If and only if you have the time and energy, can we get some Grace actually being scared of Simon? Maybe Simon just moved a little too fast or grabbed his wrist too hard or smth and Grace just gets this look in his eyes. Aftermath is up to you. Okay that's all thank you goodbye!
It was an accident.
He didn’t mean to, Simon swears, this was the last fucking thing he wanted. Grace was the kindest, brightest soul that Simon had ever met— he didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to deal with Simon but for some reason Grace chose to.
And Simon? He was selfish.
He thought he had a good handle on his… instincts, by now. Simon knew he had been changed by his time in the SM-13, he felt the way his blood sang, how his thoughts sharpened into a single point when Grace challenged the unspoken boundaries.
They were unspoken because Simon refused to burden Grace even further. Simon refused to take more than he had been stupidly given.
And maybe because Simon knew the confession would wrench him away from this paradise.
Simon can feel Grace’s pulse. It thunders in quick, frantic little jolts beneath Simon’s palm, the acrid stench of adrenaline effusing the bedroom air.
It’s not like Simon needs to touch Grace to feel his pulse, anyways. He can hear it, Simon can hear the way Grace’s body reacts to the vicious assault, how Grace’s breath stutters with nothing other than fear.
Grace looks up at Simon, pupils shrunk into a pinprick as irises— usually a glittering, delighted shade of azure— go completely dull. His eyes are wide, drawn all the way open in an instinctual bid for more information, as if getting a better view of his surroundings could save Grace from the vile, predatory grasp.
There's some sick, twisted part of Simon that's happy about this. He's happy to cock his head and see the way Grace trembles, how his body seems at war choosing between risking an opposition or staying perfectly, utterly still. Like if Grace could wait long enough— if he could steady his breathing threaded with a whimper— then Simon would think his prey had vanished.
Grace's throat bobs under Simon's grasp. Grace doesn't blink, just tries to shrink further back into the mattress.
Tighten your fist.
Simon does it. He doesn't know why.
Grace wheezes, chest straining as he tries to catch his breath. Simon watches, rapt as Grace claws past the oxygen deprivation to make an attempt at speech.
"Please."
Simon wrenches himself away. It's the fastest he's ever moved in his life, throwing himself away from the toying hold and stumbling back. Grace moves just as quickly if not quicker, scrambling across the mattress before he's on the edge of the bed.
Grace stills. Simon stares at him. He wants to know what Grace sees. He would kill himself if he did.
Grace pants, glasses askew. This time it's not the result of an excited motion or a sheepish shove moving the frames out of place— it's because of Simon.
Sometimes Simon itched to reach out and adjust the glasses. He wondered how Grace would react. Would he pause? Would he flush? Would his eyes crinkle in that way they so often?
Would Grace accept the touch that Simon was desperate to give?
Grace nearly falls off the bed in his desperation to escape, tripping once before he's out the bedroom door and retreating down the hall. Simon watches him go. He digs his nails into his palm as he resists the urge to give chase.
The front door swings open and slams shut. Simon stares at the rumpled bedsheets.
Simon sinks to the bedroom floor.
"Fuck."
a/n: didn't think anyone saw my tags on the last drabble asking for reqs but i always have time for some sweet sweet angst :D
Grace didn’t think of himself as brave. The word felt wrong to him. But with everything he had gone through, he wasn’t exactly a coward either. No, a coward wouldn’t have been able to do what was needed to befriend an alien or do multiple space walks or find the astrophage solution. A coward wouldn’t have been able to make the choice to turn around when he realised Rocky would be stranded when the taumaeba adapted to get through xenonite. Not when he had been pretty sure at the time that going back for Rocky meant he himself would likely die from starvation. A coward wouldn’t have let it get to this stage either, he thinks sourly as be sprints down the length of the artificial beach away from his home. Away from the man who had been fished out of the bloody submarine. Away from his friend who had been so broken and yet so willing to learn to be gentle despite how his world had treated him his entire life. Away from Simon, who always cared and wanted to help. He knew Simon had some issues. Heck, Simon knew he had issues. Grace hadn’t expected one of said issues to manifest in himself waking up in the bed they shared with Simon over him, pinning him down, the man’s hand on Grace’s throat. He’d been so confused as consciousness came to him, his eyes focusing slowly to stare up at Simon’s blank expression.
When the grip tightened around his throat he’d realised just how serious this was because that wasn’t playful or gentle. That grip was there to block bloodflow to his brain and stop oxygen from reaching his already aching lungs. The shot of adrenaline that came with that realisation was likely the only thing that let him choke out a single word. To try to reach Simon. He wasn’t sure what had made Simon suddenly back away at such speed. Grace hadn’t exactly paid much attention past the need to get away, because who knows if Simon would just tackle him and…. Grace stumbled in the sand, managing to slow himself down enough to not completely face plant but it was a near thing. Thankfully the sand was deep enough to cushion his fall as his knees ached enough already. His chest heaved as it hit the sand, his cheek pressing into it as he tried to force his body to relax enough to slow down the panic that was still trying to grab at his every thought. So, he found himself laying there, on his stomach, staring at the artificial ocean while he tried to catch his breath. If Simon had pursued Grace he would have long since caught up. The fact that he hadn’t meant something his mind wasn’t quite ready to consider yet, because the man across the bed from him, in the moment before Grace bolted, had not been the same as the man he had gotten to know. He’d learned to see past the mutations, horrible as they were, pretty quickly. But in that moment they had been stark and sharp in ways that made a shiver run down Grace’s spine. On top of all of that…..Simon’s eyes had been turned from their usual dark but gentle brown….to blood red…. Taking in another deep breath of salty air and running his fingers through the sand, Grace tries to ground himself before fear can take hold again. He had to think. There had been something so wrong about Simon’s expression. Something foreign and uncanny. He had looked predatory and detached in a way that Grace couldn’t remember ever seeing on the features of another human. Was it something to do with the blood? It had mutated Simon’s body. Who was to say if it hadn’t mutated his mind or something as well? Whatever this was, he would have to try to help Simon. It wasn’t an obligation or requirement, really, but Grace knew at his core he would have to try.
Briefly, he considered calling for Rocky or Adrian for security and guidance….but that would most likely just escalate the situation. Simon and Rocky weren’t exactly aggressive towards each other but they still had reservations and distrust that hadn’t quite been resolved yet. This situation would likely have Rocky ready to lock Simon up somewhere else and given Simon’s history that could only go horribly. Grace slowly pushed himself to sit on his knees, and sighed deeply. No, he wanted to try to figure this out without any threats getting thrown around. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t scared. No, far from it. Simon might be missing an arm but that man was strong. Possibly supernaturally so but Grace hadn’t pushed for testing his theories on that just yet. There was no doubt that Simon would be able to kill Grace if he really wanted to…..but Grace wasn’t convinced that he did want to. There had been something in those dark eyes, red or not, that looked an awful lot like hesitation and regret, now that Grace could actually examine the memory with more clarity. “Damn it...” It was hardly more than a breath. Grace didn’t like cursing but it felt called for given the circumstances. Looking back the way he had come, it was going to be a fairly long walk back to the house. He had run a lot further than he had thought. “Okay...” he huffed as he pushed himself to his feet, taking a moment to let the spots that crowded his vision dissipate, before starting off back along the beach.
((I had to try to add to the story! I hope it's ok! It's been poking around in my brain for days and it needed out!))
