CalmTurquoise

After we’d reached Erid, there had been a few years of me living in the Hail Mary at the top of the space elevator. While Rocky went down to Erid to sort out bureaucratic things and the Eridians worked on synthesizing food and a biodome for me, I stayed with Armando and tried not to die.

It wasn’t easy. I had been subsisting on Taumoeba and coma slurry (and eventually just Taumoeba when the coma slurry ran out). I had every sickness imaginable (scurvy, anemia, beri beri, you name it). And I dropped at least 40 lbs. Maybe even 50 or 60. I stopped measuring after a while—too demoralizing.

About a year ago, they finished building my biodome and I’d moved in. They also had created food for me that provided all of the necessary nutrients. For a while it was just like the coma slurry, which they adapted a few flavors of to make it taste better. But about 8 months ago they figured out meburgers. Pretty awesome stuff.

I’ve been steadily gaining back my weight and my strength, and I’m no longer sick with everything anymore. But Rocky has been concerned about my weight gain—I can tell. Which brings me to the point: he’s not subtle at all.

On the Hail Mary, Rocky had built a xenonite skin-tight suit out of the last dregs of his xenonite supply. Once he did that, it wasn’t long before he discovered how ticklish I am. I’d explained to him what tickling is and it became part of our routine. He’d tickle me every few weeks or so to get me to admit something, to get me to go to sleep, to mess with me, to get me to stop annoying him…the list goes on. I even figured out how to tickle Eridians (rougher scrubbing on sensitive spots like joints, vents, etc. if you’ve got an Eridian of your own to torment), leading to some pretty epic tickle fights to pass the time. It stopped as I got weaker as we approached Erid, but he’d still tickle me gently when I was struggling to sleep. However frequently he used to do it, it’s nothing compared to the way he does it now.

Now it’s like every week. Actually, it’s exactly once a week. On the same day of the week. At the same time. So, not subtle. Only issue is, I still haven’t figured out why he’s doing it. 

I’ve got a hypothesis though.

Recently he’s been nagging me to weigh myself. I haven’t done that since the early days on our journey when I’d first switched to Taumoeba after running out of coma slurry. At the time I’d been worried about my nutrition, before I realized it was hopeless and I was going for surviving, not thriving. I keep saying no because it’s complicated in the biodome—weird simulated gravity and the lack of a proper scale. And also I’m a little scared to see the number—I can definitely see and feel how much my body has changed, progress aside. 

So he’s been checking up on me in other ways. Weekly “appointments” to assess my weight gain by ti—

I stop typing mid-sentence as Rocky knocks (bangs) on my door. I get up, pausing to steady myself as a wave of dizziness hits me, and go to open the door. 

“Grace! Took so long to answer door,” Rocky complains. 

“Hey, Rock,” I say. I step aside to let him in, rolling my eyes and closing the door when he chirps at me to do so. 

“Okay, Mom,” I grumble as we settle on the couch. I flick on the TV I’d built from various screens from the Hail Mary. We’ve taken to idly watching Earth TV while hanging out as background noise. I’ve been too tired recently to go for walks. 

“Rude,” Rocky grumbles, poking me in the stomach. I recoil from the poke. Here we go again. I check my watch. Yep, it’s 4pm on a Tuesday. Predictable. 

“Rock,” I grumble. My voice is a bit whiny. 

“Yes, Grace?” Rocky says cheekily, clawing up my ribs. I squirm in place, letting out a few stifled chuckles. I feel him pause for half a second at each rib, feeling it slightly. Yeah, I think my hypothesis is correct. 

“Wh- whahaha- why are you dohohoing this?”

He stops. “Is funny,” he replies. 

I catch my breath. “Nope. You’re not telling me the full truth.”

Rocky does that shifty thing he does when he lies. I wiggle my fingers at him. “Do I need to tickle the answer out of you?” He trills in indignation that the roles are being reversed. 

“Fine. Rocky tickle Grace to check health.”

I hum, satisfied. “What aspects of my health?”

“Feel for… muscle development. And weight gain.”

“Y’know, if you wanna feel me up, you could just ask,” I say. I laugh at how steam hisses from his vents in flustered frustration. Man, fake flirting with Rocky will never get old.

“Stop making joke. Is serious. Rocky worried.” 

I sober up. “Okay, sorry bud. I- I get it. I’m worried about myself too. But… we can just talk about it. You don’t have to sneak around.” 

Rocky taps his claws together. “Grace… Grace lift shirt and show Rocky if improvement?”

I sigh, blushing slightly. Privacy isn’t really a thing anymore. But I still get shy about being asked to strip—especially since my body’s so different from normal, from when I first met Rocky. I know he knows that. I pull my t-shirt off. 

Rocky’s claws trace down my ribs. I try to stay still for him. The bones protrude obviously. His claws make their way to my stomach, and he makes a pleased noise as he feels the development of muscle and fat there. “Grace more than skin and bones now,” Rocky states. 

“Yeah, bud, I’m getting better,” I say, chuckling softly as he prods at my belly button. I flex my abs for him. He makes a surprised noise. I think it’s hard for him to remember sometimes how squishy humans are.

When he’s satisfied I put my shirt back on. He cuddles up to me, tracing his claws through my hair. I let my eyes flutter shut, enjoying the pampering. 

“Grace,” Rocky says, interrupting my slow drift into an afternoon nap. 

“Mm?” I mumble. 

“Rocky still like tickling,” Rocky says, his tone slightly shy. “Can tickle Grace without checking for health, question?” 

i’ve always been a fidgety person—tapping on any surface despite not needing a clearer image, shuffling around when i ought to be standing still, tinkering on something unnecessary while having an unrelated conversation. i know this- everyone who has ever been in close proximity to me knows this; it's obvious if you pay attention to me for more than ∀ seconds. what i did not know was that aliens apparently also have this trait.

ryland's nervous energy manifests differently to mine, which i guess makes sense when you consider he has three less arms for activities, but it's obvious nonetheless—talking to himself when he’s in the middle of something that doesn’t require communication, constantly readjusting his clothing even after telling me he’s comfortable, vibrating his leg up and down if he’s sat down. it's nice to think that, despite the light years of distance between our two worlds and the complete incompatibility of our atmospheres and bodies, we really aren't all that different.

since i developed and began wearing the suit on a daily basis, our fidgeting has become more intermingled. mostly this means we're just tapping each other, but the thinness of the xenonite allows us both to feel textures that were previously unknown to us: my carapace and ryland's flesh. the squishiness of all that protects my friend from pathogens and wounds both unnerves me and intrigues me, but i suppose that he wouldn't be here if it were that inefficient. still, it's pretty gross.

apparently i have a morbid curiosity though, because the objectively disgusting feeling of ryland's skin moving under my claws is not enough to deter me from using him as a distraction item from time to time. like right now.

we're not talking much right now, both of us involved in our own entertainment, but the proximity made available by the suit is still novel and we are not about to waste an opportunity to cuddle, as ryland calls it. i idly rub my hand across the side of his abdomen while i listen to the drama i’m still not caught up on. seriously, how can i have been in space for years and still not have finished my podcast? ridiculous. 

i reach the part of ryland's body where his ribcage ends and his skin is especially squishy. out of interest, i squeeze gently to feel just how much give it has, and ryland makes an alarmingly high pitched noise as he startles in his seat. we both freeze, staring at each other, until i ask, "what the fuck was that?"

"language." ryland says weakly, marking the page in his book and setting it to the side. the speed of his heart tells me he’s embarrassed, and my interest piques. "and, uh- human thing."

i do my best to mimic the human expression of being unimpressed. "you watch me eat. you can tell me what that was."

ryland nods weakly. "okay, i just- i’m ꕷ𐒅𝚋ݬ𐒅𝛤ဌ. um- it's when you touch someone lightly, and they laugh."

"humans can be ticklish?" i screech, standing bolt upright and not caring for how taken aback ryland looks. "how? you’re so soft!" without waiting for an answer, i squeeze ryland's abdomen again and he squirms in his seat, a nervous smile beginning to form. i try tapping at his skin, and the squirming continues. "interesting. humans need even lighter touch to be tickled."

"so how does it work for yOU- hehehey!" ryland starts to ask, when i try to test out scratching gently and he yelps before giggling. it's kind of adorable how he curls up in a poor excuse of a defence. "c'mon, i gotta- it's for science."

i sigh dramatically, because i was totally prepared to tickle ryland like i would an infant eridian, but i guess he has a point. "much harder motions, since we have harder skin. like this." i rub against his arm in what i would expect to be a sensitive manner, but of course, he just nods. "where are humans most sensitive? eridians have places that are more vulnerable; i assume you do too."

ryland narrows his eyes, and i can’t help but laugh. "you’re just trying to get me."

"not just." i wiggle my carapace teasingly, both amused and disgruntled that i’ve been found out so soon. "i'll tell you my places if you tell me yours." i concede.

ryland sighs, and i can already tell he’s gonna go through with it. "alright. for humans, it's here," he gestures at his lower torso—all the squishy bits "here," he holds up his arms and points at the pocket of skin beneath the joint. "and for some reason, here." he lifts his foot and pats the base of it.

that last one makes no sense to me. "you- don’t you walk on that? surely it should be less sensitive, so it would be less painful."

"hey, i didn't design it." ryland grins, and i guess that's true. "your turn."

"eridians are mostly ticklish here," i stretch out one of my legs to demonstrate. "here," i tap the top of my carapace, where the vents sit. "and here." i point at my mouth. "where the body is weakest, at joints and openings." i explain, because ryland looked confused. "can i tickle you now?"

blood rushes to ryland's face, and i suppose the phenomenon of being embarrassed about your sensitivity is not unique to erid. "i don't- hang on, i’ve not had a turn yet!" he folds his arms petulantly. i am again reminded of a baby, though i don’t say this aloud. "where are you most ticklish?"

i wasn't expecting this question, and i shift from leg to leg for a moment in flustered surprise before answering. ".. my vents. where are you?"

"my ල𐒅Էලဌ." ryland gestures to the lower middle of the squishy part of his torso, and i mentally catalogue the word. "for humans, you gotta be pretty light- like this." he taps his fingers against my carapace so gently, i can hardly feel it—though i suppose it wouldn’t be as barely-there if your skin is so soft. 

"i think i was doing a good job." i say smugly, if only to hear the way ryland's heartbeat quickens. "it's kind of difficult not to tickle when i have to be so gentle on your weak sk♬♩♫-!" my words are quickly interrupted by a shriek as ryland darts forward and scrubs at my vents in an alarmingly ticklish manner for a human with such weak hands. i’m so surprised by the sensation that for a moment, i just flail around before i remember that i am considerably stronger than ryland and push him off. "rude!"

ryland, being the awful person that he is, just laughs at me. "that was so cute!" he grins, and i crumple down onto the floor dramatically. "you sounded like a cat."

"well you look like a baby." i retort, giving him a poke in the stomach for good measure. as expected, he squeaks and pulls away. "you’re a pebble. dumb, lanky, and dangerously squishy."

"and you are a ticklish rock." ryland teases, which is probably funnier if you’re a human; to me, this just seems obvious. annoyingly, it still makes me feel a little embarrassed. no- not embarrassed—flustered. "hey, do you guys ever get- like, cosmetic smoothing? like you’re getting polished?"

i tilt my carapace to the side. "yes. it's similar to human hair, since the skin grows back after time." a second later, i realise why he’s asking this question now. "oh- it can tickle, if that's what you mean."

ryland looks pleased. "i knew it."

for whatever reason, his smugness makes me all the more agitated and i scuttle a few metres back to finish my podcast. "i’m sitting here now." i declare. ryland laughs, but he doesn’t protest, and we resume our comfortable silence.

-

let this be very clear: i do not forget things. my memory is unusually good even among eridians, especially so when it's things i care about, so when i start idly tapping at ryland's ribs, it is not because i forgot about his sensitivity—it's because i think it's funny to watch him squirm. he assumes unconsciously that my memory must be similar to his (or maybe he’s just gotten used to me ignoring him completely sometimes and repeats everything he says for my benefit) and so his first instinct is not to complain about me being annoying, but to remind me. i can understand why he enjoyed teaching so much, to be honest. 

"hey- rocky!" ryland wiggles particularly strongly as i move my poking closer to the flat of his stomach. it's a good distraction as any from the fact that his stomach didn’t used to be flat, and wouldn’t be if he had enough calorific intake, but there's not a lot either of us can do about that right now. "that tickles."

i make a show of gasping and putting a claw against my carapace like i’ve seen humans do in movies when they’re shocked. "really? you are ticklish? i can’t believe i forgot!" ryland gives me an unimpressed look, and i just continue my joke. "it's funny because i didn’t forget, and i never forget anything."

"alright, alright- sue me for giving you some grace." ryland scoffs, playful. i’m about to say something very funny about the 'grace' part of his comment, when he scratches hard at the leg i still have resting against his torso and i squeal unflatteringly as i scramble backwards. "i remembered that, didn't i?" he adds, clearly pleased with himself.

"you forget everything, and you still remembered that?" i mutter, shaking my leg out indignantly. "rude and disrespectful."

ryland grins, poking at my carapace teasingly. i know there's no way such light touch might tickle, but i find myself shying from his hands all the same with that familiar nervous excitement. "i mean, with that kind of attitude, you’re basically just asking for it now."

bizarrely, the idea kind of sounds nice. i straighten up in a mix of embarrassment and confusion at this thought, and ryland laughs. "that is not- i am doing- you are wrong and dumb." i settle on eventually, higher pitched than i usually am. "when did you last sleep?"

"uh uh, you can't pull that one on me again." ryland wiggles his fingers in my direction, and i suppress a squeak. why is this getting to me so much? "if you want me to stop, just say the word."

obviously my first instinct should be to tell him to stop, so i can go back to watching mamma mia with him and criticising the logistics of getting married at twenty human years. so- why is it that instead, i don't say anything of the sort? "i am not afraid of tickles." i say in a voice that completely undermines my statement.

this seems to be exactly what ryland wanted to hear, because he perks up even more. "i don’t know, you seem pretty nervous to me." he teases, fingers hovering just above my carapace. i squeak a little at the proximity, and he laughs, which does nothing to quell my embarrassment. "or are you just excited, hm?"

"you're seeing things." i say, focused entirely on how close his hands are to me—it feels like my insides are buzzing with the anticipation. "you need sleep. i watch."

"or, i could just do this." ryland begins scratching at my vents and i shriek in panic and excitement—which is a very strange combination of feelings, but i’m not really paying attention to that right now. instead i’m realising with horror just how much more ticklish the improved version of my suit makes everything now ryland's fingers can just glide across my carapace. "woah, that bad?"

"ye♬♪s!" i squeal, barely within ryland's hearing range. "it- ♩t fuck♫♬g t♩♫♪kles!" there's no way half of my words are making any sense whatsoever, but there's not a whole lot i can do about that when i feel like i’m about to explode. "♪♫♬♩!" 

"that one wasn't even a word." ryland teases, not letting up on my fucking vents holy shit why are his stupid fleshy hands so ticklish? it's all i can do not to smack him in the face and sprint away. "c'mon, you can do better than that."

i do honestly try to say something (mostly insults), but all that comes out is a garbled stream of notes and laughter. listen, okay- it fucking tickles, and i have barely had any contact with another living being for decades, and my brain can't seem to decide whether i love this or need to escape right the fuck now. it's a lot! 

ryland is entirely unsympathetic to my plight—just cooing at me like i’m a child. "uh oh, i think someone's ticklish! coochie-coo, rocky!" i don't think i've ever been more flustered in my life. 

the worst part might just be that i know i can escape if i want- we both know i’m perfectly capable of pushing him off and getting out of there if i want to. so the fact that i’m still here, being tortured relentlessly by a big squishy alien is.. not a great look on me. although i have no idea why i’m so embarrassed about this; we are literally in space. there is no one else for lightyears that might be able to see us!

"this is adorable." ryland says fondly, beginning to slow down a little. i think i prefer this—still pleasantly unbearable, but not so much that it's all i can think about. "i can’t believe this never came up before."

"y♩ou are- you♬♪ abusing this." i complain, still laughing helplessly. weirdly, the lighter touches make it harder to keep still, and i find myself squirming despite my best efforts otherwise. "i w♩ill have rev♬♫nge."

ryland pokes me again, and i squeak even though i barely feel it. "yeah, i’m sure you will, buddy." it sounds sarcastic, but his nervous grin suggests he knows otherwise. 

-

apparently there's a human saying that revenge is a dish best served cold. maybe this is true, in the sense of building up the anticipation would make ryland all the more tense and thus squeakier when i do eventually squeeze him to death, but i’m not nearly patient enough for that. another human phrase is cuteness aggression, which is when they find something so endearing that the brain doesn’t know what to do with the information and decides they need to kill it. when ryland first told me about this phenomenon, i thought it sounded ridiculous, but now i’m listening to his squishy body stumbling around and the way he laughs when he’s excited, and i definitely get it. 

so technically, this doesn’t have to be counted as revenge and i can still serve it cold later on. right now, i need to squeeze this human until he metaphorically pops.

i pounce on him when he’s sat on his bed so i don't actually injure him, and he yelps in surprise. "rocky! jeez, dude, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"i have a problem." i say, poking his cheek as i do. it's interesting to feel the softness of it compared to the ungiving bones of his teeth behind it, but mostly i’m doing it because i think it's sweet. he kinda looks like a ♫♩♬♫—an animal that doesn't have much of a tough exterior, since it lives mostly underground on erid and thus doesn't need protection against the atmosphere. "cuteness aggression is the problem."

ryland blinks at me for a second, and laughs, the blood rushing to his face in the way i know means he's embarrassed. "you think i’m cute?"

"yes, cute cute cute." i punctuate each word with a poke to each one of his cheeks, both amused and endeared by his reaction to all this. "i’ve done some research about how humans can help this feeling."

"i- alright." ryland grins shyly, and i shift a little so all my legs are free. "what is it?" i give his stomach a quick squeeze and he makes an adorably high pitched noise, eyes widening as he realises. "oh, come on. i’m not- that's not fair!"

i trill happily. "it's so fair. you make cute noises, and i want to hear them." 

before ryland has the opportunity to complain all too eloquently, i begin to scribble at his stomach and he squeals, covering his face in his hands. "rock- rohohocky!" 

"you’re like a little baby." i coo teasingly, tracing nonsensical patterns where his shirt has started riding up and ryland squirms uselessly. "cute cute cute."

"not fahahahair." ryland giggles helplessly, and i very politely don’t point out the fact that he could totally get away if he just asked me to get off. "ihihit tickles!"

i laugh because that seems pretty obvious to me, but maybe it's not as clear to humans. "yes, i’m doing it on purpose. tickle, tickle!" i tease, and ryland whines in embarrassment, beginning to push at my arm halfheartedly—i know his full strength, and this isn’t even close to half of it. "now, i’ve been doing research."

"how- hohohow much rehehesearch could yohou have dohohohone?" ryland complains, pulling his knees up seemingly unconsciously as i start to poke at his hips. i squeeze experimentally at where they meet his thighs, and he shrieks. "NOHOHO- not thehehehere!"

"you didn't tell me all the places humans can be ticklish." i wag a finger at him in mock-disapproval, mostly because he keeps doing it to me when i crash into something in my ball. "i told you the truth, and this is how you repay me? i don't even know if your worst spot is your stomach now, so i need to test."

i pull all my hands back, giving ryland room to breathe as he stares at me in playful horror. his heartrate has increased, but if the way he’s fighting a smile is anything to go by, it's excitement rather than fear. "you’re setting yourself up for a whole lot of revenge, buddy." 

"it's for science! you love science." i wiggle my claws teasingly in the air, and ryland makes a very cute squeaky noise in response. "where should i start?"

when i don't do anything other than wait for a reply, ryland seems to realise i’m actually asking him. "where- you want me to tell you?" he gapes, as if i’ve just asked him to saw off his own leg. 

"well, i could just figure it out myself." i say smugly, positioning my hands over his thighs and chirping in amusement when he twitches. "i’ve heard vibration can often be ticklish for humans, do you want me to test that too?"

"you- it- wait, is it?" some of the tension drains from ryland's body as his curiosity overrides his nerves, and i laugh. "shut up- i didn’t even know that." he grins, folding his arms. 

i tilt my carapace to the side. "wanna see how it feels?"

ryland gestures to himself as if to say go ahead, and i begin to hum at a frequency too low for him to hear, but strong enough for it to rattle my body slightly; manipulating soundwaves is the most common way eridians tickle one another, but since ryland is incapable of doing anything similar, i didn’t think it was that important to mention. apparently i should have brought it up sooner, because the moment my carapace starts to vibrate on his stomach he gasps and claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggling—as if i can’t hear it regardless. 

"so? does it tickle?" i ask. it's obvious this is sensitive for him, but i will never pass up an opportunity to tease my squishy friend. 

he nods for a second, eyes squeezed shut, before he takes a breath and his laughter comes tumbling out. "yehehes! oh my gohohosh- sohohoho muhuhuhuch."

"good!" i begin to poke at his his chest and he squirms a little more underneath me. "where do i tickle next?"

"i cahahahahan't." ryland begs, which i guess is just an invitation for me to experiment on my own. after all, i don’t hear him saying no.

i laugh, squeezing gently at his ribs. he squeals, so i just have to keep going. "you can. i believe in you." 

the testing lasts a while before ryland starts to flag, which allows me to learn that pretty much every part of him is ticklish. the worst places seem to be his stomach (at least that wasn't a lie), thighs, knees and ears (ears? that seems ridiculous to me- why should they even have nerves?), but i was able to get at least a giggle from anywhere i tried. as expected, he is utterly adorable in every second of my 'experiment'—curling up in a futile attempt at defence, wiggling around to release some of the nervous energy, occasionally smacking the ground when i find a particularly sensitive area—and it's all i can do not to squeeze him so hard it begins to hurt.

eventually though, his stamina is depleted, and he lays spreadeagled on the ship's floor while i pat his head; i don't know if this is helping him or not, but i like it, so- whatever. "you are disproportionately good at that." 

"yes, i’m good at everything." i say smugly, happy to have brought my friend joy and proved my superiority at the same time—yet another point to rocky on the humans vs eridians scoreboard. "and you are very ticklish." i add, just to tease him a little more.

ryland scoffs, before reaching out and squeezing at my leg. i yelp in surprise and crumble to the ground as he doesn’t stop, a mischievous smile taking over his face. "oh yeah? it's just me?"

i squeal a series of words that are mostly just curses, and kick him off. he laughs at me and i huff dramatically. "you are.. also good at it. somewhat."