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"What is this, question?"
That's the only warning Ryland Grace receives before he feels a sharp jolt of pain directly on his right nipple. He makes an undignified noise, pitching up far higher than he wants. He slaps at the offending object, a xenonite covered claw as confused chitters stream in beside him. Rocky is in his latest prototype for his "bubble". Now it's more like a classic EVA suit with clear xenonite. It means Rocky has more freedom to move about the Hail Mary. And to pinch, apparently.
"Wha- hey!" Grace sputters, instinctively reaching up to cover where he'd just been touched. He cups his own chest as his attention is ripped away from the microscope.
A small accident (he tripped over one of Rocky's tools) earlier that morning left him with a shirt soaked in coma-slurry. Grace was too focused on checking the Taumoeba food farms, electing to just divest the shirt and get back to work. He had science to do! The new food focused farms were his main focus now that they had nitrogen resistant Taumoeba. Making sure Grace lives to see Erid was the newest priority now that his and Rocky's "saving their home-worlds" part of the mission was mostly over.
So Grace took off his shirt and chucked it into the bin to be washed. Improper lab safety, he knows! But it's not like he was doing anything with severe chemicals. Just checking the numbers on the breeder tanks and taking observational notes. Maybe a peak at the microscope just to ensure no visible mutations were present. Besides, he's on a spaceship with one other being. The cameras shut down automatically when he sent the beetles out. It wasn't like Rocky particularly cared about nudity. Well… not until now.
Grace huffs and turns to the Eridian perched on the table. Grace has gotten pretty good at identifying Rocky's body language in the year-or-so (Earth measurement) since they've met. Rocky's carapace is slightly tilted, as much as he can be in the XEVA suit, which typically means he's got questions, questions, questions.
"That's a nipple, Rocky. They're common on mammals from Earth," he sighs, lightly rubbing at his chest. His nipple had pebbled up in reaction to the pinch and Grace wrinkles his nose at how sensitive it feels.
"But you explain nipples are for female mammals to feed young. Why Grace have one, question?"
"Uh… all humans have them," he relaxes a little more, falling into the familiar "teacher lecture" mode he falls into whenever Rocky has questions on how Earth works.
Now that Rocky has his own laptop the in-depth conversations have become less common, but sometimes Rocky has trouble with written language or gets too bored of reading in general, so he pesters Grace. Or in this case, there's a gap in the knowledge that Grace revealed that needs further explaining. By being shirtless around Rocky. He really should be following proper lap precautions. He's gotten lax between the space induced isolation and sudden lack of life-or-death space walks. He used to write kids up for wearing open-toed shoes on lab days.
"Grace not female of species, though. Make no sense, statement," Rocky emphasizes his words with a familiar one-tap stomp, which Grace knows is the Eridian equivalent of an indignant huff.
"Biology loves making shortcuts. All humans start off the same in the first couple of weeks of gestation. That's when the nipples develop and all. That's also why humans wait to find out the sex of the baby- the sex doesn't develop until later on." Grace leans back in his lab chair, hands moving as he rambles on. He doesn't mind Rocky's questions, even if he rolls his eyes at them occasionally. He was a teacher back on Earth and it was a job he missed dearly sometimes. This is just teaching once again, with a curious alien that really struggled with boundaries sometimes.
"Mmm. Human biology inefficient, statement."
Grace rolls his eyes. This isn't a new opinion from his companion.
"Human biology inefficient, confirmation," he hums. He likes to parrot the way Rocky's text-to-speech program speaks sometimes. It's just a fun little bit he does. Rocky seems to enjoy it too, as it closer aligns with the way Eridian grammar is structured.
"Also," Grace continues, turning his head slightly to look over at Rocky again. "Don't randomly grab at people's nipples." He doesn't know why he's phrasing it as though Rocky would somehow meet another human.
Then again, Rocky will live longer than him. Even if Grace makes it through the lack of nutrients that's looming over their four year trip to Erid… It's probably that within Rocky's much longer lifetime that the Eridians will continue on with space travel. If humanity survived back on Earth, there's a strong chance that Eridians might also want to visit their sentient neighbors. Dependent on how both species survived their Astrophage-induced winters.
A prod at his shoulder stirs Grace from his rather depressing spiral.
"Grace no shirt in lab. Why, question?" Rocky brings the claw that he had been poking Grace with down in the familiar two-stomp emphasis of his question.
Grace's face scrunches up into something more sheepish as his shoulders draw up.
"I spilled breakfast on myself and didn't want to leave the lab to grab a new one."
"Human clumsy. Clumsy, leaky, stupid. Human biolo-"
"Human biology inefficient, yeah, yeah. I got it, Rock," Grace huffs as he cuts off Rocky's chastising. He stands up then, ignoring the slight twinge in his back from how he's been hunching over experiments all morning. He's been thoroughly distracted from his experiments now anyways. Might as well go get a shirt.
"Where Grace going, question?"
"I'm grabbin' a shirt," Grace grunts, shuffling over to the crew quarters. He hears skittering and the familiar tha-thunk-tha-thunk of Rocky's multiple limbs being used to climb off the table. The little spider-rock loves being able to use the Hail Mary as his jungle-gym now that he's no longer constrained to the ball.
"Grace always covered, statement. Rocky want see more, request."
That stops Grace in place. He turns slowly to the Eridian trailing after him like a lost puppy. His mouth moves, brows knitting together, but nothing comes out for a few seconds. Not until a small wheeze that's almost a laugh of surprise comes out.
"I- Rock- I-" Grace stammers as his mouth tries to catch up to the whirling thoughts in his brain. He's not even certain how to reply to that.
"Rocky see through Grace clothing, but Rocky want more, request."
"More?!" Grace squeaks out, feeling his face heating up now. "What do you mean by that, Rocky?"
Rocky raises one arm, his claw flexing in the xenonite and making little grabbing motions. The xenonite's tap-tap-tap sound from the motion echoes in Grace's mind for a little too long.
Grace pauses, gives Rocky a proper once over. The creature is just fidgeting- shifting his weight between his other legs as the one making grabbing motions slowly eases back to the ground. Finally, Grace's brain seems to come back online. He closes his mouth before swiftly shaking his head.
"No."
He turns back to continue on towards the crew quarters, feeling his ears and cheeks burning as he rushes.
"Grace!" Rocky trills from behind him. Grace can hear the skittering taps of Rocky following swiftly behind, making him pick up his pace.
"Nope! You already groped me once today, that's good enough!"
"Rocky get more nipple tomorrow, question?"
"Get more nip-" Grace mutters to himself as he repeats Rocky's insistent request. "No!"
"But Grace say 'once today'. Imply Rocky have more tomorrow."
"You're not getting anymore ever, Rock!" Grace calls as he all but dives head first into a duffel bag. He doesn't bother looking inside, feeling for the fabric in his hand and grabbing the first piece that catches.
It's his old college hoodie, well-worn with lettering that's cracked all throughout. He shoves it on, knocking his glasses off his face in the process. The hoodie is backwards, covering his face as Rocky continues their argument.
"Why, question?"
Grace huffs as he rips the hood down. His glasses fall to the ground as he takes his arms out of the sleeves of the hoodie. It's not the most dignified series of actions as he argues with his alien roommate about why he doesn't want his nipples touched. He glares at Rocky through hazy vision as he twists the fabric around his body to finally sit correctly.
The hoodie is loose on him, he purposely bought it a couple sizes up so it would be something soft and cozy for him. It means he hides easier now, the hood getting pulled up to cover his swiftly reddening ears. Not that it matters, Rocky can see through clothing apparently. But it makes Grace feel better.
"Because-" Grace starts, desperately trying to find the right words that won't make him even more flustered. There's a heat curling low in his gut that he does not think about. "It's a human thing. Nipples are private-"
"No understand. Grace say eating social for human. Nipple for feeding."
"Yes! But-" he groans as he reaches down to finally grab his glasses. He cleans them as a distraction from looking at Rocky at all. "-nipples are sensitive. They aren't inherently sexual, but touching them can be."
He winces. There's a mix of societal norms and biology to explain to Rocky in order to make him understand why asking to touch Grace's chest is weird.
"No understand."
Grace groans, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how saving his planet could have ever possibly led to this exact moment.
"Okay- yes nipples are for feeding. However, they are very sensitive parts of the skin and touching them outside of feeding time is very intimate."
"Mmm… but Rocky-Grace intimate, Grace watch Rocky eat."
Grace is really regretting ever asking that of Rocky. Mostly because the jerk likes to use it as an excuse in moments like these to push for his own interests.
Rocky had once made a comment that Grace's actions and curiosities would've been seen as come-ons in Eridian culture. And while Rocky didn't seem that bothered by it, Grace had to wrestle with the fact that he had been flirting with his married best friend for months by Eridian standards. Followed by a very awkward "will Adrian hate me?" thought spiral that Rocky had to drag Grace out of. That's how Grace found out Eridian society isn't monogamous, as Rocky very awkwardly reassured Grace that his "human hussy tendencies" wouldn't bother Adrian (yes Grace very intensely considered flinging Rocky out of the airlock for calling him a hussy).
Fair is fair, Grace decides, still petulant about the whole situation.
"Augh, okay- okay," he acquiesces, ignoring the way his body grows warmer. He chalks it up to the hoodie. "Fine, but after I finish up inspecting the Taumoeba."
"Rocky accept!" The reply comes with Rocky excitedly waving his two foremost claws up in the air. Eridian Jazz Hands. "Excite, excite, excite!"
Grace spends only ten minutes on the Taumoeba. Again, it wasn't like he was doing anything too extreme. Just the standard check-in on his samples, both the astrophage eaters and his new food supply. He spends a good twenty minutes taking the most detailed notes he's taken since sending out the beetles. Most of the time he's blasé, writing down shorthand notes that only he understands because he is the only one who will read them. Today though, he's decided to actually write legibly in his wrinkled composition notebook. He tells himself he's just being practical. Grace knows he's stalling.
Rewriting his notes only nets him so much time. It's quite a while until his designated lunch time. He has more time than ever to kill. With the only priorities keeping himself, Rocky, and the Taumoeba alive, there's not a whole lot to do. Thankfully, Stratt knew better than to send off her sacrificial lambs without something to entertain themselves. She went to court just to ensure that Grace would have as much "reference material" as possible. He doesn't know how an entire state-of-the-art gaming laptop and Spore is considered "reference material", but he's been having a great time with that particular activity recently.
He's stalling. Rocky wants to- experiment? Explore? And Grace is stalling because he really just hates everything about this situation.
Man, he just wants to play Spore.
With a tremendous amount of effort and a twinge in his neck from how he'd been hunching over the lab tables, Grace finally stands.
He takes a deep breath as he slowly meanders back towards the dormitory. He doesn't really understand the swoop in his stomach at the sight of Rocky. He chalks it up to his usual feelings of apprehension he develops whenever something sexual happens.
Grace leans against the door of the dormitory. Rocky knows he's there, but he doesn't bother stopping in whatever project he's working on. There's an anvil-shaped table in front of him that acts as a worktable, made of xenonite, of course. He's got two of his claws down on the floor keeping him stable. Two of Rocky's claws are slotted into his "work gloves" as Grace calls them, sharp needle-like tools strapped to his claws that allows him to do delicate work with xenonite. Judging by the vague Rocky-shaped xenonite pile in front of him, Grace guesses he's once again working on his XEVA suit.
"Grace done with science, question?" Rocky hums, tilting his carapace towards Grace but his arms never stopping their movements. It still astounds Grace to this day how easily Rocky multitasks.
"Grace done with science, statement," he hums, trying to fall into the familiar parts of their routine. It's comforting, even if Grace's stomach is still twisting itself up in knots. He reaches up to grip the back of the hoodie, just rarely remembering to take off his glasses before shucking it.
He sits down on the spare mattress in the corner of the room. It's become a makeshift couch-futon for him and Rocky. Mainly for when they don't want to sit on the grate of the "Don't Go Crazy" room for movie nights. They being Grace, who isn't getting any younger and values not having bruises on his ass from sitting through Lord of the Ring's marathons that take twice longer than normal because Rocky asks questions during movies.
"Excite! Rocky finish new cover for claw!" Rocky chitters as his one free claw 'jazz hands' in the air. "Grace wait, request!"
Grace leans back against the wall, sighing softly as the chilled metal gives him goosebumps. He glances down at himself. He's just starting to lose muscle definition. The lack of food has him cautious, portioning off sections and drinking more coma-slurry mixed with Taumoeba in an attempt to stretch out his actual food. He's also not exercising as he once was, mainly he hasn't had to do any risky EVA adventures. Exercising isn't really his forte, even before back on Earth. He kept the 'teacher gut' down with having to bike to work everyday and he enjoyed walking the beach on foggy Saturdays. But Grace was soft around the edges back on Earth.
Here in space, he's slowly losing the muscles that he gained during his coma. He's trying to keep up some sort of workout routine, mostly to keep himself from getting too lax on their trip. It keeps him on somewhat of a schedule and he's trying to prevent as much atrophy as possible before he really runs out of food. Still, he's softening while on their trip to Erid and it reminds him of the hunger that is looming in his future.
He wonders if this is how those back on Earth felt. If this concern for food is something he shares with those back home. Even if Earth feels more and more like a distant concept rather than home nowadays. He's not going home, he knows that. But he still worries for all those he unwillingly left behind. The beetles will land by the time he and Rocky make it to Erid.
There's a clunk and hiss to his left, followed by a waft of the acrid smell of ammonia. Grace doesn't have to look to know it's Rocky using the airlock to escape his tunnels. Even after practically a year with the little alien, Grace still wrinkles his nose in response to vague scent of cat-pee that Eridians breathe.
"Rocky touch nipple now!" Rocky says, scuttling over. He bounces excitedly in front of Grace once he reaches the edge of the mattress, before clambering over the side and right into Grace's lap. He grunts at the sudden weight on him. Despite Rocky's size he's a dense creature and each little step of his feels like an entire human crawling atop Grace.
"Don't- please don't phrase it like that," Graze wheezes, shaking his head. He's been gaining more memories as time goes on. And while Grace mostly knows himself, sometimes certain situations pull lost time forward.
As Rocky settles between his legs, Grace searches his own mind to think if anyone has ever touched his chest before. He can't find any memories in his mind. He... if he's honest with himself, he doesn't really remember being intimate with anyone. He had a girlfriend, someone he remembers in flashes. The main memories he has of her comes from two separate fights. The one where they broke up and one before, about his "lack of interest" in her.
Grace doesn't remember ever really feeling desire like his peers did, not as a teen and not as an adult. It's something he likes in theory, but the one memory he's got is a fight about his lack of arousal. He hasn't had to think about sex prior to this moment. Hasn't exactly had the time, as saving his world and Rocky's took priority. Life-or-death and the continuation of two whole worlds doesn't leave much room in the brain space for horny time. Grace was all too happy to never think about sex again. But now...
Now he's got a chittering, fidgeting alien in-between his legs waiting to grope him and Grace doesn't know what to do with himself.
If he thinks about it for a while, he comes up with a lot of not great emotions. Anxiety is the biggest one, with a top note of vague disgust. It's not that he's entirely repulsed, it's just one of those things that he thinks more about the afterwards clean-up portion and decides it's not worth the mess. He remembers one of his college buddies laughing at him when he revealed that about himself.
"No wonder Ry is valedictorian, he's not fuckin' around like the rest of us."
Grace doesn't remember if his friend was trying to be mean or not, but he does remember the heat in his face and the shame that coiled in his chest.
He thinks there was a sort of tension with Stratt, but he's uncertain if it was ever really there. They were in close proximity for months on end due to Project Hail Mary. The crew of Stratt's Vat certainly thought something was happening between them. But Grace doesn't remember much more than a few lingering touches and glances. All of it leaves a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
"Grace lost, question?"
Grace is still surprised at how easily Rocky reads him. Yes, they've had a year to get to know each other, but it's still surprising how well Rocky picks up on all Grace's little tells. Like how when he's silent for a little too long, it means he's lost in thought. Grace isn't certain what in his body language tips Rocky off, but the Eridian knows the difference between his usual theorizing and when memories haunt him.
"Yeah," Grace sighs, blinking a few times to get himself to refocus. He adjusts his glasses as he glances down at Rocky. The Eridian has settled, his own legs sprawling over the tops of Grace's thighs. He looks like a cuddly octopus. It's how Rocky usually sits when they settle in for movie nights. "Sorry, Rock."
Please don't let me remember this the next time we have a Rocky marathon.
"Grace nervous."
"What? No-"
"Not question."
Grace winces as he's called out so succinctly. He gives his best apologetic smile, but from the way Rocky deflates in response he's pretty sure it turned into a grimace.
"It's… I'm not uh…" Grace trails off as he tries to find the right words. Explaining the concept of sexuality on top of libido to an alien, specifically his own relationship with said concepts, isn't exactly a conversation he's prepared for. "Intimacy is complicated for me, pal. I'll be honest with you, it's not really my… thing."
Rocky is quiet then, his carapace tilting as he seemingly processes Grace's words.
"Grace… not want, question?" Rocky's little two-tap is slower this time, like he's hesitating. It's something Grace adores about Rocky. For all his brash, excited demanding, he's not cruel or ignorant to Grace's emotions. He cares, of course he does. They're best friends and the only people either of them have.
Grace sucks in a breath through his teeth, looking up at the ceiling as he tries to parse through the emotions that twist in his heart. The situation isn't inherently sexual. He and Rocky are scientists, this is scientific curiosity about another species. Therefore, Grace should just be himself. Even if he believes his sexual reactions to be outside the norm for humans, he shouldn't falsify data. There's also no need to perform. This is Rocky. His best friend. He shouldn't have any hang ups.
He shouldn't.
"Grace stop anytime," Rocky suggests, lifting up his carapace. "Grace uncomfortable, Grace say, Rocky stop. Promise."
That is what finally eases the knots in Grace's stomach. Grace smiles, something smaller and fragile now.
"Thanks, buddy."
With an exhale, Grace slowly adjusts himself. Shifting to stretch back out against the wall. His hips inch lower, closer to Rocky. It wrinkles the blankets and makes the hoodie in his lap bunch up.
"Do your… touch-y experiment business," he instructs, gesturing with one hand for Rocky to go ahead.
Rocky's carapace bounces once before he wriggles even closer and pounces. Though he doesn't actually jump, the speed with which his claws immediately make their way to Grace's chest makes Grace jolt. The xenonite is warm to the touch, just slightly past comfortable. Rocky's been very careful about ensuring the xenonite mixes he uses are good thermal insulators, especially after their "fishing trip". At least, whenever it came to something Grace would touch. Or something that would touch Grace, in this case.
Grace swallows and shivers. At first the touch is merely exploratory, which helps Grace relax. Even as Rocky cups the swell of his pectoral muscle and kneads. The sensation feels like just an awkward massage. Rocky is chittering to himself, leaning in closer and tilting his carapace. His "hind" legs are straddling Grace's hips whilst he feels up Grace. One on either side of Grace's thighs and one resting between.
"No milk, question?"
"No, Rock. Humans don't produce milk unless they're pregnant."
"No milk ever from human male, question?"
Grace tilts his head, trying to remember if he's read any cases on the subject. He never really bothered with human biology, that was more for the medical students.
"Uh… not normally. There might be some recorded cases of it happening. But not me."
"Sad sad sad."
Grace snorts at that, shaking his head at the mere idea. Of course Rocky was being his usual weird alien self while groping Grace.
"You complain all the time about how leaky humans are and now you want me to leak?" Grace asks before wrinkling his nose at his own wording. He really doesn't want to think about having leaking nipples.
Rocky doesn't dignify that with a reply. Instead his claws move from their casual groping and focus in. Grace's breath hitches as he feels the first squeeze to his actual nipple. The pinch in the lab had been rough from the start, the grasp too tight and the xenonite harsh against his skin. Rocky has seemingly learned his lesson, the pressure gently increasing over time.
Grace jolts as the pressure goes from barely noticeable to a dull ache that makes something curl low in his gut. He's not… uncomfortable per se, but blood is definitely pooling lower. He doesn't remember ever doing this before in his life, he never really thought about his chest much at all. And yet, here he was getting felt up by his alien best friend.
Grace tries not to spiral too much about his body's reaction. He tries to tell himself it's just because it's been a while. But another part of him is absolutely thrashing mentally because why is his dick chubbing up from an alien groping him when he couldn't even get a twitch with his ex back on Earth? Grace is aroused for the first time with another person and it's a spider-looking rock alien. Is he a freak? Has he always been a freak? Or is this just what a four-year long coma, medically induced amnesia, and weeks of isolation followed by a rapidly co-dependent relationship with an alien does to a man?
He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, hands moving slowly to tangle up with the blanket beneath him. He can be normal. He can be so normal about the sudden arousal that sparked from this. He's not going to make this weird.
"Grace alright, question?" Rocky asks as his grasp eases up. His claws rest against Grace's pecs as he awaits the answer.
Grace is trying so hard not to spiral and be totally normal. He's totally normal. He's so chill and just hanging out with his "bro".
"I'm good," he confirms, hoping Rocky doesn't notice the slight strain in his voice.
Rocky makes a small trill, a non-word reply like a hum before he goes right back to playing with Grace's nipples. There's a slight relief in Rocky not saying anything, it means Grace has a chance to breathe and reign himself in.
Until the claws go from their gentle pinches to suddenly rolling the nipples between Rocky's fingers. The sensation sends sparks up Grace's spine, his cock suddenly very interested in the proceedings. Grace groans but manages to stifle it into a very wheezy grunt as his hips twitch upward.
"Oh! Grace like, question? Make funny noise."
Grace grumbles, not really saying anything just attempting to make his embarrassment known. His cheeks are fully flushed now and he can feel the heat crawling up to his ears and down his neck. He feels so warm now. Made worse by the knowledge that Rocky can 'see' his blood-flow this close. That was an interesting conversation, knowing Rocky could see his entire cardiovascular system due to the beating of Grace's own heart. It also means-
Oh.
Oh God.
Rocky can definitely see when Grace's blood rushes to other places, can't he?
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Grace is going to die in space. Not to starvation or Ilyukhina's heroin, but because embarrassment is going to wash over him and fry his brain.
Rocky doesn't press for Grace to reply, thank God. He just continues on with his exploration. Grace lets his head fall back as he closes his eyes. He's so incredibly grateful the beetles are already shipped because if Stratt or anyone else had the chance of seeing him getting his chest played with by an alien like this, Grace would throw himself out Mary's airlock.
Rocky suddenly pinches tighter and twists, startling Grace and dragging a startled moan from his lips. He squirms properly then, his hips bucking and searching for any sort of friction. His cock is half-hard, pressed up against the fabric of his pants. There's a dull pressure from the combination of his discarded hoodie and Rocky's XEVA suit. It's not enough to give Grace more than a dull pleasure whenever the fabric catches just right. He hopes the hoodie is keeping him decent from Rocky, at least.
Rocky pulls away in response to Grace's awkward, jerky movements. His claws lift in the air, the digits open in a mockery of Grace's 'Earth-ling' sign of surrender. There's a chitter and Rocky's carapace tilts.
"Grace okay, question?"
Grace pants lightly, needing a moment to center himself again. His brain feels equally empty and so overly full of every thought possible. It's like there's cotton where grey matter should be. He opens his mouth, tongue and lips moving but no vocalization following.
"Grace."
"I'm okay," he breathes out, the only response he can think of. He needs more time to process, but he's not hurt. He just needs to reassure Rocky and then figure out what he's feeling after.
"Grace breathing heavy. Very flushed. Perspiration. Leaky."
Grace groans, shaking his head and trying to settle the sudden thrum of energy in his body. He doesn't even want to spare a glance downwards, because that would mean looking at Rocky and his dick mere inches away from Rocky. He doesn't want to confirm or deny if the presence of "mini-Grace" was obvious or not. If he doesn't see it- it doesn't exist. Schrodinger's penis.
He snorts despite himself at his own weird joke before accepting fate and tilting his head down. Thankfully, it seems mini-Grace is still covered by lumps of fabric between him and Rocky. Rocky just looks confused. Well, he doesn't look any different. But his carapace is tilted and he's sitting in that eerily still way that freaks Grace out sometimes.
"I'm okay," Grace repeats, just to reassure the Eridian. Rocky moves then, his hands slowly shifting to rest against the bed as he stands at full height. There's still a rhythmic tap-tap-tap of one of his claws flexing together and apart repeatedly.
"Grace blood at lower limb-"
"Yeah- yeah, it does that, Rocky. No need to point it out!" Grace squeaks. Welp, that answers that question. He drags his hips up and away from his only friend and companion for the next three years in space.
He swears he can hear the familiar dry chuckle of Stratt in the back of his mind. She would have a field day teasing him for stumbling into being the first sexual contact with an alien species.
"Grace upset, question?"
Grace grumbles, petulant at knowing he can only grit his teeth and bear it for so long. Rocky's really good at calling him on his crap. Despite the species difference, Rocky is particularly well-attuned to Grace's non-verbal tells. Much to Grace's chagrin.
"Not upset. Just… uh…" Grace bites his lip as he tries to assess the entire situation. However his brain still feels like it's filled with cotton. Is this what "thinking with your dick" means? He can't believe he finally understands that phrase because of Rocky. "Well- nipples are sensitive. And I…"
"Grace… excite, question?"
Grace winces. They're going to have to add aroused to their shared dictionary later, aren't they? He tilts his head down to glare at his own crotch. He gives a minute nod, not trusting himself to voice anything further. Not when the cloud of arousal is dying out in favor of ice cold shame. His cock flags in his pants, but unfortunately doesn't go fully soft.
"Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!"
That is not the reaction Grace was expecting.
"Amaze? I- huh?! Rocky-?" He stammers, cutting himself off as his thoughts race. He tilts his head back to look up at Rocky again. The Eridian is doing excited jazz hands. With the same hands that had just been playing with Grace's chest, and the realization makes him want to curl up in a ball.
"Rocky amaze with Grace human biology! Want more!"
Grace lets out a small noise that sounds akin to a tea-kettle that's just finished boiling. He knows it isn't very dignified or sexy, especially as it startles Rocky who starts frantically waving claws around searching for what's wrong while Grace's entire reality shifts.
Rocky has unlimited internet access, thanks to Stratt's designs and Grace's gift of a laptop. Rocky is not stupid, he's actually incredibly smart and talented. He also had the access during the few months he and Grace were separated. Rocky has revealed previously that he's learned more since their initial parting thanks to this.
It's highly likely Rocky knew exactly what he was doing and played Grace like a fiddle.
Why oh why does Grace like that?
This has been a come-on the entire time. Rocky isn't oblivious or purely curious, the little devil. Grace just let Rocky play him and enjoyed it.
"I hate you. I hate you so much, Rocky. You're the bane of my existence."
"No no no! Bad Grace! Grace love Rocky. Grace just stupid," Rocky argues back, his carapace bouncing up and down. There's a chitter of Eridian laughter that follows, letting Grace know that they're falling into their usual hair-pulling routine.
"You- you're a pervert!"
"New word! Amaze!"
"Ragh!" Grace argues so intelligently. In his defense, most of his blood is still in his dick and not his brain. He flops over to his side, curling up. The movement is awkward with Rocky half in his lap and half between his thighs, but eventually Grace ends up laying on his side. His hoodie is still hopelessly covering his crotch as he pouts against the edge of the makeshift futon.
Yes, Grace is pouting and he feels only a slight twinge of shame at the fact.
"Graaaace!" Rocky calls, poking and prodding at Grace's thighs. Grace is determined to ignore him, until the little bugger places a firm claw on his cock through the seat of his pants and Grace makes a new noise akin to a wounded animal.
"Rocky!" He snaps, reaching down to grasp at the Eridian's wrist. "We should talk about this-"
"Mmm. Rocky stop, question?"
Grace hesitated. He doesn't want to stop, but usually this sort of thing is discussed beforehand. Usually he needs to work himself up to the idea of this. A lot of negotiating, like he's signing a contract rather than feeling pleasure. Because he doesn't. Not usually. All of these sensations are so new for him. And he's still reeling from the fact that they're about an alien and not… you know. His one previous romantic partner.
He evidently waits too long to answer, though. Rocky gets impatient and starts massaging him. It's the same way he had started with Grace's chest, easing into firmer pressure against his cock while slowly rubbing up and down.
"Mnh, Rocky-" Grace grunts, breathless as he feels arousal flooding back. He bites the inside of his cheek as he watches the alien groping him. Rocky inches closer to him, shifting to fit against Grace now that his position changed.
Grace whines, still embarrassed but throwing caution to the wind. Rocky seemingly wants this, so does it really matter if Grace is getting off on it? The xenonite glove isn't too bad with the fabric to cushion it between them. Grace suddenly feels like a flustered teenager. Which… he is getting a hand-job from his 'bro' on the same couch that they always have movie nights on, so an apt feeling he supposes.
"Good, Grace. Good good good. Well-behaved human," Rocky coos as his hand starts to pick up the pace. Matching Grace's needy rutting of his hips. Grace trembles at the praise, fingers curling around Rocky's arm where he grasps the xenonite. Whenever Rocky speaks, the vibrations from his sounds rattle the entire suit. Meaning Grace now has the equivalent of a vibrator on his cock.
"Rock- Rocky, oh God-"
"Grace safe," Rocky reassures. Grace makes another whine from the back of his throat as he closes his eyes. He's safe. Rocky's got him, Rocky won't let anything bad happen. Grace has the scar on his arm to prove that Rocky would do anything for him.
Including rubbing his dick, apparently.
Grace bites his lip as the rocking of his hips grows more frantic. The hand not holding Rocky's wrist (does it count as a wrist? Grace isn't certain) rips away the hoodie, allowing Rocky's touch to grow firmer and more precise. It does wonders for Grace's cock and makes the slight vibrations from Rocky's suit more intense. He can feel the sticky heat of pre-cum trapped in his briefs, soaking the fabric and making him feel like even more of a mess.
He's already teetering on the edge. Grace is fairly certain it's been years since he last allowed anyone to touch him and he doubts he had any time for 'fun' during Project Hail Mary. He certainly hasn't bothered to get off since he woke up from the coma.
Oh Lord, his pants are going to be a mess.
That's when Rocky gets the bright idea to go back to his nipples. Of course, the alien with five limbs can keep stroking his cock while plucking at his nipples. Grace moans loudly at the first sensation of Rocky's claws pinching his buds once more. A shocked whine-y lilt escapes him as goosebumps trace down his arms.
"Oh- oh fuuuuck wa- Rocky-" he gasps, shuddering. Despite himself he shifts to allow Rocky easier access. He taps Rocky on one leg, their usual signal to move. Brought about originally from working in a cramped lab together for months on end. Now Grace is using it to lay on his back properly for Rocky, displaying his chest for proper access. Rocky wastes no time in crawling back to his previous position. He doesn't stop his assault on Grace's chest in the interim either. Five legs, right.
"Good, Grace! Pretty pretty pretty!"
Grace doesn't think he's ever been called pretty in his life. Sure, he's been complimented, handsome, sweet, cute, but never pretty. He doesn't think he's pretty. But Rocky's here, able to see through Grace both physically and metaphorically. They're not even of the same species but Rocky thinks his awkward leaky alien form is pretty.
The praise is Grace's undoing. Mixed with having Rocky's undivided attention. His body tenses, toes curling as everything seems to lock up. His back arches and his ears ring. There's a loud, raspy whimper that escapes him as his eyes roll back. Rocky strokes and plays with him through the orgasm as Grace's pants suddenly grow damper and his crotch feels sticky. He's trembling as his body eases from tense to utterly boneless against the mattress.
Grace doesn't remember moaning, but his throat is sore as he comes back to his own body. He grunts, Rocky is still rubbing him. He squirms, weakly batting at the limbs touching him.
"Rocky, please," he whimpers, feeling tears prick in his eyes as his softening dick is suddenly very sensitive. Grace tries to bring his legs up, closing them around the offending limb to try and get Rocky to stop.
Thankfully, Rocky takes the hint. The limbs move from touching Grace's most intimate places to gently patting and rubbing his body. He pants as Rocky guides him back to laying flat. Grace pinned down by his hips as Rocky rubs up and down his sides.
"Leaky! Leaky leaky leaky. Good Grace. Rocky proud, statement."
"Thanks, Rock," Grace huffs. The scratchiness of his voice and the worn out feeling in his throat tells him he was more than likely very loud. Thank God the cameras aren't active anymore. Rocky's impatience seems to wane for the moment, giving Grace the space to catch his breath and come back to himself.
His brain still feels a little mushy around the edges, but the stickiness in his underwear is enough of a motivator to sit up. It's a little awkward with the Labrador-sized spider-alien in his lap, but at least Rocky tries to help him up.
"Grace like, question?"
"Hah, mnh… Grace l-like, statement," he hums, still out of breath and feeling like his mouth is lagging behind his brain. He'll blame it on the endorphin rush later, but Grace leans down to press a shaky kiss to the top of Rocky's carapace. Well, the xenonite covering his carapace.
"Good good good! Rocky want more! Later. When Grace ready again," Rocky chitters, excitement obvious in the little jazz hands he does against Grace's waist.
"More? Dude, I just came in my pants," Grace scoffs, shaking his head. He just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Mostly because shaking his head already made him realize the strange floaty feeling is still clinging to the edges of his brain.
"More more more! Rocky make machine for Grace nipples. Like Earth cows!"
"Earth cows-?! Rocky, no!"
"Rocky, yes!"
Grace can only stare slack jawed as the excited Eridian scuttles out of the dormitory. Grace has more laundry to do and now he has to worry about a possible milking machine in his future. Maybe giving an alien unlimited internet access was a grave mistake.
Grace tries not to think too hard about how much he's looking forward to it all.