved before his brain caught up, scooting back on his hands and his mouth forced into a giddy grin. Again, not a good sign. “R-Rockyhehehehe, c’mohon man-“
“Rocky learn human anatomy, must touch to hear beneath skin, Grace be still!” Rocky chirped, and Grace didn’t miss for a second the amused lilt that was ever present in his friend’s voice. The little bugger was having way too much fun at his expense.
Grace did not, in fact, be still. Grace had preferred to scramble to his feet and put said running legs to use. Well, he would have if Rocky hadn’t all but tackled him back to the ground. Grace was on his back again, staring wide eyed at his captor with a goofy smile on his face.
“Nohohoho wahait let’s talk we can talk about this Rocky plehehehease!”
Rocky said nothing. Granted, Grace wasn’t actually sure if he could speak through his squeaky giggles. He raised his claws in the air and scrunched them in and out. Oh god, that made it so much worse! And he had started to lower them to his stomach!
“NONONONO dohohon’t do it! Dohon’t doho ihihihit ROCKYHEHEHE-!”
Increasingly desperate pleas fell on impossibly deaf ears (jerk) as Rocky’s claws finally touched down. Well, crashed down was more accurate, for they had made contact on his stomach with such sudden ferocity that Grace honest to god screamed before trailing off into wheezes. Wheezes then turned into cackling belly laughter once he finally got a breath in.
“ROCKY!!! RohockyheHEHEHE NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!” Grace howled through his laughter, his flailing arms trying and failing to push Rocky off of him and defend his middle all at once.
He was very briefly reminded of the last time he was pinned to the ground in similar fashion, but instead of desperate sobs to spare his life, all that was driven from his mouth was giddy, carefree laughter as Rocky tickled him to pieces. It was honestly a little refreshing from the horrid memory.
Rocky was a little monster. He was trilling and giggling and whistling in a way that was reminiscent of cooing at something cute. Grace thought might actually die. From embarrassment or from being tickled to death, he wasn’t sure. Most likely a mix of the two.
“Grace! Be! Still!” Rocky reiterated, intensifying a squeeze with each whistling word. He was absolutely evil! His technique even more so! He squeezed and pinched and poked and skittered erratically with no rhyme or reason, swapping tactics in a way that drove his cackling victim up a wall.
The final nail in the coffin, though, was when Rocky had discovered the effectiveness of sticking his hands under Grace’s shirt and vibrating his curled claws rapidly back and forth. In all the months they’d known each other, the last and only time he’d heard Grace this loud was their first real meeting when Grace had shrieked with fear, wielding a wrench.
Now, under much sillier circumstances, Rocky was positively enamored with the joyful noise coming from his squishy companion under his claws. He could hear the surface of his smile, his nose wrinkled and scrunched, his brows furrowed and his eyes screwed shut with mirthful tears pricking at the corners, his glasses crooked on his face as he shook his head back and forth. And best of all, his laughter. Bright and happy and contagious even to a complete different species. Second only to his mate’s song, it was definitely Rocky’s favorite sound.
However, to both Rocky’s dismay and understanding, Grace could only take it for so long. In all seriousness, human adrenaline and stamina was something to be admired, but he was definitely reaching his limit.
“OHOHOHOH MY GOD OKAHAHAY!” he yelled, clutching his stomach and kicking his legs in the air as if trying to run from the ticklish touches. “ENOUGHENOUGHENOUGH UHUNCLE! UHUHUHUNCLE HAHAHAHAHA MEHEHERCYHEHEHEHE!!!”
Rocky scuttled off with incredibly fond giggles, perching by Grace’s head to fix his glasses and give him space to breathe. He carded his claws gently through the blond hair as Grace fought to regain his bearings. His chest heaved, his shoulders shaking with leftover breathless giggles.
“Yohohohou,” he huffed, pointing a floppy hand at the Eridian, “ahahare awfuhul!”
“And you are stuck on Hail Mary with Rocky for next four years,” Rocky quipped back through pleased chirrups.
“Bite me.”
“Rocky cannot bite, not have mouth.“
“Ihit’s a joke, bud.”
“Ah, understand.”
Jeez, he felt like he had just run a marathon. His abs hurt, his face was sore, his throat was hoarse. Rocky had really did a number on him. But despite all that, he couldn’t deny the pleasant buzz of dopamine in his brain from the physical exertion and all the laughter.
“God, I’m living with a flipping tickle monster,” he cleared his throat and groaned, rubbing his eyes under his glasses.
“Grace okay, question?”
“Oh yeahaha, pal, I’m all good.” More than all good, actually. Thinking back on the past few days filled with meal prep and rationing math and dread, he needed that. A good tussle was exactly what the doctor ordered. Even if it was pretty one-sided.
Rocky nudged Grace with his carapace once the human finally got his breath back. “Rocky turn next, question?”
Grace sat up and looked at Rocky with a quirked brow and crooked smile. “Yohou want me to tickle you back?” he asked, a chuckle lacing his voice. In all honesty Grace was planning some thorough revenge anyways, but he wasn’t expecting Rocky to ask for it outright!
“Yes yes yes,” Rocky chirped, doing his little jazz hands in place. “Grace want to learn Eridian biology, and tickle is bonding between good good good friends! Play, silly, happy happy happy for Grace and Rocky.”
Grace smiled from ear to ear. Oh, this guy had no idea what he’d just unleashed upon himself.
If Ryland Grace was anything, he was competitive. He wouldn’t let that moron with a doctorate tell him water was always necessary for life to evolve, he wouldn’t back down when Lokkens tried her best to convince him Earth life and astrophage evolved from completely different root species, and now he definitely wasn’t letting Rocky get off the hook for tickling him within an inch of his life.
“Are you sure about this, Rock?” He sing-songed. “Because I’m not going easy on you.”
“Rocky tough, Rocky take it!” the Eridian beside him whistled, sticking out his carapace boldly.
Oohohoh, challenge accepted buddy.
He curled his fingers into wiggly claws and tried his best to make his smile look more predatory, but he knew he just looked like a dork. He could live with that, he was happy to be goofing around with his best friend, dang it. “Your funeral!”
Grace gave Rocky zero buildup. No test squeezes, no pokes or taps, no trying to hide his intentions, just immediately digging aggressively into Rocky’s joints.
The pitch at which Rocky squealed was almost painful to his ears, but Grace was too giddy to care. He grabbed onto one of Rocky’s flailing limbs and pulled himself closer, curling his legs criss-cross-applesauce around his giggling friend.
“So, you wanna tell me where Eridians are most ticklish?” He asked, as casually as if he was having a normal conversation. He had to raise his voice a little bit over Rocky’s laughter. “You already told me about riiiiiight here!” He grabbed two of Rocky’s elbow joints and squeezed rapidly through the Xenonite mesh. Rocky did his best to scuttle away through shrill cackles, but only ended up tipping himself backwards onto his side, his legs flopping and flailing and looking for all the world like a mix between a spider and a turtle stuck on its back.
“Ohoh no you don’t!” Grace growled, getting onto his knees and reaching forward to follow Rocky’s momentum. He stuck his hands flat on Rocky’s sideways carapace, looming over him and grinning. “Spill it! Where else?”
“Grace….find out….for yourself!” Rocky challenged through his squeaky tittering.
Grace’s grin got impossibly wider as he curled his fingers, making Rocky squeal and his legs scrunch in anticipation. “Ohhhhhkay, you’re asking for it now!”
Caution of getting his fingers pinched to the wind, he clawed at the joints where Rocky’s arms met his body, where his “armpit” would be, and Rocky went absolutely berserk. He squirmed and flailed and cackled. It sort of sounded as if someone was shriek-laughing into one of the recorders the Grover-Cleveland music room used to have. Grace used to hate hearing that squeaky sound through the halls when the kids first learned to play the instrument, but now this similar sounding song was music to his ears.
“Soooooo I’m guessing the elbows and leg joints because that’s where parasites can get in, right?” Grace asked as he continued to take his friend apart. Said friend couldn’t speak through his cackling. Or, maybe he could, but it was so intermingled with his laughter that Grace or the translator couldn’t pick it up.
So, he slowed down a bit, letting Rocky get a breather in. His vents were steaming a little bit from the exertion. All that movement and laughter must’ve been a little taxing on his body. Another similarity between humans and Eridians.
Grace huffed an affectionate laugh through his nose, scratching gently at the top of Rocky’s carapace in a soothing way rather than a tickly one. He didn’t want to overwhelm the poor guy. Or worse, send him into an unexpected slumber before he ate.
“Did you hear me, bud?” He asked, tapping twice. It was a normal behavior, but those two taps made Rocky squeak and giggle.
“Yes…Rocky hear…apology…need moment,” Rocky huffed, still tittering a little all the while.
“No worries, pal, take all the time you need,” Grace said, resorting from scratching to just rubbing the flat of his palm and pads of his fingers along the tip of the Xenonite suit. Rocky trilled, leaning as much as he could into it from his lopsided position.
“Alright buddy, on your feet,” Grace chuckled, bracing his feet against the floor and holding Rocky’s claws to pull him right-side up while Rocky pushed with his back legs. Rocky didn’t leave his position in Grace’s lap, though, he just curled his legs underneath him and settled right there.
“Okay, recover now,” Rocky announced. “Answer to Grace question is yes. Eridian joints much much much ticklish because easiest for parasites to enter body. Bad bad bad. But also limbs are place most touched by other Eridians. Sensory input from external stimuli aid in social interaction and bonding between individuals.”
Grace nodded along. “Gotcha. Not so different, are we pal?” He smiled fondly, tapping twice once more with his question on the top of Rocky’s carapace.
Once more came the giggling, making Grace smile in his endearment. “Whahat is going on, you’re never this giggly when I do that,” he asked, unable to help the laughter weaving in between his words.
“Grace tickle Rocky within minutes of deep sleep! Still tickle! Vibrations from question tap tickle!” Rocky said indignantly, poking Grace in the stomach and making him yelp and squirm.
“Okahay! OkAHAhahay I gehet it! My bahahad!” He laughed, holding the offending claw with one hand and clutching at his stomach with the other.
Rocky ceased his attack, giggling and swinging Grace’s hand back and forth like Grace had done with him several minutes before while looking rather pleased with himself.
“One of these days I’ll have to introduce you to the long-standing earth tradition of tickle fights,” Grace said with a smile, tapping Rocky’s carapace a little more to make him squirm. “We’d have to do it in zero G, though, otherwise you’d win by a long shot.”
“Yes yes yes, Rocky win fight. Much stronger than leaky space blob!”
“Yeah? Well I’m faster,” Grace retorted. “I could run you down any day of the week. I gotta teach you about persistence hunting one of these days.” An idea was quickly coming to mind on how that’s go down, a smile already curling his lips at the prospect.
“Faster not help when Rocky have Grace like this!”
Grace shrieked as Rocky’s claws shoved at his shoulders and pinned him down again, descending upon his belly once more shortly after and immediately eliciting cries for surrender. “AAAHAHAHA OKAY OKAY YOU WIN!!! YOU WIHIHIN GET OHOHOFFA MEHEHEHEHEHE!”
Rocky took mercy on him quick, thankfully, backing off with smug giggles and helping Grace back up.
“Nohoho…noho more for today, alright? I’m beat,” Grace giggled, waving his hand back and forth and shaking his head with a smile still plastered on his face.
“Yes yes yes, Grace sleep, Rocky watch!” Rocky chirped happily. They gathered the translator and notebook (the pen had been kicked off of the walkway in the scuffle and was long gone), and made their way to the dormitory.
It was a routine that took very little time to fall into. Grace changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth with Rocky giving him his privacy as normal, Grace settling into bed and getting cozy under the covers as normal, and then lifting up the quilt so Rocky could hop up and settle down to watch, which was their new normal. Grace even kept the room a little cooler than the rest of the ship, so he wouldn’t overheat with Rocky snuggled up next to him.
Rocky curled three of five limbs comfortably underneath his carapace, the other two left free to wander and keep busy as Grace slept. One drifted up to run through Grace’s hair, while the other splayed across his chest.
“You know,” Grace said after a moment, a yawn following his voice, “I think this is one of your best ideas to date,” he smiled. Sure, the idea to eat the Taumoeba may end up saving his life, hopefully, but he was pretty sure this whole being able to touch thing saved his heart and soul. He couldn’t believe he and Rocky had gone so long without a proper hug.
Rocky chirped in amusement, his frequency rumbling deep into Grace’s chest. “Grace stupid from little sleep and too much tickles,” he said, and Grace could recognize his tone as incredibly fond. It made his chest feel fuzzy with affection. Still can’t take a compliment. One more thing they had in common. “Grace sleep, I watch.”
@amazingmsme lol I had a lot of fun with Rocky's dialogue. I also lost the plot a bit, but I feel like it makes up for it by being the sappiest tickle fic I've ever written.
Summary: Simon teaches Rocky some fun new words. He learns that there are consequences to sentencing Grace to a lifetime of being cursed out by aliens.
lee!Simon ler!Grace
“Grace is shit at walking, statement.”
If you were to tell 20-year-old-Ryland that he’d one day be cussed out by a living rock for tripping over its latest project, he’d probably think you're insane. He sure feels insane right now.
“...Excuse me?”
“Grace heard Rocky.”
“Yeah, I did- where did you learn that?!” He swore he set parental locks on his laptop.
“Rocky not tell. Grace can eat my fuck.”
“That's not even-”
Oh. My. God. Simon, that son of a gun. You rescue a guy from the vacuum of space and think he'd be grateful, but no. He repays them by teaching Rocky how to curse. He's never going to know peace again.
“Ohoho. That man is dead meat.”
Rocky shrinks, then scuttles away to the plant room; he must warn his enabler. The eridian bowls into the doorframe, squeaking in alarm.
“Simon, Simon! Grace mad, call Simon corpse. Hide hide hide.”
The man gives Rocky a cheeky look, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah? Is that so?”
“Is so. Rocky hide now.” He scurries off, though Simon's not sure how well he'll be able to hide with the xenonite ball clunking around the ship. Ah well, not his problem. He goes back to repotting the tomatoes.
Not ten seconds later is he interrupted by a voice ominously close to his turned back.
“Simon.”
He isn't proud to admit he shrieks like a cat.
“Holy- Grace! When did you get here?”
“Did you teach Rocky how to curse?”
Shit.
“...No.”
“Let me rephrase. Why would you teach Rocky how to curse?”
“Alright, fine, you got me. I thought I'd do him a favor by spicing up his vocabulary- it was funny. You gotta admit it's kind of funny, right?”
Ryland’s face seems to disagree. Simon withers under his gaze, setting the tomatoes aside. His tail twitches in anticipation.
“Not at all,” Grace says, folding his arms. “The translator only has PG-rated words for a reason. I get called an idiot often enough, but you, mister, just opened a pandora's box of new insults. You are in so much trouble.”
“Hang on. Grace. Grace, let's talk about this.” In his haste, he hip checks the table, growing more nervous when he realizes Grace is blocking the only exit.
Months ago, he would've hiked his shoulders and braced for a fight, but danger is only a fleeting thought. They’ve shown him nothing but kindness even when he was cagey in response. Now though, he almost feels giddy. Grace approaches wordlessly, crossing the room in swift steps, an evil sparkle in his eye.
“W-wait!” The man actually stops, leaving Simon sputtering for an excuse. Grace can't stop himself from smirking.
“Well? I'm waiting.”
“Um. Shit. Uh- I didnt think this through.”
“Yeah? You wanna know what I think?”
Simon has to bite his lip to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping when the back of his legs bump into the counter. He's cornered.
Grace looks delighted.
“I think…that I have the perfect way to get you to apologize.”
He darts his hands to the other's sides and squeezes. Simon gasps, torn between using his arm to steady himself with the table, or batting at the offending hand. Grace is caging him in against the counter, grinning down at him all smug, glasses askew and hair adorably ruffled- god, his face is burning. He ultimately uses his one hand to cover his face, regretting it when Grace starts scratching at his stomach. Down he goes.
“Oh, it's floor time. I see,” Ryland chuckles, chasing him as his knees buckle. Simon's given up on holding back, giggling into his palm. The attacking fingers scuttle under his arms, and he squeaks out a protest before succumbing to laughter.
“ShIT! Grahahace! Nohohot theheRE!”
“Now you're cussing me out? Deplorable behavior. That's another 30 seconds.”
“Whahahat?! You cahan’t-”
“I can.”
“Yohou cahahan’t- fUHUCK! I mehehan fuhudge! F-fudGE!” Simon screams, brain scrambled.
“30 more seconds. Better keep your language clean if you want this to end any time soon,” he chimes.
He's trying, he really is, but it's hard when his mind can only supply an endless stream of ohshititicklesitticklesno, fucknottherepleaseit’ssobadPLEASE. Grace skitters his nails over his gill ridges and Simon swears the touch is electric.
“Gosh, you really can't take this, huh?” Grace says, watching his tail thump against the ground. He gets the genius idea to scribble over the base of the tail, and is rewarded with a squeal, Simon squirming like a breakdancing worm.
“Nononoho! Grahahace-”
This spot draws out frantic, high pitched giggles. Grace almost coos before he remembers he's supposed to be mad.
“Please what?”
“S-screw yohohou.”
“30 seconds.”
“WHAHAT?! That's nahat even a bad wohohord!” Simon shrieks.
“Yeaaah, but it was mean, and I'm the one calling the shots here.”
Before he can preach the injustice of it all, Grace rolls up Simon's shirt, hooking it over his face so that he can't see.
“Hehey, mmph-”
He hears Ryland take a deep breath. Oh, god no.
The man plants a raspberry directly on his rib gills and Simon loses it, arching his back, shrieking at the top of his lungs. He blindly shoves at Grace's face, who counters by pinning his arm to the ground. Weak from laughter, he has no choice but to take it. On the bright side, he can no longer speak, so there's no risk of curses slipping out.
What Simon can't see, is Grace admiring his scrunched up face from where it peeks over the fabric, freed from his wild thrashing. It's a long shot from the Simon he found: a terrified survivor whose trust he fought tooth and nail for. His cackling makes him want to burst from happiness. A smile suits him, he thinks.
After what feels like forever (he'd love to keep going, but unfortunately humans need to breathe), Grace gives him a break, pulling the shirt back down, but keeping his arm pinned.
“Are you ready to say sorry now?”
The question doesn't even register Simon's frazzled mind.
“Hehehewhahat?”
Grace darts a hand to his gills, pulling back at the last second.
“AH- Okahay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”
“Sorry for what?” His hand inches closer.
“I'm sohohorry I taught him how to cuRSE! Noho more, please!”
“Hmmm. I suppose that'll have to do,” Grace sighs. “The damage is done, but I accept your apology. You should be grateful I'm so forgiving.”
He climbs off of him and bursts into laughter at the way Simon stays limp on the floor, giggling.
“Oh my god,” he coos.
“Shuhut up.”
“Whatever, fish sticks. Come on, it's bed time. You and I need some rest if we’re gonna get Rocky back tomorrow.”
Simon groans, propping himself up on unsteady legs like a newborn calf. Grace moves in to help him but is swatted away.
“Don’t touch me, you beast.”
“Well, ‘the beast’ wants his beauty sleep, and you're moving at the speed of continental drift. Come on.”
In the end, the beast and butcher lounge side-by-side in the “dont-go-crazy-room,” drifting off with revenge on their mind. Revenge, and also the quiet joy of being so close to the other.
A bit angsty because it starts with Grace on the Hail Mary and then there’s a flashback. But mostly it’s happy :)
Switch!Colt, Switch!Grace
Summary: Grace is allowed a family visit a month before launch. Colt certainly makes his presence known.
———
I only got to see Colt once before the launch. He obviously didn’t know what was happening, and neither did I. Stratt insisted on a “family visit” day for all the higher-up members of Project Hail Mary.
I suppose it wasn’t planned as a final goodbye, given that it was before the explosion, but you never know with her.
Small mercies.
Colt was the only one who could come. I remember it now.
All too well… his favorite song. I smiled to myself.
I toss the beanbag in my hands up towards Mary’s cockpit “ceiling.” It accelerates endlessly, infinitely, in zero gravity. The beanbag makes contact and spins back down to me. I’m not wearing glasses so it hits me square in the nose—a blur of green and blue yarn.
***
I stared at the empty sky. Everyone else’s family had already arrived. I turned back to head to the science building alone, losing hope. Just as I took a few steps away from the landing pad, I heard the distant roar of jet engines.
Oh. He made it.
Colt hopped out of the jet, cool as a cucumber. As if he did this every day.
He probably did, to be honest.
“Well if it isn’t Dr. Ryland Grace!” Colt called, striding confidently towards me.
I had to actively frown to avoid having some weird reaction, like being happy to see him or something. Imagine.
“You’re late,” I complained, meeting him halfway. “And would you keep it down?” I hissed.
“Why? Aren’t you a big shot around here?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way—“
“Come on, I want the grand tour,” Colt grinned, elbowing me in the side.
After I gave him his “grand tour” (the trailers, the launchpad, the science building), I brought Colt around to a quiet clearing behind my trailer.
“You’re not gonna invite me inside?” He needled.
“It’s cramped in there,” I said. It was true—they’d given me the closet-sized one. Not that I minded too much.
“Oh, so not as much of a big shot as I imagined, eh?”
I ignored him and sat down on the bench. Our breaths fogged in the chilly Baikonur air.
“What are you up to these days?” I asked him awkwardly. I felt a little guilty that I’d barely spoken to my twin brother in the past few years.
“Filming more movies,” he said languidly. “Setting myself on fire. Throwing myself at walls. Getting beaten up. The usual.”
I nodded slowly. It had been too long since we last fought about his lifestyle choices and I wasn’t in the mood to rekindle that argument. “Are you still seeing that director?”
His face lit up and I couldn’t help but smile. “Jody, yeah,” he said, staring off into the sky with a smile. “She kind of dumped me, but then we got back together. It’s been great.”
His joy was contagious. “I’m glad,” I murmured.
I didn’t push for more—marriage, kids, etc. Speaking as a single middle-aged man, I knew those questions were annoying as fudge.
He looked over. “Hey, there we go.”
“What?” I asked.
“You’re smiling again,” Colt grinned.
“I- well, yes, but what’s your point?”
“You’ve been so serious today,” Colt complained. “For a second I thought saving the world had made you all stoic and boring.”
“I’m not saving the world,” I protested, eyes downcast.
“You literally are.”
“No,” I said sadly. “Yao and Ilyukhina and Dubois are.”
Colt exhaled slowly, the breath whistling through his teeth.
I blinked away tears.
“It’s super…” He searched for the right word, “…solemn out here, huh,” Colt mused.
I nodded.
“Listen, I’m… I’m glad you found something so meaningful to spend your time on,” Colt murmured genuinely. “Not that teaching wasn’t, but I don’t know… you seem like you have a community with these people. It seems like people appreciate you.”
I looked back up at him. It had been a long time since he’d been so sincere with me.
I cleared my throat. “Thanks, Colt,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Yao, Ilyukhina, Dubois,” Colt mumbled. “I heard about them on the news. Are you close with them?”
”I spent hours training Dubois on the science of astrophage,” I explained. “And I taught Yao and Ilyukhina some basics as well. And all three of us spent a lot of time in meetings together.”
He nodded.
“I’m sure you did a great job, Ry,” Colt said. “They’ll be such experts that astrophage will come out of their ears or something.”
I let out a feeble laugh.
“C’mon, bro, you can do better than that,” Colt chuckled. I yelped as he hooked an arm around my neck and pulled me in for a noogie.
“Gosh, Colt, whahat’s up with you today—“
He messed up my hair even further and I tried to shove his hands away. “Can you give me something more than a dying man’s last breath as a laugh, dude?”
“That’s not— Lemme go,” I whined.
He only tightened his hook around my neck. “I learned all sorts of chokeholds for my last movie. Just saying.”
I pursed my lips and made a grumbly sound of annoyance. Neither of us did anything for a moment, and then he squeezed his bicep and forearm together to squish my neck even further.
“Ack- Colt! You’re choking me, dang it—“
“C’mon, Ry, curse me out like a real man.”
“You’re asking for this, you jerk.” I scribbled my hand up Colt’s exposed side from his hip to his armpit like a spider.
Colt flinched away from my hand, his hold on my neck loosening. He made a squealing noise that I hadn’t heard him make since we were just kids messing around. “Hehey, don’t!”
I snickered. “Now let me go.”
He growled. “No.”
Colt shifted his arm so he was gripping the nape of my neck with his hand. He squeezed three times and I went berserk, sinking down in my seat and kicking out like a lunatic. I exploded with squeaky giggles and my cheeks burst into flames.
“COHOHOLT!”
Colt skittered his fingernails around the sensitive area. “Now that’s a real laugh,” he said smugly. “It’s kind of adorable that this still works on you.”
I batted weakly at his hands. “Gohosh daharn it— Stohop that!”
“Not happening,” he said. “Fuhget-about-it,” he added in that silly New York accent we both do.
Colt scratched gently behind my ear and I squealed. He chuckled along with me.
I wasn’t going to take this lying down, dang it. I twisted my torso to face him, pressing my shoulder towards the side of my neck that he was tickling to protect it. Colt had an arm propped up on the back of the bench and snaked around my shoulders to reach my neck, leaving his armpit wide open. Bingo.
I plunged my hand under his arm and wiggled my fingers desperately, trying to cover as much surface area as possible. Colt burst into giggles, his arm shooting down and releasing my neck to protect the sensitive spot.
“Oh, not so smug now, huh?” I prodded. I squeezed and scratched at the hollow of his armpit.
“STOHOHOP- Get outta thehere!!” Colt leaned desperately away from me, sliding down the bench, but he was too weak from laughter to shove me off or run away.
“Does Jody know about this?” I teased relentlessly. “Does she know she can take down Mr. “Danger is my middle name” with just a few wiggling fingers?”
“SHUHUT UP!”
“Oh, man, your face is so red right now,” I grinned.
“RY, STOHOP—CONVERSE!”
I stopped as soon as I heard it. That was our code word when we were kids, when one of us was in a situation we didn’t want to be in and needed out immediately. And yes, we sometimes used it when one of us was pinned to the floor and being tickled within an inch of our lives. Usually it was me.
“You okay?” I asked. Yes, I was a smidge concerned.
He caught his breath, huffing and puffing dramatically. “Motherfucker.”
Another time I’d have said “Language,” but today, I quipped, “Would be concerning if that was the case. Considering the twin situation.”
“Smartass,” he said, and then suddenly he was tackling me to the ground. I landed on my stomach, bracing my forearms against the dirt.
“OWWW… Colt, seriously?” I whined.
I felt him straddle my hips and I grunted an “oof.”
“You’re such a baby,” he complained. “Anyway, did you think I was gonna let you have the last word—Uh, the last tickle?”
“Ugh, let me up,” I grumbled. “I laughed for you already, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, no, mission accomplished in that regard,” he chuckled. “You see, little bro, this is about my pride.”
“You’re only four minutes older— AH!”
He had started pinching up my ribs in the middle of my sentence, and I broke down into wheezy giggles. “Cohoholt- OKAHAY I’m sorry for tickling you!”
“Compelling apology,” he said nonchalantly.
“So why aren’t you STOHOPPING?!”
Colt began to torment my upper back, clawing and massaging at my shoulder blades—between them, around them, under them. He dipped into my armpits every so often. I screeched in ticklish agony.
“Just doing it for the love of the game, bro,” Colt replied smugly.
“OKAHAY okay come OHOHON, tell me what you want and stop alreheheady!”
“Hmm…” Colt drew it out smugly. “I want you to…”
“JESUS CHRIST, JUHUST TELL ME!!”
He slowed his fingers to a gentle skitter across my back. I settled into soft, snorting giggles again. “Fine. I want you to call me more often,” he said.
“Okahay, I will,” I promised.
He climbed off of me. “And I want you to be in my life more. And meet Jody.”
“I can do that,” I grunted, taking his offered hand and letting him pull me up. “Launch is in a month. After that, I’ll be much more available.”
He pulled me in for a hug. We hadn’t done that in a while. I found myself melting into it, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his shoulder.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” Colt said. His voice was so fragile it could shatter.
“I will,” I mumbled.
“I’m serious,” he said. “I don’t want to find you in the state I found you today.”
I pulled back and we started walking back to his jet. “What state is that?”
“Sleep-deprived. Stressed out. Sad.”
I made a punched-out noise. “Jeez.”
“It’s true.”
I shrugged. “It’s a demanding job.”
“So is stunt acting, but you don’t see me doing my stunts without safety gear.”
We reached his jet. He took my face in his hands.
“What’s this?” I gestured at the weird embrace situation.
“Just shut up and listen,” Colt rolled his eyes. “Be careful. Good luck with the launch.”
I nodded slightly. “Thanks.”
He patted my cheek lightly. “I love you,” he said, unexpectedly.
We both stood there a moment, surprised.
I squeezed his hand three times in reply. I love you.
He started walking towards the jet. Before he got in to the passenger seat, he pointed a stern finger at me. “Eat your fucking carbs, man, your brain runs on glucose,” he shouted over the roar of the jets.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
There was a lump in my throat as his jet took off. I turned to walk back to my trailer.
Thanks for that one, Stratt.
***
I caught the beanbag one more time and took a deep breath before getting up.
Hi hiii! I dunno if you'd do it, but since rqs are open.. would you do any bloodymary tkl stuff? (Bloodymary being the ship between phm Grace and Simon iron lung) :3
Preferably lee Simon but idc really ^^
If you don't do bloodymary art and stuff then I'd also take lee Rocky <3 /nf
I'm new here hehe :3
If you wanna age check me or something my tkl blog is @moonlitlaughter ^^ Fully sfw :D Just want you to be as comfortable as possible w my interaction ^^
ok fun fact i only just watched iron lung on the youtube release date and its SO good . big fan .. i also really like bloodymary lol. hope u enjoy!!
pt2
and i cant decide whether i like the colored or uncolored version more so. sketch under the cut :)
op is a minor, please keep in mind when interacting!
When Ryland Grace is given the opportunity to teach on Erid, an elderly geology professor is asked to help bring that opportunity to life. Equal parts excited and nervous to meet the alien savior of their planet, they place him on a pedestal as a mythic, legendary being.
That pedestal begins to crack through a series of meetings, heartwarming conversations, a surprising display of immaturity, and one fascinating discovery: humans are ticklish. Who knew?
Author's Note: I did it! It's been over 13 years since I’ve written fanfiction, and this was perhaps a bit ambitious for easing back into it lol. This is a first person POV, which I’ve never done, and it's also from a POV of a character I made up, rather than a canon one. Worry not though, they merely serve as an observer and narrator of Grace and Rocky's shenanigans (though I have grown a bit fond of them). I HC that all Eridians use they/them, thus thats what the professor uses for Rocky, while Grace uses He/Him when referring to Rocky bc thats just what he’s used to.
———
“Savior Grace has expressed an interest in teaching,” says Shale, the president of the university’s executive board.
I put down some sediment samples I was planning to show my graduate students. “Oh? I think that’s a fantastic idea. Many of our students would jump at that chance, even several of mine.”
“I agree,” Shale replies. “That’s why I’m gathering the board, and plan to go to Savior Grace's home to discuss details.” They turn their carapace to focus on me more. “I’d like you to come as well, if you're able.”
There’s a tone in their voice that sounds almost pleading. I’m no longer on the board, but I was once the president myself, when I was younger. Shale was once a graduate student of mine, and is the youngest president the university has seen. They are a very intelligent Eridian and do the job exceptionally well, despite their age, but I know they sometimes worry about their performance. They often come and ask me for advice.
“Of course I’ll go, if you want me. I don’t know if I’ll have much input over the curriculum, as I recall Savior Rocky mentioning Savior Grace is a molecular biologist. But I’ll offer my support where I can.” I can’t say that meeting an alien doesn't also intrigue me greatly.
To say Savior Grace's arrival caused a tizzy would be the understatement of the century. The ‘Taumoeba’ he and Rocky brought home was the solution to the astrophage crisis and saved our home from a tragedy. That’s cause for excitement enough, but Savior Grace being an alien from another star system? It’s not something I’d thought to ever see in my 574 years alive. The confirmation of the universe having other intelligent beings fills me with awe and a sense of wonder that makes me feel decades younger.
His arrival also brought on the second biggest thrum the planet has seen. Around this time my mate was suggesting I retire, like they have, and close the long book of my time as a geologist and eventual professor. But the importance and allure of this thrum called to me, so I put off retirement in favor of attending, hoping my wisdom and experience could be of use.
It turned out that I could offer support, and used my background in geology to help find the perfect location where Savior Grace's biodome was built. Other teams of engineers and architects built his home, and we had more teams of scientists to develop nutritable food, and before long Savior Grace was thriving again. Thriving enough to pursue teaching! What an incredible opportunity for the university students, he must be full of much wisdom and knowledge.
———
Shale, myself, and the university board begin to travel to Savior Grace’s home. I am definitely feeling my age now; my joints are stiff and I move slower than my companions as we near the biodome. I can almost hear the sound of my mates teasing in my mind, saying things like ‘See? Bet you regret not retiring now, you old geezer!’
The thoughts of my mate help distract me from my mounting nervousness for a moment. Well, nervous was not exactly the feeling, and neither was excitement, though that was closer to it. It’s hard to describe; I’ve only heard information about Savior Grace through others, and he simply feels like science fiction come to life. Ultimately, I feel overawed at the prospect of being in the same space as a living legend.
Finally, we all make it inside the biodome and into one of the various meeting locations inside it. Savior Grace quickly stands up from his seated position at our arrival, and he is very tall. I’m close enough now to hear all the details of his strange anatomy. And standing beside him is Savior Rocky, what a pleasant surprise!
Savior Rocky greets me before I can address the two of them.
“Ah, Professor! I didn’t know you would be here as well. It’s so good to hear you!” They lower their two front legs and tip their carapace downwards; it’s a formal bow, usually reserved for elders, especially learned ones. I didn’t expect it, but it is no less appreciated. Rocky was always very respectful towards me.
“The same goes for you, Savior Rocky,” I reply. “I want to say, I’m so proud of you and all you’ve accomplished since being in my classroom.”
They let out a short, staccato-y laugh. “You don’t have to call me that, Professor, just Rocky is fine. And I can’t take all the credit—Grace did just as much, if not more, during our mission.” They lean their carapace into Savior Grace's legs.
Savior Grace turns his head towards me, and the folds on his face stretch and upturn. What a peculiar body language, I hope it means something good.
“Wow, it’s an honor to meet one of Rocky's teachers!” He says. I don’t speak his strange language but the translator we brought works wonderfully. Then, Savior Grace bends at the middle, lowering his head. This must be his version of a bow! The alien savior of our planet is showing respect to me. I feel something in me loosen. It is difficult to reconcile such a humble gesture with the larger-than-life figure I've been imagining.
“Rocky is an incredible engineer, you’ve taught him well,” Savior Grace continues.
I trill a short laugh myself. “Thank you, Savior Grace, but I’m afraid I only taught them a basic geology 1 course. Rocky's engineering skills are credited to their other professors and Rocky’s own genius.”
“Oh!” He exclaims. “I understand. Well, it’s still very nice to meet you.” He uses one hand to grip his opposite arm, and does a small shuffle in place. A gesture of shyness, perhaps? “And you don’t have to call me Savior as well, Professor,” he continues. “I was just doing what needed to be done.”
I whir a low, contemplative note. “I suppose that is true, though please know your efforts are much appreciated. I will heed your request, Grace.” His facial folds upturn once again and now bare the bones inside.
It is then that Shale walks up next to me, and the rest of the board behind them.
“Ah! Apologies, we have things to discuss. This is Shale, the president of the university’s executive board, and the board members.” I say.
“Pleasure to meet you, Savior Grace, and you as well, Savior Rocky,” Shale says warmly. Grace nods his head to Shale, and lightly nudges Rocky with his leg when they trill a quiet, amused note at the honorifics that they seem stuck with. “We look forward to having you teach at the university. I understand your background is in molecular biology; would you like to teach this subject, or perhaps another one?”
“Oh, uh…” He hesitates, and does another shuffle. “Actually, I was hoping to teach children, if that’s alright. Back on earth, that was actually my job, and I miss it a lot.”
Huh, I wasn’t expecting that but it no less has me charmed. I think it’s a much more noble cause for one’s dream to teach children, and guide the future generations. And even so, that’s not even why Grace wants to do it (well, perhaps that is a small factor). He simply misses it; it is such an ordinary and personal answer that it further cracks the mythic image I have of Grace.
Shales carapace lowers slightly, disappointed. They quickly recover though, schooling their body language into one of nonchalance. “I understand… I believe we can work something out, no worries. I’ll have to bring those in charge of adolescent education, and we can discuss with them.” They perk up slightly, “and if you ever did want to visit the university and perhaps speak about your experiences a bit, I’m sure our students would love it.”
Grace lets out a sound that is high pitch and airy, and his facial folds again upturn. It doesn’t sound like any of the words I have been hearing, so I assume this is what his laughter sounds like, and the facial folds upturning must mean something good if it accompanies it. “Sure!” He says, “I don’t know what I’d say, but I am very curious about what an Eridian university looks like!”
———
The next few weeks flew by. Shale, Grace, and the adolescent education board met often to discuss all the aspects that go into him teaching. Rocky attended occasionally. I attended the meetings too, not that my advice was needed all the time, but more so I found myself growing fonder of Grace.
More often than not I would stay after the various meetings and chat with him. We bonded over various scientific subjects, discussing our respective cultures, or even ordinary everyday things. He confirmed that the bright, airy sound was indeed laughter, and over time I began noticing more of his little habits. He fidgeted often—bouncing a leg while thinking and twirling his glasses between his fingers while speaking. He would ask after my mate and our many grandchildren, and I would inquire about the friendships he was forming here. Slowly, during the course of our conversations, I felt my sense of awe dim, and the feeling of equalness grow.
Now, there was just one last meeting to attend, and I honestly did not know why we were having it. All the details have been settled; the curriculum chosen, the students selected, and the classroom built beautifully (Rocky had insisted upon taking the reins on that front). Yet Ted, a middle-aged and, in my opinion, slightly pretentious Eridian on the board, had insisted upon one final meeting. Naturally, they were the one leading it as well.
I’m unsure how many of us gathered are actually paying attention at this point. Ted has been droning on for well past the typical length we meet for, and my attention has definitely been slipping. Grace, for his part, seems to be following along—nodding his head occasionally, and is the picture of professionalism. He answers the questions Ted poses with politeness, even if these questions have already been answered in prior meetings. But it’s clear to me that he is getting bored, as I’ve come to know the signs. Now, he's twirling his glasses in his fingers, which isn’t abnormal for him, but his head is angled downward as well. With his light receptors focused on the glasses, I know his attention certainly isn’t on Ted.
Ted, however, seems blissfully unaware of Grace's waning interest, and drones on. Even Rocky, who’s sitting beside Grace, is absentmindedly drawing lazy shapes in the dirt.
I attempt to bring my attention back to Ted, who hasn’t paused in their speech for awhile now. I'm thinking to myself that I have to at least give Ted credit for their passion on this when I notice Grace shift in the edge of my perception. My attention slips from Ted again as I focus on him instead.
He's stopped twirling his glasses and is sitting up straight and rigid now, which doesn’t appear comfortable at all. For a brief moment I wonder if Ted has said something to upset him, but no, they're still rattling on about the same topic.
A moment later I notice more movement; Rocky lifts their claw and jabs it gently into Grace’s fleshy side. I can’t imagine why they would do that, especially when it makes Grace even more rigid and his grip tightens on his glasses a fraction.
My confusion only grows as Rocky starts repeating the motion, aiming jabs at Grace’s side that start low but slowly climb up his body. Each jab is accompanied by a twitch and Grace getting even stiffer. When Rocky reaches the crease where Grace's arm meets his body, Grace takes in a sharp breath and starts leaning away from his friend.
Is Rocky hurting him? The touch is so light, it would barely register with an Eridian, but perhaps humans are different. Even so, I find it hard to believe Rocky would intentionally harm Grace, but maybe they don’t realize what they're doing.
I should say something, and I’m about to, when Rocky changes tactics. Instead of jabbing, they begin tracing repeatedly over the area where Grace’s arm meets his body, the same shapes they were tracing in the dirt moments before.
Grace’s mouth forms a smile. I have learned what both the anatomy and behavior are called during our chats and that it means amusement, but I do not understand why he is smiling if the touch bothers him. Maybe he doesn’t actually mind, but that still wouldn’t explain why he's leaning away, and now grabbing at Rocky’s claw with his hand.
Suddenly, Ted, who I’ve almost forgotten about, pauses their blabbering and turns towards Grace. “And what do you think, Savior Grace?”
“Huh—What?” Grace says, suddenly put on the spot and lets go of Rocky’s claw. He fidgets in place before replying unsteadily. “Oh. Uh, yes that’s all very good. Great.”
“Wonderful!” Ted says and goes right back into their lecture. Rocky chips a small laugh, and continuing the pattern, goes back to poking at Grace.
Grace’s twitching unfolds into full on squirming, and another smile tugs at his lips, seemingly against his will, if the way he bites it to keep it from growing is any indication.
“Rocky!” Grace whispers so the translator can't pick up his speech. “Stop tickling!” I’ve gotten to learn many English words at this point, but I don’t recognize this last one. I decide Grace and Rocky are infinitely more interesting than our meeting currently and resign myself to fully pull my attention away from it to instead study the two of them.
Rocky’s changing their strategy once again. Now they have a hand fully resting on Grace’s side, and are slowly and randomly squeezing it. Grace has his lips firmly pressed together but despite his efforts he's wearing a large, strained smile. Another firm squeeze higher up on his torso has a hand slapping over his mouth, and his shoulders start shaking. I’ve learned that happens a lot when he laughs, however I hear no laughter.
Wait a moment…
A hypothesis is forming in my mind that is immediately confirmed when Rocky sneakily adds a second hand, quickly using both to suddenly and rapidly squeeze hard, and then pull away just as quickly. It makes Grace let out one muffled but high-pitch laugh, and his glasses fall from his other hand and into the dirt.
Images of my grandchildren enter my mind, giggling and wrestling on the floor of my home, knocking their knuckles against each other's carapaces roughly. These two highly respected and intelligent adults are tickling each other like children. During a meeting. It’s a comparison that puts the final nail in the coffin of my old perception of Grace. Gone is the image of history in physical form. In its place stands this version of Grace: simply a person. Someone who loves equal parts learning and teaching. Someone I consider a friend and colleague. Someone who is struggling to suppress laughter while Rocky relentlessly exploits a weakness.
Technically, this is inappropriate for a meeting, and I should put a stop to it. Yet my disapproval never quite materializes. My changed perception of Grace, combined with the fascinating realization that humans can be ticklish—and that Grace is rather susceptible—proves far more compelling. I’ll allow these playful antics, for now.
Ted takes this moment to tilt their carapace back towards Grace and I wonder if they're going to address the silliness unfolding during their meeting.
“—And I think the only logical unit to follow the geology subject would be the earth science subject. What are your thoughts, Savior Grace?” Ted says. Ah, it seems they actually haven’t noticed the laughter or the fact that Grace's professionalism is unraveling before them.
“Uh–um!” Grace responds, and his voice is an octave higher than it normally is. He clears his throat and goes to try again, but is distracted when Rocky picks up Grace’s fallen glasses and places them in his lap. I suppose that’s meant to be a friendly gesture, but it’s significantly undercut by Rocky then placing that hand on Grace's knee, and the man in question tenses visibly. It seems that must be a sensitive spot, and Rocky knows it.
“Th–thahat—!” Grace tries again but cuts himself off with a cough in an attempt to mask the titters poking through his last shreds of decorum. Rocky is using a strong grip to randomly pinch at the knee joint, and it makes Grace's leg jerk each time.
“That sounds p–perfect, Ted. I have—hah!” Another laugh escapes, and he takes his hand and clamps it over his friends where it tickles his knee. “Uh, I have no—heh! No n–notes!” That last part rushes out through a wheeze, and he's trying to nonchalantly pull Rocky’s hand off that effective tickle spot to no avail. The smile on his face is wobbly as he attempts to suppress it, but that effort fails too.
Ted chirps a quick “Great!” and resumes talking.
Eventually Rocky takes mercy, in a way. They remove the hand from Grace's knee and go back to tormenting his side, again tracing teasing shapes along his skin. This seems more manageable to Grace, who now only lets out soft huffs here and there, squirming significantly reduced.
I can’t help but notice that Grace isn’t trying that hard to stop this, truly. Yes, he's muffling his laughter, squirming and leaning away, but he could easily scooch away and out of Rocky’s reach. No, he's having fun. They both are.
The fun continues as Rocky moves spots again. They make their touch even lighter and resume their shape tracing but around Grace's neck and ears. Grace lets out a full on squeak, and clamps both hands over his mouth while his shoulder crashes up to protect that area. That does nothing to deter Rocky, who’s now chittering quiet giggles at their friends' reactions and continues teasing that area. This is a very ticklish spot; even with both hands over his mouth it can't stop the high pitch giggles from leaking through Grace's fingers.
His whole torso is now shaking with the effort to contain the building mirth, and his smile must be very large under his hands because it makes his eyes and nose scrunch. The giggles are so high pitched it reminds me of my youngest grandchildren’s coos and nonsensical babble while they're learning to talk. It’s adorable.
But the fun has to end eventually; this is still an ‘important’ meeting after all. The blatant noise and commotion now coming from Rocky and Grace's side of the meeting is making Shale shift beside me, as well as a few of the other board members. I suspect Shale's known for a bit what’s been occurring, they’ve always been very perceptive.
Shale’s tapping one of their claws gently against the ground, the only sign of their disapproval. Yet, they don’t say anything to correct Grace and Rocky. Who are they to scold the saviors of the planet?
I don’t have such qualms, not anymore.
I stand up a little straighter and gently raise my voice. “Colleagues, if we could please give Ted our attention while they close out this meeting?” That last part was directed at Ted too, a sign to please hurry up.
Rocky snaps their hand back to their own space. I actually hear Grace's heart skip a beat as he inhales sharply and scoots a respectable distance away from his friend. It's so reminiscent of my grandchildren, so I can't be truly upset.
They both mutter out similar versions of an apology, though Grace sounds more embarrassed while Rocky sounds considerably less sorry. The two of them sit still and attentive for the rest of the meeting.
———
Ted finally finishes their speech and the meeting ends. Some board members approach me with a final remark or two about the project, and I say a quick farewell to Shale. In the distance, I hear Grace slap Rocky's arm gently and hiss out “Dude! You embarrassed me in front of the team!”
Rocky only laughs and replies, “What, It was funny!” which only makes Grace grumble more. “Besides, they were just as bored as you were,” they tease.
It’s time I join in on the fun. I move over to where they are and say teasingly, “I assume you’ll approach your lessons with a bit more maturity than your students, right Grace?”
Grace tilts his head down sheepishly and smiles softly. “Of course, Professor. So sorry about that. That was childish of me.” He glances down at Rocky, who goes to lean against his legs again as if they hadn’t caused any mischief at all.
“Of both of us,” Grace amends. He gives Rocky a gentle shove with his leg to remove them. It makes Rocky chirp out a short laugh instead.
I hum a low note that has an edge of laughter. “I mostly jest, Grace. It was entertaining to watch, if not fascinating as well. I didn’t know humans could be ticklish; we should definitely discuss this more during one of our little chats.”
Grace uses a hand to rub the back of his neck and stumbles a bit over his next words. “R-right. We can do that, Professor.”
“I’d be happy to provide a demonstration any time, Professor!” Rocky adds helpfully.
Grace gives them a proper shove this time.
———
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions. I crave feedback lol. and I also love just casual chats as well <3
also bonus brownie points to the person who guesses where I got the name Ted from for the pretentious eridian lol
summary: first part of potentially a series 👀 in which rocky and grace argue over which of them is more of an evil deadly monster. they're both space orks.
note: i need all the fics about the differences in their evolution stat. i love the hunting trope (ambush vs persistence) so much, i think it's such a fun idea.
I'm really confused.
The Hail Mary is not a big ship. It took me less than 20 minutes to explore every room after I first woke up - and that's with having forgotten to walk after not moving a muscle in over four years. Just 20 minutes.
I've been looking for Rocky for over two hours now.
"Rocky?" I call out into the dormitory that I've already checked three times.
I frown with my hands on my hips.
We both have our days when we really need our own space. For the most part, we'll usually respect it and leave the other be as well as we can, but in living quarters this small and with a roommate who can hear through walls, me-time is always more of a we-time. Surprisingly, it hasn't been too bad. We both know what the alternative is like, and I think that's given us enough perspective to not just be tolerant of each other's constant presence, but straight up clingy for it. Even this late in the game. So I'm beginning to feel small-to-medium amounts of disturbed. I might not be able to see through walls, but I've never had trouble finding him before-
"What the-!"
I snap my head around, eyes bouncing from spot to spot. I feel the hairs of my neck stand and the flesh of my arm pimple with goosebumps.
There's nothing there. Nobody there. No Rocky there. Rocky is the only person who could be on the ship. Heh.
"Okay, buddy. If you're trying to mess with me because of what I said, I'm sorry! It's not gonna work!" I call out, trying my best to keep my voice from betraying the unease I feel in my gut. I feel like I'm being watched.
Before his sudden disappearance, Rocky and I had a bit of a discussion over who, in our scenario, would be the horrific monster alien that poses an extinction threat to the other's species, and who would be the chum. We've tallied up the points so far and learned the terrifying histories of each other's evolution and special adaptations. It got more and more heated as we tied in counter with each other over and over. I'd win the balancing on one foot contest, he'd win the 'has five legs and has no need for stupid balance' contest. So on and so forth.
After a few hours of this, my blood was up. I (cockily) suggested performing a live demonstration of a perfect monster for him when we touch down on Erid. I may have said something about getting the entire Eridian race under my squishy and opposable thumb. Starting with Rocky's mother.
So now Rocky's missing. For the first hour, I worried I took it a step too far. Maybe your mom jokes are a line you just don't cross in Eridian culture, and I offended him so badly he took his new EVA suit out through the airlock because of how much space he needed from me. But now, I'm pretty sure he's messing with me. Because I've felt him watching me for a while. I just don't know where from.
It's really quiet on the ship. I've never known Rocky to be light-footed, and it's starting to get unbearable not being able to hear him. I'm about to ask Mary to start singing for me when-
All of the lights suddenly turn off, with Mary's voice piercing through the silent darkness. "Automatic lighting disabled."
Mm no. I hate this. "Uh, no no no. Lights back on, please?"
"Automatic lighting disabled. Manual override required." Her voice is so much louder in the dark.
"Manual-" I huff. "How am I supposed to manually override if I can't see anything?"
"The manual override is located in control-"
"Yes, Mary, I know." My voice wobbles in steadily growing terror. I slowly feel my way across the dormitory before I stop suddenly in the doorway - the long, black corridor in front of me.
Rocky is in the control room. That's how he did all this fudgery with the lights. My heart picks up speed, and my nerves assure me that something (Rocky! Rocky is the only other person on this ship!) will attack if I go up there. Gulp.
I back up a bit from the doorway, turning over my options in my head - which is working in significant overtime. I feel sweaty looking down the corridor, but I refuse to take my eyes off it.
Rocky is currently in the control room, but he switched the lights off like this on purpose. He knows how useless I am in the dark. And he can see through walls, so he knows exactly where I am right now and there would be no purpose in hiding. He's probably on his way to me right now, and I'm defenseless. Unless he's already at the end of the corridor just staring at me.
I squint down the corridor. Do I see his figure at the end of it? Well, whatever I'm seeing, it looks nothing like him. Too big, too still, too wrong.
My thoughts are starting to drift into stupid territory and my mind is playing tricks on me. I try to shake it off, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants and taking deep breaths. I know he's trying to scare me, so it's stupid that it's actually working. Rocky is my best friend. He's not a monster. He'd never really hurt me-
I hear the rapid sound of footsteps charging towards me from the end of the corridor. I scream, scrambling backwards as fast as I can. It's not fast enough. A shrieking invisible thing tackles me and I brace for-
A pillow softens the blow to my head from the ground. Once all my scream putters out, I wheeze from where Rocky is squeezing me tightly.
"Wh-whhhyy.." I gasp pathetically.
"Grace get too cocky. Needed to teach a lesson," Rocky's cheery, friendly voice chirps. It does good for soothing the terror bells still ringing through my head and body. So does the squeezing. "You were sooo scared. Did not know heart can get that fast!" he sings in joy.
"Ugh, whatever! I wasn't that scared," I grunt, trying to wriggle my arms free from the death hug. I can't help the small smile that forms in my relief. "I was more afraid that you were actually mad at me."
He titters at me. "You're lying. You're scared even now. Your body-nerve-system still think I will eat you," he shimmies his carapace onto my stomach, and I grunt and tense at the nuzzling. "Maybe will. Show who is the better monster."
"Ew!" I start to laugh stupidly - the energy built up from all the terror needing to be released somehow. "No, please! At least kill me first. Or start your process over there. Away from me."
My body-nerve-system has taken over and is wiggling uncontrollably, trying to avoid his consistent nuzzling. "Pf- stop it!" I snort.
"Why, question? Thought Grace not scared." He wiggles more emphatically.
"Ah- I'm not!" My knees knock against Rocky's back as my body tries and fails to curl in, my stomach feeling more sensitive the more he moves. "I'm worried your biology is going to take over and unload on accident, thinking it's dinner time. Okay- Rhhoc- hehehe- quuuit it!" I whine, embarrassed about not being able to hold back my giggling. He's doing this on purpose.
He trills a noise of offense. "You are disgusting. That could never happen. Eridians too dignified. Ripping apart prey must always come first." He moves my arms away from my body just enough to tickle my sides and, despite expecting it, I explode.
"AGH- No! hAhahaha!!" I can never really talk when he does this. What I'm trying to say is, no! hey! get off! but unfortunately all I can manage to get out is convulsive giggling. My arms snap in over and over to protect my sides, but they're blocked by his rock hands. I only succeed in bruising myself a little.
"Don't laugh," he says while laughing himself. "encourages hungry-feeling!"
Ugh. I never win this challenge. I hold my breath, clench everything, and put every ounce of willpower I have to try and contain my giggles. Surprisingly - still squirming and with my eyes squeezed shut - I almost manage it! Until Rocky moves further up into my ribs. I whimper and fall back into hysterics.
I try to flop around to deter his hands (too many hands!!! too many hands!!) but my torso can't move at all under his FAT body. My legs are free to kick in and out as much as they want at least, but it doesn't do anything to stop him either. I can't stop it.
I continue to strain, but my head falls back in resignation as I laugh. I regret it immediately. The position turns a desperate intake of breath into the loudest snort ever. Rocky stops then, but I hardly feel relief from it - he only stopped because he's laughing at me so hard that now he can barely breathe.
"G-gett offff..." I gasp through giggles. His laughter is making him shake over my stomach again, and I'm so hypersensitive that I can't stand it. I squirm to no avail.
"♫♪what♫noise♪♫♪~~!!" He dissolves back into his amusement without finishing his sentence. I burst out into full belly laughter again despite the heat in my cheeks. His giggles are so contagious. And his vibrations are still tickling me down to the bones. I think I might die. Atleast I'm taking Rocky down with me.
Mercifully, Rocky climbs off me after a minute. His legs are weakening from laughter and he doesn't want to crush me for real. I curl up the second I'm able to in a way-too-late reaction to preserve my vital organs from tickle torture.
"I see now," he giggles. "Sensitivity is good defense. You become so funny, nothing can eat you. Predators too busy laughing."
"Please be quiet," I groan. I take a steadying breath. "Alright, I admit it. You're scarier out of the two of us. You ticked all the boxes that scare humans the most. Silence, darkness, surprise attacks. You'd definitely be able to take over humanity before I can take over Erid. Your mom would destroy me."
"No," he sighs through his vents, and I frown in confusion. Rocky's not one to reject a win. "Grace scary too. Stealth is part of Eridian nature. Know how to stay silent. Not detectable," he shudders. "You detect anyway. Almost catch me many times with crazy light detectors. Scary."
I smile incredulously. Fascinating! "So, all that just for us to tie again?"
"Grace winning for now, actually. We move ticklish from weakness to strength," I gape at him, but he cuts me off. "Serious about good defense. Funny, funny, funny."
"What- that's not- it's.." I stutter helplessly. "You're ticklish too! You know what, I'm hunting you next time."
"Grace not stealthy. Cannot ever surprise Rocky."
"Humans don't hunt our prey like that anyway. We just keep following them until they get too tired to keep running," I lean in as Rocky shies away. "We get them in their sleep, you know. When they're the most vulnerable. You might hear me coming, but you won't be able to stop me."
"♫♪!" he shakes his carapace like he's snapping himself out of it, then rushes me to start poking my sides and stomach.
"He-hey!!!" I giggle and push at him.
"Grace not trick me," he trills, but I swear I detect notes of relief when he hears me laugh again. "Can not scare me. Grace is best friend. You are not monster."
𖥔 Ngl this is purely a self-indulgent Simon fic. Ticklish Simon is rotting my brain and this is what has come of it. Not all that much plot, more just Rocky tickling him to pieces! I will note that I do headcanon Simon opening up to Rocky quicker to Grace (at least for this fic specifically) and I feel like that's not as popular but I do still hope you enjoy and that I also hc Simon to be one of the most touchy clingy people known to man! Ik ik a bloodymary fic with no bloodymary in it, sue me i just want Simon tickled! Oh also Rocky will refers to Simon's gills as vents bc to Rocky thats exactly what they are and also giving them something in common outside of Grace is cute, i wasn't sure if that would have caused an confusion! It was a fun and cute dynamic to mess with! 𖥔
𖥔 Slight spoilers for movie and book! 𖥔
Summary: Simon asks Rocky and simple question about why he treats Grace the way he does.
Ler!Rocky/ Lee!Simon
Word count: 5,250
“R-Rocky?” I startle a little at the unexpected voice. This may be the first time he's actually muttered my name. My claws scratch at Grace's scalp and rub at his forehead as he sleeps.
“What, question?” The new human, Simon, is curled up on the floor not that far from the bed. I’m shocked; he’s hardly spoken since we found him around three human weeks ago.
When he’s not sitting and observing us in silence, he hides himself in a small storage room with some blankets Grace practically forced him to take. Grace always checks up on him whether Simon wants it or not. The only useful information we’ve gotten out of him is his name.
Grace is taking it harder than I thought he would. Unfortunately, I think he got his hopes up, finding another human and assuming they would be friends rather quickly.
I can't blame Simon for not being more open sooner. You can tell the other human has been through a lot. He is missing an arm, covered in scars and mutations, and his heart never seems to settle.
He hardly sleeps at all. I don’t know how he does it. Days will pass, his eyelids low and his movements sluggish, but he fights through it, and I thought Grace was bad when it came to staying up too much.
I hear him shift and groan in pain; his stomach growls constantly, but he only takes very little from Grace, whether it be food or pain meds. He all but knocked Grace out when he pulled him toward Armondo to help with his wounds and such.
But over the past week, he’s started making these little visits. He waits for me and Grace to settle ourselves in. I cuddle up with Grace, making him comfortable and ready to sleep. After about an hour, Simon slips into the dormitory, looking to see if Grace has succumbed to his exhaustion. Only then does he come in and lie on the floor by the bed.
This is the only time I’ve seen him sleep for more than an hour at a time, although he always seems to wake before Grace does and then leave for his closet as if nothing happened. I’m not going to complain; I can watch both humans more easily this way.
Why me and not Grace? I'm not really sure. Logic would dictate that in Simon's situation, choosing between another human and some alien he's never seen before, he should have picked Grace. I have a theory that something in his life has made him adverse to human interaction, so much so that his fear of humans trumps his fear of the unknown alien.
I’ve started leaving blankets and pillows on the floor for him. I know I’m treating him like some sort of animal, but I don’t know what else to do to help. I did offer the other two empty beds, which Grace would certainly not mind, but he prefers the floor. He curls up into a tight ball, tail held close. Close to the bed but not to close, just enough to see over the ledge at me and Grace.
“Why…why do you do that to Grace?” He shifts uncomfortably on the floor. His voice is low and gravelly and has a hint of something like frustration.
“What, question?” Confusion laces my voice as I turn my attention to Grace's sleeping body. I don’t seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary.
“All the touching. Babying.” He pauses for a moment and glances up at us. “He’s a grown man, and you pet and touch him.” He’s hiding his face behind his wavy hair, though it's as emotionless as ever.
It's incredibly hard to read him. Grace is so expressive; he moves his hands while he talks, and his face shows pretty much all his emotions he's feeling in real time. Simons sits still, maybe with a raised brow and always with a frown. His eyes stare deep into you, studying you and your movements. I don’t mind, but I think it makes Grace a little uncomfortable.
“Rocky love Grace. Obvious.” I troll out fondly, rubbing circles into Grace's temples. Grace shifts slightly more into me in his sleep, while Simon stays silent.
“Love?” he asks me back. It’s small and quiet.
“Rocky love Grace. Give my Grace love and comfort. Attention.” I feel myself get a little flustered, though I mean every word of it. Simon continues to stay silent for a moment, but he moves to sit up.
“I just—is it not weird?” He doesn’t sound upset but more confused. He lets out a faint, exhausted sigh, I'm sure from the constant anxiety and adrenaline flowing through him and the lack of sleep.
“No. What you do for loved one. Human also benefit from touch. Grace love pets. Rocky love taking care of Grace. Show Rocky care…. My Grace.” I coo softly at his sleepy face. “Grace sacrifice much for Rocky. Rocky will give anything if Grace ask.” I’m glad that Grace is out cold for this conversation; he would tease me about becoming all sappy on him.
He goes quiet, rubbing at the opposite side of his torso with his hand. His eyebrows knit together in thought. I decide it's best to try and keep this conversation going since this is the only time he's actually felt like speaking.
“Simon think it weird, question?” I ask, trying to get him talking again. Simon looks up and stares as I take a claw to run through Grace's soft hair.
He quickly looks away. “I don't know.”
“Simon don't know, question?” Simon can be very confusing. I hear his hand squeeze against his side. I'm pretty sure there isn't any serious injury there, at least not one I can hear.
“I didn't—we don’t really do that…where I'm from.” His permanent frown deepens as he looks back down into his lap. “I didn’t have someone to take care of me like that. I didn't have a ‘Rocky’.”
I feel myself soften at his words. No wonder he's been so hesitant to accept our help. I scoot away from Grace a bit so he can see me over the ledge of the bed better. He glances up, eyes showing he's incredibly worn out.
“Grace is lucky to have you.” His face is blank, but his words are almost pathetic. Personally, I think I'm lucky to have Grace. None of this would be even happening without him.
I think for a moment. I’m assuming there’s a reason the human wanted to ask these questions to begin with. One of the very few full conversations from him is about my affection towards Grace, which is definitely an interesting topic to pick first.
“Simon jealous of Rocky affection for Grace, question?” I ask amusedly. This simple question has gotten the most reaction I've seen out of the second human since he's been aboard this ship. His breath hitches, his heartbeat, although already racing, quickens in his chest, and I can hear the faintest of blood seep into his cheeks. The spined tail curled up around him stiffens and straightens out, the end flicking ever so slightly.
Very interesting.
He decides not to answer, so I ask some more questions. “This reason Simon stare at Rocky Grace, question? Watch affection, question?” I trill.
He fidgets with his shirt, one of Grace's stupid science pun shirts, and looks away but ultimately shakes his head, though I can tell he's lying. I hum and shift back into Grace's body. We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I can practically hear Simon thinking. His hand moves up to feel where his other arm was, rubbing the bandaged end.
“Simon want affection like Grace, question?” I cut through the silence. He's staring into his lap, heart beating out of his chest; he seems more scared than embarrassed.
“Uhm…” he swallows hard. “Uh–can…I-I don’t…” I stop petting Grace and move to stand. I scuttle the ledge and wait for the human to gather his thoughts. He quickly looks up at me, eyes wide, and stutters more.
“Breathe.” I hum soothingly. He swallows again but takes a shaky inhale; actually, his whole body seems to be shaking. I notice how he's curled in on himself, shoulders hunched, and he brings his chin to his chest.
“I don't know.” It comes out as if he's disappointed with himself that he couldn't quite ask for what he wanted. He frowns more, but his eyebrows are turned down in worry.
Again he sits in silence, thinking. I decided I'll be the one to save him from his own thoughts. Watching the push and pull on his brain, although amusing, makes me feel sorry for him.
“What if Rock want to give Simon affection and pet, question? Would Simon allow Rocky to show it care for Simon, question?” It's not him asking; it's me asking. I think that should help this whole dilemma he's having. He seems to perk up ever so slightly at the prospect.
“You care?” He sounds genuinely baffled by this thought. I kind of thought saying the words would make him relax, be happy even but he once again seems to brace himself for my answer. Like I was lying about it and was about to rip his hope right back out of his hands. Sure, we haven't interacted much, but that's more on him than on us. We've tried talking and making The Hail Mary as accommodating as possible, feeding him, and even bathing him when he first arrived soaked in what Grace said was human blood.
He just truly doesn't seem to trust us.
“Of course Rocky care.” His head lifts slightly as he glances in my direction. “Rocky know Simon go through a lot even if Rocky not know the details. Understand why Simon is the way Simon is. Different. Not bad. Confused and hurt. Understand why Simon want affection.” He shifts uncomfortably. The words that were meant to be comforting were clearly making him more tense.
“Can Rocky fix, question?” He takes a moment, rubbing at his own stomach. I’ve seen signs of touch starvation in Grace before too. This is why I made the tighter suit, specifically to help with this situation. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t also for my benefit and love for Grace as well.
He nods ever so slightly, like he's unsure himself if he's ready for this. I can't lie, his attempt at asking is and was adorable, but I keep that to myself. It’s refreshing to see something other than a scared animal fighting for its life. Something more human.
I climb off the bed and walk up to him. I stop as he freezes and backs up slightly.
“Rocky Simon go to other room. Let Grace sleep. Okay, question?” Although he doesn't smile at me, his face seems to relax back to the same stoic look.
We walk out together, the silence drowned out by his rapid heartbeat. There’s a pile of blankets and pillows we use when Grace and I watch movies together, and I let him take a seat.
“Where Simon want pet, question?” He's been so touch-adverse; I'm not really sure how to approach him without scaring him off, and I know he is particularly sensitive about the mutations around his body.
“Huh?” He's currently curled up on himself, hugging his legs up to his chest, his head off to the side. He seems shocked I even gave him the choice.
“Where Rocky start, question.” I gently ask. A small blush starts to creep up his neck.
“I-I don’t—I…” he shifts uncomfortably as his heartrate picks up again.
“Can Rocky try, question?” His eyes finally find me, and he gives a small reluctant nod.
I slowly approach, and although he does flinch, he doesn't move away. I take two claws and rest them on his knees. I feel the skin twitch under my touch.
“Simon straighten legs.” He hesitates. "Is okay." I wait patiently. Eventually he slowly uncurls. Slowly, he unwraps his arm from his knees and straightens them on either side of me. I settle myself between his legs, resting on his pelvis. He freezes at the pressure, his arm raised like he doesn't know what to do with it. Heart beating out of his chest, I decided to hold still, just letting him process that I'm here.
“Okay, question?” He nods, but his breathing has picked up. He looks terrified, shaking. His arm and legs are the only places with few to no mutations, so I decide to start there.
I push up the fabric of the shorts he's wearing, giving me more access to his thighs. I used my claws to lightly trace down his legs on either side of me, and I feel goosebumps take over his skin. Slowly, I pet up and down, circling his muscles like a massage. He sinks slightly into the touch but his eyes are wide and tracking my movements, like he's ready to pounce at any sign of danger. His arm lowers to his side, and I feel him lightly grab at one of my legs.
I let out a happy trill at the progress I've made with him tonight. His face relaxes, his eyebrows finally softening. He lets his eyes slowly fall closed, and he lets out a soft sigh. I can't stop the light giggles that come from me, and he quickly flicks his eyes back open, looking embarrassed.
“What?” He starts to frown at my reaction, which only makes me giggle more.
“Nothing. Simon just cute. Simon finally relax.” I hear a blush rush to his face, and he looks away, staring at nothing.
We sit in silence for 10 minutes before I feel the hand on my leg squeeze a few times softly. I stop my movements, worried I've gone too long and too far but I feel him sag instead.
“Don’t stop…” The words leave him so quietly I almost miss them. Simon's face immediately looks horrified, like the sentence escaped without permission. He tightly presses his lips together and frowns. He looks away for a moment and finally mutters, “...more please.” Happiness washes over me as he finally requests something for himself, even if it was small.
“Of course," I hum in acknowledgment. I remove my claws from his legs and carefully place a claw on his stomach but don't move it. He glances down at the touch, eyebrows furrowed together.
After getting no pushback, I slowly lift his shirt, exposing his injured flesh. I push it up to under his arm and get a clear look at the gills hiding underneath. It was hard to hear them with Grace's tight shirt over top, holding them all but closed against his skin, but now they sit open.
He's still, very still. I didn't know humans could be so still. It's then I realize he's holding his breath, and the hand on my arm grips tighter as if he's bracing for pain. I lower the claw to his stomach, opening it out flat and then slowly rub in a circle.
He jumps rather violently, and a small squeak comes from him. I quickly pull my claw away but notice the corners of his mouth twitch upward.
“Simon okay, question? Hurt, question?” I ask while placing my claw back down but once again holding it still. He flinches at the touch again and squirms slightly.
“N-no. I'm okay.” I take a second claw, placing it on the other side of his tummy, and start scratching, and his reaction is immediate.
“Ah-wahait—!” He slaps his hand over his mouth, and I probably should stop because he did ask to wait, but I'm curious about how he's going to react. He squirms from side to side, and his legs kick out next to me with his eyes squeezed shut.
“Simon ticklish, question?” Amusement laces my voice. He shakes his head feverishly, his hand holding in as much laughter as it can. I go back to rubbing softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.
“Hmhmhm!” Little hums start coming from him; I see his arm straining to stay by his mouth and not shoot down. Puffs of air flutter from his vents as his laughter strains in his chest.
The one thing I really take notice of is his ear. Well maybe not really an ear anymore; rather, his little fin, where his ear should be, finally stops drooping and unfolds up. It’s crazy; I thought the downward swoop of the fin was just how it looked, that it didn’t or couldn’t move but seeing it up and flared out in giddiness makes me all the more happy myself.
“Simon lie.” Trills come from me as he just shakes his head more. His eyes peek open at me. “Rocky help Simon and Simon lie. Ungrateful.” I joke as I go back to scratching, and he lets out a little squeal. He’s very adorable when he’s not trying to kill you or figure out if you’ll kill him.
Finally, his hand shoots down, grabbing at mine. He’s biting his lip, unusually pointy teeth sticking out the corners. A goofy smile spreads across his face; he’s desperately trying to stop it.
“R-Rohocky!” Giggles finally spill from his lips. They're low and stifled, but they're there. He almost sounds like he’s in pain, like he’s not sure he’s allowed or should be laughing, trying to keep it all in.
And that’s when I hear it.
A soft thudding from behind him. His tail is wagging against the blankets.
Oh that’s adorable.
“Simon like tickles, question?” I coo teasingly at him and still my movements. “Simon like tummy rub, question?”
“Wha—noho.” What a little liar. He looks at me with a flustered but confused expression, forcing a frown back on his face. ”You do that to Grace too," he grumbles.
I pause. "Simon notice, question?” I tease him since he gave himself away and I hear a cringed expression take over his features, clearly regretting what he said.
“Simon tail move.” My carapace shifts closer to his middle as I feel the vibrations from the wagging.
“Huh?” And I stay silent, letting the soft thumping of his tail tell us both his real feelings about the situation. And just like that, it stops moving. He suddenly hides his face in his elbow and leans onto his back against the pillows, trying to roll over but failing with me on top.
“I…I didn’t know it did that.” Simon is making me think that my idea that Grace is just an endearing person is wrong and that it might just be a trait of the human race as a whole.
“Grace like tickles also. Simon not need to be embarrass about tickles.” I try to reassure him, but he just shakes his head like he can’t accept that information.
“Simon want Rocky to stop, question?” He just stays silent. I hear his blood pooling in his face. Although Grace also likes to hide when embarrassed, he never just shuts down from it. Grace is momentarily flustered, while Simon seems to be unable to stand it. Being vulnerable appears to be rather difficult for him and I guess admitting you like or want something is the hardest thing Simon can do.
I find him very amusing. Deliberately ignoring Grace and me when we have tried to speak to him. Trying to put up this stone-cold act while wanting affection this whole time. I assume he did it in an 'If they're scared of me, they won’t hurt me’ type of way, but to fold when the two creatures you're stuck with end up being cuddle bugs and you start yearning for it while observing them is rather funny but also sad.
I understand why he probably finally broke. Grace and I are so touchy. For Simon, who admits that he isn’t used to affection, the thing he wanted so bad probably seemed so easily tangible. The affection he wants is right there, all the time, just between me and Grace.
I remove my claws, and he just continues to lie there, hiding his very obviously blushing face and feelings. “This is stupid, I’m stupid." he mumbles into his arm.
“Why, question?” I felt like it was going so well, too. I'm not sure what flipped, maybe some confusing human reason. He decides to not answer me.
I take a digit and softly place it into his belly button. I scratch lightly at the skin as he lets out a startled squeal.
“EEEAHAhahahaAH—!” Shockingly he still continues to say nothing, preferring to laugh his head off instead. His hand shoots down and haphazardly feels for my claw.
“Simon must use words. Rocky cannot understand.” I push in a little more. I see him try to curl back up to a sitting position, but the pillows in the curve of his back and, I think, the fact that he’s missing an arm make him flop back down, twisting and turning.
I see his tail start to sway again, and I snicker. What a poor human. To have the emotions you find embarrassing on display because of a tail you did not ask for is tragic in an adorable way.
I push an arm under his lower back, pulling it back toward myself and forcing his tummy up. He flails at the feeling as I carefully dig into his lower back and scratch at the spines there.
“NAHAhahahe R-RohoHAHAHA—!!” I hear him try and get words out.
“Why Simon say Simon stupid, question?” His body gets stuck between arching away from the claws attacking his stomach and the one scribbling around his back.
“R-ROHOhocky *snrk* pft-hehehaHAHAH—!” His mouth tries to clamp shut, sputtering over his laughter, as his tail picks up speed.
“Very good Simon. Use words. What Simon want, question?” I tease him as I pull my claw out of the little hole. I instead trace circles around it, the muscles on his stomach twitching and tensing. I slow the claw on his back and softly rub there, soothing the skin, then take another and dig into the pudge along his tummy. He's less lean than Grace is and I think I prefer it that way; he's more squishy. Very cute that way.
His hand flies back up to his mouth, muffling his cute noises. My claw migrates to his hip and I place the other on the opposite side. I massage into the divot in his torso, feeling the bone. He bucks up with a screeching noise, his hand abandoning his face once again, desperate and clawing at me. He seems so ticklish everywhere.
“RohoHOCKHEHE—!! I-I’m gohoing tohoho wahahake GrahACE UP—ACKAHAH—!!!” He says this instead of just asking me to slow down. He is excellent at dodging the questions I keep asking.
“Simon better be quiet then. So loud.” I tease him, and he tosses his head back and cackles, pulling a deeper blush from him. Grace is fine; he can sleep pretty soundly, and I think I’m partly to blame. My constant fidgeting and tinkering with things as he sleeps, I think, has caused him to get used to sleeping through noise and after a week of sneaking into the dormitory when Grace is specifically sleeping, I know Simon is aware of this too. He's just making excuses at this point.
I rub slow, agonizing circles into his flesh as his head shakes from side to side, his curly hair a mess and his headband askew. He looks happy and giddy, something so different than he's looked his entire time here. I feel the urge to pull more sounds from him to make up for the past few months.
I move my claws upward, pinching along his sides. Each pinch pulls a little squeak from him and his laughter seems to get stronger the higher I move up. I finally reach right below the start of his vents and stay in the spot, digging in.
I notice his vents have closed themselves, which I find fascinating. His arm has pressed itself tightly against his side, trying to block my claw while his body twists to the right, trying to run from the side he can’t protect.
“NAHAHAT THEHEHERE *SNRK* —IHIHEHEHAHA—!!” His breathing starts to sound short and strained.
“Simon can ask Rocky to stop. Rocky will stop when asked.” I slow my movements to light squeezings on the lower bones of his ribs.
Although his face is beat red with a wide smile and small tears in his eyes, he somehow looks worried and surprised.
“Yohohou wihihill?” His voice is so high compared to normal, squeaky with laughter. The genuine shock in the way he asks makes me upset in an annoying way that eats at me.
I let out a frustrated hum, not specifically at him per se but the way he’s been programmed to think.
“Of course Rocky stop if Simon want tickles to stop. Simon just ask.” I dig in a little bit, making him flail in my hold. “Simon ask for anything. Rocky will try to give.” Trying to show that, yes, bodily autonomy is something he possesses and that, yes, he can ask for anything if he so pleases.
He sits there giggling to himself and I can tell he’s fighting with himself and it's adorable. To stop the affection he craves so much or fall deeper into it.
“Cahahan i-it juhust be a breheheak?” The question comes out in huffs. “Cahan you keep going a-after?” Joy floods through me at the question, and I feel a rush of warmth for him. Finally, acknowledging he wants more.
“Yes. Simon breathe." Happy trills come from me and I let my claws go still, just resting against his skin. I feel the rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. He sounds a little wheezy and his breathing is uneven. He eases his arm and rests his hand on his chest, a smile still plastered on his face.
“Simon. Use vents to breath. Easier and better. More air intake.” He looks at me with a dumb look and I point to his vents.
“O-oh. My gills. Okay.” The vents flutter open as he relaxes more. I hear as the air is sucked in and his breathing almost immediately seems to catch back up with him. His body melts onto the blankets and pillows, and he rests his eyes closed.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes when he speaks up. “You can um…start again—If you want to—AH!” I take the opportunity to grab his hand in mine and pull it up over his head. Before I get to even respond, he's grinning and squirming around, tail wagging behind us. I can't stop the amused hums that come from me.
I wiggle a claw over his underarms, slowly inching it closer, relishing in the giggles that start to spill from him. His eyes track me as I pull back slightly.
“Rohocky stohop.” I giggle and shoot my hand down to his skin and stop right before I touch. He squeaks and jerks hard but groans in annoyance. I once again pull back and slowly descend onto his skin, pulling more soft giggles from him.
I snake another arm to the other side of his body while he's distracted by my other claw and dig into the underarm he can't protect, making his legs kick out and what's left of his arm flail.
“ROHOhocky?! I-It tihiHICKLES!” I scratch at his other underarm and feel him strain against my hold, his pointy teeth showing again.
“Yes. Is point.” As I slow my movements. I decide to test my luck and gently start making my way down his body. I feel him tense as I reach the top gills along his sides. I glide a digit along the seam and he lets out a shrill screech. I open my claws on either side and hold them flat against all three vents on either side and give the whole area a few squeezes.
“NAHOHOHO *SNRK* WAITWAITWAHAHAIT AH-ROHOCKY—EEEAHAHAH—!!!” I let myself squeeze a few more times as he kicks and squeals. I finally let go while climbing off of him and he curls up on his side.
Tears stain his cheeks and his face is impossibly red. I run my claws gently over his back and head soothingly, feeling his breath. I try to flatten out his hair, brushing it out of his face.
I hear a low rumble come from him. The sound makes me freeze. Simon immediately notices and his eyes open.
“What?” It's like he doesn't notice it. It's soft and content. It tells me he's happy.
“Simon purr.” I excitedly trill.
His eyes go wide, then immediately squeeze shut in embarrassment. It's not the same purring Grace does in his sleep; "snoring" is what Grace called it. This comes from Simons chest, quiet and soft but there. I coo softly at the sound and how soft his features look now. He peeks open his eyes and stares at me, blood in his cheeks, as I wipe at his leaky face. After a few moments he sounds like he can breath again and I pull him up.
“Simon Rocky go back to Grace. Let Simon sleep. Rocky know Simon tiered.” He nods, still laughing softly. He lifts himself up on shaky legs and stumbles back toward the dormitory.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.
The next day Grace is explaining something about human culture to me. He's up at a whiteboard scribbling away as he rambles.
I heard Simon wake a few minutes ago. Even though I tried to get him to stay with me and Grace until Grace woke up, he ultimately wanted to go back to the closet. I hear him as he creeps out and towards our direction; I assume to observe us some more. I tune back into Grace's voice; it's excited and energetic. I can tell he misses being a teacher.
I'm pleasantly surprised when Simon plops down right next to me. I inch away on instinct, but he grabs a leg and pulls it into his lap. He starts trailing his fingers over the length of my arm, up and down.
Grace has gone quiet, staring with his mouth open in shock and awe. Simon stares back, getting noticeably more uncomfortable with the sudden attention on him. I make a short hum sound, snapping Grace out of his trance and he just looks over to me in bewilderment. I flick a claw, signaling him to keep teaching like nothing happened before he scares Simon off. He clears his throat and stutters over his first few words but turns back around to the board and continues his ramblings, a rather large smile growing on his face.
‘I-is this okay?” Simon whispers. I feel his hand tug at my closed claw and I open it for him.
“Yes. Is nice.” I feel him press his thumb into what would be my palm, rubbing in soft circles. He's shockingly gentle, even after all the wrestling we did the previous night. I worried he felt the need to ‘return the favor,’ and the petting is what this is about but I decided to stay quiet and not ruin the moment.
I see him tune into Grace's lesson, absentmindedly petting back up the length of my leg.
Ler!Grace, Lee!Simon (with a tiny bit of switch!simon)
Intended as a ship! Grace x simon
This idea came to me like a vision LOL, i dropped EVERYTHING to write it. i’ve been seeing the “tickling my husband for 15 seconds when he makes me mad” thing everywhere. Do you see the vision??
Summary: Grace struggles to make Simon believe he’s not mad at him. Both men learn a thing or two about healthy communication.
———
Grace bent over and picked up discarded bandages from the floor of the dormitory. It was the fourth time this week that he had found Simon’s dirty bandages lying around.
Grace sighed.
“What?” Simon asked, looking up from his journal.
“It’s nothing,” Grace muttered.
Simon rolled his eyes. “Stop it with the non-confrontational bullshit,” he replied.
“Okay, fine. It bothers me when you forget to throw away your bandages. It’s unhygienic,” Grace explained.
“Okay, just say that,” Simon said. “I’ll try not to do it.”
***
Simon kept his promise for a good week and a half. But he was prone to forget—head injuries from the SM-13 had made his memory a bit spotty.
Simon noticed the dirty bandages a second too late. Grace had already seen it.
“Si—”
“I know, I know,” Simon said, hurrying over to discard the bandages. “I just forgot. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Grace said, already moving on to the next chore.
“You’re so forgiving,” Simon grumbled, sitting down across from Grace.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, it’s like everything just rolls over you,” Simon explained. “It puts me on edge.”
Grace turned to look at him. “Why?”
“You should be mad!” Simon exclaimed, frustrated. “I’m used to being yelled at for dumb shit,” he added, more vulnerably.
Grace’s face softened considerably. He grabbed Simon’s hand. “I’m not gonna be mad at you for something so little,” he said. “Plus, you’re recovering from a head injury. It’s bound to happen.”
“No, don’t do that,” Simon whined.
“Do what?”
“Make that… face,” Simon replied, gesturing vaguely at Grace.
“What face?”
“Your teacher face,” Simon muttered, his cheeks reddening. “Like I could fucking do no wrong or something.”
Grace chuckled. “That’s not my teacher face,” he said. “It’s just my face when I look at you.”
Simon blushed redder. “No, nope, nuh-uh,” he deflected quickly. He pointed a stern finger at Grace.
”You’re gonna be mad at me,” Simon said authoritatively. “I don’t fucking know. Decide on a punishment and just get it over with.”
“A punishment?”
“Yeah, like… I’ll do all the laundry for a month, or…or I’ll watch Rocky sleep for you, or—”
“That’s silly, Si, you don’t need a punishment,” Grace scoffed. He started to turn away.
“I’m serious,” Simon said, his voice insistent. Grace turned back around and saw both the insecurity in Simon’s eyes and the determined set of his eyebrows. “Just think of something and then we’ll be even.”
“We don’t need to be ‘even,’ Si, we’re equals here—“ Grace started to say, but Simon was already walking off.
Grace chewed his lip. What kind of “punishment” could he give Simon that would make the man believe Grace wasn’t mad at him and that he didn’t need to worry so much?
***
Grace strolled into the dormitory with a cheeky smile on his face. Simon sat up, eyes expectant and a little nervous.
“I thought of something,” Grace said in a sing-song voice.
“What?” Simon asked anxiously.
“Relax,” Grace said, climbing into Simon’s bunk. “It’s nothing bad.”
“Just tell me.”
Grace pushed Simon down by the shoulders to lay on his back. He sat on Simon’s lap. “I’m gonna tickle you for 15 seconds.”
“What?” Simon flustered, going red again.
“It was a social media trend on Earth before I left,” Grace explained mischievously. “‘Tickling my husband for 15 seconds because he made me mad.’ Everyone was doing it.”
Simon blushed harder. “H-husband?”
“That’s what you’re focused on?” Grace chortled casually, setting his watch. He was too distracted to realize why Simon was hung up on that detail.
Simon had gone silent.
Grace looked up from his watch. “Wait, if you’re not okay with this, we don’t have to—“
“Just do it, Gracie,” Simon said through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” Grace grinned obliviously. “Put your arms above your head, then.”
Simon obeyed. Grace angled his wristwatch away from Simon so he couldn’t see that Grace was setting a stopwatch, and not a timer that would ring after 15 seconds.
“Are you ready?” Grace teased, wiggling his fingers over Simon’s belly. Simon flinched and Grace chuckled.
“G-get it over with.”
Grace started the clock and his hands immediately jumped to Simon’s sides.
“Shihihit- some warning?!” Simon exclaimed in protest, struggling to keep his arms up.
“Sorry not sorry,” Grace teased. For the first ten seconds, Grace kept his hands jumping from skittering all over Simon’s tummy to squeezing and pinching at his ribs.
“N-ahaha- Ahahangel I’m sohorry—“
“For what?”
The clock read 15 seconds as Grace moved his hands to skitter and rake into Simon’s open and waiting underarms. Simon’s arms strained desperately against nothing.
“FUHUCK- for forgetting stuff!”
Grace tsked. “Not something to apologize for. Try again.”
At the 20-second mark, Grace leaned down to blow a raspberry over the gills on Simon’s neck, slowing his pace slightly in Simon’s armpits to avoid overwhelming him.
“AHAHAHA- Hohow much time left?” Simon squealed.
Grace vibrated his fingers into Simon’s ribs, edging closer to the sensitive gills on Simon’s sides. “Ten seconds,” Grace lied through his teeth.
“BUHULLSHIT!” Simon shrieked. “There’s nohoho way—“
“Okahay, you caught me,” Grace snickered. He scratched gently at Simon’s navel. Simon’s giggles became squeaky.
“Fuckin’- liahahar!” Simon growled, his good arm coming down to shove at Grace’s hands. Grace avoided it expertly.
“You bastard— I’m gonna kill youhuhu…” Simon’s head fell back onto the pillow in defeat.
Grace snorted at the threat. He dragged his fingers down Simon’s gills, making the younger man let out a shrill scream.
“I’ll stop if you promise me you won’t worry too much about making me mad,” Grace offered.
Simon flipped Grace onto his back as soon as he had his strength back. He dug his fingers into Grace’s hips and squeezed, forcing a shriek out of Grace’s mouth.
“SIHIHIMON- What is this FOHOR??” Grace exclaimed.
“I’ll stop if you promise to confront me when I inconvenience you, even if it’s minor,” Simon growled.
“OKAHAHAY!”
“Good,” Simon said, letting Grace up.
When Grace finally caught his breath, he muttered, “I’d scold you for turning the tables, but hey, it’s proof that you see us as equals!” He pumped his fist in victory.
“Shut up,” Simon said, rolling his eyes. But he was still smiling.
Grace had the urge to regain the upper hand. “Should we make ‘tickling my husband for 15 seconds when he makes me mad’ a thing, then?” Grace asked.
Simon blushed furiously again.
Grace smirked victoriously.
Multi fandom tickle fics but mostly Irondad @fluffygiggles - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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