Chapter Text
Grace did think about it. He found it difficult to think about anything else for the rest of the day, which just resulted in a headache and an early bedtime. Rocky might think just talking about feelings and relationships and… physicality should be simple, but Grace knew it wasn’t. He’d experienced it, and it was not simple. Or fun. Or guaranteed to have an amicable outcome. So he did what he did best. Run away and throw himself into a project. Well, he couldn’t actually run away. Not physically. He lived with Simon, and Rocky visited every day. But he could focus on getting the greenhouse set up.
To his credit, Rocky did not intervene. Though he did stand and tilt his carapace at Grace pointedly on multiple occasions. The message was clear. ‘Grace *crude musical chords* dumb’.
More accurately, it should be given to Adrian’s credit that Rocky did not intervene. The two discussed the situation extensively at home, meaning Rocky complained incessantly of his friend’s stupidity, and Adrian reminded Rocky of times in the past he had inserted himself into situations which were not his business and not gotten the desired outcome. So Rocky kept out of it, beyond occasionally pointing out to Grace when Simon did something especially ‘mate-like’ in his view, like remind him to stop and eat instead of poking at dirt samples for six hours straight. (“Rocky do this frequently for Adrian; Grace DUMB”).
Grace tried at first to redirect Rocky’s focus, which had never worked in all the years he’d known him, so he finally settled for just saying “Look, I’m working on the greenhouse for him! I’ll talk to him once it’s finished!”. A tactical error, as the Eridian team was efficient as always and the roof was finished being remodeled just a week later. “...There’s no plants in it! It’s not finished!” Grace protested. Rocky sang Grace another choice string of notes before heading home that night.
Now Grace stood in the bathroom, aggressively brushing his teeth. He should never have talked to Rocky about his feelings, he was never going to hear the end of it. Rocky was like a dog with a bone once he latched onto something. You might even think he’d moved on, then ‘wham’. Grace spat into the sink and stood, staring at himself tiredly. He pushed a hand back through his hair. It was getting long again. He should try to cut it soon. Not a problem for tonight though. He turned and stepped onto the scale. Karat had him weighing daily til he reached a ‘satisfactory’ minimum weight. Grace stared down. He hadn’t met it yet, not even close, but he realized he was up ten pounds from when they’d moved into the biodome a couple weeks ago. He did jazz hands quietly to himself, smiling despite his generally low mood. He flipped the light off and walked into the bedroom.
--
Simon pulled on a nightshirt (really just a somewhat more faded tshirt than the one he’d been wearing during the day) and sat down stiffly on the edge of the bed. He did his best not to show it, and the pain medication helped of course, but as his amputated arm continued to heal and he decreased his pill intake (they only had so much) he had become more and more aware of his body trying to compensate for the loss, muscles balancing in new ways and working harder than they’d had to in the past. And now there was Erid’s heavy gravity to contend with. There were good days and bad. Tonight was bad. He’d probably overdone it helping with construction, but he hadn’t been able to keep still. Ever since Grace had suggested turning the unfurnished room into a ‘greenhouse’ (Simon had looked up pictures and then spent an afternoon admiring them like a mother admiring her newborn), he hadn’t been able to keep still. If he hadn’t already realized he was in love with Grace, he was pretty sure listening to Grace describe his idea a week ago would have done it. Grace had thrown himself into making plans and directing the biodome team, and Simon wanted to touch every piece as it went into place.
Grace walked into the bedroom and stopped halfway across the floor, smiling in obvious sympathy. “Told you to let the Eridians handle the ceiling tiles,” he said in a good natured reprimand.
Simon just shook his head. “It’s fine. I wanted to help.”
“I know,” Grace said with a huff of amusement. He didn’t have the high ground to tell Simon not to overdo it. They were each as bad as the other. Grace sat down and spun around on the bed, crossing his legs. “Let me.”
Simon lowered his hand with a questioning glance, then looked at his knees as Grace started rubbing his back and shoulders. Fuck that felt good. “...Thanks.”
“Thank you for getting the shelves set up,” Grace responded. He’d had a notion of wanting to make the greenhouse a surprise, but had very quickly realized that would be impossible with Simon living in the house. And getting to see Simon excitedly working on it was worth the loss of it being a surprise, Grace had decided. It was so refreshing to see Simon working on something that wasn’t just ‘keeping Grace alive’ again, though he obviously still watched Grace like a hawk. Grace got the urge to just lean forward and hug Simon, he was just so grateful and relieved to be where they were, working on a silly little home improvement project together. But he didn’t do it. Grace’s expression shifted and his hands stilled, throat tight. Rocky was right about one thing, after all. He wasn’t completely happy. He wanted… he wanted to tell Simon how he felt. He wanted to be able to just say ‘I love you!’ without having to think twice about it. It was dumb. They already held hands and hugged and… pretty much everything Grace had ever wanted. Except to say it. To know that Simon felt the same. He resumed the massage when Simon made a questioning sound and started to shift away. “Hold still, I’m not done,” Grace mumbled, not wanting Simon to look at him just now. He was so afraid. Of Simon stopping the hand holding and hugging if Grace said how he felt. Of Simon wanting more than he was comfortable giving. Of making one of the two most important relationships to him on--literally--the whole planet uncomfortable. Was that even avoidable at this point? If Rocky was right about all of Simon’s ‘mate-like’ behaviors, would Simon just bring it up eventually himself? What would Grace do, then? He was already making things awkward all on his own, now suddenly feeling self conscious about hugging Simon. It was Simon, for Pete’s sake! They hugged all the time! It wasn’t awkward! Hadn’t been awkward. Not until Ryland Grace made it awkward.
“You’re good at this,” Simon said quietly, eyes closed. One massage wasn’t going to fix anything per se, but right now he wanted to melt under Grace’s hands.
Grace smiled tightly. “Thanks.” He closed his eyes, taking a breath to steady himself. How did a person bring up that he’d gotten good at giving massages because… because after nearly two years with his girlfriend, he’d finally realized he didn’t actually enjoy sleeping with her? That he’d thought and hoped that they would be fine without that if he was just affectionate in other ways? That he’d been too immature and focused on his doctorate to have a clear conversation with her about it, and so instead they’d slowly fallen apart over eight miserable months. He was still too darned afraid to have a straight forward conversation about it, even now. He knew that was partly because of how badly things had gone last time, but knowing was only half the battle. So he held his tongue, hoping Simon would somehow just intuit what he wanted him to know. Stupid. Coward. Some things never changed. Grace continued the massage in silence for probably ten minutes, until he couldn’t contain a long sigh that turned into a yawn despite his swirling thoughts.
Simon glanced at the clock and realized how late it was. “Sorry. I’m keeping you up,” he said, turning and pulling off his glasses, clearly moving to actually get into bed.
Grace gave him a weak smile. “S’fine. I appreciate everything you’re doing.”
Simon returned the smile. “Greenhouse was your idea. Don’t know if we’ll get any plants but… I’m grateful we’re even trying,” he said with a nod. He’d almost been sick to his stomach a few times over the past week, he was so hopeful they would get some living plants. He tried to temper his expectations by verbalizing that they might not. He hadn’t seen any in the future. But he’d only seen a few precious moments of that place. This place. No matter what though, it felt good to be working towards something together. Living together.
Grace forced a bigger smile, raising a hand and wiping at his eyes, keeping his face turned away from Simon. “Fingers crossed. Let’s sleep,” he said, reaching over to hit the light before shimmying under the blankets. He curled up on his side, staring into the darkness.
Simon looked at Grace’s back, wondering if Grace wasn’t feeling well. He was… just a little off tonight. “Stomach okay?” he asked.
“Hmm? Yeah,” Grace answered. It was fine, at least fine in the way Simon was asking. He felt sick, but that was in his head, not because of anything physically wrong.
Simon accepted this. It had been a busy week. He’d have to make sure Grace relaxed a bit tomorrow. They should be able to, with the roofing done. He shifted around to get settled, scooting up close against Grace’s back and tucking his arm over Grace’s side as usual.
A silent minute passed, then Grace blinked and raised his head abruptly. “Hey! You shouldn’t be sleeping on that side! No wonder you’re sore!” he pushed himself up on his elbows. Why hadn’t he realized sooner that Simon was sleeping on his injured side? He had been for--since they’d moved in, at least. Simon hadn’t complained, but that didn’t make Grace feel better.
Simon opened one eye, looking up at Grace. He grunted in compliance, turning onto his back, tugging Grace from his elbows down onto his chest.
Grace made a face. “Now I’m on your arm, dude! I know I’m a lightweight right now but still think it’s a bad idea.”
“Switch sides, then,” Simon said. However they ended up sleeping, he wanted to be able to feel Grace’s breathing. He wasn’t sure how well he’d sleep without it at this point.
Grace opened his mouth to object. He should just scoot away, but he didn’t want to sleep any further apart than they had been, either. He pushed himself up and walked around the end of the bed to Simon’s right side, yanking up the covers and crawling back in, pretending he wasn’t aware of Simon flopping his arm over under the space Grace had to occupy if he wanted to actually fit into the bed on this side. Grace scooted close, turning halfway onto his stomach to avoid laying all his weight on Simon’s ‘good’ arm. They’d gain nothing by having him cut off the circulation to that one. He ended up with his cheek resting on Simon’s chest. “Good?”
“Yeah,” Simon said with a sigh, curling his arm behind Grace’s shoulders and shifting him just slightly so he could still get his hand onto his ribcage. “You?”
Grace swallowed. He was not good. He was fudging… fucked. “Yeah,” he said very quietly, throat nearly sticking shut.
Simon squeezed Grace’s side lightly. “Kay. Good night, Grace.”
Grace shifted his arm up, squeezing Simon’s side in return. “Good night, Simon,” he whispered and closed his eyes, holding himself together as best he could.
--
Simon turned his head. Something was wrong. He rolled onto his side, pulling his arm in towards himself; it caught nothing but air. He sat up in alarm, then paused. He was fine, he was in the house. Grace wasn’t next to him. He was probably just in the bathroom or--Simon relaxed as his eyes fell on a dark shape that was sitting with its knees pulled up to its chin near the end of the bed. Grace was here, he was… fine? Or maybe sick. Simon sat up, trying to blink himself fully awake. “Was’sup?”
Grace was silent a minute before responding. “Hey. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he said. He sounded like shit. What time was it? Simon glanced at the clock. Nearly three in the morning.
Simon scooted down the bed, putting his arm around Grace’s back. “Don’t worry about it. What’s wrong? You need anything?”
Grace looked up, breathing very intentionally for a beat before wiping at his face and awkwardly shrugging out from under Simon’s arm. “No, no I’m… uh, sorry. I really suck at--this. Talking. Explaining. Despite the fact it was literally my job and I never shut the hell up,” he laughed humorlessly. Simon frowned in confusion. “....Sorry for swearing,” Grace mumbled.
Simon scoffed. “I don’t care. Swear all you fuckin’ want. But what’s wrong?” Simon asked, reaching for Grace’s arm instead.
Grace swallowed, taking Simon’s hand in both of his and squeezing it hard. “I uh, need to tell you something. Not… uh, sure how to bring it up so…”
Simon tilted his head, worried. He was absolutely fully awake now. “I’m listening.”
Grace nodded. “Okay. I uh, want to apologize. Not sure… I don’t know what we’re doing but I think I maybe have kinda led you on. Didn’t mean to just… never been the best at reading people. Or myself, sometimes. Spacey, ya know? But think I messed up and I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Simon made a face, confused. “You’re not hurting me.”
Grace shrugged his whole upper body. “Well good! Cause I don’t want to and I--crimanila--I’m sorry. Let me just… say what I need to say and then you can decide if you’re upset or not, okay?” Simon continued giving Grace a look, but let him go on. “...I really, really like you.” Grace paused. “I love you,” he laughed tightly. “And I wanna be able to say that!” he gestured wildly. “But I don’t wanna disappoint you… because I like--how we are. I like it when you hug me, and I like holding hands, and I like having you here and sleeping with me. Friggin’ love that. But just… that’s it for me, you know? That’s enough. I’m good. I don’t wanna do anything more than that. Like, the physical stuff.” Grace looked across the room into the darkness of the rest of the house. “...I know that’s not enough for everybody.”
Simon blinked. Stared. Was that--had he heard that right? Was he awake? Pay attention to how things feel. He could feel a dull ache in his back from sitting hunched forward like this. He could feel the tremor in Grace’s hand. He could feel the sheet waded up under his thigh. Simon pulled his hand free and scooted forward, wrapping his arm around Grace and pulling him into his shoulder. “Please say it,” he begged softly.
Grace raised his hands, half ready to push Simon away, then froze guiltily and relaxed. “Huh?”
“You said--you said you love me, right? Please say it again,” Simon said quietly, squeezing Grace’s back desperately. No one said that to him. Not any more. Not in years.
Grace opened his mouth, hesitating. “I love you?” he said tentatively. Simon just tightened his grip into a crushing hug, bringing one leg up into it. Grace returned the embrace nervously. “I love you,” he repeated experimentally.
Simon was shaking, he couldn’t stop it and barely noticed it. “Please...”
Grace closed his eyes and moved one hand up to rub Simon’s back, mind racing. “I love you.”
Simon pressed his face into Grace’s neck, crying wordlessly. He felt almost nauseous, he was lightheaded. Was he really hearing this? This was real? After--everything. He--they--were really here? They’d made it. This was really happening.
Grace continued rubbing Simon’s back in little circles, swallowing and realizing belatedly he was crying too. Frickin’ heck what a mess. “You--you okay?”
Simon nodded emphatically without letting go of Grace at all. He was better than he’d been in fucking years.
“...You’re not mad?” Grace asked. Nothing about Simon’s reaction seemed to say he was, but Grace was having trouble reconciling Simon’s reaction with his own expectations.
Simon laughed, the sound ugly. “Why in the hell would I be mad?”
“The uh, ‘I don’t really wanna have sex,’ part?” Grace asked, voice straining.
“I don’t give a fuck about that!” Simon almost shouted, sitting upright again. “You think I give a fuck about that!? I’ve spent my whole life thinking I was gonna die tomorrow and now you’re telling me you love me and you think I--I don’t care! I love you! I love you and how smart you are, and--and funny, and kind and just--that you actually live every fuckin’ day. You saved my life! You are literally doing something to make things better or brighter--every day! I love you!” Simon blurted out. Grace stared at him in dumbfounded silence for a full thirty seconds before burying his face in his hands. Simon leaned forward again, pulling Grace back into a desperate hug. “I love you. Please say it every day,” Simon said more gently. Grace made a choked sound, shaking in Simon’s arms. Simon frowned before realizing Grace wasn’t crying. Or at least, not only crying. He was laughing.
Grace raised his head, shifting around onto his knees so he could get both his arms around Simon’s back. “I love you! I fudging love you!”
Simon snorted, Grace’s laugh was contagious. “I fucking love you!” He squeezed Grace again, smiling over his shoulder. “… or--you know, not. Not the fucking part,” he corrected after a beat. Grace laughed harder for a moment before breaking into actual sobs. Simon shifted his arm down, rubbing Grace’s back. “Uhm. Sorry,” he mumbled.
Grace shook his head, trying to get his breathing under control. “...No, that was good. That was funny,” he croaked, patting Simon’s back. He took a minute to just breathe. “You really okay with us just… like this?” he asked eventually.
Simon nodded. “Yeah. Never… really cared about that? Kinda found it off putting, honestly. I mean if you’d wanted to I would try it but…”
Grace laughed once, shortly. “I’m good. Have tried it, and uh, didn’t like it much. Thought when I was a teenager it was cause I was a teenager and just didn’t know what I was doing, you know? Then in college thought it just sorta sucked cause I was high on a bad trip or whatever and then… finally realized I just didn’t like it. Little slow on learning that lesson.”
Simon tilted his head, trying to relieve the strain on his back. “...I’ll take your word for it then.”
Grace shifted his arms. He was overheated from stressing out and crying, he realized. Been a while since he felt hot. That was novel. He glanced at the clock as it blinked softly in the darkness with the number change. “...Sorry I ruined the sleeping schedule. Could’ve had this conversation in the morning. Or like, any other time besides the middle of the night.”
Simon smiled slightly. “Get woken up in the middle of the night for you to tell me you love me?” Simon scoffed. “Wake me up every night.”
Grace laughed shortly again. “You might regret those words after a few days. Tell you first thing in the morning?”
“...Promise?” Simon asked softly.
Grace swallowed and nodded, squeezing Simon’s back again. “Promise. Every day.”