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Today, Rocky will be giving Grace a little tour of his biodome.
It’s not completely ready yet, but the essentials are already in place. The garden is what he's most excited to see; it seems they've developed some kind of fertilizer that helps plants grow faster, and from what he's heard from Rocky, the biodome team has done a great job with it. Grace has always wanted to try taking care of plants—besides, he can start growing produce! A salad to accompany his meburgers sounds nice. Now he just needs to ask them to develop some salad dressing.
Everything else, though, will come with time. What they have planned for him is not necessary for Grace’s survival anymore, but still necessary for his quality of life.
Like a swing. He really wants a swing.
It’s been nearly seven months since he’s arrived in Erid. Most of his time here had been spent recovering from malnutrition and hoping to god Eridian scientists were fast enough to save him. Sometimes, the pain had been so great he wished for the exact opposite. For his suffering to be over.
He’s so glad he pushed through it. Now he gets to spend the rest of his days having fun with his mates, helping Erid’s scientists with technology advancements, and studying Eridians, which he’s wanted to do since he laid his eyes on Rocky for the first time. He never thought he could be this happy. This fulfilled.
They have been walking for a while now, and Grace’s legs are starting to ache despite the cane he’s been provided. It had been Rocky’s idea; it won’t completely stop physical deterioration, but paired with the braces Adrian had made for him, it’ll slow it down enough so it’ll be way less noticeable later in life. That said, he’s never been one to enjoy taking walks in general. The last hike he’d been to was in middle school, and he’s happy to never do it again.
Anyway, the point is: it’s been nearly an hour, and Grace wants a break. More than that, he needs a toilet. He’d drunk one of his vitamin shakes before leaving the house, as well as a big, fat glass of water, and his bladder is starting to make itself known with a too-familiar ache settled just below his abdomen.
“Rocky.” Grace stops, bending down so he’s closer to him. It’s a bit pointless; Rocky can hear him even if he whispers, but old habits die hard. “This is great, but I really gotta use the bathroom. Where’s that at?”
“Oh,” Rocky says, “Is in the house. I did not consider how humans dispose of bodily waste. Will build another one around here, and perhaps further if you want to.”
“Uh, okay, thanks. Can I use a bush instead for now, though?”
Rocky vibrates, his notes coming in a harsher tone as he speaks. “I did not make bushes for waste disposal!” he states, tapping his claws multiple times on the ground, as if to drive the point home. “Dirty dirty dirty!”
Well. What is he supposed to do, then?!
“Grace hold it,” Rocky tells him, as if he can read Grace’s mind, and keeps walking. Grace gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing with it.
“Okay,” he says, though he’s planning on using the next bush he finds once Rocky leaves. It can’t be much longer, right? He's only supposed to show him some of the stuff he’s built in his biodome, which is still pretty empty apart from the garden.
Mostly, he’s just showing Grace the adjustments made by the biodome team, such as warmer water temperature and improved sand texture. The size is still off, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell him. It’s good enough. Harder to make sand castles, though; he’s tried.
If they’re done soon enough, perhaps he’ll be able to take care of his business in the privacy of his house instead of forcing himself to piss in a random bush. Only God knows if there aren’t any cameras nearby.
He follows him, and hopes he doesn’t need to resort to that.
-------
He might need to resort to that.
It’s been forty minutes. Ten minutes ago, he was still capable of human speech and comprehension. Right now, all of his willpower is being channeled into a single mission: not pissing himself.
He could tell Rocky about the gravity of the situation, but he doesn’t want to. Rocky and Adrian have worked so hard on this; his biodome, his comfort, his happiness. He doesn’t want to ruin the tour by grossing Rocky out or running back to the house and leaving him alone—though it’s also not like he’s got many other choices. None he can think of, actually.
The house is only a bit farther than before. They’d made a few stops to talk about missing supplies and future improvements, so he hadn’t spent all the time walking. Still, even if he tried to make a run for it, he doesn’t think he’d get there on time. The thought makes him feel desperate, and the anxiety is definitely not helping the whole situation down there. He should’ve run back while he still could; Rocky would’ve been slightly upset at the interruption, but now he’s going to disappoint him and make a fool of himself.
No, no. He won’t lose control. It’s fine, he can make it. Maybe if he holds himself, presses his hand against his crotch—there. That helps. Very little, but it does.
This unfortunately brings back a memory of a college situation from his early twenties. Grace had tried to hold his pee after class, too embarrassed to ask his colleagues to wait for him while he went to the toilet, which eventually led to him having his first accident as an adult.
Thankfully, he'd made it to his dorm before soiling himself. Had he arrived slightly later, he would’ve pissed himself in front of the people he had been trying to impress. The thought that there might be an alternative universe where he didn’t make it will haunt him forever.
“Grace?”
Fudge. He’d forgotten to pay attention. It’s even harder to hear now that he’s having trouble existing in general; he needs to double his efforts to understand what Rocky’s saying without the translator. They’d gotten rid of it after around five years, and Grace hadn’t looked back ever since. Rocky expressed himself much better in his own language, as one would expect. He still misses the robotic voice now and then, though, even if it sounded a bit silly—
“Grace!”
Uh oh. He’d zoned out again. “Y-yes?” he stammers, hands still squeezing his crotch. There’s no relief this time, though. The ache has turned into pain, now, and it’s not going away. It’s making him dizzy with it. Almost nauseous.
“What you doing?”
“Um.” He looks down, as if he isn’t sure himself. “I-I just wanted to ask if we're almost done. I’m having a bit of a hard time here...”
“Soon,” Rocky says, walking by his side. “This is last part! Grace will love.”
“Rocky,” he whines. He doesn’t think he’ll love anything that isn’t a toilet.
“Come come come,” Rocky chirps, ignoring him, and Grace gathers yet more strength to follow him without losing it all.
They stop at the edge of the biodome. Grace whimpers again as another wave of sharp, stabbing pain washes through him. He bends his knees this time, but manages to catch himself before he drops to the ground beneath him.
“All okay, Grace?” Rocky asks, tilting his carapace. Grace would find it cute if he weren't currently fighting for his dignity. "Almost done. I know ♪♫ hurts, will ask Adrian to ♪♫♬♫ you to house."
Grace groans; half in pain, half in frustration. That's very sweet of Rocky, but as far as pain goes, the one in his legs is the least of his concerns! He supposes it's his fault for not being specific enough.
"Rock–"
The other side of the biodome lights up.
“Surprise for you. ♫♬♬♪!” Rocky says, gesturing towards the transparent wall. Grace looks at where he's pointing.
Oh my god.
On the other side, there are not one, ten, or even fifty Eridians. There are hundreds of them. The ones in the middle of the crowd are holding up a sign that says Thank you, Doctor Grace! And there was a thrum happening, though he could barely make out any words due to his biodome’s thick walls and his current incapability of understanding basic speech, Eridian or not. The crowd shifted with each of their individual movements; some of them were tapping their claws together in a way that resembled the way humans clapped their hands, while others jumped to get a good look at him. He felt like some kind of tourist attraction.
The sight distracts him for a second, and it’s enough for him to lose control. Grace tries to hold it in; he really does—squeezing himself one last time and bending his knees so far they actually hit the ground with a painful thud—but it’s useless. His cane follows suit once he lets it go, falling on the sand next to him.
No, no, no. Not here. Not in front of all these people. He can feel their piercing gaze on him, probably wondering what’s wrong—if there is anything wrong or if they’re just misreading his body language—or what all this gross fluid is. He was supposed to be smiling and thanking them, not wetting himself like a child. Grace whimpers as he feels his bladder loosen, the fabric of his pants getting dark, warm, and wet as pee flows through it, soaking through his underwear.
The shame instantly hits him like a freight train; it makes his blood rush so fast to his cheeks that it leaves him feeling even dizzier, like he could pass out or throw up. With a Herculean effort, he manages to stop the stream midway through, but the damage has already been done.
Everyone can watch as sobs start leaving him, crying as if he hadn’t made that mess himself. Do they even know how humiliating this is? Can they understand what’s happening? He really hopes not.
He looks up at Rocky. He needs to look somewhere that isn’t the soaked grains of sand in front of him, and he can’t bring himself to look at the crowd—gathered there for him, to show him appreciation, gratefulness, while this is what he has to show them. This wet, gross alien.
Rocky is looking back, tilting his carapace. He’s studying him; Grace could recognize that stance anywhere in the universe, under any circumstance. It makes him feel slightly better, for some reason. Maybe it’s knowing Rocky’s already looking at this whole fiasco through a scientific lens.
“Why you do that?!” Okay, maybe not entirely scientific. Grace averts his gaze.
“It– it was an accident,” Grace stutters, his voice shaky. “Please, don’t say what I did in Eridian. Maybe they can’t tell.”
“Want to understand what happened!” Rocky punches holes in the sand with his incessant fidgeting. “Why you–”
“Rocky.” Grace cries. Rocky freezes as he stares at him. “Please. Not here. I know it’s g-gross, and you’re confused. I’ll– I’ll explain later, I promise. I just want to go home,” he says with a broken sob.
Rocky takes a few seconds to reply, watching as Grace stops squeezing his crotch and wraps his arms around his torso, curling into a smaller version of himself. He doesn’t bother wiping his tears. He's all wet, anyway.
“Okay,” Rocky says. He takes a few steps forward and scratches the back of Grace’s head, gently petting his hair. Rocky knows he always feels better when he touches him. “I thank them, make up excuse, then we go home.”
Grace sniffs. “Thank you.”
-------
“Grace, talk to me!”
Grace didn’t feel like talking. He felt awful, and not just because he’s just pissed himself in front of a crowd.
All of those Eridians gathered to show him some love, and he couldn’t even thank them himself. If he were having a good day, he would’ve even considered wearing his exosuit and leaving the biodome to talk to them—though Rocky would have security concerns regarding that.
Not all of them were scientists; some were just Eridians who happened to live nearby. Still, they’d taken the time to be there. The least he could’ve done was to be grateful for their presence. He hadn’t even looked at them more than the two seconds before– before that happened.
He’s so ashamed. His pants are still uncomfortably wet, the cold fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel even more gross; reminding him of what he had done. The house isn’t that far now; he can’t wait to get cleaned up, hide under his blankets, and try to forget this ever happened.
“Grace, please.”
Right. Rocky is still here. Grace stops and turns to face him, wiping some of the mess off his face. He probably looks disgusting. Why won’t Rocky just leave him alone to deal with it himself?
“I need some time for myself,” Grace says, a bit more defensive than he’d intended. Rocky doesn’t budge, drumming his claws against the sand.
“No! You tell what happened!”
“I’ve wet myself!” Grace says impulsively, losing his temper a little. He’s been flushed for a while now, but his cheeks return to burning at full force the second he says it out loud. Rocky tilts his carapace in confusion, and Grace’s confidence falters as he continues. “P-pissed. I’ve, um, I’ve lost control.”
“I theorized it could be different liquid. So it really was waste?” Rocky asks, taking a few steps forward. “Why Grace do that?! Not polite!”
“I didn’t mean to,” he says weakly, tears gathering at his eyes again. “I–”
“Why is Grace crying?”
They both turn to the source of the sound. When he thought things couldn’t get worse, Adrian arrives to witness the pathetic mess he is at the moment. Well, he’s a pathetic mess at all times, though usually the ‘mess’ is only metaphorical. The sight of them makes him sob in more embarrassment, curling his arms around himself. He just wants to be alone.
“Grace urinated in front of crowd gathering,” Grace hears Rocky say, and it takes everything within him not to dig a hole in the sand and bury himself alive. “Very rude. Says it was accident, but I do not understand,” he tells them.
Adrian turns to face him. Grace instinctively braces himself for what they’ll say, shoulders tensing. They are always gentle with him, but Eridians are all weird regarding fluids. Unless they have a weird kink, he supposes
Most of the time, he found it funny. It’s one of his hobbies to tease Rocky about it, and he’d adopted the ‘leaky space blob’ nickname quickly after it had been given to him. Right now, though, he’s feeling way dirtier than he would’ve been if he were on Earth. Like the star of a freak show.
“Why did you not use toilet sooner?” they ask gently. Grace immediately relaxes at their tone of voice. Or, er, just the tone in general.
“It was too far,” Grace explains. “And I didn’t want to interrupt Rocky’s tour.”
Adrian makes a sound that Grace recognizes as a hum. “Did you tell Rocky?”
He nods. Adrian turns to face Rocky now, taking a few steps forward.
“You know humans can not simply 'hold' waste like Eridians, yes?” they ask, and it could only be Grace’s mind playing tricks on him, but they sound almost defensive.
Either way, he thinks he knows the answer. Rocky knows how the human body works for the most part, but they rarely ever talked about the yucky bits. Primarily because Rocky isn’t interested in the details, but also because it simply didn’t come up very often. Grace had never had an accident in the Hail Mary, and he’d never held his pee to the point of aching. As far as Rocky’s concerned, maybe humans did have to go more frequently, but they can hold it if they put their minds to it.
Eridians only have to dispose of waste—or eat, because it’s practically the same thing to them—one to two times a week, so it would be fair to assume humans can at least hold it for a day. He hadn’t known they were that inefficient. Grace couldn’t even hold it for three hours.
“What you mean?”
“Humans are different when it comes to waste disposal. They can’t hold it for very long,” Adrian explains. “You should have let Grace use toilet hours ago. Is also not healthy for it to hold it in. Could cause health issues.”
Adrian is a scientist. When Grace arrived in Erid, they were the first one to ask questions about human biology and study him. That is, once Grace hadn’t been at the verge of death. Adrian had also helped him to regain strength, which wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for the hours they’d spent studying humans and their needs on Grace’s laptop. Grace himself had explained a few things to them.
Rocky, on the other hand, is an engineer. He’d been more busy building, and though he did participate in a few discussions about Grace’s circadian rhythm and necessary vitamins, the specifics had never come up.
“Oh. I did not know,” Rocky says, an octave lower. Grace can barely understand him when he talks like that. “Apology apology apology.” He anxiously shifts his weight between limbs, leaving indents on the sand.
“It’s all right,” Grace tells him.
“No no no. I was horrible friend, horrible mate. Was mean to you, ignored when you needed help, scared you with surprise… Very bad behavior. Apology.”
Aw. Grace doesn’t want him to feel guilty; he knows Rocky didn’t mean to hurt him. Still, the apology does make him feel better. He wipes the tears that were threatening to fall, a soft smile on his lips. “Thanks, Rock.”
“I talked to them. Eridians were confused, but mostly curious. They were just happy to see you in biodome,” Rocky tells him. It could be a lie to make him feel better, but even if it is, Grace will gladly choose to believe it. He relaxes, already feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “Some found Grace’s behavior weird, but alien is weird, so not very surprising. Scientists might ask questions later, but they will understand. You do not need to say anything. Adrian and Rocky handle it.”
“Thanks,” he repeats for lack of something better to say. He’s feeling emotional now with how gentle Rocky is being with him, wishing he had explained it to him sooner instead of being scared of his reaction. In hindsight, Rocky would’ve completely understood if Grace had told him he can’t just hold it. He had literally moved mountains to keep him safe and happy. The last thing he wants is for his human to hurt.
“You said Grace wet itself in front of a crowd?” Adrian asks. Aaand, just like that, the tension is back. Grace nearly chokes in his own spit, pointedly not looking at them. He wonders if he could fry an egg on his face—probably yes, if he waited long enough.
“Yes yes. That is what happened.”
“Oh.” Adrian turns to Grace, walking until their claw reaches his shoulder. They stroke his arm in a few soothing motions, their carapace slightly tilted. “Poor thing. Similar thing happened to Adrian when it was pebble. Very embarrassing. Can imagine how it must feel to you.”
It’s a bit patronizing, the way Adrian comforts him, but he can’t help but be drawn to it. The kindness in their tone makes his heart clench in his chest, and not in a bad way. Grace wasn’t expecting so much understanding coming from a species that’s already so prone to thinking he’s gross.
Not his mates, though. They understand.
Grace bites his bottom lip as he nods, reaching for the little mountain that is Adrian. He instantly pulls back after he remembers how dirty he is—urine still clinging to his skin and snot drying on his face—but Adrian just pulls him closer until he’s flush against their exosuit, cheek pressing against the xenonite. He’d been holding back sobs, but he’s safe from all judgment now. Grace allows them to come out, flushing all of those ugly emotions off his system.
Adrian is big, so they hold him easily as they wrap a limb around him, comfortingly tight. Grace lets out a soft gasp as he feels himself being lifted, and opens his eyes to see Rocky gently taking his cane from his hand. He lets him, and hands him his glasses as well.
“It must be exhausted,” Rocky tells Adrian. He feels something weird happen with his chest every time they talk about him like he isn't there. “Must help with cleaning up.”
“Yes,” Adrian replies, already starting to walk with Grace held safely in their grip. Grace wishes he could protest and tell them both he can walk on his own, but he’s so tired. He’s not used to walking long distances, especially not on a planet that’s double Earth’s gravity. So he lets himself be carried, closing his eyes and basking in Adrian’s warmth.
“Sorry for the mess,” he tells them after a few minutes. In response, Adrian taps him reassuringly on his shoulder blade.
“Is okay. We all clean up.”
“Where, though?” Grace mumbles. He was so relaxed he hadn’t even stopped to think about logistics. “You’re too big for my bathroom.”
Unless that’s not actually what they meant. He’s a grown man, after all; he doesn’t actually need help. But he wants to be taken care of. Christ, when had he become so needy?
“We clean here,” Adrian says, depositing him on the sand so gently he might as well be an empty eggshell.
Grace’s thoughts come to a halt. His gaze snaps to Adrian, then Rocky.
“Wait, what?!”
“I will gather toilet supplies! Adrian, start cleaning procedure.” Rocky leaves his side and heads towards the house, stumbling through the sand. Grace is so tense his shoulders nearly press against his ears.
“Adrian, you– you can’t be serious,” Grace stammers. He’d try getting up, but his muscles protest at the thought. “Here? Outside?!”
“Yes,” they say simply. “What is wrong?”
Grace opens his mouth, ready to list enough reasons as to why this is a terrible idea. He’s surprised when he can’t find a single thing to say.
Adrian is too big for any room in his house except for the living room, so it’s logical that if they want to help with cleaning, they need a bigger space. There’s no need to worry about someone watching him, either; they’re far enough from the edge that nobody can see him—or, well, hear him. They probably wouldn’t even be able to tell how intimate this is without the context of their little weird polycule, anyway. For all they know, Adrian and Rocky are just helping him because the poor alien can’t do it himself. The thought shouldn’t make him feel as giddy as it does. As if he’s helpless without them.
He is. He really is.
Contaminating the artificial sea with his bodily fluids and soap could be a problem, but they clean the water once every two months. And it’s not like he does this every day.
There’s nothing for him to worry about.
“Grace?”
Grace clears his throat, then readjusts his position on the sand, kneeling instead of sitting cross-legged. “Sorry, I was just thinking. It’s– it’s okay. We can do this.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Grace gives them a firm nod. “You’re– are you also okay with this? Comfortable?”
Adrian scoffs—the equivalent of an Eridian scoff, anyway. “Obviously.” They step forward, grabbing the hem of Grace’s shirt, and he squeaks as it gets pulled over his head. “Grace’s body is extremely insightful for science, and very pleasant to touch. Soft. Will take any opportunity to explore, as long as you let me.”
For the first time in the day, the burning on his cheeks isn’t a reminder of his humiliation, but a pleasant sensation that leaves him light-headed. He lets out a sigh, as if he’s a Disney princess being courted by a handsome prince.
“Whoa. Okay,” he says with a giggle, a shy smile on his lips. He sits on his butt again so Adrian can help him with the leg braces, and then, finally, get his pants peeled off him. His underwear remains, though; wet and uncomfortably tight around his crotch. Oh, man. He might get a rash from this. His skin has always been a bit more on the sensitive side.
Adrian helps him get to his feet and removes his wet boxers, letting them fall to his ankles before Grace steps out of them. His skin was already red, but the flush now visibly reaches his chest, leaving warmth in its wake. It helps to protect him from the beach’s wind.
It’s not like the beach is cold, though. The water is always pleasantly warm—courtesy of Adrian—so the temperature of the biodome is never lower than 15°C. That might change, though; Grace had recently introduced the Eridians to the concept of seasons. They have them as well, but it only fluctuates between hot and very hot. The lowest temperature registered on Erid had been 157°C, decades ago. They’re curious about Earth’s winter. Grace would rather not think about it.
He folds his hands over his crotch despite how pointless it is, watching with a smile as Adrian enters the water. Once they’re a few meters in, they extend their front limb, encouraging Grace to come with them. Grace accepts the offer, taking their claw as he sinks his legs into the water.
It’s soft. The exosuit was designed with a silicone coating on the tip—like a glove—so neither Adrian nor Rocky hurt Grace when handling him. It had been Rocky’s idea; he knew they’d need to touch him a lot during his recovery process.
Talking about Rocky, it seems he’s finally arrived with the toiletries: a sponge, liquid soap, and a big, fluffy towel. His glasses also hang from one of his claws, and it seems he decided to leave his cane back in the house. He lays everything on a nearby stone, and follows them both into the water with the soap and sponge held in his front claws. Adrian tilts so Rocky can crawl up their carapace; he’s too small for the depth they’d sunk in. Grace giggles at the sight. The water reaches Grace’s waist, while it covers Adrian’s limbs almost completely.
“I can do that myself,” Grace says as an attempt to keep part of his dignity intact, reaching for the sponge in Rocky’s claw. But he holds it out of reach.
“No. Rocky and Adrian help. You relax.”
“Yes,” Adrian agrees. “But there is still some left in you. Should let go before I clean,” they say, pulling Grace closer.
“Huh?”
“Still full here.” They press Grace’s lower abdomen, massaging his bladder. Oh god.
“N-no, thanks. I’ll just do that in the toilet,” he says, though now that Adrian has mentioned it, he does feel full. He squeezes his thighs together.
“Let go. Is okay! Not feel disgust anymore,” Rocky tells him encouragingly.
“Mmmmno,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to piss himself willingly. “Nope!”
“Not good to hold it in.” They’re still massaging him, claws gently sinking into Grace’s soft skin. It feels weirdly good. A bit too good. Adrian presses their claw slightly harder against him, and Grace moans.
“F-fudge, ah!” he lets out, grabbing Adrian’s limb and pushing it away from his body. What the hell is wrong with him today?! It’s supposed to hurt, isn’t it? The ache is there, but it borders on pleasure. He wants Adrian to do it again—poke at him, test his limits; where it hurts and where it doesn’t—but he’d rather swim until he reaches the bottom of this ocean than ask that of them.
“Why is Grace's penis rigid?” Rocky asks.
Grace looks down. Jesus Christ.
“Okay. I’m leaving!” he announces, walking towards the beach. His legs had suddenly gone wobbly; it feels as if he’s walking through quicksand. He takes two steps before Adrian blocks his way.
“Adrian, please,” he begs. “This is way too embarrassing.”
“No, no. Is very interesting,” they correct him. “Want to learn. That is an erection, correct? What triggered it, specifically?”
“Adrian. C’mon.”
“For science,” they chirp. “This is safe space.”
Grace snorts at the term. He’s pretty sure they learned it from a movie. Maybe if he tells them, they’ll let him go. “I’m not sure,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. The warm water against it is rather pleasant. “I know some people feel good when their bladder is full, but this has never happened before. It could be because you were pressing it? I– I think that might’ve been it. Um, being with you guys also makes me feel good, I suppose.”
“Amaze! Want to make Grace feel good,” Rocky says from above him. Grace can’t look at them right now. “Let Adrian touch you.”
“N-no,” he protests, but his cock fills even more at the prospect. The traitor.
He wants it. He’s startled at the thought; at how much he wants it and, if he’s honest with himself, for how long he’s been craving it. They watch him masturbate sometimes, but they’ve never touched him. They’ve never asked. “It’s– it’s very intimate for humans,” he warns. “And it can get messy.”
“Is okay, sweetheart.” Grace feels guilty about how his cock twitches at the pet name Adrian uses for him. “We love you, and we clean up after. We help. Can touch you, please?”
He wants to at least put on a scene before he accepts it, so it feels more dignified, but all of his blood has gone south, and he wants nothing more than to be touched. Especially after hearing that they love him. He’d be weeping if he wasn’t so horny.
He nods, swaying in the water as he moves towards Adrian, like how the Hail Mary had gravitated towards the planet named after them.
“Please,” Grace whispers once they’re closer to the shore, knowing he’ll be heard no matter what. He sits down on the sand and reaches for his glasses, firmly putting them on so they wouldn’t fall. Rocky drops off Adrian’s carapace to settle in front of him, while Adrian sits right behind his back, making a nice, warm place for him to lean against. He kisses them first, then Rocky, and together they make a happy, purring noise. He’d be purring too if he could.
Rocky’s claws land on his knees, and he spreads Grace’s legs. His cock lies heavy and full against his thigh, pre-come already gathering at the tip, mingling with the ocean’s water. He gently bites his hand as Rocky starts to explore his skin—the inside of his thighs, his calves, the back of his legs—and moans when he feels Adrian’s claw settle gently on his lower abdomen, pressing down for a few seconds on his bladder before releasing it.
Their other frontal claw rests on his chest. They pinch his right nipple, and Grace groans, arching his back.
“Who–” he moans again as Adrian plays with it, pinching and pulling, sometimes even twisting. “Who taught you that–”
“Laptop. Wanted to research human anatomy,” Adrian says matter-of-factly. “You are so sensitive...” they remark, sounding fascinated. They switch claws; now, the right one is pressing on Grace’s bladder while the other plays with the left nub of his nipple. They’re hard from the cold and oversensitive; it’s been a while since he’s last touched them.
As a matter of fact, it’s been a while since someone has touched him in general. And by a while, he means a good fifteen years.
Sex, or romance, doesn’t come to him as naturally as it does to other people. He feels horny sporadically, but he never thought about anyone specific…not until he met Rocky, at least. Then Adrian. Though what plays in his head while he jerks himself off is more about the scenario or the fantasy itself than the people in it.
This is different, though. He loves them—loves being their mate. He craves their touch; cherishes their relationship like he’s never cherished anything else before. Like he’d never experienced this kind of love, which, well. He hasn’t.
Rocky takes his cock gently in his claw. Grace whimpers at the contact, but he knows it won’t be as pleasurable as he’d like without some slickness.
“R-Rock,” he says shakily, trying to block out the sensation of Adrian’s touch for at least a few seconds so he can speak, “we need something to lubricate your claw with.”
“Soap?” he asks. Grace chuckles, shaking his head. God, no.
“No, no. That’ll burn. Will– will you come here?”
Rocky does, getting closer to him. Grace takes his right claw, brings it close to his mouth, and spits in it. He grins when Rocky quickly pulls it back, scandalized. He stares at it for a few seconds, processing, then throws a tantrum.
“Gross gross gross! Yuck! Grace ♬♪♫♫! So disgusting! Human ♪♪♬♪♪, ♪♪♪♪♪♬!” He protests, drumming his other claws against the sand. Oh, no, had Grace ruined it for him? Maybe he should’ve asked first–
“Liar liar liar!” Adrian says, tapping their claws against the sand. Grace raises his brows. They rarely did that; it was more of a Rocky thing. “Rocky loves it. Pretends not, but it does,” they tell him. Grace’s gaze turns back to Rocky.
“Nooo...” From the high-pitched sound that leaves Rocky’s vents, it seems like he’s whining. Grace watches, mouth slightly agape, as he flexes his claw a few times, spreading his spit all over the silicone. Wait. Wait. Is he actually into it?! That means—
“Have you been into that all this time?!” Grace asks. Rocky tilts his carapace left and right, as if he wants to run away.
“Not always,” he says weakly. Grace’s grin comes back at full force. Before he can tease him for it—and he definitely will when this is over—Adrian speaks.
“Give other claw, Rocky.”
He complies. Rocky extends his appendage, a bit shaky, and instead of straight-up spitting on it, Grace does something different.
He starts with a gentle kiss, then sucks on each one of his claws, the taste of silicone familiar as he bobs his head and twirls his tongue around it. Rocky doesn’t have eyes, but Grace still tries to keep his gaze locked on him while he puts on a show, groaning so he can feel his pleasure deep in his carapace. He licks it one last time, tongue flat against the silicone, and then, just then, he spits on it.
Rocky brings his claw slowly towards himself and apparently short-circuits, freezing like he’s been struck. Adrian, as if inspired by Grace’s lewd display, abandons his nipple in favor of pushing a claw inside the hot cavern of his mouth. He gratefully sucks on it with a moan, exercising his oral fixation.
“So pretty,” Adrian says. “Will make you feel so good. Our sweet Grace.”
He whines, but not only because of the praise. Rocky has finally moved, wrapping both of his claws around Grace’s cock with no warning. He starts to stroke up and down, matching the movements Grace usually performed on himself. It makes him roll his eyes to the back of his head, seeing stars.
“Feels good, Grace?” Rocky asks teasingly. Adrian presses down his bladder again, and that, paired with Rocky’s stroking, nearly makes him scream.
“Fud—hmph! Yes!” he cries out. Adrian gives him a few seconds to talk, removing their claw from his mouth. “Don’t—Chrissst in a bike—don’t stop, please, please!”
“Quiet,” Adrian tells him. Their claw makes its way past his lips again. “Suck.”
He does. He holds onto Adrian’s limb with both of his hands, steadying it in front of him, and starts properly bobbing his head. Adrian makes a fist so he can suck on the whole tip of their limb instead of only one or two individual claws, and it’s driving Grace crazy with how full he feels. He wishes Rocky would fuck him, too, though he doesn’t dare doing that without proper lubrication.
He groans around Adrian’s limb as Rocky pumps him faster, wrapping his claw around the tip and gathering more slick before bringing it to the base in efficient strokes. He’s a quick learner; maybe he’d been taking mental notes every time he’s seen Grace touch himself; studying him, analyzing his movements like one would analyze a bug under a microscope.
The thought puts him on edge. He thrusts up into Rocky’s fist, arches his back, but doesn’t want to come yet. Not without permission.
He gently pushes Adrian’s claw away from his mouth. “Can– can I, hmph!” He cries out as Rocky’s claw teases his head, gently squeezing it. He’s so sensitive it almost hurts. “May I come, p-please? Adrian?”
They hum. “Can you do it without making a mess?”
“Nnn–no, don’t think so,” he huffs out. All coherent thoughts have already leaked out of his dick. “Can’t hold it back. I can’t, I can’t.” He’s so close. Adrian needs to tell him yes. He’ll cry if he doesn’t get to come. He’s already crying. “Please!”
“Human body is so inefficient,” Adrian tells him, holding an arm around Grace’s chest and pulling him closer against their bulk. Rocky follows; he doesn’t stop stroking, not even as Adrian manhandles him. Then they press down hard against his lower abdomen, firmer than before, and Grace opens his mouth in a silent scream, though the only thing that comes out of it is a sequence of ragged moans. “Will you wet yourself for us, Grace?” They ask. “Are you ready to sacrifice your dignity again?”
“Y-yes!” He nods desperately. “Yes yes yes!”
“Then go ahead.”
The release is instant. Grace slumps against Adrian’s carapace and arches his back as he goes through what he thinks is the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life, erupting in white ropes of come that cover his chest and abdomen. One spurt even reaches his glasses, leaving a white stain on the lens and his cheek. Adrian hooks their limbs underneath his armpits so he doesn’t drop to the sand, and he doesn’t know if it’s because they stopped pressing down on his bladder, but he can't hold his piss in anymore—not even if he wanted to.
When he lets go, it's just as intense as his orgasm; Grace moans so loudly it nearly echoes in his biodome, squeezing his eyes shut as the piss flows out of his slit and onto himself, covering him in wet, hot warmth. Rocky, the absolute freak, aims so that the stream is always hitting his skin, not a single drop dripping onto the sand if it hasn’t landed on his body first. It’s the weirdest, most relaxing thing he’s ever done in his life. It feels so good he cries with it, tears streaming down his face and joining the liquid below. He hopes Rocky's enjoying the view.
“Pretty pretty pretty!” Rocky says. He moves from between his legs to lie on his side, claw carressing his chest. “Good job, Grace."
“Very good,” Adrian agrees, adjusting Grace’s position so that they can sink a claw into his hair. He instantly melts, closing his eyes with a deep sigh.
“Thank you,” Grace whispers. This is the first time in hours he’s completely emptied his bladder, and he feels amazing; pleasantly used and spent, brain feeling like mush. There's a buzzing in the background, though he can't tell if it's coming from inside or outside of his head; it feels like static, or the hum of white noise. It's so nice. He doesn’t want to open his eyes.
He hears talking next to him, but he can’t make words out of it, too focused on the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore again and again and that buzzing sound. Then he feels the motion of being lifted and taken somewhere, flinching when Adrian lowers him into the water again. It doesn’t take long for him to relax, though; the sea is warm, and they’re washing his body with the soap and sponge, lathering him before letting the waves rinse the bubbles off his body.
Once they’re done cleaning him up, Adrian settles him down on the towel, far from where they were before. Rocky starts drying him with his shirt.
“You go to house now?” He asks.
“Hmmm…” Grace provides helpfully, eyes still closed.
“♬♪♫♫.” He feels them vibrate as they both chuckle. “♪♫♪, ♬♪. You sleep, we watch.”
Yes, Grace thinks, curling on the towel. He couldn’t make the words before that last sentence—so familiar and dear to him, with its chords engraved in his mind—but that’s okay. What matters is that he’s been permitted to drift off. Adrian settles behind him while Rocky squeezes himself between his thighs and legs. They’re warming him up from all sides. It feels like a dream.
Just like that, he sleeps.