Work Text:
Simon was at the end of his fucking rope.
After surviving the SM-13, being picked up by two space nerds was the easiest thing to get acclimated to. One was an amazing rock alien who could repair and rebuild any ship part Simon could hope for, make him a prosthetic arm within the week that he literally dropped into their lives, and was also a really good guy to talk to about his time on the SM-13.
The other was fucking Ryland Grace.
The other human on the ship, but not a human like him. They already agreed that their versions of Mars and Earth were either really coincidentally named or, as Ryland put it: there was probably some weird “wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff” going on. But for whatever reason, Ryland seemed to get this idea in his head that because his universe was so much more “badass” that Simon wouldn’t want anything to do with him.
The fuck?
Simon didn’t get the references the guy made to his home culture, but he wasn’t fucking blind.
Ryland was smart. He was compassionate and fair. When he panicked he was vocal and playful and a comforting kind of frantic that actually was able to “lock the fuck in” when it counted. He was always such a light presence in the room. And he was really fucking hot.
Why the fuck would Simon want nothing to do with him? Why wouldn’t Simon want him?
Well Ryland had a poor estimation of his own value. They were now in the med bay bandaging up Simon for that very reason.
Ryland was supposed to stay on the ship. That was the fishing plan. Ryland was the pilot and the scientist. Simon was the grunt and the expendable one. He had secured the payload and he was figuring the rest out. Rocky wasn’t going to be able to man the controls while Ryland went for space walk to save him. If they hadn’t gotten back to the pilot seat in time, someone else would be banged up and bloodied with Simon right now, or worse, killed, for Simon’s sake.
“Listen, I know you don’t like me, but I’m not just going to let you die,” Ryland was saying as he poured out some iodine onto a cotton ball. “You can glower all you want all day, but I’m not losing another crewmate.”
Simon just sat there, stunned. He hadn’t said a word since cursing Ryland out for coming after him mid-catastrophe. Instead, Ryland just went on and on.
“And look, we’re all ok. You know? I didn’t screw it up royally. I know I’m not some badass spacer, but I know how to do a space walk and you were going to fall.”
He dabbed a stinging cotton ball of iodine on the cut on Simon’s cheek. He winced and Ryland pressed a soft gauze square to it, muttering an instinctive apology.
“If I just stood by and did nothing to help, then I don’t deserve to get this done. I know I’m the scientist, but that doesn’t mean you’re worthless or that I can’t endanger myself. If I’m going to save the world, that includes you now—”
Simon couldn’t take it anymore.
He reached over and pulled Ryland in by the neck, kissing the man quiet. There was that little yelp of surprise, and silence. Simon felt Ryland go slack under him, one hand cupping around his cheek, pinching the bloodied cotton ball out of the way. For that moment, it was fucking bliss.
Simon broke away, cradling Ryland’s face between prosthetics and bandages. He had this dopey look while he figured Simon out through his skewed glasses.
“Oh. Oh!” Ryland looked like Simon had just hit him square in the nose.
"Shit. Is this ok?"
"Um. It wasn't—I mean. A little bit unexpected. But not—"
Ryland leaned in, rushing into a hasty kiss, tongue, teeth, hands. Simon drew back, slowing them down. He coaxed Ryland’s mouth open slowly, indulging in his taste, in his heady exhale.
“Can I fuck you?” Simon blurted. Fuck tact. Fuck waiting around. Ryland almost died.
“What?”
“I want to fuck you.”
"You want to?!"
Why the fuck else would I ask? Simon didn't need to say it for Ryland to catch it.
"Oh Christ. Uh..." He touched his nose to Simon's. “Guide me through it?”
Simon could do that. He pushed Ryland slowly down onto the medbay mattress, running his hands along the strong lines of his forearms, the planes of his stomach. Too much cloth between them.
He guided Ryland’s shirt off, running his flesh hand along his chest and stomach. He cradled Grace’s head in his prosthetic, wishing he could feel those soft, golden layers. Instead he indulged in kiss after kiss, savoring every little enthusiastic hitch and matching Ryland’s own eager responses.
He vaguely felt nervous hands tugging at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting to move it off Simon but too nervous to do so.
Simon paused and smiled down at Ryland. He tugged his collar. “You want this off?”
“C-can you?”
Right. Simon sat back and drew it up, biting down any apology he might have about his scars. Ryland said he didn’t mind them. Simon had to take him at his word.
But when he was done, he was on his knees looking down at an enraptured Ryland. His hands hovered just over Simon’s sides, as if he wasn’t sure—because he wasn’t sure.
“You can touch.”
Simon lightly guided his hands to his skin, shivering under the sensation. He drew Ryland to sit up, kissing along his neck as the scientist explored his arms, his sides, his chest.
“Oh Christmas,” Ryland muttered.
Simon dipped down to kiss along Ryland’s chest and drag his tongue over a nipple. Ryland shivered at that, and Simon was rewarded with a hand burying itself in his hair tugging in just the right way.
He broke off for a second, and deliberately dragged his hand down to Ryland’s growing erection. “I’m going to start touching here, yeah?”
“Yeah. What should…should I?”
“I like your hands on me. Tug my hair when you like something. I want to finger you open.”
Ryland sputtered out some overwhelmed noise. “Jeez, Si. Do you have to be so blunt about it?”
Apparently he did or they wouldn’t be here like this now.
“You said to guide you through.”
Ryland seemed to reconsider whatever argument he was going to make.
“Kiss me,” Simon said.
“What for luck?”
Ryland drew him into a long tangle of kisses that made Simon melt. All his frantic plans cooled just a degree or two while Grace set the tempo. He abandoned Ryland’s cock to hold him at the hips, letting the scientist practically crawl into his lap. Ryland cradled his head in his hands, holding him like something precious as he dipped down again and again. Simon hummed in contentment.
He could stay here for hours, he thought. But some other time. For now, he was feeling Grace’s ass seated on his growing erection and he needed to be inside there.
“Hand me the med gel,” Simon said.
Ryland did without complaint, but he whined when Simon shifted out from under him. “Pants.”
Simon discarded his own, and Ryland fell back in an almost frantic string of muttered clean curses to untangle himself from the rest of his jumpsuit. Simon helped him along, crawling up to kiss up Ryland’s thighs, his stomach. He ran his other hand along the short hairs on his opposite leg, to his hip and the thicker patch of his groin, before honing in on his prize.
He wrapped his hand around Ryland’s cock. Both it and the space nerd jumped at the touch. Ryland keened and tugged at Simon’s hair as a rough palm squeezed up and down his length. Both were so responsive beneath him to even the lightest, teasing pumps.
Simon dipped down and kissed the head. Ryland yelped and fell completely back on the bed now.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he whined.
Simon was too busy tonguing along his foreskin to answer. He kissed down the shaft, and dragged his tongue up the underside back to the head. Fuck Ryland tasted good. He reached his hand down lower, under Ryland’s balls. With one breath, he sank down Ryland’s cock until his nose was buried in public hair and pressed his fingers into that space between Ryland’s legs. That got him screaming.
Sweet, painful tugs to Simon’s hair made him want to bury himself even further into Ryland. Drool dripped out of his relaxed mouth onto Ryland's balls. He moved his hand further back, finally grazing along Ryland’s rim. The cock head spasmed in his throat. He drew back and watched a thick bead of precum dribble down Ryland’s length.
“That’s it,” Simon said. He licked the tip goodbye and sank further down. Gently, he pushed Ryland’s legs up. Ryland curled back, and, following Simon’s instruction, held thighs spread in the air. “Can you hold them there?”
“Well I’ll give it the old college try,” Ryland said weakly.
“Good.”
Simon rubbed the med gel and pressed into Ryland’s rim.
“Si!”
Ryland clenched down hard on him. Simon eased in and out with a single finger, watching Ryland’s face shift from neutral contentment, to pleasure, to pain. He’d adjust at that last one, slowly pushing at his walls and gradually making more space. Ryland took to it like a natural. He relaxed to slow, languid pumps, but it took everything in Simon not to press down on his stomach and piston his fingers in and out of Grace's tight hole to watch him squirm. Soon he could take two fingers then three.
Simon slid in deep then and found the little bump he’d been only just brushing against and pressed.
“Fuck!”
Ryland almost threw himself off the fucking bed. Simon had to pull out to catch him. Ryland was absolutely red with embarrassment and hiding behind his hands.
“You alright?” Simon asked, managing not to laugh, but grinning like crazy. This is what it took to make him curse?
“Yeah. Yeah. I just wasn’t—Fuck Simon, please, I–I don’t want to finish before you’re even…”
“Even?” Simon teased. “Tell me what you were going to say.”
Ryland covered his face again, lying back on the medbay mattress. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Simon asked.
Ryland peaked up. His teeth were digging into his lip as he nodded. Fuck it was a sight.
Simon knelt back and slicked up his cock. He leaned forward over Ryland, his heart pumping louder than an engine in his chest, and his breathing shaking. He kissed along Ryland’s neck to ground himself as the rim of muscle fluttered around his tip.
“Say it,” he whispered unsteadily.
“F…Simon.”
“You told me to guide you.” Simon leaned up for a gentle kiss, savoring the feeling of Ryland’s lips again. “Say the words.”
“Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Simon!” Grace whined. “Please, please fuck me!”
Simon pushed and Ryland’s body gave way beneath him. Fuck he was tight, even with that prep. But when Ryland groaned, it wasn’t in pain. Simon was the one to lose his breath, half-collapsing on Ryland. It was only the fact that he was bracing on a prosthetic arm that didn’t get tired or shocked into pliability that kept him from crushing Ryland. He could feel Ryland pulsing around him, sucking him in.
He hid in Ryland’s chest, licking the salt of his sweat from his skin to soothe. But then there was that tight hand fisted in his hair. With a tug, it drew Simon up to blink dazedly at a suddenly serious Ryland Grace.
“Simon! Move! Now!”
Simon dragged his cock back out and slid home again, and again. The mattress groaned in protest, shaking beneath them, but Simon had his arms locked over Ryland’s shoulders, fingers playing idly with his hair, head bent in his chest as he fucked into him.
“There! Right there!”
Simon's thick cock slid in so fucking well. He grabbed one of Ryland's legs, stretching him wider as he fucked into him.
He kept a steady pace, dragging his hips in and out as Ryland’s toes curled and his legs flexed. The grip on his hair kept tightening and slacking, spurring Simon to go faster, deeper.
Simon reared up, with both of Ryland's legs hooked under his arms and started to slam into him. Each thrust punched strangled moans out of them both.
Then out of fucking nowhere, Ryland just spoke, so composed and matter of fact. “You better come inside me.”
Simon did actually collapse. His dick spasmed and came just like that. He felt his head pulsing inside of a twitching, moaning Ryland. It took the last scraps of his conscious thought to pump Ryland to his own sudden release. Rope after rope of cum spilled on both their stomachs, and Simon fucking reveled in it.
He slid down to lie in the narrow bed with half his body tossed over Ryland’s, catching his breath. Ryland’s loose fingers carded pleasantly through his hair.
“You owe me an apology,” Ryland said.
“What?”
“You said going on that space walk after you was stupid. But if I didn’t, this wouldn’t have happened. So, at the end of the day, it was the right call.”
Simon pressed his face into the mattress, both irritated and laughing. “Shut up.”
Rocky stopped touching up all the parts he was building for the ship repairs that needed to be done within the hour. Finally, his stupid humans were done mating and they could get back to welding this inefficient spaceship back together before the airlocks gave and the ship imploded.
“Grace Simon finish now!” Rocky said, skittering to the nearest alcove he had to the medbay. “No repeats. Rocky has jobs for Grace Simon so we don’t die!”