What the Ocean Gave You
Inspired by @wraithillustrates ‘s lovely art:)
Simon was not an especially hopeful person. There wasn’t much in his childhood that would have given him reason to hope and his adulthood provided even less kindling for that nonexistent spark.
Despite the lack of hope in Simon, something kept him going. Call it sheer force of will, survival instinct, but he was going to last as long as he could and maybe, just maybe, figure out a way to get out of the sub.
Fat chance.
The bacteria that lay on every surface of the metal death trap, mixed with the almost supernatural forces within the blood that clawed its way inside through the cracks of the submarine, well, they made a nasty combination.
One that unfortunately made its way into Simon’s bloodstream.
It was an accident, of course. Simon was trying to fix something in the rinky-dink glorified matchbox and the unsanded metal sliced the skin of Simon’s palm so easily he almost wouldn’t have noticed if not for the burning pain that followed. That metal had been stained with the dried blood of the ocean, so no, not sanitary, and while Simon tried his best to clean and dress the wound with one hand, the damage had been done.
Simon spent the night, or at least what his internal clock told him was such, in an incredibly inconvenient mix of overheating and frigidity, dreams of hot, sticky, red liquid clogging every pore and orifice in Simon’s body until it consumed him whole.
When he woke up the next morning, or rather, when he finally gave up trying to sleep for more than an hour at a time, he knew something was deeply wrong.
Simon looked into the small mirror in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, and noticed his canines had definitely been shorter and duller before. Upon running his tongue under one, a bead of blood peaked out and ran over Simon’s tongue like a first hit of a strong drug.
Simon doubled over. Not quite in pain, not quite in pleasure, from his first dose of what he would eventually need to become addicted to in order to survive, but something in the ether of the two.
“What the fuck,” Simon groaned and held his stomach.
He needed more.
The good thing about being mutated into some sort of ungodly creature that needed to feed on blood to survive was that Simon had more blood than he knew what to do with.
The bad part was that he would rather starve than lap up at the thick, murky liquid that surrounded his prison.
He suffered greatly as a result of this little point of pride.
When pride ran out and hunger didn’t, Simon unwrapped his hand just to see if the blood hadn’t coagulated enough to make feeding on himself any harder than it needed to be.
Fortunately in some people’s eyes, but unfortunately for Simon, this strange liquid death that had seeped into his veins also gave him some sort of speedy regeneration.
There was a whisper of a slit that remained on Simon’s palm.
“Fuck!”
Simon sobbed as he crumpled to the floor. When he got enough strength to try and satiate the gnawing in his stomach with some rations, he found his throat and taste buds uncooperative. What had once been bland but not terrible blocks of nutrients had become unbearably bitter and assaulting to his senses. Even the smell made Simon dry heave as he expelled the offending substance from his mouth.
Simon didn’t know how much more time he spent crying as he unwrapped just about every piece of food he had and forced himself to take a bite, just to see if maybe, just maybe, one would taste tolerable enough to consume.
No such luck.
“Why…? I thought this was already hell, did I sink one ring deeper?” Simon prayed and prayed to a god he wasn’t sure would even accept him, much less listen to his helpless pleas for some sort of relief.
The blood that slowly trickled down a wall whose leak he was sure he had already fixed taunted him with its sweet scent.
The good thing about being mutated into some sort of demon that needed to feed on blood to survive was that Simon had more blood than he knew what to do with.
Pride and seemingly sanity went out the window when Simon inched his way towards the wall.
One try. Just one. It wouldn’t do any harm, would it? Not much more than what had already been done.
Simon swiped his finger across the path of crimson, shaking as his hand got closer to his mouth.
Simon was ashamed to say he tried making the leak wider just so he could lap up even more disgustingly delicious nectar from the wall.
Simon passed out after that. Similar to what he would have imagined having too much food and falling asleep after would have felt like. Not that he would know.
Simon thought he was dying when he woke up.
It would have been welcome, honestly, with how nice heaven looked from where Simon lay, blood covering the lower half of his face and crusting over, completely unworthy of anything close to the pearly gates that seemed to open up before him.
And then, despite all of Simon’s sins, an angel appeared and pulled him out of the depths of his punishment.
.
.
.
The angel claimed to be human. Simon went along with it because he was hopped up on painkillers and at that point he would have agreed that he was a fish. But deep down in Simon’s dormant logical mind, he knew this man with golden hair and gentle hands was a heavenly being.
“Angel,” Simon croaked out, reaching his hand that started it all towards the beauty that was too far away for his liking.
“Oh- are you okay, do you need something?” The angel immediately came to Simon’s side, stirring something up in Simon that he hadn’t felt in— come to think of it, maybe ever.
“Sit with me, angel,” Simon practically begged, craving the warmth that came from proximity to him, despite being told in Sunday school that angels were cold.
Maybe there was more that the church was wrong about.
“Okay, I can do that,” the angel smiled and Simon wanted to cry.
He guessed he had actually started crying, because the angel looked worried all of a sudden, fussing over Simon before wiping away his tears with his thumb like he was worth fussing over.
“Oh crud, I’m sorry, this must be so much for you to take in. It’s gonna be okay, okay? We’re taking you back somewhere safe, Rocky and the Eridians made up a nice place to stay in, I think you’ll really like it,” the angel’s words seemed to comfort Simon, despite Simon not quite understanding what he was talking about. Was this not heaven? Was this not the final destination for Simon’s weary soul?
Simon vaguely remembered talking to a rock.
It was a nice rock, so Simon didn’t have any worries when it came up to his bed and started talking about them being friends and meeting the rock’s mate.
He think he would like wherever the angel and the rock would take him.
.
.
.
“Rock, I’m worried about this guy. He seems like he’s fully healed, which is great, but there are break lines in the bone where the rest of his arm should be that seem… weird,” Grace spoke quietly to Rocky as to not wake up their guest.
“Rocky not understand, bone supposed to break only one way, question?” Rocky tapped twice on the ground softly, seemingly to also not wake up their guest.
“No, no, it’s that, Simon briefly in his lucidity, told me that he had to rip his arm off. But in the scans Armando took of him, it looks like it was practically lasered off. It’s a perfectly clean break, the kind only a machine or surgeon would be able to do. Not only that, the scar tissue around his various injuries is just… gone! That shouldn’t be the case, it’s like he healed at hyper speed,” Grace explained.
Rocky looked like he considered this, “maybe planet that friend Simon comes from has different technology,” he offered.
“Yeah… I’m hoping that’s it. I don’t know if I want to ask him though. Even high on painkillers he looks so sad whenever I ask about where he came from. He’ll tell me if he’s ready. Or he won’t. It’s up to him,” Grace sighed and looked back over to where Simon lay, deep in sleep.
.
.
.
As Simon got more lucid, slowly being weaned off the painkillers by a machine he learned was named Armando, he started regaining his full senses rather than all of it being kind of fuzzy and soft.
That included smell, of course.
And what a wonderful smell the angel had. It was like pie from a half open window with the curtains pulled shut. Such a thin barrier between sweetness and Simon’s mouth, making Simon’s eyes travel to the angel’s pulse.
The angel insisted Simon call him Grace instead of angel.
That seemed to only prove Simon’s theory more, but he would listen to anything his savior would tell him if it meant seeing that smile on his face, so he agreed.
Simon had in fact talked to a rock and was not hallucinating.
The rock was still nice, thankfully, and called Simon “friend”.
Simon had never been called that before.
.
“How are you feeling?” Grace had the tendency to check on Simon periodically, almost like a doting wife.
Simon hummed and mustered a smile for his angel. It was the least he could do after all, and now, Simon had a real reason to.
Grace smiled back and patted Simon’s hand, “that’s good. You’re extremely resilient, you know. It’s almost a marvel, how perfectly you’ve healed.”
Simon winced internally. If only Grace knew why.
“Yes, well, thanks to you,” Simon hoped that would be enough to stave off any suspicion the angel might have if he started asking too many questions.
Grace blushed and looked away, waving his hand at Simon, “I mean, mostly thanks to Armando more than anything. But thank you.”
Simon nodded and patted Grace’s hand back.
It was nice, being with an angel and his friend rock.
.
The hunger started gnawing away at Simon not long after.
Of course, leave it up to Simon to ruin a good thing.
Armando picked up a fever, irregular heart rate, and other symptoms that directly contrasted the recovery Simon was making just a day before.
Grace looked even more worried than Simon felt.
“What can I do to help?? Gosh, Armando doesn’t even know what’s wrong with you, how is this possible?! Oh gosh oh jeez, what can I even do??” Grace was pacing around the room, the action endearing to floor-ridden, doubled over Simon even as the hunger bordered on torture.
Simon’s treacherous mind wandered at Grace’s desperate question, and his eyes wandered to the pulse point at Grace’s neck, rushing blood to and from his heart like a mini errand boy.
The very good thing about being rescued like a damsel in distress from Simon’s prison was that Simon’s knight in shining armor happened to have lots of blood.
“Angel- Grace… the sub… fuck… it changed me,” Simon groaned out slowly, clutching at his stomach as he straightened up enough to peel himself off the ground, using the cot he had been sleeping on as support.
Grace looked confused and intrigued. His scientist brain had been sparked with curiosity.
“What do you mean?” Grace stepped forward to wipe away the sweat off Simon’s brow, now that said brow was visible and wasn’t hidden by the curtain of Simon’s dark hair.
“Shit- I need… blood.”
To say there was a change in atmosphere would have been the understatement of the year.
Rocky chittered something that was definitely an untranslated swear word.
“Friend Simon danger!! Friend Simon need Grace inside fluid to live, danger danger danger! Bad bad bad!!” Rocky rolled at Simon with surprising speed, meaning to ram into him as his protective side of Grace showed full force.
“Rocky! Stop!” Grace ran after Rocky and stopped him before he could bulldoze over the man, barely holding him back due to how heavy Rocky was.
“He didn’t say he wanted to hurt me!” Grace practically begged, using his full weight to leverage the ball away from Simon.
“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— I’m sure I’ll be fine. I don’t want to hurt Grace, Rocky. That’s the last thing I would ever want,” Simon put his hand up in surrender, trying to make himself the least threatening as he could, but that was hard when he was a mutated freak.
Rocky seemed to calm down at hearing these words, but his body language was still defensive as he regarded Simon.
“I don’t want to ruin this. You’ve been so kind to me, both of you. I’ll be fine,” Simon reassured.
Grace could tell it was bologna. How would someone who needed blood to survive be fine without blood?
“How much blood do you need?” Grace asked, to which Rocky screeched, tapping at the side of his ball closest to Grace as if to say “hey dumbass!”
“Grace need inside fluid! Grace not give Simon inside fluid! Insist!!” Rocky practically shouted at Grace.
“Rocky, humans make a lot of blood, we can stand to lose a little. If Simon needs some, I’m gonna give it to him, okay?” Grace spoke softly to his best friend, crouching down to be at his level but speaking to him as his equal.
Simon wasn’t sure he would ever fully understand their bond.
Rocky seemed to contemplate for a long moment, but must have sensed how adamant Grace was, despite his gentle tone.
“Rocky won’t look. Come get Rocky when Simon is done,” Rocky pretty noticeably left out the friend part of Simon’s usual label.
Simon wouldn’t pretend that didn’t sting a little.
“I’ll come get you, bud. Wanna wait in the don’t go crazy room?” Grace offered.
.
With Rocky gone, the tension eased only a modicum, guilt and a healthy mix of fear present between the two men.
“So uh… how do you want to do this?” Grace asked, rubbing his arm.
“Up to you. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Simon said softly, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the rushing pulse just under the thin skin of Grace’s neck.
It called to him, a siren song in a sea of stars as they made their way back to where Simon would soon call home.
What then?
What would happen when Simon got to Rocky’s planet and Simon would have to drain Rocky’s best friend periodically? How could Simon exist if not as some vulgar leech-
“Simon?”
Fuck.
Simon snapped out of it as best he could, “yeah- sorry,” he muttered, cheeks pinkening.
.
Simon and Grace talked it out. Grace would squeeze somewhere on Simon if he needed to stop. Simon would immediately stop if he got the signal, and the two agreed having the medkit in arms reach would be a good idea in case anything happened.
“Are you sure about this?” Simon asked, staring into Grace’s eyes for any signs of apprehension or fear.
Grace nodded, “Simon… you’re the first human I’ve seen in years. Forgive me if this sounds weird but uh… I’d do more than give blood to you if it meant keeping the company,” Grace looked away, cheeks pinkening slightly in a way that made Simon’s chest feel tight.
“I… I appreciate that. More than you know,” Simon put a hand on Grace’s shoulder. It seemed the appropriate thing to do since they were about to get very familiar with touch in just a moment.
Grace smiled, “don’t mention it. Go ahead,” he nodded.
Simon stepped closer, heart rate picking up as he could smell Grace better now. He looked at his neck for a moment, looked up at Grace’s eyes that were tracking his movements, then looked back down at his neck.
He gently placed his lips on the warm skin, before opening his mouth and murmuring a soft apology and biting down.
It was the best thing Simon had ever tasted.
The flavors that burst on his tongue distracted Simon from the jolt of pain that tensed his shoulders, the flavor of it far from the sickeningly sweet sludge Simon had been forced to lap up from the walls to survive. Simon absently wondered how he ever lived without it before he realized he could suck out more of the precious liquid.
He wrapped his arm firmly around Grace, who was breathing heavily but otherwise taking it like a champ.
Simon’s eyes closed in ecstasy as he drank, trying his best to savor every drop even as the crimson liquid dribbled down his chin and spread messily around his lips.
It was like he was in a trance, a beautiful ocean of warmth surrounded him and made his body weightless. It was true bliss.
“Si- Simon…” Grace murmured, before taking a hold of Simon’s neck and squeezing feebly to get Simon’s attention.
Simon, holding on the last shred of self control he had, snapped out of it when he felt those cold fingers on his neck, immediately pulling away for fear of hurting the blonde.
“Fu-fuck! Shit, Grace! I-I’m so sorry I got carried away– are you okay??” Simon sounded so worried it was endearing to the man in front of him. Simon’s expression changed however when he saw the look Grace was wearing.
It was a smile.
It was a flushed smile.
“You’re… hah… a really messy eater, you know that?” Grace’s voice took on a light, teasing tone that told Simon two very important things:
One, that Grace was alright.
Two, that Grace was somehow… into this…
Simon chuckled nervously, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone that far. Let me clean you up?” Simon hoped this would serve as a making up for getting too “lost in the sauce” as Simon had heard some earth Youtubers say before.
Grace nodded and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck again.
Fuck, that was tempting for a different reason.
Simon opened up the medkit and started to reach for Grace’s bloody neck with an alcohol pad, but Grace stopped him with a hand gently on his.
“Simon,” he said in a tone that said Simon should have already known what he was doing wrong, “are you really gonna waste all this excess?” Grace motioned to the blood that was drying around the two little puncture wounds in Grace’s neck.
Well, there was a lot of blood that could be consumed.
But that would mean lapping at Grace’s skin like a desperate animal.
Simon had been turned by the submarine, by the blood ocean, into a desperate animal.
But he was a human first.
“Oh, uh, you don’t mind? I just figured you’d want it to be over,” Simon searched in Grace’s eyes for any sign of fear or disgust.
There was none.
“Clean up your mess, Simon,” Grace tilted his head more to the side. An invitation.
Any of Simon’s potential words were punched out of his chest at that tone. Had Grace always been so..? It didn’t matter.
Simon came closer, until his mouth was on Grace once more. This time, no teeth, only soft muscle on stained skin. The taste on Simon’s tastebuds was just as heavenly as it was before, if not made more satisfying knowing that the blonde wasn’t in pain, wasn’t being actively drained. This was just cleaning up a mess, it wasn’t selfish like Simon’s more baser desires.
Like the desire to make a mess out of Grace.
As Simon licked where he could feel Grace’s pulse through the warm skin, he heard Grace’s breath hitch above him. Simon dared not pull away when that was immediately followed by a muffled whimper. It wasn’t the sound of pain being pushed through, no, this was pleasure– Simon knew the sound well. There were many nights where all Simon had to trade was pleasure, but this was not a bargaining token now. This was something willingly given and taken for the sake of itself. What a beautiful indulgence.
“Ah… Si…” Grace barely murmured out, his breathing getting quicker.
Simon made sure to do good work. He made sure his tongue laved away every last bit of blood before moving to the next area, his hand moving on its own to hold Grace closer.
“F- holy…” it was the second time Grace’s voice sounded shakily in Simon’s ear, and to say Simon wanted more would be a vast understatement.
“Are you okay..?” Simon asked into the warm skin of Grace’s neck, not quite wanting to look up at the beautiful man before him lest he lose his nerve.
“Yeah, I’m good, it just… it’s been a while since…” Grace didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. Every ache and pain that loneliness brought was shared with Simon. Every desire for touch, every shiver from the simplest form of contact, the feelings were so intensely mutual it was as if their bodies were simply waiting for the moment they could pull together like magnets.
Simon was running out of blood on Grace’s neck. Which unfortunately meant he was running out of his excuse to have his mouth on him. He steeled himself for rejection before pressing a chaste kiss where the puncture marks indented Grace’s skin.
Grace sucked in a breath.
Simon pulled back, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
He was interrupted by a pair of lips crashing into his.
To say the taste of Grace’s saliva and blood on his tongue was erotic would have just been pointing out the obvious.
Grace, whose hands had been laying at his sides since he suggested Simon clean him up, now had his hands everywhere he could reach; Simon’s shoulders, his back, his waist, every inch of unexplored mass that was in reach was fair game now that the dam had broken.
Simon wasn’t much better. He groped at Grace’s ass and backed him into the closest wall, Grace’s leg immediately coming up to wrap itself around Simon’s hips before grinding against him, making the both of them moan into each other’s mouths.
“Simon…” Grace tugged at Simon’s shirt and Simon got the idea pretty quick. He let go of his Grace for only a moment as he flipped his shirt off, Grace’s greedy hands immediately flying to the newly exposed skin, running his fingers down the ridges of his torso.
Simon breathed heavily as he watched with rapt attention the exploration of his own body.
“You’re stunning,” Grace said, mostly to himself, but succeeding in making the man in front of him blush the most he ever had in his life.
Grace looked up just in time to catch this reaction and smiled, “it doesn’t take a lot to get you, huh?” He teased lightly, thumbs brushing over Simon’s nipples and toying with them until they were hard and pert.
“Ah- nobody’s… nobody’s as nice as you are where I’m from,” Simon gasped at the attention to his chest and rested his head on Grace’s shoulder, before tugging at his stupid science pun shirt, which Grace shed without a second thought.
“It’s easy to be nice to you, Simon. You’re so capable and smart, it helps how handsome you are, too,” Grace knew he could lay it on a lot thicker, but he wanted to see what the threshold was here. Always with a scientific mind, he wondered what turning up the amount of praise he gave Simon would do to the convict.
Simon shuddered and ground his hips against Grace’s, panting as he took in the sweet words like a plant who hadn’t been watered in weeks.
“You… you really think that..?” Simon’s voice was soft and desperate, a man searching for warmth for so long without ever knowing what it felt like suddenly in front of a blazing fireplace. Simon wasn’t entirely sure it was even real. Maybe he was dreaming. Or dead.
“After the stories you told me about mapping out a whole ocean with nothing but a cruddy camera and a tin can submarine? How could I not think you’re smart?” Grace was grinding his hips into Simon’s the whole time he talked, a hand snaking up to play with his hair adding just enough sensation to make the steady grinding from Simon turn into a buck of surprise.
“Grace… fuck… please,” Simon’s voice cracked from the overwhelming experience of it all. How could something be so good with not even a hint of bad?
Grace felt a switch go off inside him when he heard the man beg.
“Take these off?” Grace tugged at the belt loop of Simon’s (Grace’s) jeans, which Simon immediately undid and let fall to his ankles.
Grace couldn’t help but feel giddy at how eager he was. He also couldn’t help but feel blessed at how big Simon’s cock was. They would definitely explore that later.
“Tell me to stop and I will, okay?” Grace asked as his hand trailed slowly down Simon’s stomach, giving him time to rethink this and say no.
Simon nodded against Grace’s shoulder, breathing out a quick, “yes,” to show he understood.
When Simon felt Grace’s warm hand around him, it was like a shock of electricity. It must have been the buildup, the desperation, the unknown force of attraction, because it had never felt this good before.
Simon let out a filthy whimper that the both of them were surprised at, but where Simon was embarrassed, Grace was eager to hear more.
Grace gave a slow, experimental stroke, half because it had been so long and half to see how Simon would react. It was kind of hard to see his face though when it was buried in Grace’s shoulder, though. He had to fix that.
Simon panted heavily as he felt Grace’s skilled hand around him, before Grace used his other hand to lift up Simon’s chin, coaxing his eyes to flutter open.
“Look at me, Si, c’mon. I want to see those pretty eyes,” the way Grace said it was so gentle yet left no room for debate. Why would Simon have any reason to disagree with such sweet words?
Simon looked up at Grace and was almost startled to see all that love and desire shining back at him through those blue orbs. It pushed Simon closer in a way touch never could.
“Fu-fuck… Grace… I-I’m… fuck!” Grace, a smart man, had predicted what Simon was going to say and stroked Simon harder, making Simon’s hips buck up into his hand.
“Let go, Si. You’re so beautiful when you don’t have those stress lines on your face, when you’re enjoying yourself. Just enjoy it, sweetheart,” Grace planted a soft kiss to Simon’s lips before pulling away to watch Simon come undone.
Simon sobbed in pleasure, the combination of Grace’s hand working its magic and being called an endearment for the first time in his life setting the blood in his veins on fire, his vision going white for a moment as he came the hardest he had in his life, Grace’s name on his tongue as he came all over himself and Grace.
Grace kissed Simon’s forehead and smiled against the sweat-dampened skin.
“You did so good, Si,” he said it in such a sweet, sincere voice that Simon’s dick already twitched with renewed interest.
“Wait… you’re…” Simon, temporarily limited in his vocabulary, simply tugged at Grace’s sweatpants, now noticing the wet spot that had gathered where Grace was still painfully hard in his pants.
“Yeah, I am,” Grace seemed almost embarrassed, “it’s okay, I can go take care of it-”
Grace let out a surprised sound when Simon dropped to his knees in front of him.
“Simon?!” Grace’s face was very red now.
“I’m good at it, if you’ll let me repay you,” Simon took hold of one of Grace’s thighs, gently moving his leg farther apart from the other.
“Repay- no! Nononono, that’s not what I want!” Grace sounded almost panicked at the thought of Simon misconstruing his intentions.
Simon’s throat tightened. Had he misread? Was he undesirable after all?
“Oh… you-“ Simon cleared his throat, hopefully banishing the hurt in his voice, “you can close your eyes and pretend it’s someone else if you want. I don’t mind,” Simon’s heart rate only picked up as he saw Grace’s jaw drop. What had he said wrong now?
Grace knelt down to be at Simon’s level, “Simon— if you think I’m not attracted to you, you could not be more wrong. It’s just… if you do this, I want you to do it because you want to, not as a repayment,” Grace explained, putting a hand on Simon’s face.
“Well, I want to repay you— isn’t that the same thing?” Simon was confused. Why was Grace over-complicating this?
Grace let out a noise, “look at it this way: if I hadn’t just- you know- would you still want to?”
Oh.
Oh.
“If I knew you wanted to… then, yes,” Simon responded.
This made Grace’s face go red again.
He cleared his throat, “o-okay, then! That’s how it should always be. Never a debt thing, okay? You don’t owe me anything.”
“I literally owe you my life.”
“Uh! But you never have to— do you get what I’m trying to say? I feel like- I feel like you get it,” Grace searched Simon’s face for understanding.
Simon nodded, “only when I want to. Not when I feel like I owe you.”
Grace sighed in relief, “yeah. Exactly.”
“Well, I want to.”
“Oh…” Grace stood back at attention.
“So stand back up again,” Simon said, trying to hold back a smile when Grace looked at him dumbfounded, before following the direction.
Simon pulled Grace’s sweatpants down easily, grateful that after all that fanfare there wasn’t yet another hard layer between him and Grace’s dick.
Feeling a combination of impatience and desire, he eyed his prize for a moment before he slipped the whole thing in his mouth, pulling a cry out from Grace, who had to steady himself on the wall to keep from toppling over.
Simon let himself enjoy the feeling of Grace touching the back of his throat for a moment. He had never let himself do that before, everyone he had been with wanted a quick fix, but something told Simon he could be more self indulgent with this.
He slid Grace out halfway to circle his tongue around Grace’s head more comfortably and he heard the blonde whine above him. It was a beautiful sound.
“Simon…” Grace whimpered a put a hand on Simon’s hair, playing with his hair as if to distract himself.
Simon still wanted to make a mess of this man.
Pushing himself back to the hilt, he took Grace deeper until his nose hit curly hair. He hummed around the throbbing cock and hollowed his cheeks out.
“Fff- Simon!! Oh, oh God!!” Grace twitched inside Simon, who got the wonderful idea of cupping Grace’s balls, warm fingers coaxing his climax out.
Grace let out a cry as Simon swallowed around him, barely being able to get out half of Simon’s name before he was coming down his throat. Simon swallowed down all he could, the muscles contracting against Grace’s head, dragging him into overstimulation before Simon got off Grace with an obscene pop.
Grace, for the first time since Simon had met him, was speechless.
“I told you I was good,” Simon got up slowly and kissed Grace, the taste of himself on Simon in more ways than one making Grace go a little dizzy, still leaning on the wall for support.
“You did… you did tell me,” Grace said as they broke their kiss.
Simon smiled. He was more than proud of himself.
Grace let out a sigh and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“I need a nap.”