Chapter Text
Fights with his previous significant others had always been so stressful to Ryland. The thing he wanted to do most during an argument was explain his side of things and clear up any misunderstandings.
For some reason, that wasn't what everyone wanted to do. Some people just wanted to be mad. Some people were made specifically because Ryland talked too much. Some people just wanted Ryland to admit that he was wrong.
Now, Ryland won't pretend that he was perfect in his past relationships. He did have a problem with wanting to solve the argument like an equation. He could unintentionally bulldoze other people's opinions and feelings. Sometimes, he didn't even care if he thought they were reacting stupidly. He could be a bit of a jerk like that.
That still didn't change though that some fights just felt like "Hating Ryland Grace" hour. Or, week, depending on the fight.
Somehow—even though Simon was very clearly upset—Ryland didn't have the same anxious energy he would usually have during a fight. It was so weird: he couldn't even properly explain himself, yet he didn't feel more and more nauseous as time passed by.
Maybe, it was because Simon visibly calmed as he held Ryland. Maybe, it was the fact that he was being held at all. The physical contact was like a reassurance. It meant that Simon disliked something he did, not Ryland himself.
Maybe, it was because Simon responded to his mindless chatter with little chirps and noises of his own. The noises weren't angry, just conversational. This double, one-sided conversation seemed to be as fulfilling and calming to Simon as it was to Ryland.
He wished he could understand what Simon was saying. Talking like this was nice in its own way, but he wanted to know more about the mer. Despite how he feared a bad outcome, Ryland hoped that they would still mesh once his endless chatter wasn't just white noise to the mer.
Eventually, Ryland had to get up. His bladder was becoming a bit of a pressing issue.
Simon hissed and tightened his arm around the human when he realized what Ryland was trying to do. The mer glared at him, looking absolutely affronted that their cuddle.
"Simon—"
HISS
"I just need—"
HISS
Ryland flicked his nose, making the mer blink in surprise. "Hey, stop that. I need to—" He realized that he had no way of miming a bathroom break that wasn't mortifying. Not to mention, impossible in their current positions. "—eat."
When Ryland mimed eating, the mer looked torn. Simon knew that he didn't eat fish, so he couldn't feed the human with what he could catch. Even if he could, Simon would still have to let Ryland go in order to catch something.
Reluctantly, Simon released the human. He put on a firm face and pointed at the house, then back at himself. Come right back, he seemed to be saying.
"I will," he confirmed before giving Simon a peck on the cheek.
A bit of a dazed look crossed the mer's face, but he schooled it into a grumpy scowl as Ryland left.
Ugh, he was stiff! He stretched while he walked, popping his joints.
On the way up the path, he noted little spots of red dotting the trail. Ryland was worried that it was blood for a moment. They turned out to be scales though. He picked one up before looking up and down the trail. Dozens—perhaps hundreds—of shiny specks of red.
Was it painful? Did Simon hurt himself trying to get to Ryland?
A discontent, growly noise brought Ryland out of his head. Simon pointed at the house and mimed eating.
Right. He could stew in guilt later. Bathroom and food now.
Once he did his business, Ryland actually did scavenge for food. Breakfast—was it lunch after noon?—had been skipped entirely. There was a tray of already sliced pineapple, mango, oranges.
God bless Adrian.
Last night, Ryland had looked up if mer had any outstanding intolerances or foods that were poisonous to them. It turned out that mer could eat pretty much whatever humans ate. They preferred live prey, but they could eat grains and fruit and vegetables too. Thank goodness: Ryland would've been devastated if he accidentally hurt Simon.
That also meant he could introduce—probably, Ryland didn't know his past—fruit to Simon.
The mer emerged from the water again once Ryland was halfway down the path. Something about Simon seemed satisfied if not a bit happy. This was especially so when he looked at the food in Ryland's hands.
What? Did he think that Ryland was going to eat without him? He wasn't that bad at relationships. Shared meals clearly mattered to Simon.
Sitting just where the waves splashed his toes, Ryland balanced the tray on his lap. Simon pulled and wiggled himself up to where he was sitting, letting out a bit of an annoyed huff.
"I don't want to get seawater on them," Ryland explained. He then picked up a chunk of mango and held it out for Simon.
The mer's lips brushed his fingers. Teeth lightly scraped them too.
Was he being this erotic on purpose? Was feeding each other food something that didn't even register as sexual for mer?
Simon seemed to enjoy the mango, and he picked up a piece to hold out for Ryland.
In the spirit of peevish revenge, he did let his tongue brush Simon's fingers. They were, predictably, salty. His face burned with a blush, but it was worth it to see the mer transfixed on him.
Was this becoming a kink? Ryland wasn't sure if he wanted this kink. Being aroused at every meal with Simon sounded inconvenient.
Ryland put the next fruit piece he picked up into his own mouth, and Simon looked very disappointed.
They split the fruit plate though and spent the afternoon and evening in the shallows. Simon would occasionally dip into deeper waters, presumably to stay moist. Ryland made sandcastles, and the mer joined in the efforts. It was adorable to watch him carefully carve out details with his claw.
As the day was winding to a close, Ryland pointed towards his house and mimed sleeping. Conflict played out on Simon's face. He then mimed sleep and pointed at the beach.
...Ryland wasn't sure if he could sleep on the sand. He was even less enthusiastic about the tide potentially waking him. Maybe, he could buy some camping equipment in the future. They could have sleepovers.
Sadly, Ryland shook his head and pointed to the house.
Solemnly, Simon nodded. He gestured Ryland closer in order to kiss him on the cheek the way the human had earlier. The gesture filled Ryland with such affection that he kissed Simon's cheeks, his nose, his brows, and then his lips.
Simon's tongue flicked out in search of Ryland's lips when he pulled back from the brief peck. The mer's eyes—the right a deep brown and the left a bright red—looked almost black as they gazed at him, hooded with desire. A rumbling was escaping Simon.
That noise—that Ryland had largely taken as a sign of contentment, like a purr—felt different when Simon looked at him like that.
All of a sudden, Ryland's actions felt a lot more daring, and his face was aflame with a blush.
"Loveyougoodnight," Ryland blurted out before snatching the plate and practically running back to his house.
It was only after he took a shower—and noted he was most definitely sunburned—that he fully realized what he said.
****
The next day, Ryland woke up at a more reasonable time. He was down at the beach by 8:30, and Simon seemed pleased with him.
He didn't seem all that impressed with Ryland's sunscreen, which he sniffed and licked before making a face. Ryland did his best to show that it was medicine of a kind. Simon did seem to understand that the reddened skin was painful to the touch.
The mer glared at the house in accusation, clearly suspecting that Ryland got injured between last night and the current morning.
They really needed to start breaking that language barrier. Ryland was going to look into that sometime that afternoon or tomorrow. It depended on how clingy Simon felt.
In fact, Simon was less clingy when Ryland made breakfast on time. He left for a while in the afternoon, which gave the scientist time to check on his samples and do some more research.
Well, he might have done some more research if not for the fact that the tab he opened first was his email inbox.
Ryland wasn't the type of guy who checked his email everyday; nevertheless, he did take note of emails with the subject "Ryland Grace, you stupid fucking idiot".
It was from Adrian. Ryland didn't even need to read the first line to know that Rocky had suggested the subject header. The thing about Adrian though was that they didn't type anything that they didn't agree with.
The email read:
Dear Grace,
Rocky insisted on the subject line. He did get a good laugh out of this though.
I've forwarded the email Eva Stratt sent to me. I think it would be wise to speak to her promptly. I also think it would be wise to write your emails at a reasonable hour.
With love,
Adrian.
Oh no.
Was he getting fired? No, Rocky wouldn't be laughing if that was the case.
Best to find out.
This email is listed in Dr. Grace's emergency contacts.
I request information on his current status.
Additionally, I would like to know if he is romantically involved with any criminals. If so, do they seem to be taking advantage of him?
A team will be sent to investigate if sufficient information is not provided within three days.
WHAT?!? What could he have written that gave that impression? How did they get here?!?
Going to his sent emails, Grace read the one he sent to Stratt.
Then, he put his head in his hands.
Dear Stratt,
How are you?
I'm doing well. The latest trip to the reef went smoothly.
There has been a change to my personal life. I know it may seem sudden, but it all happened so fast. We're kind of living together now.
If there is any paperwork I need to fill out, I'll do so as soon as possible. I will warn you in advance that he doesn't have a legal name that I know of. He also doesn't have any identification, and I am unsure about his past history. We're still getting to know each other.
Hoping you have a productive day.
Sincerely,
Dr. Ryland Grace.
Nowhere in that letter had he said that Simon was a freaking mer! Which probably would've made it look 95% less suspicious.
Cheese and crackers, he really was a big, stupid idiot.