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Ryland Grace wanted to fuck him.
It was obvious, the guy wasn't exactly subtle about it. All the stammering, the glances, the constant touching? Simon may have not been the most popular guy ever, but he wasn't stupid. He knew attraction when he saw it.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the attention. C'mon, he was only human. Ryland was beautiful.
Once, Rocky asked the two of them if they were attractive by human standards, and the fucker had the gall to call himself average. Average! As if. He was tall and fit, yes, but more importantly he was soft. Soft hands, soft hair, soft blue eyes... Soft lips that made you want to sin, made you want to bite. Even his fucking clothes were soft. In Simon's world, that would have been a decadent luxury only reserved to the elites.
But Ryland wasn't only soft, he was also clever. Frighteningly so. The amount of knowledge stored between those ears was enough to make Simon dizzy. Knowledge was power, it was survival. The COI would have paid ANYTHING to get their claws on the scientist, and twice as much to keep him.
And yet, Ryland never lorded it over Simon. If anything, he was excited to teach, to explain what he knew. Simon only had to ask. And if he didn't know the answer? Ryland would look into it, and then he'd explain what he found. Even if it was something useless. He'd research it. For Simon. Just because he wanted to know.
It took Simon an embarrassing amount of time to realize that Ryland truly saw knowledge the exact same way he saw food: a gift that demanded no payment, but tasted better when shared with others. It wasn't a trap, no strings attached. Ryland was naive, yes, but kind.
It was ridiculous how lovable Simon found the guy, hell, even his clumsiness was endearing. It had been grating at first, but Simon had to admit that it grew on him. It was a bit pathetic to see a grown man flail around and trip on nothing twice a day, yes, sure. But if he'd been graceful (ha!) on top of everything else he had going for him, he would have to have been some kind of angel.
But Ryland Grace was a clumsy motherfucker. Terrible singer. Rambler extraordinaire. Awful temper whenever he got frustrated. Human, imperfect, attainable. Real.
One night, he had confessed to Simon that nobody waited for him back on Earth. An ex-girlfriend he didn't seem to particularly miss, no wife or husband. Were the people on Earth so spoiled for choice that nobody tried to bag that leggy blonde? Crazy shit. Where Simon came from, Ryland would have had to beat suitors away with a stick.
So, all things considered, knowing that a guy like that thought Simon was attractive?
Flattering.
More than flattering, actually. It felt a little like communion wine, a sweet burning on his tongue that curled up deep in his stomach. It made something animal in him purr, made him want to preen and show off. He found himself mentally tallying the times he made Ryland lose his train of thought, just by flexing a little, or stretching so his t-shirt would ride up just enough to show off a sliver of his happy trail.
It was easy. Sometimes, just smiling was enough to make the guy turn red and stammer.
Simon didn't think he was the worst looking guy around, not that he had much competition in the middle of space. He still had nice hair, half a good face, and a strong build. But it shouldn't have been so easy to fluster someone as pretty as Ryland, the scars and freaky mutations should have been a huge turn off. He never seemed to mind them, though.
Now that he thought about it...
Considering how fascinated he'd been with his teeth when they first met, Ryland might actually be into them.
Terrible taste, but if it worked in Simon's favor, he wasn't going to bitch about it. A win's a win. He wasn't too proud to use the tools he had at his disposition.
He wanted Grace to be his, fuck those picky fucks back on Earth! Finders keepers. They could cry about it if they changed their mind, because he wouldn't let go once he got him.
There was just one problem.
Ryland Grace wanted to fuck him and he wasn't doing anything about it.
He blushed and sometimes he stuttered, yeah, but then he'd find some polite excuse to get away from him. He touched his hand, he touched his arm, he touched his back... but the touching always remained light, barely a second and it was over. Absolutely maddening. He'd pile gifts and food and kindness onto Simon but got visibly uncomfortable when he tried to reciprocate.
At first, Simon had assumed Ryland wanted to be pursued instead. He didn't mind. He was used to be the one taking the lead, that was nothing new.
At first, Simon had assumed that, yeah.
But apparently Simon had assumed wrong, because that did fuck all.
He tried to initiate more touches. He was careful to keep everything above the belt because, come on, he wasn't going to grope the guy without a warning, he wasn't that kind of bastard. But no matter how careful he was, Ryland would slide away at the first opportunity. Always with a smile and a perfectly rational excuse.
He tried hanging out shirtless more often, but keeping his posture harness on. He didn't really see the appeal. It was standard uniform when you spent lots of time in 0G, a worker's garment and nothing more. But Ryland liked it and that's what mattered. So tits out he went, getting up in the scientist's space. Did Ryland do anything about it? If you counted "blanking out and leaving to check on the taumoeba breeding tanks", sure.
He had even tried flirting. He was shit at talking, he always said the wrong thing, but for Ryland he'd try. He had lowered his voice the way he knew made him sweat and offered to drench his roots... But Ryland didn't understand this very basic pick-up line, and the whole interaction turned into Simon explaining Eden's culture surrounding hydroponic systems. A conversation which was both deeply unromantic and unsexy.
At least Ryland had been happy to learn about that. He knew so little about Simon's world, anything was new and fascinating.
Oh. Maybe that was the problem.
Simon's attempts at seduction would have been very obvious to anyone from his world. But Ryland wasn't from there. Just like sharing food without expecting to be paid back was unthinkable to Simon at first, maybe his flirting just wasn't landing for Ryland. He could adapt, close the gap in communication.
As much as he fucking hated reading manuals, research on Earth dating culture would be helpful.
It was remarkably easy to get his hands on the materials too. He just had to ask Ryland if he could borrow one of his laptops so he could listen to some podcasts while he worked on improving the Hail Mary's planters. And of course, beautiful, generous Ryland handed one to him and rambled on about how "it could be Simon's if he wanted because there were six laptops, two of them working as Rocky's translator, so that left four laptops, and who in their right mind needed four laptops? Nobody, that's who."
Simon had smiled and thanked him and Ryland had gone red and silent like his brain had just short-circuited.
Well, at least, he could still fluster him.
Research itself proved to be a bit harder. There were a lot of opinions on dating and seduction, and people kept using slang and abbreviations he didn't know. It was a lot of reading, everyone was calling everyone else a weirdo and a moron, and it was either very vague or didn't apply at all. They were stuck on a spaceship, he could not take Ryland to a nice restaurant! Maybe on Erid, if they had anything fit for human consumption... But that would mean he'd have to wait two more years before anything happened! Simon could be patient, sure, but not that patient, not when Ryland fucking Grace kept on looking at him like he was starving.
Forget about forums and reddit threads! Simon had always been more of a visual learner anyway.
So he found porn sites. Eden had... erotic tropes, themes and storylines that came up over and over again. They were always exaggerated for the sake of eroticism, but... Their presence was proof that they appealed to people, right?
Ryland's Earth probably had something like that as well. It was only a matter of finding which ones would appeal to his target specifically. If Ryland wouldn't make a move and panicked when Simon did, the only solution was to make him so fucking horny he would have to get over whatever weird repression he had going on.
Except Simon rapidly learnt that people from Earth were very... creative.
He was pretty sure some of these things couldn't possibly be realistic expectations, they had to be fake. But maybe because they lived on a land of abundance, Earth people had more freedom to explore weird interests? Simon couldn't say he got why some of them were so into humping pool toys, but he couldn't exactly judge them. He himself looked like the spawn of an anglerfish and a meat grinder, and yet Ryland seemed one compliment away from coming in his pants whenever Simon glanced his way. Whatever, it wasn't any of his business if people he'd never met liked plastic.
He was spending too much time with Ryland if he was thinking this deeply about something this fucking stupid.
Simon needed to lock the fuck in. Maybe he didn't know as much as the scientist, or even Rocky, but he was good at problem solving. He just needed to put the pieces together. He could filter the videos by popularity, see what tropes matched with what he knew of Ryland and then try to incorporate them in his attempt at seducing him. If that didn't work, he could try for more niche ideas.
What did he know about Ryland's likes?
1- He liked the harness. Easy enough to incorporate. Check.
2- He was fascinated by Simon's mutated side, the teeth, the scars, the weirdass eye, all of it. Well, those weren't going away, so... Check?
3- He always got a little glassy eyed whenever Simon managed to do something he couldn't do himself, like that time he fixed his electric fan. He would have to figure out a way to make that happen.
4- He liked when Simon asked him to help tie his hair. Simon also liked it. Double check.
5- He stared at Simon's thighs whenever he thought he couldn't tell. Tighter pants? Potential check.
So... Ryland was into dudes who worked with their hands? Simon could do that. He had seen plenty of plumber and electrician themed porn at that point, it's not like the storylines were complicated. The whole monster stuff... Well. Maybe another time.
Simon erased his browsing history and nodded to himself - Ryland had said this laptop was his, but he wanted to preserve the surprise just in case. He had a plan. He'd stick to it.
The hardest part of setting up the whole thing was... well. Timing.
Simon loved Rocky. He really did. He was clever, one hell of an engineer, always ready to teach him things, and hilariously blunt. It was nice to hang out with someone who said what they thought, no filters, no agenda.
But he heard EVERYTHING when he was awake. And if plan "Make Ryland Horny Enough So He Stops Running Away Like A Little Bitch" worked, he would 100% barge in to study "human mating habits" or to complain about the gross wet noises they were making. After careful consideration, Simon had determined he wasn't super into exhibitionism, so he had to work around Rocky's sleeping schedule.
[I sleep. Grace watch, question?] the Eridian asked with a double tap of his leg.
"Sure, bud," Ryland answered with a smile. "I'll just bring my work here."
[Good, good, good.]
Simon waited until they were both settled in, and then he waited some more, just to be sure. Then he made his move.
Ryland looked devastatingly cozy leaning against the xenonite bubble, all wrapped up in his favorite quilt, hair sticking out at random. He was chewing on a marker, frowning at the blank whiteboard like it just insulted his mother. Simon never thought he'd feel like this way about a man ten years older than him but... he was cute.
Simon cleared his throat and Ryland squawked, jumping to the side and flinging his marker in the air in his panic.
"Christmas Eve, Simon!" he panted, and Simon couldn't help but snort.
"You know you can swear, right?"
"I... You're way too good at being quiet, I should put a bell on you!"
I'd probably let him do it, Simon had to admit to himself. Fuck, he was down bad.
Ryland finally turned to him and he froze.
Simon had borrowed one of Ilyukhina's suits. Too tight to be 100% comfortable, but if everything went well, he wouldn't wear it for too long. He had tied the sleeves around his waist to show off his bare chest and posture harness. He felt a bit like a quarter-ration whore, but whatever worked.
"You... uh..." Ryland blinked dumbly, wetting his damn mouth with a flick of his tongue. If Simon could purr, he would. He took a while to decide on the perfect outfit, and seeing that reaction? He picked right. "Did you... uh... need something...?"
"Yeah. Two things. First," he held out a hair tie to Ryland. "I can't get it right, hair gets in my eyes."
"Oh!" The dazed look was gone, but Simon couldn't bring himself to mourn it. The warmth that replaced it was so sweet, he wanted to gorge himself on it. Gluttony was a sin, but he already went to hell, and Ryland was always so eager to take care of him... "Yeah, sure, I can help you."
Simon grunted his thanks and plopped himself between Ryland's legs, back turned to him. Soft hands combed through his hair and he closed his eyes.
Ryland probably didn't know how much trust Simon was showing him now, and he hoped he never would. It'd break the poor guy's heart. He had already cried when Simon explained why he was eating so fast, or why he preferred to sleep back to the wall, facing the door. He didn't need to know what it meant when Simon turned his vulnerable blind spot towards him, eyes closed, throat bared. Just enjoying the gentle fingers against his scalp, the intimacy of safety.
Too soon, Ryland let him go.
"Tadaaa... I think I'm getting better at braids," he said, doing the Eridian jazz hands.
"Thanks." Simon bowed his head to hide his faint smile, and got up.
"What was the second thing?"
"There's a coolant leak, under one of the servers. I can squeeze under, but you know... Only got one arm. So it'll be hard to get back out by myself. Also, I can't really grab the tools I need."
It was all true. It wasn't a huge leak, a drop every week or so, nothing more. It was not an emergency, but it was there and it needed to be fixed sooner rather than later. Simon figured that if plan "Make Ryland Horny" didn't work, at least he'd have fixed this little annoying issue.
"Oh." Ryland frowned, hesitating. "I promised to watch Rocky."
"It's the room next door. You'll hear it if anything happens." If Ryland refused again, he'd let it be. Simon hoped he wouldn't. He already felt a little stupid, dressed up in a woman's suit that was at least a size too small; it'd take a while before he worked the nerves to try again.
"Yeah, you're right," Ryland smiled. It took all of Simon's self control to not cheer. "Just gotta be there when he wakes up."
"Yeah. Won't be long, anyway."
He helped Ryland up, and lead him to the server rack cabinet. He felt the weight of his eyes against his bare skin, following the sway of his brand new braid. His toolbox waited for them. Another one of Ryland's gifts, built out of xenonite by Rocky. He loved the thing.
"This one. Gotta crawl underneath," he explained as he knelt down. He grabbed the flashlight and set it between his teeth, rolled onto his back and pushed himself in the tight space. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Ryland's breath hitch at the flexing of his thighs. Yeah, Ilyukhina's suit had been the right choice. Bless this woman for her small frame.
Once Simon was in place, he fiddled with the lamp to get a good visual on the leak.
"Is... everything okay?" Ryland asked. Was his voice a little choked or was it wish fulfillment? He hoped it was real. The main downside to plan "Make Ryland Horny" was that he couldn't see his face. It was harder to guess if he was pushing boundaries or not, when he could only hear him...
"Yeah. Just checking it out. I think the leak's right between the outer and inner casings. Pass me the screwdriver, the yellow one."
He held out his hand. Metallic shuffling sounds, Ryland was going through his tools. When he set the screwdriver into his hand, Simon allowed his fingers to linger just a second more against his. He still couldn't believe how soft his hands were.
"Good job," he praised as he got started on unscrewing the panel. Another hitch in Ryland's breath. Simon allowed himself one small fist pump. He'd earned it. "Hm... yep, tube's cracked. Probably too old. I'll have to look for a replacement, but for now tape will do. The black roll, please."
He waited for Grace to give it to him, again letting the touch linger a little longer than necessary. Not long enough, never long enough. If he didn't risk scaring him away, he'd grab his hand and never let go...
But he also needed to fix the leak and he only had one hand.
"Thanks," he said. This part of the plan was going to be the most difficult because... Fuck, either it worked and Grace was into it, or it didn't and Simon made himself look ridiculous for nothing.
First he quietly fixed the tube. It was tape, any moron could use it, even with one hand. He just had to use his teeth to cut it instead. Once that was done, he just flexed his thighs and... Well, no better way to describe it: he humped the air.
Ryland let out a squeak and Simon grinned.
"Are... how is it?" Ryland asked and, oh the things Simon would do to see his expression...
"Yeah, it's just... a little hard to reach," he lied, like a liar. He flexed his legs again, punching the metal once to pretend he was still working on something. "But I can fix it."
"Okay." And Ryland's voice sounded more and more like a whimper.
Simon had to stop now or he would ruin Ilyukhina's suit. The fabric pressed against his cock deliciously, and feeling Ryland's eyes on him, staring, was getting him worked up. Uh. Maybe he was into exhibitionism if Ryland was the one watching, actually. Did that count if the audience was only one person?
He'd have time to figure that out later. For now...
"Alright, I think that'll do it," he said as he screwed the panel back in place. "Pull me out?"
"Y-yeah..." Ryland's hands closed against his ankles. He counted to three under his breath, he pulled... And then Simon's chest hit the border of the server rack cabinet.
"Ow, fuck me!" he swore, pain blooming against his ribs.
"Simon! Are you okay?"
"I'll live. What the fuck, what..." Understanding downed on Simon. He had punched the cabinet. It didn't feel like he did it that hard but... Sometimes he forgot his own freakish mutant strength. The metal had shifted. Not much, just a couple of millimeters, but just enough to make escaping a pain in the ass.
Simon hit his head against the floor with a dull thud. He was a moron. He was supposed to pander to Ryland's gaze, show off how nice his muscles looked, how competent he was. Then he'd slide out all suave and say some pipe themed innuendo and hopefully Ryland would pick it up from there. He was NOT supposed to end up in a step-sister-stuck-in-the-washing-machine situation.
"I think the metal shifted a bit," he grit out. "I'll breathe out. You pull again, okay?"
"Ah, crud, yeah. I'll count us to three."
The sexual tension was now dead and gone, but at least it would be something they could laugh about later. Simon knocked his head against the floor once more. And then again, for emphasis. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Ready? One... Two... Three..." Ryland pulled, Simon breathed out... he didn't budge.
He was stuck. Really, really stuck.
Of course, because good things never fucking happened to Simon, his flashlight decided to die on him. He was stuck, in the dark.
"Fuck!" Simon hated the whiny tone his voice was starting to take. It always betrayed him, made him sound pathetic. He didn't want Ryland to see him like this.
"Oof, I don't think I can pull you out like this, you're stuck-stuck..."
"Maybe I wouldn't be if you hadn't-" He cut himself. Old habits died hard, but he couldn't blame Ryland when this entire thing was his idea. He did this to himself, and now he was stuck under a fucking server rack cabinet, the nerdiest possible place to die under. Just fucking kill him, he couldn't take the humiliation.
"Sorry." He choked out. "Not your fault."
"No worries." Ryland's hand on his fist, gently squeezing. Warm. Soft. Safe. Simon let his fingers relax without even thinking about it. "It shifted just a little, right? We'll get you out. I think Armando has some uh... Lube. We can use that."
"Lube."
"Yeah. It should help with the friction..." Ryland's tone was taking the specific intonation it took whenever he was about to go on a tirade. Rocky called it the "Teacher Grace" voice, and Simon wasn't patient enough to listen to his ramblings while he was stuck with only a dead flashlight to help.
"Just go get it, Ryland," he sighed, pulling his hand away to wipe the tears of frustration he could feel pricking at his eyes.
"Okay, I'll be back in just a minute, okay?"
Ryland ran out, bumping against a stool in his rush and leaving Simon alone with his thoughts.
Of course things would turn out like this.
He had tried.
He kept trying.
And it wasn't enough. Simon wasn't enough.
Maybe he misread the signs, actually. Maybe Ryland never even wanted to fuck him, maybe he wasn't running away due to shyness. Maybe he was just grossed out by Simon's advances. Half a good face didn't exactly make him husband material, now, did it? And with the mutations?
Shit, what was he thinking, humping the air like a freak, dressed in a dead woman's clothes... Did he really think that Ryland would find that attractive?
Pathetic.
"I got the lube!"
The man sounded so fucking proud of himself. If Simon hadn't been busy spiraling, he would have laughed.
"Good job." He needed to keep calm. Stay in control. The second Simon was freed, he would go take a shower and have his panic attack in private. Like an adult. Until then, he had to keep breathing evenly.
Nothing happened for a moment. Simon tried to keep quiet, to be good, but getting stuck in the dark wasn't doing great things to his patience.
"You... Are you going to just stand there?" Again, the whiny, desperate tone crept into his voice. He hated it. This wasn't how this was supposed to go!
"No, sorry, just warming my hands first, lube is really unpleasant when it's cold."
Oh. Tears again. Ryland, always so ready to take care of him. To make him feel safe. To protect him even from something as inconsequential as cold hands.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to uh... touch you? I don't think you can do it yourself."
Simon just grunted. The faster this was over, the faster he could get out of Ryland's hair.
"Tell me if you can't breathe."
Before he had time to process that, Ryland was on him. He was sitting on him. Sitting on him, with his long legs on each side of his stomach. Sitting on him, and Simon wasn't wearing a fucking t-shirt so he got to feel every fold of the sinfully soft pair of sweatpants that clung to Ryland's strong thighs.
He was either in Hell or in Heaven. He had suffocated under that cabinet, and this was his eternal punishment, except it couldn't be because Simon was enjoying this way too much for it to count as torment.
He tried to will his dick to go back to sleep. If his whole shameful disaster of a display hadn't made Ryland hate him, feeling his erection poke his ass definitely would. He just needed to breathe, and think unsexy thoughts. It wasn't easy, because what kind of superhuman with Ryland fucking Grace kneeling over them would be able to think about anything else?
Simon almost succeeded.
But then, Ryland's soft hands were on his chest. His soft, lube covered hands.
"Sorry, it's kinda hard to... uh reach, from here?" he apologized, and he scooted backwards, sitting directly on Simon's crotch, so he could lean further, reach easier underneath. "Alright, don't move. I've got you."
His fingers ran across Simon's feverish skin. He felt like he was burning, every slide of Ryland's hands leaving a trail of sparks behind. He had to bite his lips to stop himself from begging. Begging for more, or for it to stop, he wasn't quite sure. This was everything he had hoped for, and nothing like that at all, too much and not enough.
Ryland's nails grazed against his nipples and Simon whimpered.
"I think we're good to g--" Ryland went quiet. His hips shifted a little and Simon let out a choked sob. He was hard as rock, there was no way to hide that now. "Is... Uh..."
Fuck.
At least he couldn't see the disgust in Ryland's eyes. Maybe he would be nice enough to ignore it? He was a good man after all. He wouldn't humiliate Simon.
"... I think we need a little more lube. Just to be sure."
Wait, what?
Ryland's hands were back on him, but the touches weren't light anymore. He was rolling the muscles and fat between his hands, literally kneading his chest, gliding down Simon's stomach, his ribs, anywhere he could reach.
"C'mon, Simon. Breathe." And Simon couldn't see his face, but he could hear his voice and the fucker was grinning.
"Breathe." Ryland repeated, and he pinched at Simon's nipples at the same time as he ground his ass against Simon's cock. He couldn't let out the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips, his hand scrambling for purchase but finding none. "There you go, sweetheart, let me hear you."
The pet name got a moan out of him. He had to be hallucinating, right? Warm hands sliding against his skin, Ryland rocking slowly against his dick, the praise, it was too much, too good. It couldn't possibly be real.
He wanted this to be real.
He wanted it so bad.
His mouth was parched from panting, eyes burning from weeping, his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. It was... not enough. Darkness, cold metal keeping him trapped, he couldn't see Ryland, couldn't touch him back, couldn't kiss him...
"Simon?" He jumped a little at Ryland's voice. Worried. "Shoot. Wait just a second."
He got up and Simon missed the weight of him immediately. Before he had time to whine about it, hands grasped at his hips, fingers digging into his flesh, and they pulled.
Light flooded his sight, a searing white that left him blind for moment. Above him, like a merciful shadow, Grace's face, twisted with concern. Bloody roots, he was pretty.
"Simon? You kinda went quiet there, sweetheart..." He swiped his hands against his t-shirt to get rid of whatever was leftover from the lube, and he reached out. His fingers cradled Simon's face, perfectly cupping his jawline like they were meant to be there. "Did uh... We didn't exactly discuss this but... Are you okay?"
His thumbs brushed under his eyes, wiping away the tears that didn't seem to stop coming. Simon leaned into the touch, taking a shuddering breath. Was he okay? He cleared his throat once, twice, licking his lips, trying to find the right words to explain.
"I..." he started, looking anywhere but at Ryland's eyes. "I didn't want..."
Ryland froze, his expression morphing into one of pure horror. Before he could back away, Simon wrapped his arm around his head and pulled him down into a hug, refusing to let go.
"I wanted... I wanted to. Just..." Simon took a deep breath, taking in the scent of Ryland, a mix of shampoo, soap and clean skin. Not a hint of iron, just soft animal warmth. The smell of safety. Of home. "I just wanted to see you. I don't... I don't want to be alone. I want you."
Again, that plaintive lilt seeping into his voice. Like he was a child begging for his mother, like he could ever deserve pity. Pathetic.
And yet, Ryland didn't scoff at him, didn't break away from his embrace. If anything, he sagged against him a little more, breathing out in relief. His hands went back to Simon's face, tracing the contour of his mouth, the scars, his beard, the jagged teeth jutting out of his side, his eyebrows, anything he could reach. Just to touch, to confirm that he was real, that he was okay.
"Christmas Eve, Simon... You almost gave me a heart attack, I thought I was abusing you," he huffed.
"Stupid." Simon choked out.
"Excuse me?!" He was so offended, Simon couldn't help but bark a laugh. It was such a strange feeling, this bone deep feeling of safety. Of home.
"You heard me." Ryland's hair was so soft, he couldn't help but play with it. To his delight, Ryland closed his eyes and angled his head so he could reach easier. "Been trying to get into your pants for months. I wanted this."
"Oh. So you were hitting on me." He sounded like that was news to him.
"Yeah? What did you think I was doing, small talk?"
"Maybe?! I've never been good at this," Ryland grumbled, making a vague gesture in the air that absolutely did not convey whatever meaning he was trying to convey. "I didn't want to make assumptions and ruin everything."
"What the fuck are you even talking about?" Simon blinked, flabbergasted.
"Well... Before we found you, I was the only human around for a while, right? So I'm kinda rusty with the whole... Being a normal person thing, you know? Not that I was ever very good at that, people always thought I was a bit odd. Do you know how fucking weird you have to be for people to tell it to your face? Very weird! And not only that, but you're not even from this universe! I'm constantly worried that I might offend you somehow, and lose the one human friend I made in years! And if you ever got sick of me and wanted to leave, you wouldn't be able to, which would be horrible for you. And on top of all that mess, you're ridiculously hot, and I don't know how to deal with that because that's not something I usually notice. I look at you and I want to climb under your skin and live between your ribs, what the heck am I supposed to do about all... this? That's freak behavior, I'm being a freak, I'm freaking out..."
Yep, the dam was broken and Ryland was ranting. Simon settled in and waited patiently for him to either be done, or run out of breath, whichever came first. He kept playing with Ryland's hair, just to keep his hands busy as he listened. This was nice. He liked his voice, even like this.
"And, crap, I couldn't be sure you wanted... us... to be a thing! Because, I really really want this, and again, that is not my normal and there's no manual to help me figure it all out, and I know I'm not very good at subtlety or lying or anything like that... So obviously, you knew! You're so very smart, you'd have to be blind and concussed not to pick up on it. And yeah, I thought you were flirting with me, but what if you were only doing it because you knew I wanted that? I'm the only human around, and it's my ship, what if you thought you had to do that to earn your place on the Mary, or to keep me placated--"
"Ryland," Simon cut him off, grabbing his chin to force him to look at him and listen. "When we first met, I was bleeding out and I still wouldn't let you give me even half a Tylenol. What makes you think you could make me do anything I didn't want to do?"
"Uh."
"Yeah, uh." Simon snorted at his dumbfounded expression. Did he forget so easily that Simon was a stubborn bastard? "If I didn't want to fuck you, I just wouldn't."
"So... You want to...?" Ryland squirmed a little, biting at his lower lip. Like he thought the was a chance still that Simon would ever say no, but he really really really hoped he'd say yes.
"Yeah, 'course I fucking do," he deadpanned, pushing Ryland's stupid glasses back on his stupid nose rather than hanging out under his stupid handsome jawline. "I thought that was obvious."
He rolled his hips against Ryland's ass to make his point crystal clear, his cock twitching with renewed interest. Not that it had flagged down much, even during his little melt-down. It was a miracle he'd been able to keep up with any kind of articulate conversation when so much of his blood had been diverted away from his brain for so long.
"Oh." Ryland's smile was blinding, little crow feet blooming at corner of his eyes. "Neat."
Simon brought they mouths together before he had the chance to call his dick "hunky-dory" or whatever nerdy teacher slang he would inevitably think of.
Ryland's kisses were slow, unhurried, experimental. Bit awkward at times, wrong angles and noses bumping. Perfectly imperfect, the way only human contact could be. Simon closed his eyes and opened his mouth, letting him explore, learn the shape of him. He didn't dare move too much himself, worried he might nick him with the nightmare of a bear trap growing on the left side of his face. If pulling those things out had been a viable option, kissing Ryland fucking Grace breathless would have been one hell of a motivator.
He couldn't help himself from running his hand under his stupid "element of surprise" t-shirt. His nails scratched along the soft skin of his belly, earning him a moan and a twitch of Ryland's hips.
"Feels nice..." Simon sighed against Ryland's lips.
"Yeah? Want me to ride you like this, sweetheart?" he asked, hands going back to Simon's harness, pulling at it slightly.
"Yeah. That, I want that. Please" The pet name made his stomach do a weird little swoop, something so fragile Simon didn't even dare to examine it too closely. Ryland using the straps of his harness like a leash to manhandle him, however? That made his cock drool.
Uh.
Maybe he was starting to understand the appeal now.
"If you're asking so nicely..." And once again, the bastard was grinning. Simon couldn't say he really minded. Being an asshole looked good on him. Cockiness seemed more natural than the weird repressed shyness he hid behind before.
Ryland could try to conceal his muscles under stupidly soft little cardigans and gag t-shirts all he wanted, he still was ripped. Nothing made it more obvious than when he was rolling his ass against Simon's crotch, his abs obvious and well defined. Fuck, this was so much better than when he was stuck under the cabinet. He could see everything. Ryland was openly moaning by now, his thighs tensing as he rutted against him, glasses askew, lips reddened by kisses and eyes glossy. He looked sinful.
Simon reached out to Ryland's waist. Not to grab, not to control his rhythm, just... To touch. To confirm he was really there, with him. And Ryland, beautiful, generous, embarrassing Ryland... He let go of one of the straps he had been holding on, weaved their fingers together and brought them to his lips. The kisses on Simon's knuckles were so tender that he felt himself tear up against his will. He felt exposed, all of his raw and vulnerable parts spread out under Ryland's eyes... And yet, for once in his miserable life, he wasn't found wanting. He was looked at like he was valuable. Precious.
"You're so sweet..." Ryland sighed, looking at him from under his lashes. He didn't miss the way Simon's breath hitched at the praise, and he smiled wider, ground harder. "Look at you... Trying so hard to please me, letting me take care of you, making me feel good... You're doing so good, Simon."
Simon's vision went white as he came harder than he ever did before, in his pants, like a fucking teenager. He bit back the keening whine that threatened to escape his mouth out of habit. Eden dormitories weren't soundproofed for shit, it was safer to be quiet.
Once his ears stopped ringing, he turned away from Grace, shame burning through him like acid. What kind of man spilled his seed in his own clothes, just from some dry humping and a couple of compliments? A pathetic one.
"Sorry," he forced himself to choke out.
"Don't. You came from me praising you? That's.. That's so hot." Grace moaned and rocked some more, pulling an overstimulated whimper from Simon's lips. It was difficult to feel ashamed when he had a flushed blonde grinding against his spent dick. "The things I want to do to you... I told you, I don't usually... pay attention to people, not like this... But it's like you were freaking grown in a lab, just for me..."
"You're killing me, Ryland..." Simon grunted, reaching out to paw at his pants. "Let me take care of you too? Can I blow--"
Ryland wasn't hard. At all. He seemed to enjoy himself, and yet... Did he come just from grinding as well? No, he would have known. Ryland never shut the fuck up, there was no way sex would be any different. Simon couldn't imagine him being anything else than a screamer.
"You don't actually like it." And wasn't that one hell of a kick in the balls? He had finally managed to bed Ryland and he had disappointed him immediately.
"What? No I uh... I did." Ryland looked shifty once again. His face was doing that thing it did sometimes, his expressions becoming almost cartoonish in their exaggeration. Like he wanted so desperately for you to buy into his lies that he was forgetting to make them believable.
"What's the point of lying about it?" Simon draped his arm across his face, hiding his bitter humiliation from being witnessed further.
"I'm not lying! It's just..." His voice trailed off and he sighed in frustration. "Fucking hell."
"Language." Simon winced the second the word left his mouth. Joking? He was joking right now? He really couldn't help himself from ruining everything he touched, could he? "I'm sorry."
But Ryland didn't get angry. Instead he let out a short, relieved, snort.
"I'm so bad at this." He got up from Simon's lap. "Alright. Guess we're doing this now. Look at me."
His tone didn't allow him to refuse or argue. Simon lowered his arm and glanced at him, standing above in all of his long-legged glory. He removed his stupid t-shirt and wow, Simon's dick was already making a valiant effort to get up again. A scientist had no business looking like that, sculpturesque torso and soft skin, wide shoulders and kind eyes. The burn scars covering his left arm, neck, and ear formed ribbed patterns that Simon desperately wanted to run his tongue and teeth against. This was the body of a man who had beaten all the odds, pushed through, and survived. A man who had saved the stars.
Once again, Earth people had to be blinder than Eridians, dumber than literal rocks. If Simon had met him before the Hail Mary, you would have had to pry his cold dead hand away from Ryland before sending him to die alone in space.
"I didn't tell you about it because... Well, I didn't know if you'd be okay with it or if it'd be weird and I know I should probably have stopped us anyway before we got to that point. I wasn't exactly thinking with my head, is what I mean," Ryland said as he rubbed his ribs self-consciously, thumb following a set of older scars that ran under his pectorals.
Simon remained silent and still. What the fuck was he talking about? Wait, Ryland was older than him, wasn't he? Maybe he had trouble getting it up, and now Simon had made it worse by having a selfish meltdown over it. Shit.
"No secrets anymore. Okay, here goes." Ryland untied his sweatpants, and pulled them down and his boxers in one single swoop and...
Oh. He had a pussy.
"I'm sorry for not telling you before, okay? I get it if you're mad, or confused. But you gotta understand, I never planned on things escalating this much," Ryland rambled on, face bright red.
His pubes were a little darker than his hair, wet with slick. His clit was engorged and red, a perfect little cock that he bet would feel amazing on his tongue.
"...pretty." Simon wasn't good at words. He kept trying to explain himself, to communicate. But, somehow, he always seemed to say the exact thing that would piss everyone off. This time wasn't the exception.
"Don't...!" Grace stopped himself when he saw Simon flinch and freeze. "... Sorry."
He took a deep breath, and tried again, face burning red.
"Please don't... change the way you treat me. I'm not a woman. On Earth, sometimes people's gender don't match with their bodies and--"
"Ryland." Simon cuts him off. "You think I never seen a guy with a pussy before?"
"You... Did?"
"Yeah. My Brother Cyrus had a cunt. He was also a cunt, but that's unrelated." Simon shrugged.
The old faint scars under Grace's pectorals made sense now, the pieces of the puzzle falling together. Of course Earth would have the technology to shift one's body shape, they had so much of everything, surgeries were probably a hobby over there. Cyrus had just used a thick vest and laced it tight to keep his chest flat, he would have killed to get that kind of medical treatment.
"I thought you'd..." Ryland was looking at him again like he was a wonder. The things this man did to his ego... "You really don't mind?"
"Can I still blow you?"
"Yes...?"
"Then I don't mind. Sit on my face already."
"Oh." Ryland's knees hit the ground on each side of Simon's head so hard that the ex-convict winced in sympathy.
He couldn't complain, though, because Ryland's thighs were silky soft against his face. His pussy smelled amazing, soap and sweat and animal musk that made him want to rub his face into it. Alive, alive, alive. Simon ran his hand on the outside of Ryland's leg, enjoying the goosebumps that rose along the touch. He gave his ass a little squeeze, you know, for luck, which earned him a fond chuckle.
"What a pretty sight," he hummed as his eyes took in Ryland, bare and smiling, spread out just for him.
"Hm... I think the view is better from here." Gentle fingers cupped the fucked up part of his face, caressing the gross teeth, the scars, the red stains. Simon preened at the praise, the attention, the softness. Ryland sounded already out of breath, panting like a beast. It was nice, being with a partner that wanted him so openly.
"Ain't seen nothing yet." Simon opened his mouth and let his tongue roll out. And then some more. And more. Out of all the mutations, that one may be the one he minded the least. As long as he spoke normally, you really couldn't tell his tongue had changed at all. But it did change: it got longer, bumps and ridges on top, fleshy nubs on the side forming a scalloped edge. When it first came up, Ryland had theorized that it was meant to help him eat by maybe rubbing away scales of preys before swallowing them. But he wasn't a zoologist, so that was entirely a shot in the dark. For all they knew it only existed to look off-putting. Since Simon was eating normal human food instead of raw fish, he pretended it wasn't there and, to be completely honest, he kinda forgot about it.
And considering the dazed, glassy eyed look on Ryland's face, he wasn't the only one. He just stared at him, at the fucked up side of his face, his too sharp teeth, the tongue... And damn if he didn't become visibly wetter. Yeah he was really into that freaky shit. Kinda incredible that Simon lucked out like that, anyone else would be running for the hills.
He puffed gently on the delicious looking cunt right in front of him, not quite touching it, at least not yet. He was just letting Ryland see what he was working with. Seeing the wanton expression of want twisting his handsome face was a reward by itself.
"Come on, Simon... I'm dying here."
"Pull my hair if you ever want me to stop," he told him with an eye roll. After a beat, he added: "I don't mind if you fuck my face."
Grace looked wrecked at the sheer suggestion, biting his lip so hard Simon half expected it to split and bleed... But he nodded, placed his hands on Simon's hair, and lowered himself onto his mouth.
Simon hadn't fucked that many people, all things considered, but he was proud of his skills when it came to oral. He had always enjoyed giving head. There was something deeply satisfying about being able to look at his partners' faces, picking up on what they liked or disliked, hearing their pleasured gasps... And Ryland wasn't shy about his voice, whining, begging, moaning his name, all of that while he'd barely been touched. It made him feel downright feral. Simon ate pussy like a starving man, sucking Ryland's clit like it was the last thing he would ever taste. And honestly, he wouldn't be opposed. What a way to go.
"Shit, so good..." Ryland threw his head back and gasped, his fingers combing through Simon's hair, utterly ruining the braid he did earlier. Oh no, how terrible. Simon would have to ask him to redo it later. Pity.
"Can you... Can..." The poor man could barely align two words, brain utterly fried. Simon basked in the sense of achievement for a moment, then reluctantly pulled away to let him catch his breath.
"Yeah? Anything you want," he hummed, kissing the inside of his thighs and nuzzling him.
"Your tongue, I... I want it inside. Please. You're so warm, holy shit..."
"Can do." It'd be an honor, actually.
Simon dove back in and flicked his oddly textured tongue against Ryland's clit once, twice, just to hear him whine some more. He smiled as he felt his fingers clench in his hair in frustration, trying to urge him to get on with it and fuck him already. That was so much better than Ryland piling up gifts and food and knowledge on him, refusing anything in return. If he wanted something, he should just demand it. Simon would provide.
He chuckled and finally gave in, licking into the blonde. Bloody roots, the taste of him almost made Simon's eyes roll back into his skull. He wondered how much of his tongue he could fit inside Ryland, how deep he could go. So he tried, savoring the feel of his slick insides clenching around him.
"It's like I can feel you in my throat...!" Ryland gasped.
It was not enough. He wanted to fill him, reshape his cunt so it would never forget the feel of him. He tried to cram more of his tongue into him, but his teeth were getting in the way, he risked hurting him...
His jaw clicked and he realized that he could just... Unhinge it. Which was fucked up and horrifying but the scream Ryland let out was too fucking erotic for him to give a single fuck about it. Yeah, Ryland was very much into that freak shit, but maybe Simon was too. He was learning a lot about himself today. He was unsure if that was a good thing, however.
But with his creepy jaw opened way past what a normal human normally could, he could get closer, fuck his tongue into Ryland even deeper. He could swallow his entire cunt and cock whole, like a freaky sex snake-- no, nevermind too Eel adjacent, that was a boner killer, not thinking about that anymore.
Point was, he could reach farther, so much that the full length of his tongue didn't all fit inside anymore. Simon wondered if he could... He curled his tongue up. It took some finagling, but he managed to keep part of it pressing against Ryland's cock, the rest licking deep into the slickness of his pussy.
"Holy... Fucking hell, Simon, how are you so good at this..."
Ryland's face was drenched in tears, his voice raw from the onslaught of white hot pleasure so intense it bordered on pain that Simon inflicted upon him.
I could do this all day, Simon mused as he rubbed soothing little circles on his hip with his thumb.
Maybe they could try that. Ryland could... Get to work, pull out some research papers, or whatever it was his genius brain did all day on the Hail Mary to kill time. And Simon could just sit under his desk and nurse on his cute little cock until it was time to go to bed, or until Ryland pulled him away, overstimulated and oversensitive.
Maybe if he did well enough today... Maybe Ryland would want a repeat, and they could try that one? But sharing his little fantasy would mean he'd have to detach his mouth from his cunt, and he'd rather die than stop hearing those punched out moans from Ryland anytime soon.
Later. There would be time to talk about that later.
He gently pulled Ryland forward, encouraging him to rock his hips, to grind against his textured tongue, chase his own pleasure. He had already told him he could fuck his face, but it was no surprise the school teacher was too polite to actually act on it. He cared about Simon's pleasure, his happiness, his fucking autonomy. He didn't want to treat him like a thing. Usually, that was a trait Simon found incredibly lovable about the man. Today, it was driving him a little insane.
Luckily Ryland seemed to finally get the memo and gave in, humping him like he'd die if he ever stopped. He was rolling his hips fast, rushing towards his orgasm with frantic determination. Simon was happy to let him take what he needed, pumping the scalloped edges of his tongue in and out of his soaking wet pussy. The noises were obscene, loud. He could have gotten drunk on that only.
His teeth pressed against the tender flesh of Ryland's mound. He had to be so very careful, it'd be so easy to slip and hurt him, but... Ryland didn't care, trusting and vulnerable, soft everywhere, spread out and offered up to him in sacrifice.
"Simon, Simon, Simon..." His name fell from those lips, like a prayer, and Simon would worship at the altar of Grace every day if it meant he got to hear him say it again. At least, pleasure was a prayer he could answer. He rolled his tongue into him one last time and...
He was right, Ryland was a screamer.
Simon felt his orgasm rip through him like lightning, his silky insides squeezing hard, his hands scratching desperately at his scalp for purchase. His thighs pressed against Simon's face like a vice, the tips of his teeth making tiny beads of blood prick up to the surface. He had never seen anything so beautiful before.
Ryland slumped a little forwards, out of breath and sweaty. Simon licked into him a couple more times under the guise of "cleaning him up". All he earned was a hand pushing him away from the throbbing clit and a displeased groan.
"Too much," he said. He looked utterly fucked out.
Simon pulled his tongue back into his mouth, a little disappointed that he'd have to brush his teeth and get rid of the taste at some point. If he could bottle the thing and have it coat his tongue forever, he'd be happy.
Yeah, no, that one would remain an inner thought. Ryland was definitively not the only freak onboard anymore, but he didn't need to know that.
"Good...?" Simon asked, his throat a little sore from all the intense exercise he has just went through.
"What do you think," Ryland deadpanned, unimpressed.
Simon grinned. He couldn't help the laughter from escaping his lips, light and unguarded. He was... Happy. Simply happy. There was no fear of being found out, no anxiety of being avoided in the future. They would be okay. Nothing had changed between them. They were happy and they were safe and okay and alive.
"Oh." Ryland looked at him with that soft expression he had sometimes when he thought about his life back on Earth. Like he couldn't quite believe that any of this was real. "I like your laugh."
And he kissed Simon again. He kissed him like he did not care whatsoever that he could taste himself on his lips, no disgust, just effortless affection. It was so domestic and intimate, it made Simon want to scream. Or bury himself into it like a cocoon. He was frankly not quite sure at this point.
After a brief sponge bath and a change of clothes, Simon was building them a... nest of sort. It wasn't anything fancy, two thin mattresses with a bunch of quilts, covers, and all the soft things he could find. It was still cozier than trying to fit together on one of the cots. Ryland had tried to help set everything up, but somehow getting railed by a monster tongue within an inch of his life had left his legs too wobbly to do much outside of sitting there, looking pretty. That and his knees hadn't really appreciated the ride either.
Simon was happy to do it anyway, even if it took a bit longer with only one functional arm. He felt useful for once, the animal part of him purring as he arranged the space into something nice for Ryland. The man deserved to be fussed over more. Yes, Rocky was already doing a good job with that, but that didn't mean they couldn't both do it. As a team, they may even manage to get him to go to sleep at a regular time.
Once everything was perfect and Ryland was properly laid down, Simon hesitated. He'd been acting on instinct, but maybe he wasn't supposed to be there? The videos never showed what lovers did, after the cum had cooled and the cameras were gone.
"Simon, I'm cold. Hurry up," Ryland grunted, raising the covers so he could crawl under. Simon did not make him wait any longer.
And it was nice, being the "little spoon" as he had called it. Simon could keep his face towards the door, ready to face any attacker, and Ryland was at his back, happy, warm, safe. He could feel his breath against the nape of his neck, the beat of his heart against his shoulder blades, the twitch of his fingers against his stomach, their legs interlocked. Alive, alive alive.
"So..." Ryland's voice was tender, a hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. "What made you decide to do... All this? The outfit and the... humping, that was on purpose, right?"
Simon snorted, remembering how fucking stupid he'd been. But then again, none of this was within his wheelhouse. Couldn't blame him for messing up when he'd been trying to do things right.
"Yeah... I wasn't thinking with my head either, you know? Got frustrated with you constantly dodging me when you were clearly eye-fucking me every time I moved--"
"I was not eye-f... I was not doing that!" Ryland sounded indignant and Simon barked out a laugh at that.
"Right. Sure you weren't."
"I was... appreciating the view. Taking in the sights." Ryland amended. "You look good."
"Pretty sure you're the only fucker who would ever think that about a mutated cripple, but I'm not complaining. Works for me if you have bad taste."
"Shush. No negative self-talk when we're cuddling."
"That's a rule?" He huffed and Ryland's hand found his under the covers, squeezing it softly.
"Now it is." A kiss behind his ear.
A year ago, he could have never imagined such luxury. Softness and warmth and clean air all around him, food in his belly, clean linens and the smell of Ryland Grace on his pillow. He would never be able to let go of this now, he was utterly addicted. He'd leave claw marks if someone tried to pull him away.
"So, what prompted... all this? Again, I'm pretty happy with how things turned out, but..."
"You kinda inspired it?" Simon confessed. "You weren't doing shit about it when you so clearly wanted it. And when I tried to take the lead instead, you still kept running away."
"I didn't run."
"A'ight, briskly walked away, you insufferable pedant." There was too much fondness in his tone for the insult to have any bite behind it. "So... I did like you always do. Research. Looked into courting traditions on Earth."
"And you settled on... Getting stuck under a machine in skimpy clothing so I would be hypnotized by your breasts and compelled to grope you?" Ryland sounded bemused. "I don't remember that ever being a step in any courting tradition..."
"Not saying the logic was sound." Simon rolled his eyes. "And no, getting stuck was accidental. I just knew it gets you hot and bothered when I fix things around the ship, and you liked my body. I just took inspiration from a couple of videos. I didn't know if it'd work but I had other options to try later... Had a multi-step plan and everything."
"Videos...?"
"Yeah. The erotic ones. Wanted to make sure you'd get the message and wouldn't think I was trying to be your best buddy or whatever." With Ryland behind his back, Simon couldn't tell what face he was making, but... He could almost hear the moment where he finally understood.
"Simon. Did you go on fucking PornHub for dating advice?!" he squawked in horror.
[Grace Simon done mating? Very wet noises. Big disgust, statement.]
Oh, bloody roots.
"R-rocky?!" Ryland choked.
The Eridian's hamster ball rolled into the room, the little guy stomping his feet angrily.
[Rocky patient. Rocky wait, even if Grace break watch sleep promise. Understand because Grace Simon very stressed, need release and mating. But LONG. Rocky tired of being on cuck chair, statement.]
"I'm putting parental controls on both your computers." Ryland groaned as he tried to smother himself with his pillow.