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Physical affection was something Ryland Grace enjoyed, but he had many limits on. He didn’t have sex, he didn’t kiss. He can hold hands, or hug. He can do quality time, and deep conversations.
Still he doesn’t enjoy anything below the belt. Something that everyone else seems to enjoy. His sexual libido is what he calls “broken”. There may have been a nicer word to describe it, but over the years that’s the word Grace decided on.
It was “broken” when he was a teenager and his father complained about him being too buried in the books. Being told his endless ramblings about phenotypes were destroying his chance at getting a prom date. Good news was never his high grades, but whether he’s landed a girlfriend yet.
It was “broken” when he had his first hook-up attempt in college. He tried kissing for no longer than five minutes before asking if they could play Trivia Pursuit instead.
It was “broken” when his ex, Natalie, became the fourth romantic partner to tell him he wasn’t as physically intimate as they wanted him to be, which became a dealbreaker.
It was broken when Stratt told him he had no one in his life. Not even a dog. Therefore he was easily expendable.
It was hard, to get close to Simon. He didn’t show it, always putting on a friendly front for the man’s sake. Still it took him a while to trust another human again. There were a lot of things to fear. At first it was whether Simon was dangerous. Then as they became closer, it was whether Simon would judge him. For being a pitiful excuse for a person- not heroic, nor normal.
All these fears faded away as time went on. Simon’s first impression was rough and intimidating, but it was only a rouse for protection. Once he realized he didn’t need to protect himself, his real self came through. Simon was polite, and sweet. He had the best jokes and made great conversation. They loved doing activities do each other, introducing one another to their own interests. Grace introduced him to board game night. Simon introduced him to Eden sports that he grew up with.
Then they grew closer. Began spending every day together. Taking turns surprising each other with cups of coffee, reading their own literature side by side on the couch. Shoulders pressed together.
Then they began to share a bed. Grace’s bed, to be specific. It wasn’t discussed, it happened slowly. Simon would have a nightmare one night and Grace would have his own the next. They each have their own bedrooms, their own personals. But now every night they sleep together. At times cuddling, but more often untouched. Just dozing off in the company.
Things only got increasingly intimate, and Grace wonders if he should begin to feel dread. Anxiously awaiting for Simon to lay out his expectations. Wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him further. And if Grace says no? How disappointed will he be? How much will their relationship change, knowing he cannot give him that.
He waits for this. It never comes. Simon continues enjoying being around him. He never makes any advances, though it’s obvious that he likes Grace well enough.
Time goes by, and Grace eventually puts this fear of his on the back burner.
Still it stays. Lingering.
-
Grace was about ten feet apart from Simon. They were barefoot in the sand, Grace posed with his hands on his hips. Simon was strengthening his stance.
“You ready?” Grace asks.
Simon nods with confidence. “Yup.”
Last night they watched a classic film from the 80s called ‘Dirty Dancing’. Overall the movie is alright, more nostalgic than anything else. However it includes the iconic dance scene where the girl runs at the guy, he lifts her up and holds her in high the air.
Over breakfast Grace explained how back on Earth this specific move became famous. Then they debated whether the two of them were capable of recreating this. As soon as their meals were finished, they went outside to try.
Now that they’re here, Grace is a bit doubtful.
“You’ll catch me?” He asks.
“Uhuh.”
“Don’t drop me.”
“I won’t,” he raises his arms. “I’ve lifted a lot heavier than you.”
“I’m heavier than I look,” he states.
“Are you coming or not?” He sasses. “I got you.”
Grace takes a preparing breath and runs at him. The moment Simon’s hands grab his waist he leaps off his feet and hopes for the best. Instead Simon’s foot stumbles a moment, and instead he catches Grace on his shoulder. Grace slumps over with a grunt, his top half hung upside down. Simon’s still holding his waist.
Grace squawks and squirms. “Simon!”
“I didn’t drop you!” He cackles. He squats and carefully puts him back on his two feet. “Try again?”
Grace narrows his eyes at him, but walks back to his spot. As he sprints toward him again, Rocky is approaching them. Attached to one of his limbs is his mobile translator, personally made by Grace for Simon’s aid.
He glances at Grace running towards Simon. He observes Simon in a readied stance, arms out towards him. He catches him, lifting him up. He holds the blonde above his head, and Grace tries his hardest to stretch out his limbs.
“IS MATING RITUAL, QUESTION?” He then asks.
“What?!” Grace jolts, and Simon loses his grip for three seconds. He almost drops him, but doesn’t, but that’s enough. “Ack- put me down!”
With a smug grin he puts him down, gentle as ever. As he does Grace babbles his explanation.
“It’s not a mating ritual,” he says. “It’s from this scene in a movie- we were trying to reenact it- it’s a dance!”
“ROCKY UNDERSTAND,” he chirps.
“Is dancing a mating ritual for Eridians?” Simon asks curiously. He seems indifferent to Rocky’s approach.
Grace however feels a bit embarrassed, aware he’s turning pink. He and Simon have never skimmed around this topic. He worries it will lead somewhere awkward.
“YES. WANT SEE?”
“Absolutely,” Simon boasts.
“You don’t want that,” Grace says humorously. “He’s shown it to me before. It’s a ten-minute performance.”
“Well now I have to see it,” he urges.
And that’s how Grace is forced to sit with Simon and watch Rocky’s dance performance. He never has a regular day, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“FINISHED,” Rocky announces after his last wiggle.
Simon applauds, Grace quickly joining him in it.
“Quite impressive,” Simon cheers. “I can see how you won Adrian over.”
“WHAT IS GRACE SIMON MATING RITUAL, QUESTION?”
Grace feels all the color drain out of him at once. Simon only laughs, a hearty one, though Grace wonders if it’s bitter and sarcastic and filled with resentment towards Grace’s lack.
He pulls his knees up to his chest, pulling his beanie over his eyes. His glasses drop to his lap. “We don’t have one.”
Rocky unfortunately is horrifically oblivious to Grace’s mortification. “THEN HOW DO GRACE SIMON MATE?”
“We don’t,” Simon answers from them. “We have no plan to repopulate. Sorry if you wanted to be a grandpa. Or is it uncle? What would you even be?”
“ROCKY WOULD BE MENTOR,” he says proudly.
“Wow,” he leans into Grace’s space, grabbing the edge of his beanie and lifting it up to catch his eye. “Your buddy’s really thought this through.”
He’s so laid back, that Grace starts to feel calm himself. Simon knows they don’t have sex. This has been common knowledge to him. Yet he talks about it with complete ease, more amused by Rocky’s assumptions than Grace’s peculiar behavior.
This convinces him to lift his hat back to his forehead, managing an awkward smile. “You do realize me and Simon can’t biologically procreate right?”
“ERIDIANS CAN FIND WAY IF GRACE SIMON EVER NEED.”
Grace manages to burst out a loud laugh. “No thank you.”
“Can the Eridians find a way to get me a bunny?” As he talks he wraps an arm around Grace’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “I’d love to parent a bunny. Have you seen a bunny before, Rocky?”
“YES. ROCKY LIKE.”
“One of my favorite Earth animals. Would love to meet a real bunny.”
“ROCKY LIKE SHEEP.”
“Sheep are also great!” He encourages.
The conversation moves on casually. Grace, still a bit uneasy, decides he loves Simon even more. He’s yet to make him feel uncomfortable, or self conscious. All of that is Grace’s own doing, all in his head.
Now he’s learned something. Simon has some kind of awareness that they aren’t sexual. But why? What proved that for him? Did it take time for him to settle with this knowledge? Is he still trying to get over it, but putting on a front that it’s okay?
He’s pulled back out of his thoughts when Simon picks up the glasses still in his lap. He tenderly slides them on his face, giving Grace a loving smile, his eyes crinkling.
He grins back and manages to join the conversation again.
-
It’s a special night for them. Though they see each other every day, they have scheduled nights where they do something significant together.
Their inside joke is calling it “GraceSimon Night”, because that’s what Rocky always calls it, with great disdain in his tone because he thinks it isn’t right that there’s something he isn’t invited to. Even though he hasn’t gone a single day without visiting them.
It’s their night. A night away from responsibilities, from ongoingly adjusting to a new planet. They were alone, in one another’s company, enjoying each other’s space.
Tonight is Grace’s turn to make dinner. He manages to unexpectedly end his class earlier than expected, and finishes preparing ahead of schedule. It leaves him sitting around waiting for Simon to get home, aching his arrival, uncomfortably excited.
When he hears the door open, he hops up on his feet with a grin. He approaches Simon, sees his own eyes brighten at the sight of him. He missed him, even moreso when he was sitting around twiddling his thumbs.
He greets him by jumping into his arms. Simon must’ve understood he was missed, wrapping his arms tight around him, lifting him off the floor and giving him a light spin. He puts him back on his feet and pulls away with a smile, his hands resting at his hips.
“Hi,” he says sweetly. “How are you?”
Grace’s knees could just buckle at it. Simon has this way with him that causes him to feel so giddy.
“I’m good,” he answers. “I made dinner.”
“Aw, you shouldn’t have.”
His brows furrow. “It was my turn. Tonight is-“
“GraceSimon night. Yes, I remember. I was trying to be funny.”
“Oh.”
“Lead the way, will you?” He chuckles.
Their dinner is slow with pleasant conversation. By the time their plates are scraped he has Simon giggling hysterically at an old story about the time he threw up on the shoes of his eighth grade teacher while accepting his graduation certificate.
“It was a big crowd!” Grace excuses himself. “I’m no good on stage, I couldn’t handle it.”
“It was that nerve wracking?” He asks amusedly.
“Yes,” he answers. “I also hadn’t ate anything all day. Only drank a can of red bull and two juice boxes. That, and it was truly suffocatingly hot in that auditorium.”
Simon leans back in his chair with laughter. When it fades out, he gives Grace an earnest glance. “Dinner was great. Thank you for that.”
Grace slams both his palms on the table with excitement, making Simon jump. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you. I just remembered I have something for you.”
“Me?” He asks, as if there were anyone else in the room.
“Mhm,” he bounces out of his seat and heads to their refrigerator. He pulls out a large bag of thick liquid.
Simon looks confused. “Oh?”
“It’s home-made ice cream!” He boasts.
“Oh wow!” Simon matches his enthusiasm. “How the hell did you manage to make that?”
“Powdered milk, ice, salt,” he lists. “Thank you Mary. Unfortunately I don’t have sugar, or vanilla extract. So I’m not really sure how good it will taste. But close enough, huh? It’s actually a STEM experiment I used to do with the kids back on Earth. I can teach it to you sometime! The process is called freezing point depression. The mixture of the salt and the ice draws in- what?”
Grace stops his rambling when he notices Simon beaming at him with an overwhelming amount of fondness.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He tries with more confidence. Unfortunately he still sounds flustered.
“I’m just looking at you!” He says defensively. “You’re cute. You made me ice cream. It’s really adorable.”
“I made us ice cream. Don’t think we aren’t sharing this.”
Simon giggles.
They eat their bagged ice cream, Simon being quite impressed while Grace unable to explain to him how it’s not even close. They play several card games and two rounds of Pictionary.
Then they wrap things up in the ‘Don’t Go Crazy’ room.
Grace picks the movie tonight, though he usually does. Simon’s still learning about pop culture, so sometimes when he chooses a movie it’s because he misinterpreted the movie’s premise. Grace picks a movie he thinks they’ll both enjoy, usually rewatches for him that he’s overly excited to introduce to Simon.
Tonight’s choice is Ghost (1990), another Patrick Swayze film, funny enough. It’s a classic that Grace finds generally charming.
That excludes the pottery scene. They rub their hands against one another’s flesh, slathered in wet clay, their mouths mashing and saliva being swapped. A scene meant to be romantic, yet Grace finds it to be an overall sensory overload.
“We should try that sometime,” Simon suggests.
He whips his head at him, unable to hide his disgust. “What.”
“Pottery,” he emphasizes with a giggle. “Just without all the mess.”
“You can’t have pottery without mess,” he retorts.
“Never mind then.”
Grace snickers, his body relaxing.
Then the scene cuts to them in the bedroom. Sloppy kissing, risky hands, clothes stripped down. They know what happens next.
It seems passionate.
Is Grace passionate?
Is he capable of expressing his fervor for someone without the sexual aspect?
For him, tonight is quality time. This is special for him. But his memories wander to his previous partners’ complaints.
In a way, Simon is his partner. Just not like that.
Grace likes exactly how they are.
Maybe that was his problem. Was he too comfortable in his bubble? Was pushing himself viewed as ‘making an effort for once’? That was something an ex had once said to him.
Grace suddenly feels uncomfortable. His memory recalls Rocky asking how they mated. Simon was already so sure that wasn’t for them, despite having no conversation about it. Did Grace do that? Did he create that boundary without having to speak it? Was that fair to Simon, who was never asked what he wanted?
It’s not like he has other options to have human intercourse. In fact because of Grace he has zero options for human intercourse. That must have been hard, right? It was always hard for his partners, enough from them to go elsewhere. There is no elsewhere for Simon.
He feels guilty. He glances at Simon, who is watching the scene with an unreadable expression. He almost wants to apologize. For what, he’s not sure.
As the character was pushed down onto the mattress, Simon absentmindedly lays his head on his shoulder. He snuggles into him, letting out a soft sigh. Grace goes tense at it, but it seems unnoticed. He worries that at any moment, Simon might finally try to make a move on him. The blow finally comes.
Grace waits. He waits for a creeping hand on the thigh, or an urgent kiss to the neck. All the things he should want but doesn’t.
He waits. Nothing comes.
Then Simon’s head grows heavier. It’s the sound of light snoring next that makes Grace realize he’s literally fallen asleep on him.
Grace gets that sickly sweet feeling all over again. Simon always proving him wrong in something.
He nudges him gently. “Psst. Simon.”
“Mm?” He responds, but doesn’t move.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“The movie,” he mumbles, but doesn’t lift his head.
“It’s okay. C’mon.”
Simon is led back to their bedroom, sleepily walking alongside him. Grace keeps an arm around him, happy to carry some of the weight, eager to share the warmth. He helps Simon sit under the covers, puts away his prosthetic for him before he can lay down.
As Grace crawls beneath the blankets his person is already rolled over, back facing him. Just like that, the night is done.
Grace tosses and turns in bed for a long while. Eventually he can’t close his eyes anymore, dreadfully staring at the ceiling, and he has to ask.
“Simon?” He calls quietly.
“Hmm?” He responds immediately, though with his drowsy tone Grace knows he was close to sleeping, had he not interrupted.
He feels a bit guilty now, but he asks. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“Mhm,” he hums.
Grace needs more. “Do you… do you like doing those things with me? Is there anything else you want to do?”
He hears Simon shuffle then. He opens his eyes, and he’s facing him now. Even in the darkness he can notice the concentration in his brow.
“Is there something else you want to do?” He asks calmly.
“No. I was asking you.”
“No, Ry,” he chuckles fondly. “I’ve lived in a windowless prison cell. It’s going to be very hard for you to bore me. I could honestly just sit and listen to you spend hours talking about your favorite earth minerals.”
Grace is saddened whenever he’s reminded of Simon’s past. Still feels better hearing what was overall said. “Okay.”
“I like spending time with you.”
He starts to smile. “I like spending time with you too.”
“Would you like to be close?” Simon asks hushed. “I can come over there.”
He nods before realizing he might not be seen. “I’d like that.”
As Simon scoots over, Grace rolls over for him. He presses up against Grace’s back, wrapping his arm around his torso. He snuggles his face against his shoulder blade, letting out a long sigh of relief. Grace rests his hands on his arm, feeling his body already start to relax. He still feels a bit stressed, however Simon’s hold is enough that he can eventually drift to sleep.
-
Grace has been bombarded with self pity as of lately. Despite Simon showing no signs of resentment, no cues of wanting something more. Grace still worries. Because it’s more normal for a partner to expect something than not. That’s how it’s always been.
His mind keeps focusing on why he was sent on this mission in the first place. No family. No significant other. No children.
He was surrounded by friends, peers, colleagues, and at the end of the day that all meant nothing.
Surely Simon expects more than this simple life. Surely he’ll grow sick of it, begin wanting something much more than Grace could ever give.
These feelings have been throwing him off lately. Enough that Simon’s noticed something is wrong. Grace will be deep in thought when suddenly a hand is on his back, Simon wearing a sympathetic expression, asking if he’s doing okay. Grace always dismisses it and says he’s fine, because he isn’t sure how to approach the conversation. He’s afraid to approach the conversation.
Yet life goes on. They still have their schedules, still have dinner together, share the bed, hug and laugh, and so on.
They like long walks on the beach.
Grace finds this ironic and amusing in a way Simon doesn’t quite get. Tonight he leads the way, Simon holding his hand and walking behind him.
“We should stay up late tonight,” Simon suggests.
Grace glances over his shoulder back at him, only to see he’s gazing up at the dome’s stars. Grace tilts his own head back, watching what he sees. “And do what?”
“I dunno. Spend more time together,” Simon says. “Only if you’re in the mood. It’s okay if you’re tired.”
Only if you’re in the mood.
His heart begins to thud against his chest. Was that a suggestion? An expectation? Grace didn’t want to lose him. What if normalcy was the only way to stay in company?
He stops walking then, twisting around to face him. Simon looks surprised, moreso when Grace puts his hands on his shoulders.
Simon puts a steady hand on his waist, his eyebrows raised curiously. “Hi.”
Grace takes a sharp breath and leans in, pushing his lips against Simon’s. Wherever this goes, he can handle it. After everything he’s been through, all that he’s survived, he can handle this discomfort. He’ll do it in order to keep Simon around.
Simon immediately jerks his head back, breaking the kiss. “Woah. What are you doing?”
“Uh. Kissing you?” He tries, thrown off guard by the reaction.
“Why?”
“Do you not,” he trails off, trying to scan his reaction. Simon looks confused, concerned. “Do you not want to?”
“Not if you aren’t comfortable with that,” He states simply.
Grace feels terribly bare. Everyone can see him for the oddity that he is.
“Who says I’m not comfortable with this?” He tries defensively, why he isn’t sure.
Simon gives him a smile, one twisted with sympathy. “Grace, you realize I know, right?”
Grace blinks a few times, feeling the shame creep up on him. He grips Simon’s shoulders a little tighter. “I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t want to,” he says gently. “I know you never will.”
And it begins.
All over again, he’s exposed and left behind. Seen as something repulsive and strange, something meant to be all alone. An expendable life.
He begins to tear up, stammering at every word. “I’m so sorry. I want to make you happy but I- I’m unable do it that way. I don’t know why I’m like this.”
“I am happy, Ryland, I promise,” he lifts his hand to squeeze Grace’s hand. “You make me happy.”
“Even though I never kiss you?” He urges. “Even if I never- if I’ll never satisfy you?”
“I don’t need that.”
“But you want that.”
He shrugs. “Ehh-“
He doesn’t exactly answer, which sets Grace off further. “I can do it. Let me try. I can try-“
“What? No,” he shakes his head, seemingly baffled at the suggestion. “That’s not at all necessary.”
“You deserve someone who isn’t like this. To be with someone who isn’t broken-“
“Broken?- okay,” he grabs Grace’s jaw. “Stop. Look at me. Look at me and listen.”
Grace is already crying by now, tears streaking down a flushed face. His glasses are slightly fogged from the heat of it, or maybe the blur is from his tears. He shuts his mouth, waiting anxiously.
“You aren’t broken,” he says firmly. “You don’t need fixing. Do I experience sexual attraction? Yeah, I do. But please, please believe me, when I tell you I am okay. I love you. I love being with you. You are a brilliant, adorable, phenomenal person. And your company alone is a thousand times better than any French kiss or handjob. I just want you.”
Grace is laughing a bit, most of it from relief. “You have such a way with words.”
Simon laughs too, looking at him fondly. “C’mere.”
He pulls him into an embrace. Grace holds him tight, nose buried in his shoulder with a shaky inhale, taking everything in. It feels as if a unbearable weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
Suddenly Simon pulls out of the hug, pointing at him in a scolding manner. “If you ever offer to do things you don’t wanna do again, I’m telling Rocky.”
He rolls his eyes affectionately. “Yeah. Okay.”
He takes Grace’s hand, pulling him along as he takes his first slow steps. “Come home with me.”
Simon seriously wants him just as he is. He’s content. Grace feels like crying all over again, but he doesn’t, instead lets Simon take him across the beach and back to their home.
“Our relationship isn’t strange to you?” He still finds himself asking as they make their way up the path. He wonders if perhaps they should classify a label, whether Simon had a specific title in mind.
“Of course it’s strange,” is all he retorts. “We’re strange. Our lives are strange.”
Grace smiles to himself, a skip in his step as they make it to the front door.
‘Strange’ it is.