Tickle blog || Nothing explicit on this page, irl/ more nsfw stuff goes to @starrytickles || Mostly here to reblog stuff but I also like to draw || he/she || 20 || switch || australian
Hiiiii I'm Felix, I'm 20, and tickling is my favourite love language, and I enjoy it in many ways :). This blog doesn't contain any explicit content but is 18+ nonetheless. My other blog for irl and more explicit stuff not everyone might wanna see is @starrytickles
Other things about me:
- Pronouns: he/she
- I'm trans and asexual
- I'm Australian
- I'm an art student
My fandoms:
These are just things I like, mostly the things I'll talk about. pls send stuff related to these if you want I'd love to chat. Most of these change frequently depending on what I'm fixated on as well tho
Project hail mary (tickle fic: Ler!Ryland Grace, Lee!Reader)
🌌 Summary: Grace is a filthy cheater when he's drunk - you're more than willing to match his mischief.
🪐Tags: Ryland Grace & Reader, tickling, fluff. 1.5k words
💫 Prompt: "thinking about rocky seeing you give grace raspberries for the first time and being baffled because he’s seen tickling before but this is new and weird and grace is reacting SO strongly,,, cue rocky asking a million questions to which you say “i don’t know, grace is the scientist here, why don’t you ask him” and grace having to explain the logistics behind it all while in hysterics, rushing to get his words out before you raspberry him again and he can barely talk though laughterrrr i’m on such a lee!grace kick atm i need that man to be wrecked within an inch of his life"
🛰️Author's note: At long last, new fic!! Sorry this one took so long! I'm still not super happy with it but I wanted to give yall something this week! <3.
🌌 Credits: (thank you to @//harringtonsslvt for the post layout inspo! Space dividers by @//strangergraphics)
You and Grace could be incredibly stupid sometimes. In your defence, you'd had several months with only each other to perfect your specific brand of ridiculous.
So it's no surprise to either of you that you're here again, chasing Grace down for sabotaging his way to Mariokart victory. Shoving the other players does not constitute a valid strategy, in your book, and you intend to make that point via a suitably childish retribution.
Though perhaps the fact you're both a little tipsy is clouding your judgement.
"Ok, ok ok-"
Ryland backs against the wall, looking suitably ridiculous. His legs nearly trip over one another, and he can't seem to stop laughing. The screen behind him proudly displays his ill-won place on the leader-board.
He sends you a pleading look - one that begs you to reconsider the course of action he knows you'll take. But you've both done this dance before - he never means it.
Knowing this, and seeing the poorly concealed giddiness in his eyes brings a smile to your face. Ryland knows you've made your choice, and holds his hand out in front of him.
"C'mon, wait, wait wait-"
You laugh, longer than you usually would. It's all so silly. “Nah.”
In a split second, you leap over, and barrel head-first into your target. You attack without mercy: your hands aim ticklish jabs at his sides, his stomach, his ribs. He curls up instantly, careless giggles and useless bargaining immediately filling the room.
"Yes yes yes, get him!" Rocky exclaims.
"Rohock! Have some sympathy!"
"No!" Normally, when there is a dispute, Rocky is quick to point out who started it - but in times like these, it is unclear to all of you. Grace may have started the shoving, but only because you tried to block his view of the screen.
You glance up at Grace, who has backed even further against the wall in his struggling, his shirt dishevelled. He sees the look in your eyes, and starts giggling.
“Hah- okay, okahay, what…whatever it is you’re thinking of doING-” His voice pitches up as you lean closer, grabbing his midriff. He attempts to block you with his hands, but not much effort goes into the gesture.
“Listen, listen, we can talk ABOUT- OH NO-” The rest of his sentence is swallowed by a shriek, because you’ve ignored him, and instead shoved your head under his shirt to plant a raspberry against his stomach. Ryland bats ineffectually at your head, his torso twisting and shaking with high pitched laughter - and then, adorably, he snorts. You withdraw after a moment - partly to catch your breath, and partly so you can watch him giggle himself silly as he recovers.
“Ha- oh fudge-” He mutters, an unabashed grin still lingering on his face.
Rocky chimes up from behind, tapping his foot. “…What was that, question?”
You both pause, glancing down at him. “Huh?”
“The noise.”
“What, this?” You immediately lean in and give your companion another raspberry. The shrieking returns, and he keeps trying to suck his stomach in to get away. It doesn’t work.
“Yes.” Rocky shuffles.
“Care to explain, Dr. Grace?” You grin, poking unpredictably at his sides with one hand and holding him for stability with the other. Ilyukhina's vodka was dangerous.
Grace whines at the suggestion, pushing lightly at your hands.
“Oh, why mehehe?”
“It’s, uhhh- s'your turn to field a Rocky question. I did the last one.”
“Ha- oh jeez, do I have to?” He looks at Rocky pleadingly.
“Yes.”
“Great. So it’s called a raspberry-EEE-”
His sentence devolves into a shrill squeal. Maybe it’s a little mean you interrupted him to give Rocky another demonstration. Oddly, though, it's hard to find a trace of guilt in your heart.
“…Like earth fruit, question?”
You draw back, nodding in Rocky's direction. “Yep.”
Ryland rakes a hand through his hair, and glares. His betrayal is completely staged.
“You’re not -gonna make this easy for me, are you?”
You shrug, intoxicated laughter threatening to drown your words.
“You're the one taking ages to explain.”
“Why called raspberry, question?”
“I dohon't know, bud, you'll have to check the database!” His breath hitches when you start spidering slowly over his ribs. He pouts, and if anything it just motivates you to continue.
“Grace laugh a lot when raspberry.”
“Yea, bud, because it really TICKLES-”
You do it again, because he's not exactly pushing you away. Grace curls inwards, holding onto your shoulders for dear life as he laughs.
"Raspberries work anywhere else, question?"
Ryland just giggles helplessly, his grip on you tightening, making absolutely no moves to stop you. Regardless, you take pity, and ease off a bit.
“Go on.” You nod for him to continue, lightly squeezing his sides. He's barely stopped laughing, clearly just as giggly as you after a couple drinks.
“Yea, thehey do.” He mutters, a note of resignation in his voice.
"Like where, question?"
He pauses.
...There is no universe where you manage to stop Grace from immediately burying his face against your neck. No universe where you push him away before he takes a deep breath. And no universe where he doesn't then declare, with all the smugness in the world:
"Here."
And then you feel it.
Grace's beard really tickles.
You manage to shout a single expletive before you're lost to unfiltered cackling. Your body seizes in its hysterics, trying to writhe out of the way - but every movement only seems to trap him further against your shoulder. There's nowhere to go. Besides, in your half-drunk state, where every touch feels like dozy sunlight on a nice afternoon, you don't particularly want to go anywhere.
You still protest, though.
"GRACE! Plehehease!"
"Sorry," He pauses, chuckles. "Is your neck too ticklish?"
"Shut UP-" Your voice slides higher when his stubble brushes your collarbone, and squeaky giggles wreak havoc on your little remaining coherency.
"You want me to stop talking?"
"YES!"
"Good. Raspberries make it kinda hard to talk, so that works out for both of us." He blows another one to illustrate his point.
"GRACE-" You shout between giggles, infuriated. He ignores you - just nuzzles slightly closer, the buzzing of his beard on your skin sending you into utter hysterics.
"So..." He leans back to look down at your audience. "Any more questions, Rock?"
"Not sure."
"Ok. Well, I'm aiming to repay my four raspberries here, so I've only got two more left. Better think of one fast."
"...You are both very drunk."
"S'not a question, bud."
"...Why do raspberries work on stomach but not sides, question?"
"I meannn," He shrugs. "I never said they didn't."
"Great," You huff, trying to extricate yourself from the odd half-hug Grace has trapped you in.
"It is great, actually." He pulls you closer like it's nothing, and nudges at your shirt.
"You know what's not great? Cheating at Mariokart."
He doesn't say anything - just takes another deep breath. You brace yourself, hoping to contain your reactions a little better.
It doesn't work.
"ahaHA-" Your legs kick out wildly. "RockEE- HELP!"
"What would I do? Am in ball." He's got a point, unfortunately.
Grace finally pauses for breath, and you think he might be about to show mercy.
But then he looks at Rocky, and looks at you, and frowns.
"Hm, I wonder..."
He grabs your leg, pulling it straight. His hand rests on the cuff of your shorts, above your exposed knee, stabilising it.
Your eyes go wide.
"No."
"What, you think it'll work?"
You hesitate. He doesn't bother letting you contemplate further - just leans in, and brings his mouth to the skin behind your knee.
It's awful. It's wonderful. It's so stupid and ridiculous. You smile so wide. You laugh so hard.
This chaos is comfortable to you both, and you know neither of you would change it.
It takes a while for you to notice that Ryland has stopped - you're still laughing when he turns you around to face him.
"Uh oh. Someone's got a case of the giggles."
There's a special kind of withering glare you reserve only for when Ryland really annoys you - but you use it here, just for fun. Just to see him tut and roll his eyes.
"Happy?" You fold your arms.
"Very." He smirks. You shove at him gently.
"Still do not understand why called raspberry." Rocky crawls closer. "On Erid we call it-"
He stops. The quiet that follows tells you all you need to know.
"...Rocky..." You start.
"Nevermind." He chimes, moving to scuttle away.
Grace grins wildly.
"No, no. Continue. What do you call it on Erid?"
The conversation devolves rapidly, and you lean back to watch. The night is still young, it seems. Plenty of time for Rocky to witness some more of the incredible stupidity you are all accustomed to.
Summary: A ship full of all the knowledge humanity possesses and an honest to god alien, yet the two saviors of the world find themselves becoming bored on the return trip to Erid. Hey, it could happen to anyone.
Luckily, Rocky has always been very good at entertaining himself, even when his roommate is being annoying…
Words: 2109
Dynamics: Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky. Rocky POV
A/N: Just a shorter story of a silly idea I had. I love the idea that the shine of first contact dims and eventually Grace and Rocky start bothering and prodding at each other, like true best friends do. This is sorta a prequel to a fic I’m working on rn based on this request, so stay tuned for that one too!
———
I like to think I kept my dorkiness in check when meeting an alien… but I’m not so sure I succeeded. Listen, you really can’t blame me. At that point I had spent 46 years in the Tau Ceti system trying and failing to science up a solution to the astrophage crisis all on my own. I think it’s only natural to be a little geeked when a real-life fucking alien shows up with a whole spaceship brimming with science potential and alien technology, but I did try to keep a lid on it.
It apparently wasn't a very tight lid. Stepping onto the Hail Mary, I couldn't help myself from bouncing up and down excitedly, my voice raised to an almost embarrassing octave as I looked at all the human things. When Grace asked what I wanted to see first, I basically tripped over myself trying to decide, and ended up pointing at six different things in the span of thirty seconds before making up my mind. It was the kind of behavior I would expect from a young Eridian, not someone at the grown age of 291 years old like myself.
In the back of my mind I had chided myself. This was Erid’s first contact and I had to be a good representative. I was the only Eridian Grace had met—everything he would learn about my people he would learn through me. So I could not embarrass myself in front of my new alien friend by accidentally clueing him into the fact that I’m a huge dork.
Turns out, I didn't have to worry about that, because Grace is an even bigger dork.
As excited as I was to learn about humans and Earth, Grace was ten times more excited to learn about Eridians and Erid. Which was a good thing, too, because it gave us something to talk about after we finished our mission and pointed the Hail Mary toward my home.
It was through those conversations that Grace's dorkiness really shone through. When we discussed Erid, he would constantly interrupt his own question with even more questions, often trying to theorize and answer them himself before I could. Then, when I finally could answer, he would gush over the new discovery before launching right into his next query. Not that I was any better. Humans were absolutely fascinating, and my favorite way to kill time was to pick Grace's brain and geek out with him.
I didn’t think we’d ever get bored… until we did. Oops.
I suppose that was only natural. We are currently one whole year into the return trip to Erid, stuck on a ship barely big enough for the two of us, and apparently there is only so much talking you can do before you simply run out of words. Grace's movies and thinking machines are pretty entertaining too, but even those lose their shine after a while.
I’m dealing with the boredom by working on a new project, naturally. I’m tired of the xenonite ball. It's cramped and annoying to maneuver around on this small ship. And if I’m being honest… I also just want to be able to interact with Grace more closely. Even if there will always be some sort of barrier between us, I could at least make one that could allow me to properly hug my friend.
So that's what I'm doing. I’ve taken inspiration from the mesh xenonite panel on my ball and am essentially making an EVA suit out of the material. It's very time-consuming, and honestly a little boring too, but it does require all my focus. I can't afford to misalign any of the very small fractals of xenonite. This needs to withstand the pressure difference between my atmosphere and Grace’s.
Grace is… not dealing with the boredom.
Or at least, not in a way that doesn’t also distract me.
Right now, he’s twirling his glasses in one hand, trying to balance a popsicle stick on the end of his nose, and—most annoyingly—making a clicking noise with his tongue at random intervals.
Click.
The short sound wave bounces off the walls and lights up Grace's side of the lab in my perception.
Click.
Again, my attention is pulled away from my project and over to Grace. Ugh. Come on, Rocky. Focus.
...Click.
“Grace!” I admonish. That seems to startle him. He jerks and the popsicle stick falls off his nose.
“What?” he asks, clearly oblivious that he's being distracting.
“Stop it with that sound.”
He pauses before blowing out a puff of air. “Pfft, who made you the sound police?”
“I did. I am older. You listen to me, baby.”
“Wha—I’m not a baby, I’m a full-grown man!”
“Then act like it!”
Grace slumps in his stool, which does not help his case.
“I’m booored,” he all but whines. “What are you working on?”
“Is a secret,” I say. I’m not trying to be vindictive, it actually is a secret. I want to surprise him with my new suit when it's done.
“Come onnn.”
“Is a surprise,” I amend, my tone coming out shorter than intended.
He huffs and starts spinning in his stool, which has—to my fantastic luck—developed a squeak.
“Why don’t you find something to do, question?” I say, exasperated. “Write one of you papers or play game.”
“I’ve done that already,” he says. I seriously doubt that.
“Try you exercises, then. Ones with the funny poses.” Grace has recently taken up something called ‘yoga’. He claims it’s for exercise, to keep his body fit during this long trip, but it looks ridiculous.
“Hmm…” he seems to mull that over. Good, now I can finally get some work done.
Grace then slaps his knees and stands up. “Great idea, Rocky,” he says in a tone that spells trouble. Oh dear, what is he up to…
“I’ve actually been meaning to try a new pose, but I haven’t had the equipment for it,” he says, walking over toward me where I rest in my xenonite ball. “This one is called a prone back stretch.”
Grace then climbs on top of my xenonite ball, eventually settling face-first across it with his arms and legs dangling toward the floor. It’s completely supporting his weight off the ground, but he’s not super balanced so whenever he shifts his weight I get moved with him.
“Ugh, Grace!” I say, knocking over my project while I attempt to steady the ball. “You moving me! Get off.”
“I’m just doing yoga, Rocks, just like you recommended,” he says, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.
“Lie! You doing this on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he sniffs indignantly. Now, I could just roll forward to dislodge him. I’m much stronger than Grace and would have no trouble doing so, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt my friend. Humans can be so squishy and vulnerable. It's crazy how they're at the top of the food chain.
“You are so childish. Off off off!”
Seemingly determined to prove my point for me, Grace presses his mouth against the xenonite panel under his face and blows a raspberry. It makes an ugly, wet sound—and, even worse, sprays spit all over the panel!
I screech and lean as far away as possible without tipping the weight of the ball over. “Ew! Grace! That is disgusting!”
He laughs (rude!) and decides to do something infinitely worse. He licks the panel.
I screech again and lean further away, and the ball rocks back and forth precariously. That’s it! As much as I’ve come to know and love Grace, I still draw the line at spit. From his mouth. On my stuff.
If he wants to play stupid games, then stupid prizes he shall win.
I focus my attention upwards where Grace is laying, and his stomach is conveniently on top of the mesh panel of my ball. Perfect. I hope this works.
I press my hand up into the mesh and into the softness of Grace's stomach, squeezing a few times. It gives the reaction I had hoped it would; Grace jerks and lets out a surprised squawk of laughter, and the ball wobbles back and forth while he regains his balance. Ha, amazing! I'm so glad that worked—I've never tried this before.
You see, one of the earlier conversations we had during our trip was about senses. Eridians have three: touch, taste, and our main sense, sound. Humans amazingly have five: the same ones as eridians but also sight and smell. We spent a long time talking about those last two, since I literally can’t imagine what it’s like to experience those sensations.
But touch, a sense we share, sparked an interesting conversation. Since touch makes up a third of Eridian senses, Grace, the biologist that he is, had asked if we felt touch sensations like tickling. I may have panicked and said no, which is a lie. I didn’t need Grace to have that knowledge—or to know that I was particularly sensitive—even if our separate atmospheres kept us from touching normally.
I steered that conversation away from eridians and instead asked what tickling is like for humans, hoping to distract Grace. It worked. He happily explained the science and the general areas humans tend to be ticklish. Like a fool.
Encouraged by the reaction and armed with the information from that conversation, I start poking at Grace's middle with gusto.
“W-wait!” Grace says, a few helpless giggles already slipping through his words. He tries to draw his arm in to protect himself, but the movement sends the xenonite ball teetering sharply. “Don’t! I’ll f-fall!”
“Then get off,” I laugh, although I don't want him to do so anymore—not when I’m starting to have fun. All traces of my boredom are long gone.
He tries to get his forearms and knees under himself to lift his middle away from the attack, but a well-coordinated poke to either side of his bellybutton makes him let out a snort, and he loses balance and control of his limbs. His knees slide out from under him and his body slams back down on top of the ball, and back into my tickling fingers.
“Stahahp it!” he laughs, a wide smile adorning his face. He tries to lean away from my hands—an involuntary move that has drastic consequences—and lets out a hilariously high-pitched shriek when the ball rocks dangerously close to tipping him over.
Ha, for Grace being his name, he is anything but. Every squirm and jerk counteracts his attempts to stay balanced. He just can’t keep still—he’s far too ticklish. What an amazing discovery!
“DohoHON’T!” he yells when I wiggle my fingers into his side and keep them there, adding in a second hand to roughly massage at his bottom rib. That’s the final straw—it tickles way too much to focus on balance and the ball tips forward.
“AhahahAH—oof!” Grace slips and falls unceremoniously right onto his face, his upper body crumpled against the floor while his bent legs remain awkwardly suspended up in the air against the xenonite behind him. It’s such a goofy position, and once I’m sure Grace isn’t hurt by the fall, I lose it. Bright laughter bursts out of me at the ridiculous sight of him. He looks absolutely absurd—and like a massive dork.
“🎶Hahaha🎶! Grace! Are you ok?”
“Mmmph,” Grace replies, his face smushed into the floor. He does an inelegant wiggle to flop onto his side, and shimmies away from my xenonite ball until he can finally get his knees under himself.
He points an accusing finger at me.
“N-never do that again,” he says, trying to sound authoritative. However, the smile on his face and the traces of laughter in his voice undermine him entirely, revealing his true feelings: he totally had fun too.
“Don’t be annoying again. If you do, you need to sleep with one eye awake,” I counter playfully. I think that’s the human phrase…
Grace chuckles and shakes his head, rising to his feet. “It’s ‘sleep with one eye open’, Rocks.”
Mmm, whatever. Doesn’t matter, that was still really fun. I’m not used to being on this side of this type of play. Typically it’s me who has to fight off the tickly hands of my siblings or Adrian, laughing myself stupid all the while. It's refreshing to be able to dish it out finally, especially since it seems Grace is equally as sensitive as I am.
Now I’m very motivated to finish my new suit. I can’t wait to interact with Grace more closely—and have many more dumb, playful moments like this one.
———
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Hope you liked it! Also, I think its high time I write Grace some well deserved revenge, yeah? >:)
I am disgusted, and I'm sure you all will be too. Don't know what happened with the screenshots, but it is a fun read. Yes, I know I should've blocked earlier, but I also wanted to see how bad he could get so I could warn everyone.
This man needs an education and psychiatric help. Kels has a fight with him, so you don't have to!
Mb if I’m butchering Rocky, but I’m translating from the book back to English. Also I made the gif hence the low quality because app I used told me to pay for not-garbage quality so hhhshdbsh🤺🤺🤺
Words: 2,7k
Warnings: panic attack, passing out, mention of dying + this is a tickle fic
Lee!Grace, Ler!Rocky
Summary: Grace has a nightmare where he is separated from Rocky. He wakes up shaken, not sure if it was real or not and desperately looks for his friend around Hail Mary. When found, Rocky senses Grace’s emotions and helps him regulate.
Ryland’s decision was final. After a couple of agonizingly long days, he returned his ship after sending the Taumoeba samples to Earth, to reunite with his alien friend. He was nervous, but knew the purpose he came back for. As he spotted the xenonite ship floating nearby, Hail Mary hovered by it and let the beaks of both spaceships face each other as if they were communicating through a silent creaking of their structures.
The teacher put on his red suit and prepared for take off by foot. He stationed himself on the edge of the launch bay and with one switch push that took almost no strength but all his courage, Grace floated through space towards the Eridian spacecraft. As the wire securing him stretched behind, Grace felt anxiety building up in his chest.
Something felt off. Just not quite right. As the ship was nearing closer and closer, its reflection in Grace’s helmet was dim. Not that Rocky’s ship has ever been shiny and bright, but it was dimmer than he remembered.
When he finally touched down and was able to crawl to an entrance tunnel, it was sealed off with durable xenonite panel through which his small headlight shined, revealing black and brown pipeline structure that used to habitat Rocky. But he wasn’t there.
Grace called out, but made no sound. There was no sound in space. All he could hear was his own heartbeat beating in his ears, raising by every passing second. Where is Rocky? Shouldn’t he be out by now? With his incredible hearing, he would’ve already known there’s someone trying to get in. But the ship remained lifeless. He shouted again, banged on the panel, adjusted his headlight and squinted his eyes to see as far ahead of the darkness as he could.
And suddenly… he saw something at the very end of the tunnel. It was so far it looked tiny. Pointy, uneven, as if it was upside down. It looked like… a dead spider laying on its back.
Wait… the double jointed legs… no…
“Rocky?! ROCKY, Is that you?!” Grace called, now panicking as realization washed over him.
Rocky was dead.
Ryland was too late. The Edirian ship run out of fuel and the radiation got to him.
Grace’s breathing and heart rate began to spike at uncomfortable speed as if his lungs and heart were in a dangerous race with each other. His vision has gotten blurry and his body gave up on him, muscles turned to mush, air was heavy and his head momentarily overflowed with fear so strong he could comprehend nothing. He felt like drowning in the sound of his own weeping, heart pounding in his ears. As distress signal was roaring in his head, he cried desperately out for Rocky to come back-
“GHA-!”
A sharp, choked up gasp filled the room as Grace sat straight up, panting so fast his chest could barely keep up. He looked around frantically as everything around him changed. A cold sweat run down his face, hands stiff from an iron grip on the blanket that covered him. He was not on a rescue mission for Rocky, not in his astronaut suit in space. He was on Hail Mary. In bed. Safe.
But again, he was alone.
“Oh crap…” a tired half-sigh-half-whisper escaped his mouth as his face landed in his hands and he slowly rubbed it. “It was a dream. Just a terrifying stupid nightmare! Right…?” Grace looked up at all the xenonite constructions Rocky has made above his head to watch him sleep. They lacked one crucial thing however. Rocky was nowhere to be found. Normally He’d have heard him whispering in his sleep and probably come running at that point, but it was quiet.
“No… no no no no, I-I-I saved Rocky, we… we returned to… or… did we? Oh my god…” Grace wasn’t sure if he was gaslighting himself or not. Did he actually save Rocky or not and his mind kept rejecting that reality? Why does it haunt him in his dreams? It felt like someone pulled out his brain, messed up the organized puzzle that once were his memories and put it back in.
Rocky and Grace would watch each other sleep. Because Eridians are completely paralyzed and helpless while asleep, it’s a deeply ingrained cultural necessity that friends take turns guarding, so… why wasn’t he there?
“Rocky?! Rocky, where are you?!”
Within split second, Grace’s body went into panic mode again. Breathing was obstructed once more, his muscles felt like disorganized pack of jellies and his vision wouldn’t focus. He jolted out of bed, from laying down to standing at attention, frantically calling and looking out for Rocky, not knowing how to handle the wave of uncontrollable panic that was clearly overwhelming him.
“ROOOOCKY!” wow dramatic much
“Grace! Why grace so loud?!”
Grace snapped his head towards the familiar voice and through his blurred vision he finally saw movement as a xenonite ball rolled into his line of sight.
“Rock! You’re…” he wanted to ask his friend why did he leave. He opened his mouth, but no more words came out. Instead the adrenaline wore off, no longer supporting his jelly legs and standing position. Multiplied by the rapid getup from the bed, like an iron deficiency diva that he is, Grace almost fainted. He very much needed this dose of relief, but when it finally hit and his mind would stop for a second, he didn’t expect it to be the only thing keeping him upright.
He fell to the floor, just barely managing to push his arms out and stop his face from plummeting to the ground with the rest of his body. Rocky chirped anxiously, straightening up in his ball and came running to his friend.
“GRACE, GRACE! Grace okay?! Grace died!? Grace sick?” As Rocky started bombarding him with questions, the teacher was still trying to ground himself from the panic attack. He was supporting himself on the elbows, regulating his breathing, his lower half lying on his side, legs curled. He no longer doubted Rocky was here, so why wouldn’t he stop pacing? Why don’t the boxing glove in his chest stop pounding on it from inside out?
He regained just enough strength to pull himself up and hug Rocky through the xenonite. Rocky was startled a bit, but quickly caught on and hugged back in his own way. Grace’s body could finally let down guard and suddenly a wave of sadness hit him, contorting his face unwillingly and tears poured.
He did save Rocky. After a million times that Rocky saved him, deep down he knew - he always knew he did. That freaking dream tricked him, made him doubt himself…
“Grace leaking from face. Why Grace upset?”
“Why did you leave?” He sobbed, face still glued to Rocky’s orb.
“Grace say things while asleep. Rocky try to wake up Grace, but Grace won’t. Rocky was worried, so Rocky go get Armando to check on Grace.” Rocky’s arm pushed through one of the walls of his container and placed it on Grace’s back in a comforting gesture. “Why humans talk why asleep, question?”
“We dream.” Grace kept sobbing, though slowly quieting down. “I’ve had a dream, where I… you…” damn, words are hard. His closed throat wasn’t helping either as it felt like the words were barely squeezing through it.
“What’s dream, question?” Rocky asked very directly like he wasn’t just holding falling-apart-Grace. However, at the request of explanation, his eyes sparked again. He was still shaking uncontrollably, yet wanted to share his knowledge with his friend. Every time Rocky asked a question, Grace would be more than happy to tell him. It reminded him of teaching students back on Earth.
“It’s our brains way of sorting out memories and integrating them with cortex when we sleep.” he started explaining while wiping his eyes with a sleeve. Sniffs and sobs were interrupting every second so much so his diaphragm was hurting, but he tried to push through, feeling Rocky’s embrace through the xenonite container.
“There’s a part called hippocampus that orchestrates it, but sometimes we regain consciousness partly during this process and witness hippocampus’s memory-sorting as a mare. Sometimes it feels like you’re really there even if it’s just in your head. This… is why I was talking in my sleep.” Grace tried to sit up and leaned his back against the wall. As his whole trunk finally relaxed in a more natural position, breathing started to be manageable again.
“So… why Grace scared? What Grace dream?“
“Rocky, can we not… do this right now? I’m still… not quite all there yet.”
“What Grace need? Rocky help.” Grace did not reply. He tilted his head back, so it could rest against the wall too, closed his eyes and kept breathing short, shallow huffs and puffs. Rocky stopped asking questions as he remembered from one of many Ryland’s rambles that humans tend to get overwhelmed with too much information or questions at once. In silence, he carefully approached Grace, emerging halfway through his ball and lying his center in his lap, careful to not pull his whole weight on it.
After a couple of minutes, Grace finally started to come back from the panic room. Rocky noticed early when his heartbeat slowed down and chirped happily upon hearing it.
“Thank you, buddy.” Grace put his hand on Rocky’s body, sticking out of the container, patting him gently with gratitude.
“Rocky happy Grace better. Now Grace tell Rocky about bad dreams, question?” Grace smiled in his heart and shook his head at how smoothly Rocky rerouted the conversation back to it. At least now he could speak without choking on his own breath.
“Not all dreams are scary. Hippocampus filters both good and bad memories and sometimes mixes them. It’s really a coin flip which moment you’ll get. When it’s a scary one, it’s called a nightmare.”
“Grace had nightmare, question?”
“Yes… I… I thought you died, Rocky.” Grace winced at the haunting image of Rocky as an upside down spider crossed his mind.
“I had a nightmare from when your ship was failing. I was so worried I was too late and that I messed up…” before Ryland managed to break down into tears again, Rocky cut in, which he almost never does.
“Rocky not died, statement. Grace did not mess up. Grace save Rocky.” He said with such calmness and cuteness that Grace’s heart overflowed with warmth in an instant. He teared up at those words. Rocky was too pure for this conversation.
“I know, bud. I’m sorry, it felt… too real.” Grace held back a whimper. A short pause on both sides occurred.
…
“Dream stupid, statement.”
“No, Rock, it’s fine, I- it’s my fault-I’m just a bit shaken-“
“Dream makes Grace sad. Dream make Grace think Rocky dead! I don’t like.” Rocky exclaimed as if it was the biggest insult he has ever heard. He might have also been frustrated that no matter what they did, Grace’s face kept leaking, but at least he wasn’t panicking anymore.
“It’s nightmares that are bad. And of course I know you’re not dead, I- I- just- hehehey now!” Grace tried to explain, but fumbled as he felt Rocky climbing on top of him with his full weight now and malicious intent. He slid off the wall and tried to crawl backwards to his bedroom, but he was already immobilized. It was like someone parked a car on top of him. He was not going anywhere.
“Rocky not believe. Grace stressing over stupid dreams!”
“Buddy, I’m- I'm fihihine.” Grace giggled in anticipation as Rocky’s hands extended from the xenonite container and his claws opened, wiggling slightly in the air. Grace knew where this was going and a dumbfounded smile slit his face.
“Rocky hear Grace heart and breathing. Grace still scared and sad. Rocky help!”
“Nohoho- Rocky, DOHOHON’T-“ before Grace could protest, he felt Rocky’s hands land on each side of his ribcage and vibrate violently. He immediately fell on his back, bringing his arms closer to his chest and started laughing loudly. Not giggling - straight up laughing from the belly. Rocky awed melodiously as Grace's warm laughter filled the room.
"Nightmares bad - tickles good!" Rocky teased and Grace cursed in his mind that he had ever taught his alien friend about the concept of tickling. Honestly he could've predicted that it would backfire at some point.
"Wahait- WAHAHAHAIT! Rohohocky, nohoho! I'm betteheheher- I swehehehear!" he squealed, frantically pushing at Rocky's ball pressing him into the floor as his claws moved to the sides of his abdomen. Grace’s body jolted, but xenonite held him in place. The inability to curl up or even shift sideways made the tickles ten times better worse.
"Great, Grace recovering! Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!"
"Rohohock, you're nohohot helpihihihing!"
"Rocky IS helping! Grace happy again! Why Grace so stubborn?" Rocky squished all around his belly sides and lower ribs. It was very sensitive area for Grace, but also like a melt spot. He loved when Rocky did that even though he couldn’t take it.
"Thahat's NOT hohohow you treat ahaha person afteheheHEHER they hahad a p-pahahanic attack!- *squeal* NO, NOHOHO GET AHAHAHAWAY FROHOHOM THEHEHHEHERE!” Grace practically screamed, when Rocky’s third arm snaked up and started squeezing the pudge of his lower belly, landing one claw in the navel and wiggling there stubbornly. Rocky completely ignored Grace’s plea and just kept making high frequency happy noises, very pleased with reactions he was causing.
“ROHOCKY PLEHEHEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAHAN’T MOHOHOHOVE!” Grace begged through his loud laughter. He trashed his head from side to side, his body wiggled helplessly under Rocky as he couldn’t get an inch away from this unbearable feeling. His legs kicked aimlessly and he was slamming his hands on Rocky’s ball, which caused the alien to flinch at how loud it echoed inside. But it didn’t stop him from tickling.
“Ouch! My hearing perception! Grace no slap Rocky’s container. It’s very loud.”
“I’M SAHAHAHAHARRY! STOHOHOP TIHIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHE!” Grace burst out shaking his head, a frantic mix of squeals and laughter pouring out of him, much to Rocky’s amusement. That man was the cutest (and only) human Rocky has ever seen. But he noticed his friend getting tired and decided to resolve the situation with an ultimatum.
“Will Grace stop having nightmares?”
“I CAHAHAHAN’T CONTROHOHOL IT!”
“Then Grace will find Rocky and not panic stupidly?”
“YEHEHEHEHES IHIHI WIHIHILL, ROHOHOCK, STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEASE!” Grace begged through his now slightly hoarse voice, not entirely sure what he just agreed to.
Rocky finally let up. The second he let go of his waist and rolled off to the floor, Grace flopped on his side and curled up into a ball, leftover giggles still escaping his lips. The reassurance and encouragement before the tickling were enough to make him calm down, but with how touched starved Grace was (we’re social creatures after all), in the end he didn’t mind at all.
“Youhuhu are the little tihihickle monster, you know that?” said Grace, still panting and smiling like an idiot.
“Apology.” Rocky moved closer and hugged Grace still curled up on the floor, who flinched at the contact of Rocky’s claws with his side again.
“No mohohore! Rocky-“
“Grace no afraid, Rocky will tickle no more (today). Grace recover from nightmare?”
“Yes, never been better, pal.” He said, rolling his eyes as Rocky just gave him a reality check disguised as tickling the life out of him that he, in fact, is not dead.
“Grace remember this and don’t be stupid.” Rocky moved his center (where his face would be if he had one) in front of teacher’s face and placed his stretched claw on top of his head, which made Grace feel a bit like an immobilized cat grabbed by the nape.
“Grace saved Rocky, now Grace safe, Rocky make sure of that.” Grace just shook his head and embraced Rocky. He finally let his guard down completely and let his body relax here on the ground.
“I know, pal. I know.”
Whatever was left of panic still inside of him, has evaporated with all the laughter Rocky caused. Was it that it was actually quite enjoyable to laugh freely in the arms of a friend?
He patted Rocky through the container and smiled at his very much needed words of great encouragement. He knew he saved him deep down - they saved each other. It was possible he could have failed, but he didn’t.
No dumb nightmare was going to change this awesome reality.
AN: This movie is a new hyperfixtion for me! I needed to get something out for this!
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Grace was a very touched starved person. Spending all this time in space with no other humans around, it could take its tole on you. Especially when you're only friend was a alien. Grace would always push past his feelings about it. It felt silly to him. A grown ass man getting upset about not getting a hug every now and then. Its not like he got many hugs back on earth, the occasional hug from his students, but nothing much. So why was it bothering him now?
Rocky didn't understand that feeling of being touch starved. It was something he never experienced, even when floating in space alone for 46 years. But he always did try to make Grace feel better, He was his best friend after all. When he was only confined to his xenonite ball, he would try his best to show as much affection as possible when Grace hugged him. And as much as Grace appreciated Rocky's efforts, it was never enough for Grace unfortunately, it didn't feel the same when you were hugging a massive ball.
Grace was sitting on the steps of his biodome home, ig had only been months since he forst got here. He was thankful for everything the Eridians gave him. Making him food he could eat, building this home for him, accepting him with open arms. He was looking out at the beach not to far from the biodome. Grace didn't notice it at first, but he heard something, not the usual bulky rolling from rockys xenonite ball, but a soft patter along the sand. Grace looked up, and he Froze. Here was Rocky, running along the beach, not in his ball, but in what looked like a new suit. "Grace! Grace! Rocky make new suit!"
Grace stood frozen, even when Rocky landed at his feet. "Grace like new suit, question?" The suit was tighter, no longer a ball, but hugged Rocky's frame perfectly so be could move around better. But moat of all, he could touch things. The words stuck in Grace's throat as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. Rocky crawled forward. "Grace upset he couldn't touch Rocky. Rocky fix." Grace sucked in air quickly before it got stuck in his throat again. He lifted his arms shakily. Rocky knew almost immediately what Grace wanted and crawled closer, wrapping his two front limbs around Grace tightly. The moment Grace felt that connection, he sniffled, burying his face into Rockys carapace. "Why Grace leaking question? Does Grace not like new suit?" "No, no I do..." Grace let out a watery chuckle. "I'm just happy..." He wiped his eyes. "Humans strange. Leak when sad and happy..." Grace chuckled again. "Yeah... we are..." They stayed like that for a long while. Grace didn't want to let go, neither did Rocky but the looks of it. Seemed like they were both clingy. Grace wanted to take in as much affection as possible. Not wanting to miss out on it again.
"Rocky want to get closer!" Rocky suddenly chirped "Huh? What? Rocky! You're knocking me over!" Grace laughed as he was knocked onto his back. "Wha- what are you doing?!" Grace laughed harder as Rocky started to try worm his way under his sweater. "Rocky getting closer!" "Careful- hey! Cohome ohohon! That tickles!" Grace could feel Rocky's hands press and squeeze into his sides, ribs and stomach. "Rohohocky!" "Oh yes, Rocky forget Grace is sensitive." But even as Rocky said it, Grace could swear he could hear a hint of teasing in Rocky’s voice. "Then stohohop ihit!" Grace exclaimed. "Rocky trying to get comfortable." "My ass!" Rocky was totally doing this on purpose. Wiggling around and digging his crawls into Grace's sides. "Grace squishy. New food helping." "Shuhuhut up!" "Grace so mean to Rocky. Rocky only want to hug." "IhIhI swear tohoho god, roHOHOHOCK! NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!
Grace shrieked when Rockys claws slipped down to his lower stomach as he tried to push his way up further into his sweater. Grace tried to arch his back as he practically squealed. But Rocky's weight held him down. "ROHOCK COHOHOME OHON!" Grace cried out. This felt so stupid. "Grace so mean to Rocky!" "IHIM NOHOT BEHEHEING MEHEHEAN!" Grace kicked and yelped out in protest. "Liar! Grace so mean mean mean to Rocky! Told me to be quiet!" One of Rockys back legs stomped down as he spoke, poking Grace's hips. "Grace apologise now, statement!" Grace realised how stuck he really was, Rocky was under his sweater. He couldn't exactly reach to stop those tickling limbs, and somehow, that made it feel so much worse. When the Eridian got no response other than squeales and laughter, he brought two claws down onto Grace's hips in a drilling motion. "ROHOHOCKY!" Grace thrashed hard, or as much as he could with the weight on top of him. "Grace apologise!" Rocky pushed stubbornly. He was not stopping until he got what he wanted.
"IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!" Grace hadn't realised how red his face must've been. He thanked the stars Rocky couldn't see it either. The moment the apology left his lips, Rocky stopped. Grace lay on the steps panting. "Ahand I'm the mehean one..." Grace countered as he sucked in air. Resting his hand were he could feel the Eridian in his sweater. Rocky started to wiggle again and Grace tensed for more tickles. But none came. What did however was Rocky's head. (Or what would be a head.) Poking out from the neck hole in Grace's sweater. Grace laughed again at how silly it was.
"You're so dumb..." Grace shook his head with a forced smile. Rocky let out a delighted noise, finally going still. "Grace wanted hugs. Rocky fix." Grace huffed. This was going to be a common thing. He could tell. He should expect more hugs, but even more stretched sweaters.
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Fic inspired slightly by the art above which belongs to @blitzzeri 💙
I know its short but I'm on vacation and wanted to get SOMETHING out before I start my requests when I go home. 🙏
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
It's been a while since I last fed the people, but I think I'm back. I finally have an alone space where I can make art without the worry of someone seeing ... well this. I found some inspiration to draw and this is actually the first time ever drawing Martin or John sooooo... hopefully I just keep getting better. Anyway small update aside, I hope everyone enjoys :D
hello!! the last fic that you posted with rocky and Simon was so so so adorable!!! the way you write them is just so cute I can't get enough hfhhdhdhd
could you maybe (ONLY IF YOU WANT TO) make a part 2 of that fic? 👉👈 maybe like after some time Simon finding out that he can give rocky the same affectionate tickly treatment? of course don't feel pressured to do anything!!
thank you so much for feeding the community with your lovely fics!! hope you're doing good
Admissions Pt. 2
𖥔 I'm so HAPPY you liked it!! Admissions is one of my favorites I've written! Also your idea is so amazing, I was so happy to make a part two for you!! Thank you for the compliments and I'm always happy to feed this community!! I feel a little worried about the actual concept for this one but I hope you guys still enjoy! 𖥔
𖥔 Slight spoilers for both movies and book! 𖥔
Summary: Simon asks another simple question about giving affection rather than receiving affection.
Lee!Rocky / Ler!Simon + very brief Lee!Simon
Word count: 4,087
Since our little one-sided tickle fight, Simon seems to have relaxed quite a bit. It's only been two weeks, but he's started talking to Grace now, too. Albeit it's usually short and blunt, with maybe the occasional question here and there, but progress is progress, and I don't think Grace minds one bit. He's just so happy to get him talking in general.
He’s been slightly more open about the affection he wants. Asking for head scratches or just to hold his hand. Although when I had tickled him, I was literally in his lap, he seems to prefer to keep his overall distance. The most he does is lean against me and I do find it rather odd. He prefers I not do this in front of Grace, getting immensely embarrassed and refusing the affection all together.
He's been touchy himself, though. He's continued to pet me, but only on my legs. He never goes higher than my first joint, mainly staying down towards my claw.
We’re lying in the closet. Yes, he’s still insistent that he stays there for now if he’s not staring at us around the ship. He’s supposed to be sleeping right now, but I have a feeling he lied about being tired. He just wanted attention away from Grace.
He's got a leg in his lap again, tugging and pulling at my claw while he looks up off into space. Soft fingers pinch my digits and bend them between his fingers. I hear his head turn, his eyes fixating on me. He stares deep into me, as if he wants me to read his mind. I pretend not to notice.
He waits, looking, and eventually lets out a little huff. I return the noise with my own soft chord and his brows furrow together.
“What, question?” I ask as I tinker with a small figurine, one of Simon actually. It's a little fun to have a new muse.
He bites at his lip and fidgets with my claw some more. He shifts to sit up on the blankets and pillows thrown together in a pile in the cramped room, straining with his one arm.
“Um. I wanna ask you something—to do something.” He corrects, looking away. He sounds nervous, not embarrassed like I thought he would. We've made good progress. I didn’t think he would be scared to ask for stuff like these requests anymore; maybe flustered, sure, but not scared.
I place my equipment down and shift my carapace his way, giving him my attention. “What Simon want, question?” I add some amusement in my chords, hoping to ease his nerves a little.
He sits and thinks for a moment, very still, and then looks back to stare at me. His eyes are trying to read me before he even asks. I hear him swallow hard, trying to build up confidence.
“Can I, um, pet you more?” I make a confused chirp.
He asks like Im going to say no. I wish he would stop expecting that. Grace asks questions because he's curious, while Simon asks them because he's afraid. I want him to be curious.
I was so sure he was going to ask for a little more affection. Maybe something closer to me. Maybe the claw in his lap to softly scratch under his chin but I’m surprised.
And confused.
“Simon is petting Rocky now.” I hear his heart rate pick up slightly at my statement.
“Yes.” He looks down at my claw in his lap and squeezes it, then rubs his thumb in a circle against me. “I-I mean, like other parts of you?” He looks away sheepishly and I see the end of his tail flick.
That’s a new request.
“I just—I like to do it and ya know…you like it too—well, I think you do.” He grumbles with a frown while squeezing my claw harder. “I don’t know…it’s nice to do that for you…”
Simon is asking to care for me. Usually it’s the other way around. It's different. Simon wants me to be happy too. I feel warm and giddy about that.
“Of course." I trill happily while letting out some soft snickers. He throws me a glare while his cheeks pool with blood. He is so unknowingly sweet. I pull my arm from his lap and hold it out with another, welcoming him into me if he wants.
He looks hesitant but ultimately scoots closer until he’s just bumping into me. I don’t wrap my limbs around him but rather let them lie on the floor on either side. I don’t want to overwhelm him.
I wait as he sits there looking awkward. He raises his hand to my carapace but stops and lets it fall back to his side. He looks me up and down.
“Simon okay, question?” I ask gently, nudging one of his legs with my own. “Do not have to pet Rocky if Simon does not want—“
“No! No. I do want to. I have wanted to. Like Grace does…” He admits, frowning more, but I hear the blood rush to his ears, too. “I’m just worried.” He reaches beside himself and squeezes the claw I just pushed into his leg, like he's holding himself there so he doesn't run away.
“Why, question?” I let out a perplexed rumble. Humans are so confusing. It is good affection he wants to give; what is there to worry about?
“If, like, I hurt you. Or make you upset. What if I do something you don’t like and then you hate me or—?” I soften at his words, gently pulling him closer to me. He tenses up, his arm in the air away from my body, but eventually melts into my side, resting his head on top of my carapace. I decide not to tell him that he would probably never be strong enough to actually hurt me. Humans take offense to that; well, Grace did.
“Simon can not do anything to make Rocky hate Simon.” He pulls away, his face full of skepticism, as always. "Rocky tell Simon if it does not like touch. This solution okay, question?” I suggest, hoping to ease his worries.
I'm so happy he's asked for this. His stupid human brain almost stopped him. Good thing he asked anyway.
He nods his head slightly, pulling back to put a little space between us. I pull the claw with his hand clasped around it up in front of us.
“Simon start here.” I suggest.
“…okay.”
I watch as he lets go and lightly runs his fingers over my family crest engravings, something he’s done consistently for the past two weeks, but he looks focused now. It’s like he’s really thinking about this small action. He's so careful, too careful, even.
He has these claws that came from his mutations. They don’t seem that sharp compared to other tools I’ve used, more blunt than sharp. They're definitely longer than Grace's, but I wouldn't actually describe them as long overall. He runs them over my shell, scratching lightly.
He gives me a quick glance, like he's checking up on me and I respond with a soft trill. He lets go and then softly grabs at the top section of my leg. I feel the light pressure as he squeezes.
I let out a hum of content and see a smile grow on his face, his pointy teeth sticking out of the corners. It's small, hesitant even. It's like he's not sure he's allowed to be happy right now.
“I-is this okay?” He glides his fingers upwards.
“Yes. Feel very nic—“ I cut myself off with a small squeak. I tense up and he jerks back, ripping his hand from me.
"Shit—! I didn’t mean to! A-are you okay? I knew I was gonna—“ His heart leaps in his chest.
"Rocky okay!” I frantically trill, trying to calm him. He starts scooting back; he looks scared. His breathing picks up and becomes erratic while he grabs at his chest. I feel myself start to get anxious at the familiar signs of a panic attack.
“I knew—I knew I was gonna hurt you! I should have just stayed quiet!” He starts to shake, digging his heels into the floor to push away further. “Why couldn't I just stay fucking quiet?!"
Although I don’t really want to do this, especially in his frantic state, I grab an ankle and pull him back towards me. He lets out a squeak but stops moving. His chest heaves as he claws at his chest and neck.
“Simon. Rocky okay. Not hurt. Simon do nothing wrong. Very gentle.” I try to hum softly. I resort to pulling him back close to me. I reach a claw up and rub at his cheek. I notice the start of tears welling in his eyes, but his breathing starts to even out.
I move my claw down to his chest, pressing it into the back of his hand that rests there.
“Breathe. It okay.” His eyes flutter closed as I lift his hand in mine, interlocking our fingers, and gently hold it there against his heart. I rub slow circles into his skin and start humming softly. We sit like that for a while.
He suddenly breaks the silence. “I-I was being selfish… I shouldn’t h-have asked—”
I whistle softly. “Simon. Is okay. Want Simon to ask.”
“Are you sure? You—you made a noise—you flinched!” He rips his hand from mine and points like he's interrogating me, glassy eyes full of dread.
“Joint sensitive. Rocky good, good, good.” He sits for a moment. I hear his eyes look down at his hand and then press his thumb into the claws on his fingers, like he's testing to see how sharp they are. To see how much pressure is too much and whether he had just used too much.
“Sorry.”
“No apology.” I hum.
He looks away, clearly upset with himself, whether it be the initial contact or his reaction after. Maybe both.
“Sensitive like it hurts to touch?” He asks, clearly wanting more reassurance.
“No. Ticklish like Simon. Not hurt.” I say, pointing to myself.
“Oh.” He stays silent in thought for a second. “Wait, you can be ticklish too?” Low chuckles spill from his mouth.
“Yes.” I feel myself warm with embarrassment, but I also relax as I see him calm down. I shift a little closer, but he instinctively pulls away.
This situation put us back a few steps. He was really doing so well, too. He's even comfortable enough to ask for more, but now he’s worried about touching again. I lightly tap a claw against the floor in slight frustration.
“Hm. Simon want to try, question?” I’ll show him it’s nothing to worry about. That he did nothing wrong. Grace tickles me from time to time, though he prefers to be on the receiving end as much as he won't admit it. I think this would be beneficial for us.
He looks shocked, his eyebrows go up then right back down, looking hard at me. “You want me to…tickle you?” I feel myself fluster more. Not really just to tickle me but to pet me in general and show it’s okay.
“Yes. If make Simon feel better. Show nothing hurt. Show Rocky trust Simon.” A sigh leaves him.
“You don’t have to do that, Rocky.” He mumbles with a frown. He seems to cower into himself, bringing his shoulders up defensively. It's like he's physically scared at the notion of touching me again.
“Rocky want.” I want to make sure he knows. I want him to know that even if he did hurt me or make me uncomfortable, I'm not going to hate him forever for it.
He looks very unsure, moving away slightly again. I wonder if it’s the ‘atmosphere’ after what just happened. Humans are very sensitive to the social 'atmosphere,' so I try to lighten it up a little.
And maybe I’m trying to antagonize him a little bit, hoping he’ll retaliate.
I reach forward and grab his thigh, squeezing softly. He lets out a squeak and his leg jerks. I hope this isn't an overstep.
“Ah-Rohocky?!” His hand scrambles down to my claw, latching on. I take a second claw and my first and move to his inner thigh on both sides, scratching at his skin. Although he looks frantic, I don't think he's uncomfortable.
“EEHEHAHAhaha w-wahahait—!!” He squirms, trying to pull his legs up while his tail wags behind him, which soothes my mind.
“No.” I dig into the muscles more. I slowly inch upwards, making him squeal.
“OKAY—OKAYHIHEHAhaha *snrk* I-I’ll dohoho ihihIHIHIT—!!!” He squeaks out, trying to pry my claw away.
I squeeze a few more times before I pull back. He huffs and tries, and fails, to give me a frown. I giggle at his blushing face while reaching out an arm to him. He hesitantly takes it into his lap once more.
“You’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much, right?” He glances at me.
“Yes. Will tell.” I answer softly. “Joint sensitive. Simon touch there.” I instruct, pointing to where my arm and carapace meet.
He gives me a face I can’t read but ultimately reaches for my leg. I can’t help the little flinch I give in response, making him pause for a second but then he continues.
He runs his fingers along the joint and I freeze up with a chirp. I try to hold in my laughter, squirming around. I hear a smile come to his face as he applies more pressure. My arm starts to retract and I stagger back before I can stop myself, and to my surprise, Simon follows. He moves closer, sitting directly next to me, digging his claws into the sensitive spot.
"Sihihimon—ihiheheha!" My legs become wobbly and I stumble to the floor.
“I didn’t think you would be able to be ticklish, you know, being a rock and all. Why your joints?” He asks, squeezing lightly. I continue to laugh, struggling to gather my thoughts to answer him. He waits a few seconds and lets out a hum.
“Um. I don't know if you said anything or if you did. what you said.” He grins as his hands still. “Maybe the translator can't pick it up.” He looks over to the laptop on the floor a few feet away from us.
“Ah-apology! Ohonly expohosed insihide of carAHAHPACE—!!!” He starts to scratch again with a giant grin on his face. "SEHENSAHATIVE—!!! HEHEhelp t-to kehehEEP—AHAHE—pahaharasites ahahand smahahall creahaHATURES OHOHOUT!” He pulls high-pitched trills from me as he scratches faster. My legs wiggle out on the floor, trying to push away.
I weakly push at him, but he just swats my claws away and continues.
"Interesting," he mumbles to himself, slowing his hand. “You make such fascinating sounds. It’s so squeaky.” I feel my body heat up more at what I think is his version of a compliment. I’m not used to being on the receiving end of those.
“Shuhut mohohouth!!” I squirm as he lets out a laugh.
I hear a hissing noise, knowing exactly what it is. His hands stop and he pulls away for a moment, watching the steam start to pour from my vents. He smiles more, much to my dismay.
“This means you're embarrassed, right? I’ve seen you do it a few times with Grace. He always makes fun of you.” I try to curl up on myself while he pokes fun at me, folding my arms underneath my body. I decide to not respond.
He lets out a knowing hum and trails his fingers down to my first joint, making me squeak and kick out my leg. He grabs hold, trying to pull it from my body.
“Give it here, Rock.” He snickers. I fight with myself, trying to relinquish my arm back to him. He’s enjoying himself, and I don’t want that to stop, but my body isn’t cooperating.
“Rohocky cahan’t.” Light giggles spill from me as I pull against him as lightly as I can. He lets go with a frown as I pull my leg tightly back into myself.
“Fine. Is your carapace ticklish too?” I hear him ask as he rotates around me, dragging his fingers along another joint.
“Ihihi—yehehes!”
“Can I try?” He stops and pulls away; more steam billows from me at his request.
“I-if Simohon wan—“
“Yes. Simon does want.” I hate that he used that word. Sure, he’s asked for things but this is the first times he said he wants something, not that it would be nice or me offering it for him and letting him respond with a yes or no. He said he wants it, and who am I to say no when he finally has the courage to say that?
“O-okay.” I trill and brace myself for the sensation, tensing up but nothing happens. Simon lets out a snort.
“You gotta uncurl. Can’t get to you with your legs covering most of your body.” He pokes at one of my legs, then brushes his hair up and out of his face.
“Ah, right. Apology.” Let's try this again. It takes some mental effort but I do unfurl myself, leaving my carapace vulnerable. My legs tremble, struggling to hold myself up and I hear that he notices, frowning slightly.
He moves himself up against me to my surprise, lifting a leg out and over his shoulder, I’m assuming to make sure I can’t curl it back up.
“Here. Lean on me.” And I do, shifting some of my weight onto him. He lets out a satisfied hum as my legs seem to steady a little more.
I hear as he brings his hand up to my side and I flinch while frantic anticipatory giggles vibrate through me. He lightly scratches my side, gently, from side to side. He seems to frown at my reaction, tail flicking in response.
“Did you lie? You're barely laughing.” His eyebrows knit together as he presses in more, quickening his pace.
“Rohocky not lie. Simon no tickle right.” I state, acting offended that he would even consider me a liar.
"Well, it seemed to be working a minute ago.” He teases with a smile. I feel myself fluster more. It’s nice to see him so playful, but those little comments are getting to me. He lightly pokes at my joint again, proving his point.
“CAHhahe—carapce less sensitive to touch. Scratch or tracing not work well.” He frowns again, shifting against me.
"Well, how do I do it then?” His head cocks to the side.
I stay silent. I contemplate just keeping this information to myself. He can already tickle me elsewhere; he doesn’t really need to know—
"I'm waiting.” I feel myself tense up more at his voice.
“...”
"You'll tell me eventually," and before I can ask what that means, he's scratching along the underside of the joint of the leg he's got around his shoulder.
“EEAHAhehe nohohoooo!”
"Yes." He stops suddenly. “I really, really want to know.” He’s using this very serious voice. I can't tell if it’s playful or real. I huff, tapping a leg against the floor. It’s like he knows that if he says it like that, I’ll tell him. He and Grace can be so similar sometimes. Maybe I’m just too soft with them.
“Tapping and vibration.”
“What?”
“Tapping and vibration work on carapace.” I admit.
He grins while silently bringing his hand up and taps lightly with a finger, pulling soft giggles from me. Then he does it harder, adding the rest of his digits and I let out an embarrassing squeal, causing me to let out another hissing sound of steam.
“WAHahait—!!!”
“So why does tapping and vibrations only work?” He asks while moving his hand lower. I feel my arms try and curl up again but the two fail with Simon in the way. He sounds like Grace with all these questions. Curious, not frightened.
“H-HAHARD OUTSihide!! Nohot feheheel muhuch!!” He drums his fingers back and forth in an agonizing way. “Vibratiohohons t-trahavel—THROHOUGH caharapaahace t-to squihishy IN-side—! Mahahake tihickle!!” I squeak out the best I can. He stops for a moment, looking out at nothing.
“Vibrations… hm. I have an idea. Can I try?” I feel my anxiety spike at his question as he eagerly looks back down to me. There’s no way I can say no to that face.
“Hm. Yehes.” I warble with uncertainty.
He pulls me close into a hug, something he has not done without me being the first to offer. He doesn't even seem to notice, but I definitely did, though I decide not to point it out. I’m basically in his lap now. I carefully wrap three legs around his middle while the other two hold me up. I unconsciously start to rub his back and he smiles more. Actually it’s more of a smirk.
“What Simon doing, question?” Although I’m not going to complain about a hug, I’m not really sure the gesture is a new idea.
“Hold on. Give me a second.” I wait a moment and then I hear it. The familiar rumble of his purring. I make a confused trill in response. But then it gets louder. It’s never this loud, always so soft. Then it’s stronger still and I feel myself squirm against him.
“Can you feel it?” He questions while holding me close. I do feel it; the strong vibrations coming from his chest flow through me, and it's overwhelming.
“Sihi-MON!! I-IHIHIT THIHICKLE—!!!” I desperately claw at his back, holding onto his shirt. I didn’t know he could purr that loud. I guess he was always suppressing it. He did always seem embarrassed about it.
My legs give out and I collapse fully into his lap and he just curls up around me, purring louder. He almost sounds like some sort of machine, maybe an engine. He’s got this satisfied look on his face, smooshing his cheek into the top of my carapace. I can tell he finds this amusing.
"Good." I see his tail start to wag.
It’s not good. Bad even.
It’s been so long since a sensation like this ripples through my body. The buzzing is driving me up a wall. Between the vibrations and sound waves, I'm feeling overstimulated.
“You're so warm. No wonder Grace is always attached to you.” He sighs and I swear it gets even stronger the more he relaxes into me. “Ya know, I could probably fall asleep like this.”
“NAHOHOhohoho!”
“Yeeesss~ And you’d have to stay here the whole time as a purr in my sleep. All. night.” He hugs tighter as I pull. “So sleepy…” I hear his eyes close, feeling his body slump more.
“NONONO—NOHOHOT AH-allowed tohoho sleheheep!” I all but screech, trembling in his arms.
“I thought that's why you came in here to begin with? I said I was tired, and you came to watch. Are you refusing to watch me sleep, Rocky? I'm offended.” I feel his hand lift slightly and then start to tap against me, up and down the length of my carapace.
“SHIHImohon—IHIHEHEAHA—!!!”
“Jesus Rocky. So loud. I’m tryin to sleep here.” He gives an evil smirk, rubbing his face against my body like he's getting more comfortable. The buzzing in his chest is so loud, I can hear it vibrate his vocal cords as he talks.
“IHIHEHAHA—STOHOHOP—SHIHIMOHON—!!!” He suddenly tries to pull away from me, but I've unknowingly latched onto his shirt, pulling him close. I feel his purring slowly go back to its normal quiet vibrations. I can still feel it; I’m too sensitive. I wiggle softly against him, little chirps and pleas rumbling from me, as more steam flows from me.
“Rock. You have to let go or it’s gonna keep tickling you. I-I can't get it stop completely right now.” He bites at his lip, pulling away more. I force my claws open, and he pushes himself away, dropping me gently back onto the floor. He stays close enough to reach out a hand and pet my carapace soothingly.
My laughter slowly fades, and Simon moves closer again. He leans up against me, absentmindedly petting across my carapace. I try to hold as still as possible, worried if I disturb him, he'll stop. Slow scratches, rubbing in small circles. The same way I pet Grace. The same way I pet Simon.
I notice how he's petting without thinking about it anymore. Without asking for permission first.
𖥔 I almost didn't post this one bc I found the whole purring concept a little silly for some reason even though I thought it was cute idea, i was about to rewrite this entire thing 𖥔
Summary: Ryland Grace can’t sleep. Rocky is very confused by this and wants to help
⚠️⛔️ WARNING⛔️⚠️ this is a tickle fic! No likey no readie! Thank you 💙
⚠️⛔️SPOILER WARNING⛔️⚠️ takes place about 2/3rd through the book or halfway through the movie!!
You would think that space, being silent, would be a phenomenal place to sleep.
There was no air outside for sound to travel through and the sounds of the Hail Mary were negligible after months of exposure. The only sounds to occasionally catch Grace's attention were that of his roommate, who still insisted on watching him sleep.
"Eridian culture".
The new "because I said so".
Grace huffed, turning to his side and tightly cocooning his blanket around his shoulders.
Despite the seemingly optimal conditions (and going to bed over two hours ago), sleep still hadn't come.
He tried counting sheep, only for his mind to wander as soon as it got bored.
He tried meditating, but the silence was way too loud.
He tried remembering all the elements of the periodic table in numerical order. Then when that was too easy, alphabetical order.
This was silly. He felt silly.
I can identify single-cell star-eating organisms, be kidnapped from my everyday life to help save humanity, get launched into space, survive an induced coma, and only cry a little bit about it, but I can't make myself fall asleep?
After his attempt at deep-pressure soothing via his thin blanket, Grace rolled to his back, flopping his arms to the sides with a dramatic sigh.
Maybe Armando would have warm milk if he asked?
Heavy footfalls and the clinking of a xenonite hamster ball approached.
Great. Grace thought. My nanny is here.
He had kept his eyes closed through all his attempts, but hadn't tried to mask his breathing or sounds of frustration. He knew Rocky would hear him regardless.
"Grace okay, question?" Rocky asked, his musical voice spoken over by the translator.
He opened his eyes, rolling his head to look at him. His carapace was tilted as if looking up at him, the stoney surface showing more emotion than it should.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'm alright." Grace said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sitting up and crossing his legs underneath him.
The spin drive was active, a test in the lab needing to be run "overnight". Sleeping in gravity was nicer anyways, more natural feeling.
Grace had half a mind to give up on sleeping and just get back to work. If he couldn't rest, he might as well be productive.
"Why Grace not sleep, question? Rocky too loud, question?" Rocky asked, concern in his voice. Or, at least, what Grace had begun to interpret as concern.
"No, you're not being too loud." Grace said, shaking his head. "It's my brain that's too loud."
Rocky made a curious noise, his front legs tapping excitedly. "Humans can hear brain? Amaze!"
Grace held up a hand, chuckling. "No, I can't really hear my brain. I can think in words and sounds, but I can't hear the tissue."
Rocky tilted again, seeming to understand.
"I mean, my brain is busy. Too many thoughts."
Rocky thought for a moment, rocking his hamster ball back and forth.
They had talked about their biological differences enough that they both somewhat understood what "sleep" meant for one other. For Rocky, it was more of an involuntary hard shut-down than what humans had, Grace having to explain circadian rhythm a few times before it clicked.
Being unable to sleep was something briefly brought up, but Rocky hadn't seen until now.
The Eridian looked around the room, thinking.
"Rocky help, question?" He asked. "Don't know how, but Grace show."
Grace hummed, trying to think if they shared enough biology for sleep tricks to be shareable. It was hard to say, but not necessarily impossible.
"I'm assuming you wont let me go back to work without sleeping first?" Grace said, leaning his head on his hand. Rocky shook his carapace.
"Must sleep. Sleep important, statement. Human stupid without sleep."
Well, he wasn't wrong.
Grace sighed, nodding slowly.
"We can try. Any ideas?"
Rocky paused before shaking again. "No. Human sleep different from Eridian sleep. What help humans sleep, question?"
"Generally," Grace started, fidgeting with his hands. "There's a few known tricks. Counting things in your head, clearing your mind, moving your pillow to the other end of the bed, warm drinks. Some even recommend pretending to be asleep, funny enough."
Rocky nodded, taking it all in.
He raised his hands, looking between them as his fingers twitched like he did when working something out.
He looked up.
"Thirty-four." Rocky said, nodding definitively.
Grace paused.
"Thirty-four what, buddy?"
"Things in your head. Thirty-four. Twenty-eight teeth, one tongue, two eyes, one nose, two ears. Thirty-four things in your head." Rocky said, trailing off in confusion when Grace laughed. The human flopped to his back on his mattress, sighing.
"Grace sleep now, question?" Rocky said, hopeful. He looked up at him eagerly, front legs straightened to peak over the edge of the bed. Grace shook his head.
"I meant counting objects or animals to tire your brain out." He said, grinning.
Rocky let out an embarrassed hum, sitting with a loud thunk. "Strange... Understand."
Grace stared to the ceiling, thinking.
"Music helps sometimes. What does music sound like on Erid?"
Rocky paused, thinking.
"Need new word."
Grace sat up, leaning for the nearby laptop. Even with their growing shared vocabulary, he kept it nearby just in case.
"Music is..."
Huh.
How do you describe music?
"Its like, sounds and words to a rhythm, meant to sound pretty?" He tried, hoping it was enough to get close.
"Sound that tells stories?" Rocky asked. "Makes emotion, question?"
"Exactly!" Grace said, finding a slot to create the new word.
"Eridian word is 🎶." He said, the musical tone resonating.
Grace entered the word, nodding thoughtfully.
"What does Eridian music sound like?" He said, setting the laptop aside and turning to him.
"It sound beautiful! Like Eridian word, but longer..." Rocky said, his tone sounding unsure. "Need more words but don't know what words."
Grace laughed. "It's okay, I think I understand."
He reached to the laptop, pulling up some audio recording software.
"Can you sing something for me? I want to hear it."
Rocky tilted again. "Need new word."
"Its when you make music with your voice."
Rocky started, suddenly nervous. He stood, rolling his ball to move back from Grace.
"Rocky is bad at music. Bad, bad, bad." He said, scuttling back and forth as if anxious.
"It can't be that bad! Just something short, I'm really curious." Grace insisted, offering a sincere smile.
"Grace sing first!" He said, stomping a foot into the xenonite.
Now, it was Grace's turn to be nervous. "Oh, no. I'm very bad at singing. Totally tone deaf, actually!" He said, flushing slightly.
"Don't know those words. Grace sing first or Rocky not sing." Rocky said, grumbling.
Grace raised his hands in surrender, blush deepening at the insistence. "Fine, no one's singing today!"
Grace crossed his arms, tapping his fingers as he leaned back against the wall. Stage fright, he guessed, was also a strange universal phenomenon.
"Maybe I just need some exercise or something. Run my body to exhaustion so I can conk out." Grace said idly.
Rocky perked up. "Idea!"
He rolled closer, tapping his legs. "Rocky and Grace play game, question?"
"Game?" Grace said, quirking an eyebrow. "What kind of game?"
Rocky gestured wildly, his voice excited. "Exercise game! Need new word, Eridian game. Players try to keep each other on floor?"
Grace immediately understood.
"Wrestling?" He typed it into the translator as Rocky gave his version. "Like, two people fighting, but not to hurt each other?"
Rocky nodded. Grace chuckled.
"Rocky, you would win. You're much heavier than me."
"Yes, yes, yes! Rocky heavy, make Grace tired fast!" He backed up, making space between them and waving Grace over, offering to let him have the first move.
He did have a point.
"You're also in a ball. You could just run me over."
Rocky scuttled his legs rapidly, trilling. "Rocky will play fair. Trust! Come fight Rocky, squishy human!"
Grace chuckled at his enthusiasm, shrugging and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. "Okay, just be careful. I'm pretty sure you could snap my bones if you wanted to."
Rocky made a sound akin to laughter, moving into an overblown fighting stance. He stretched his legs in a slow pattern around himself, steps wide like a five-legged cowboy in a quickdraw match.
"Rocky will be careful."
Rocky suddenly lurched forward, making Grace yelp as he latched onto his ankles through the "mesh" front section of the xenonite ball. With a tug, he dragged Grace off of his bed with surprising ease.
Grace winced as he crashed to the floor before yelping as Rocky tried to clamber on top of him. He kicked, connecting with the ball and rolling it backwards a few feet as the Eridian scrambled within to regain his footing. Grace rolled to his front, crawling on all fours to gain some distance as his friend charged again, knocking him onto his side.
Grace gasped as he fell, feet flailing to gain purchase to escape. On his side, he couldn't get very fair before Rocky rolled into his chest, making him lie flat on the floor as he climbed up to stand on top of him. The human took a moment to regain his breath before struggling again, cringing as Rocky rapidly shot out his arms to adjust the ball with every movement.
With how Rocky looked when he ran and skittered, Grace was very glad he didn't have too bad of arachnophobia. It was a little unsettling.
"Y'know, you're pretty scary when you're running at me like that." Grace said through gritted teeth, trying to catch the Eridian off guard and throw him off. Rocky just balanced his weight, unbothered, much to the humans dismay.
Grace laughed, the sound further pressed out of him under the weight and the rush of endorphins. "Predator animal that's not real, made up as a scary story."
"Oh!" Rocky said, perking up. "Eridian word is 🎶🎵!" He rocked back and forth in his ball, making Grace wheeze. He still tried to squirm, but it was clear he wouldn't be able to get away.
"Eridians have many of those stories!"
Grace looked up with wide eyes, suddenly curious. "Really? You'll have to tell me some sometime." He grinned, excited by the idea of sharing campfire tales with someone brought up in a completely different culture. He'd have to jot some down for the scientists back home.
"Rocky tell Grace one right now!" Rocky said, backing up a little so the ball sat over his stomach. It wasn't the most comfortable, but he could breathe a little better, so Grace took it.
Grace propped himself up on his elbows to look at Rocky, curious. "Right now? I thought we were wrestling."
"Story is relevant, statement." Rocky said, tapping a leg as punctuation. Grace shrugged.
"Long time ago," Rocky started, his voice carrying a dramatic tone over the sound of the translator. "There was 🎶🎵🎶🎶. She was a large 🎶🎵, like Eridian, but big, big, big."
As he spoke, he gestured animatedly, making many different signs and movements with his arms as if acting out the scene. Grace was captivated, imagining a massive Eridian with powerful legs that shook the ground with each step.
"🎶🎵🎶🎶 was a kind being. Big, but gentle and calm. Old Eridian story say she watch over lonely Eridians when they sleep and keep dumb Eridians out of trouble."
In Grace's mind, he pictured the lumbering beast of a creature standing guardian over an Eridian dwelling, a loyal sentinel in the eternal night of Erid's dense skies. Grace smiled as he listened, allowing his overtired imagination to wander.
"She was known for another thing too. A punishment all Eridians fear." Rocky paused dramatically, his hands freezing in the air as if waiting. Grace raised an eyebrow.
"Punishment? I thought you said she was nice."
Rocky nodded, waggling his carapace. "She is."
Grace made a confused face, his nose scrunching up. "Then what..?"
"She was also known as 🎵🎵🎶🎵🎶🎶." Rocky said, looking down in a way that made it seem like that was supposed to strike a chord.
"Uh... I don't know what that meANS-" Grace shouted as Rocky dropped his arms, pressing his hands through the xenonite mesh to skitter briefly over Grace's stomach. He pulled away, watching as realization bled across his human friends features.
In the early biology explainations, there was a shocking number of shared traits between humans and Eridians. Nerve endings were one that had confused Grace, originally thinking that Rocky's sense of touch would be dulled by his carapace. In reality, that was the furthest from the truth. Rocky had reported that Eridians were actually extremely touch sensitive.
Which meant Eridians could be ticklish. A theory that was confirmed as Grace felt a familiar, overwhelming swirl of anxiety in his gut.
Eridian legends had a tickle monster.
And he had just fallen for it. Hook, line, and sinker.
"Oh... Oh god no..."
A nervous smile began to push it's way across his face, sleep deprivation preventing him from suppressing it. Rocky clicked his hands together, chirping in amusement.
"Actually bud, I think I'm tired out. The wrestling and the story did it for me!" Grace said, arms shaking with the instinct to protect himself. Rocky shook his carapace.
"No, Rocky not done helping. Must make sure you sleep."
Grace tried to scoot backwards, unable to slide himself from under Rocky's weight. Rocky chittered.
"Rocky will be careful to not hurt stupid squishy skin." He reassured, adjusting before digging in.
Ryland Grace, humanities last hope, squealed.
Despite the xenonite and the rock hard fingers, Rocky was surprisingly gentle. Grace knew this, logically, after watching him with his xenonite building device, but who'd have known?
Grace threw his head back, his arms shooting to push against the hamster ball as he let out a stream of high pitched giggling. Rocky only had two hands working him over, pinching and scribbling across his belly and lower ribs, but it was so bad. Grace couldn't tell if it was the months without physical contact or if he was just unbearably sensitive.
"Rocky-! Knock it off!" He begged through his laughter, yelping as the tormenting fingers vibrated into his sides. Behind Rocky, he kicked his legs, banging his heels against the floor. Rocky was unfazed.
The Eridian rolled forwards to reach a little higher on Grace's torso, poking at his ribs. With each prod, the human jumped, trying desperately to grab Rocky's hands. This got a laugh out of the alien.
"How human so squishy, but have hard stuff in some places, question? Why not hard on the outside? Human body make no sense." Rocky teased as he poked, making frustrated laughter burst from his friend.
"I've told you about bones before!"
"Yes, but still make no sense." A third arm joined in, all three moving in rapid succession to make Grace collapse into hysterics. "Humans laugh funny."
What the human wanted to say was "Yeah? Well, yours is funnier!".
What actually came out was a garbled, alphabet soup of a sentence, not even registering with the translator. Rocky looked far too amused.
Suddenly, he stopped. Grace wiped tears from his eyes as he looked to his friend quizzically.
"T-that was mean." He said, residual laughter bubbling up.
"Rocky have idea." Rocky said, quickly moving off of his torso. Grace rolled over, planning to stand up, but he felt a weight roll over his lower legs.
Then, the weight started pulling at his shoes.
"Rocky! Rocky, don't you dare!" He turned as much as he could, putting on his angry-teacher voice. Rocky wiggled one shoe off, pushing it to the side.
"Rocky hasn't seen weird human feet. Want to see for science, statement." He pulled at the other shoe, the third arm pulling off the sock of the previous foot. Grace tried to kick out, but he wasn't able to do much more than bend his knees, making his upper body slide back towards Rocky.
"No you don't! You're just messing with me!" He tried to army-crawl away with his arms. They just slid against the floor uselessly.
"No~ sarcasm. Rocky is always genuine, sarcasm."
If he weren't already laughing in anticipation, he probably would have snorted.
"You suck!" Grace said, giving up and bracing himself. He tucked his arms under his chest, pressing his face into his hands.
"Grace suck more."
With that, stoney fingers swiped over his soles.
Grace cackled.
He writhed, struggling renewed as he clawed at the floor, pulling at his legs with all of his strength. Shrill screams laced the mirth, echoing off of the walls and through the ship. He curled in on himself, reaching back and swiping at the xenonite ball. He stretched out, reaching to grab something, anything, to pull himself out of Rocky's grip. The feeling sent electricity up his legs and straight to his spine, making him flop around like a fish.
"Grace is loud! So loud! Hurts Rocky ears!" Grace could make out over his hysteria. He shook his head, gasping as he tried to throw a retort back. He couldn't form the words.
Rocky was agonizingly thorough. He scratched at the soft inside of his sole, dragging the sharper edge of his fingers over the arches, scribbling lightly over the ball, then worming under and between his toes in a repetitive circular pattern. Every touch was exploratory, but precise as if he had some idea of what might work. He made sure no skin was left untouched, only slowing once Grace's laughter began to come in wheezes.
He didn't stop completely, switching to slow dragging up and down each foot. He listened intently as Grace damn near melted under the touch. Gasping breaths made way for breathy giggles, the human relaxing against the floor as his friend watched him, unaware of the attention.
To Rocky's sight, Grace looked more calm than he'd ever been.
Sure, his heart still beat rapidly, but his breathing was leisurely. It didn't carry the same stress it did before. His heartbeat sent soundwaves through his form, revealing unclenched shoulders, heavy limbs, and a dreamy grin. While Eridians didn't laugh the same way humans did, the effect was the same.
Rocky withdrew, backing off of his ankles and rolling to sit beside Grace's head. He watched as the laughter slowed, but the smile remained. The human looked up at him through tousled hair, not moving to stand.
"You're mean." He said, pointing at Rocky with a wavering hand. Rocky hummed.
"But, Grace is tired now, question? Can sleep?"
Grace thought for a moment, feeling the weight in his limbs and eyelids, how his breath was deep and slow. He felt how his mind was a little lighter, buzzing with happy chemicals.
Sighing, he nodded.
Rocky made a victorious sound, throwing his hands in the air.
"Grace go to bed now, get off floor." Rocky said, moving to get out of Grace's way. Grace didn't move, lying still. Rocky could hear his breathing deepen further, his eyes closing.
"No. Grace not sleep here, statement. Go to bed." He rolled closer, nudging the human on his shoulder. Rocky startled as Grace scooted towards him, wrapping around the ball and pressing his forehead into the xenonite mesh.
Rocky stared in confusion as Grace drifted off, spooning around the outside of the hamster ball. He couldn't imagine that was very comfortable for a being without carapace, but there he was. Pressed against the hard floor and the hard shell.
Oh well. At least he would sleep tonight.
Rocky settled in, lowering to lay in his ball next to Grace. He pressed a hand through the mesh to bury in the humans hair, trilling as he sighed in his sleep.
As he watched his friend sleep, feeling Grace deserved a reward after the torment, he began to sing softly.
The notes resonated through the xenonite like crystal bells, ringing in pure tones. It was an old melody from his younger years, something his parents used to sing while he was getting ready to sleep.
He had sung it to Adrian the night before he left, one last song to soothe her before saying goodbye.
He sang it to his crew the day they didn't wake up, a prayer that they knew someone still cared for them. An apology for failing them, it being the only comfort he thought he could give.
He sang it tonight as a promise. To himself, to his human companion, and to Earth and Erid.
pairing: ryland grace x reader (intended as platonic)
summary: you didn't even do anything this time. honestly.
warnings: no use of y/n, gn reader, lee!reader, ler!grace, grace is a fiend and a menace, reader is just having a day
word count: 1.4k
authors note: sorry. actually no im not, yall asked for this one. <3 title: aqua regia by sleep token
///
You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision.
The taumoeba samples remained unmoving in their petri dishes. You could only hope that they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Growing. Adapting. Whatever.
You didn't actually need to watch the samples. There wasn't much to do with them other than to monitor their environment every few hours. But you didn't want to leave just yet. Too much rested on the success of these little buggers.
You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, rubbing the dry, burning feeling away. Your elbows thudded faintly against the desk when you rested your weight on them.
"Hey, can you come here for a sec?" Ryland called from somewehere to your left.
You turned your head, squishing your cheek against your palms. "Whh-?"
"Get over here." He sounded like he was laughing.
When you peeled your eyes open, he was straightening on his stool and tucking a pen behind his ear.
"What is it?" You mumbled, unwilling to move any more than absolutely necessary.
"Come on, lazybones."
You puffed your cheeks out, exhaling sharply in a raspberry. "Yeah, fine."
Ryland extended an arm towards you as you approached, and looped it around your lower back when you were within reach. He pulled you in, placing you to stand between his legs and leaning you back against the desk behind you.
"This is cozy." You raised an eyebrow.
Ryland just smiled, and raised his free hand, wiggling his fingers in the air.
You felt your heart stutter. "Whoa - hey. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on." Ryland raised his eyebrows in mock confusion, corners of his mouth drooping. "Why would anything be going on?" He shot his hand out towards your abdomen, pulling back at the last second before he made contact.
You flinched hard, your own hands coming up in front of you protectively.
"Wait!" You yelped.
"Wait for what?" Ryland was smiling openly now. "I'm not doing anything."
"You are!"
"What am I doing?" He lunged again, angling to a slightly different spot, grinning wide when you squeaked, and flinched again.
"You know what you're-" Another lunge towards you, another flinch, and you slapped at the top of his hand. "- stop it!"
"'Stop it'!" Ryland mimicked with a chuckle, waving his hand this way and that slowly while wiggling his fingers again.
"That's not what I sound like!" You huffed, and tried swatting at him again. "And don't do that."
"Still don't know what it is that I'm supposedly doing here." Ryland looked at you over his glasses and, mercifully, dropped his hand. It rested on top of his thigh, fingers curled loosely and completely relaxed. The arm around your lower back, however, tightened when he felt you shift.
"Ryland," you used your thumb and forefinger to squeeze at your temples. "I'm tired, and I'm supposed to be watching the samples, because we have no idea what we're doing, and if this goes to shit we've got nothing."
"Tired?" Ryland said, and something in his voice made you lower your hand to look at him.
He released his hold on you, but braced his knees tighter on either side of you instead. Then he brought his palms together and rubbed them rapidly a few times, like he was trying to warm up.
"Clear!" He called out, and before you could voice your confusion, he tasered both hands into your ribs. "Bzzt!"
You yelped, bending hard at the waist and nearly knocking your head into Ryland's.
"What the hell?!" You demanded, laughter bubbling in your chest. You squashed it down. "What are you doing?"
"I'm resusitating you." Ryland said, rubbing his palms together again.
"No, no, no-" You gripped at his wrists, adrenaline spiking.
"Clear!"
"Do not- Ack!" You doubled over - again - choking on air and a yelp.
"Bzzt!" Ryland said, tasering your ribs. Then again. And again. "Bzzt! Bzzt!"
"Noho!" You gave in to giggling, jerking wildly with each squeeze to your ribs.
"'Noho'!" Ryland pitched his voice up into a silly whine, switching to scribbling his fingers up and down over your ribcage. "'Noho'!"
"What did I doho?" You asked, ducking your head towards his shoulder. Shivers crawled up your spine from the ticklish fluttering at your ribs.
"What did you do?" Ryland repeated, as if confused. "Nothing at all."
Your mind spun. "Then why-?"
You felt him shrug. "I thought it would be fun."
"Fun for who?" You demanded, attempting to twist away from his hold. Ryland wrapped his legs around the back of your thighs, hooking his ankles together.
The movement brought you even closr to him, and you braced your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance from being jostled.
"Well, for both of us, I'd hope." His arms slinked around to your back, scritching his nails around your shoulder blades. Your back and torso arched in an attempt to get away. "Gosh, you're such a wiggle worm."
"Mngh." You grunted concisely, grinding your teeth shut. Giggles still escaped you, though, and you tried not to focus on your rapidly heating face.
"What does that mean?" Ryland asked, grinning, then snickered when you hid your face from him by pressing your cheek to the top of his head.
His hands switched to pinch at your uppermost ribs quickly.
"Hm? What's that?" He teased when you broke into full laughter. "Use your words."
"My wohords -!" You said between gasps for air. "- are sahaying you're being mehean!"
"Mean?" Ryland feigned offense, then wiggled his fingers into your underarms. "You're not actually doing anything to stop me, though."
"I am!" Your hands gripped tight at his tshirt.
"Yeah?"
"Yes!"
"Clinging and giggling isn't exactly gonna help you."
At his words, you suddenly became aware of how tightly you were holding onto him. To try and prove him wrong - who were you kidding - you pushed yourself off of his shoulders. You pulled at his arms, still laughing, and a moment of surprise registered in your fuzzy mind when he let you.
It was short lived, though, because in the next moment Ryland wrapped one around around your upper back and locked you in against his shoulder. You felt him shift his legs to get a better grip.
Then his free hand tucked itself under the hem of your tshirt, thumb slipping just under the waistband of your trousers and lodging under your hip bone.
"Ryland." You said, arms scrambling to try and push off of him.
"Yes?"His thumb stayed unmoving, but firmly planted under your hip bone.
"If you do this I will never forgive you."
There was a pause, and Ryland seemed to actually be thinking over your words. Your heart hammered in your chest.
"Nah." He said finally, voice light. "You will."
"Grace-" Too late. The thumb dug in, and kept at it; wiggling, rubbing, circling.
Laughter burst out of you so sharply that you lost breath for a second, body simultaneously pressing closer to Ryland's and trying to twist away from his hand.
When your lungs remembered their function and you were able to gulp in a breath, it was so sudden that you snorted lightly.
Ryland burst into giggles, hand faltering in it's movements.
"Don't." You groaned.
"Oh jeeze." Ryland's voice pitched up from his giggling. "I've never heard you make that noise before."
You pushed up from his hold with more intent this time. Ryland let you, his arm sliding away from you, lingering down your back. No longer poised for attack.
"And you never will again." You said to him firmly, trying to mimic his best teacher-voice.
"Hmm." Ryland calmed down enough to stop giggling. "We'll see about that."
"No." You objected. "There is no 'see'. This never happens again."
"Mm-hmm."
"Sleep with one eye open." You pointed your finger at him, reaching your other hand behind you to unhook Ryland's legs from around you. "My revenge will be swift."
He dropped his legs at your insistent pushing. "I expect no less."
He was still grinning.
Huffing through your nose, you turned away to head back to your samples.
"I swear to god, you need to be taken down a peg." You muttered just loud enough for him to hear. You slid back onto your stool. "Or three."
"I look forward to it."
Your hands faltered over the taumoeba samples. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ryland reaching behind his ear for his pen, eyes trained on the papers in front of him.
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
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
