Chapter Text
After getting used to life on the ship physically, you found yourself with a new difficult problem. Aboard Stratt’s Vat were countless engineers, scientists, doctors, but all of them were so cold and professional. Humans need social connections to be able to function properly but these options were as appealing as cold, unrefrigerated soup. That had been left out on the counter. For days.
I guess what you were trying to get at is that you were a bit lonely. A lot bit lonely, actually. And yeah a lot of the people aboard the ship were physically attractive, most older, greying, tall. But you couldn’t see yourself having a fulfilling conversation with any of them. Sure, sex eases some of that physical loneliness, but the emotional part you also wanted to assess.
Hanging out at the bar watching some of these world-renowned scientists butcher some of your favorite 80s anthems kind of sucked. Usually you would’ve found it funny, if you were with friends you could actually discuss this with. But again, you have none. On this ship, at least.
A bit hunched over, you were finishing your glass of beer that had gone a little flat and room temperature.
Ugh, you thought to yourself.
“Um.. Charlie?” you called.
The bartender swiveled around to face you. He was nice. You frequent the bar so often that you have gotten to know him a bit. He reminds you of one of your cousins though, so him being on your list of potential suitors was obviously not on the table. Would be too weird.
“What’s up?”
You hesitated. Stratt had kindly demanded people not drink anything harder than beer on non-special occasions so as to not hinder our abilities to do our jobs well. Everyone respected that, of course, since Stratt can be.. well.. scary? Intimidating? That’s probably a nicer word. Anyway, you needed some kind of relief for your loneliness and alcohol provided that. It made you feel warm, a little less tense, a little more social.
The social part didn’t really matter right now, but the rest seemed very attractive. Sometimes you would get a bit tipsy and wander back to your quarters and masturbate, imagining it was someone else’s hands. Someone smart but sexy.
“Yes?” Charlie inquired, snapping you out of your mini-daze.
Oops, right.
“Charlie, my friend, would it be possible to get a shot?” You smiled. “Or two?”
He smiled back at you and turned back around to face the bottles of hard liquor behind him.
“Okay.” He poured over two shots of tequila, slid them over to you, and hovered a finger over his lips. “Just make sure you keep this between us.”
“Got it!” You lit up and quickly downed both of them like a champ. Charlie took the shot glasses and walked away to rinse them at the sink.
You almost immediately felt the warmth spread across your body, having not eaten much today because you were so busy. Scanning the room, you felt a bit disappointed at the lack of candidates. Duh, there were people who were already hooking up, nobody really cared. It was common. So then, why couldn’t you find someone? Was there something wrong with you? Were you ugly and nobody ever had the decency to tell you?
That’s awful. What awful thinking, too. You didn’t usually find yourself thinking this negatively, but it had been a particularly stressful week. Which is probably also why you had grown so fixated on your lack of mate aboard this ugly, grey, ship. What an ugly ship. Ugly ship. Ugly. Dude, were you ugly? Maybe. Or maybe you were just a bit drunk. Could two beers and two shots do that? It definitely could when you were in college. Do bodies change that much over a span of a few years? Like, since college, has your body changed that much? You could definitely get a bit drunk off of that amount of alcohol. Plus it wasn’t like you were gone, just feeling a little funny.
Funny.
God, it had been a while since you met a funny guy. Or girl. Like actually funny, not slightly charismatic where you felt you had to laugh, you know? Like, almost forced to laugh.
Ugh. You thought, I just wanna have sex with someone. Who cares about the formalities and the before and the after and the talking? Not me.
You couldn’t finish that thought before the perfect solution hit you. Literally. Someone had just bumped into you, nearly knocking you out of the stool you were sitting on.
“Come on!”
“Yes, let’s go, just one song!”
They tried to pull him by his arm but he lifted them up in defense and walked backward without looking.
“Oof.”
He turned to steady you on your stool, a hand landing on your waist and another gripped the bar counter.
“Guys, please.” He turned to a couple people you didn’t recognize and pleaded.
They looked at each other, smiled, and then told him they’d let him off the hook this one time, but that next time he had to participate. They walked away giggling.
“I am so sorry.”
Damn. He was kind of tall. His glasses were low on his nose, his hair a little disheveled, strong hands, and he wasn’t wearing the boring stuff other people on board would usually wear. He had on a cream cardigan and it looked really soft.
“Uh,” you squeaked.
His eyes darted to his hand that was still situated on your waist. He quickly removed it and whipped it to his side, face a bit flushed.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said. You gave him a warm smile and he gave a shy one back. “What’s your name?”
“Dr. Grace.” He held a hand out for you. “Dr. Ryland Grace.”
You shook it.
His hands were calloused, but still soft. Yum. That was the alcohol talking, for sure.
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled again, pushing out a stool next to yours to offer him a seat.
“Oh, thanks.” He sat.
“So, what do you do here?”
“I’m a molecular biologist. But to be fair, I actually have no idea what I’m doing here. Before this, I was teaching at a middle school. I just kind of got dragged into this. I know technically I’m qualified, but could they not find someone else?” He quietly scanned the room.
“I don’t know. I feel out of place sometimes,” he said.
Hm.
“Yeah, I do too,” you said. His face lit up.
“Really? Oh God, great, I thought I was the only one who felt like, what the hell? Everyone else seems like they have been training for this exact thing their entire life. Like their sole purpose was to board a big grey ship headed to God knows where and be commanded on how exactly they could help save the world. It’s so crazy. Like, some weeks ago my most stressful problem was what I was going to have for dinner!” He went on.
You laughed and it snapped him out of his rant. You were more than enjoying listening to someone have what seemed like actual human thoughts. This is literally what you were wishing for! It didn’t really matter that he wasn’t asking anything about you, but to be fair maybe he was a bit nervous. He seemed a bit tweaky, but not the drunk kind of tweaky. Just like… hyper?
“Sorry,” he gulped. “I don’t know why I feel so comfortable talking to you.” You giggled again.
“It’s okay. I’m really enjoying it,” you said.
He gave you a shy smile. “Really?”
“Yeah. I get pretty lonely sometimes.” You looked around, scanning the room just as he did a few moments before. “And whenever I talk to other people they all seem like robots. Maybe we’re the only two humans in a sea of humanoid robot dwellers scientists back on land created to help us help them,” you whispered.
“Maybe.” He smiled, looking straight at you. You could feel it even though you were still looking away.
“So, what are y—”
“Do you wanna go back to my room?” you asked, kind of shocking yourself.
It’s the alcohol. And the potential mate sitting in front of you. Weeks of no sex and drinking on an empty stomach will make you blurt things out like that.
He stayed quiet until you turned to look him in the eye. He thought you were really pretty, and funny, and that made him nervous. Plus, he was on the same boat you were on, literally and figuratively. He hadn’t had sex with anyone for a while, even before boarding the ship. But he wasn’t dumb and he knew he wanted to take this chance.
“Um, sure,” he said.
As you got up to pick up your jacket that was on another stool behind you, Dr. Grace got up quickly as well. He stayed quiet as he followed you to your cabin. It took you a bit to open the door and you stumbled while stepping inside.
“Woah,” you said. He swiftly caught you by the arm before you could begin to make further descent down to the floor. You turned up to look at him and giggle.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah.” He said, softly releasing your arm and looking around the room. You had a couple pictures up of you and some friends, family, and your cats. The room was mostly organized except for some clothes laying around here and there.
“You can uh, sit on my bed,” you said, kicking off your shoes as he nodded and walked over to sit, quickly reaching down to do the same. As he was untying the laces on his shoes, he choked back a cough. Near his shoe was a pair of black lacey underwear, the kind people only wear on special occasions.
What? You forgot to do laundry.
“Oops.”
You slid over to grab them and throw them under a shirt and some pants you had lying around. You tried to hold back a laugh as you turned around and saw Dr. Grace’s face had turned bright red. He finished taking off his shoes and politely tossed them aside.
“I missed laundry day, okay?” You laughed. He didn't.
He looked somewhere else as you walked over to stand in front of him. He was sitting below you, hands folded on his lap, averting your gaze. Now was your chance. You reached a hand over to cup his cheek and then slid over your hand to softly massage his hair. He seemed to like this, his eyes closed gently and then opened to look straight at you.
“What?” you hummed softly.
“Nothing,” he said. A moment passed.
He cleared his throat. “You’re really pretty.”
He could feel his face burning up and his heart thumping in his chest. This is more play than he’d gotten probably ever. He wasn’t a virgin, but the experiences he had were mostly always centered around the girl. But don’t get him wrong, he loves it. He likes pleasing women and even made it a task to find out the best methods and practices to get a girl to the finish line. But he’s not used to this much attention on him, especially not from someone he just met, who he finds really attractive.
“Thank you.” You inched a bit forward. “You are too.”
“What?” he said. “Pretty?”
“Mhm.” Your other hand rose to push his glasses up his nose and move some hair out of his face. “I find you incredibly attractive, Dr. Grace.”
He’s hard. He’d never been called Dr. Grace in this context and it’s definitely doing something to him. He can’t figure out why, not right now, but it probably has something to do with him doing something intimate like this while still being seen and regarded as someone important, someone smart.
“Mm. Really?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” you exhaled, surprising him by leaning over to kiss his throat.
His skin was warm and soft. His hands shot out of his lap and landed behind him to steady himself as he moved backward, allowing you to have more space to cover. You could feel his heart pumping as you kissed and licked up his neck. When you landed upon the space below his ear and next to his jaw, he tensed a bit.
You stopped, but didn’t pull away.
“Is this okay?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said quickly.
“Okay.”
You continued kissing and licking that spot, your left hand running through his hair. Finding it hard to balance, you crawled carefully into his lap, straddling him. He let out a small huff. He was hard. You could feel it, and it felt amazing. His hands instinctively rose up and respectfully landed on your waist. As respectful as you could be in this position, anyway. You shifted a bit to hump him, and he whimpered softly.
God. Thank God.
It was delicious, and you wanted more. You continued that same spot but then rose up a bit to gently bite his ear. He liked it. He twitched a bit under you and the feeling of arousal was amplified by you still being intoxicated, which you had forgotten had even happened. But who cares. You softly licked around his ear and it was nothing like he’d ever felt before. He thinks he’s finding out a lot about himself sexually right now.
Taking your chance now that you were by his ear, you whispered:
“What are you gonna do to me, Dr. Grace?”
He moaned out loud, hips jumping up and providing a short moment of friction. He then moved his head around to finally kiss you, and it was so sweet and rewarding and hot. You carefully inserted your tongue into his mouth, wanting to deepen the kiss, but he stopped.
“Mm. Wait.” His brows furrowed.
“What?”
Oh no. You were scared you overstepped or made him uncomfortable and this was the most horrible feeling ever.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asked.
“Huh?”
Huh??
“Sorry. I mean, you taste like, something other than beer.”
“And?”
“Are you drunk?” He looked genuinely concerned.
“I mean. I.. I guess?” You stammered.
“I’m sober.” He stated.
Oh?
“I mean like, not sober sober, just.. I haven’t had anything tonight." He looked a bit embarrassed that he had stopped you two in the middle of something. You couldn't tell if this was genuine or because he was feeling too nervous to perform but either way, you were disappointed.
“Oh.” You said.
“Yeah.”
“Why does that matter?” you asked, puzzled.
His eyebrows shot up. “I mean, I-I can’t have sex with someone while I’m sober and they’re drunk and can’t properly consent. I mean I can, people can, uh… people do, but… not me.”
“I consent.” You smiled.
“No!” he exclaimed. “I mean yes, but no! It doesn’t work that way!” He was turning a bit red again.
“Do you consent?” you asked, leaning down to kiss his neck again. All you wanted was to taste more of him, to get closer to him and experience all of him. Yes, you were drunk but that didn't take away from the hot scientist below you, the one who had just made you laugh at the bar. He's cute. His neck is warm. He smells good. You still wanted to pounce on him.
“I-I do.. but you can’t!” he stammered, hands flying off your waist and going back to stabilize himself on the bed again.
“You smell good,” you said.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you. But seriously,” he said gently, almost in a parent-like tone.
Hot. He grabbed your hands and cupped them with his, lowering them down to your lap. You frowned.
“I’m serious. I like you. But I can’t um.. have.. you.. like this.” He stated softly. “I don’t want to, like this.”
“Okay.” You complied.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Usually you wouldn’t react poorly to rejection, it happens. And usually you would be really charmed by this, he cares. He respects you. But something about the liquor made you feel like it was personal. Like you were ugly and weren’t wanted, despite him literally just saying the opposite. Directly. To your face. Your eyes welled up and you looked down at his chest.
“Wait! I’m sorry!” He panicked.
Oh, God. He made you cry. It stung his chest really bad. He wanted to hold you but he had to make you understand first.
You sniffed. Why are you acting this way??
“Oh my God, I’m sorry.”
What could he say to make you feel better?
“I really like you, I do. But I don’t know what kind of man I’d be if I had sex with you while you’re drunk. I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you say you want it, I don’t think it’s right,” he explained. He was kind of flailing around his hands while explaining himself.
Get yourself together! You thought to yourself.
“No, I know,” you started. “I really respect that.”
“Y-Yeah?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m just drunk,” you sighed. You ran your hands through your hair before putting them back down on your lap in defeat. This was so insanely embarrassing.
“It’s okay,” he said.
“Yeah.” You were still looking down at his chest. His breathing had slowed from the panicked state he was in just a moment ago.
“Can I hold you?” he asked, shyly.
You hummed a yes and he moved the both of you to lay down on your bed.
Ugh, you thought. It feels so good to be taken care of like this, even if what you wanted was sex. This is just as great. Wrapped up in a tall guy’s arms, smelling his faded cologne mixed with the sweat formed from arousal. You were still kind of turned on but deliberately chose to ignore it and let it fade away in order to fully enjoy this moment. He smelled kind of like cinnamon and it was so homey and comforting.
“I think you’re really beautiful,” he whispered, moving a strand of hair out of your face.
“Mmthanks,” you let out, feeling sleepy. You were done for and you were about to pass out in a hot scientist's arms.
A few more moments passed before he spoke again.
“I’ll make it up to you, promise,” he whispered, but you had already fallen asleep.