#lee!simon

Grace nearly beamed at the fact that Simon was letting him help. It had been a rocky road getting Simon to trust him. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what possible science could’ve led Simon to appear in his airlock, mutations and all, covered in blood. From what he’d managed to piece together, it’s clear that the two men came from very different universes. 

Grace bumbled over and kneeled next to Simon. He gave the younger man the benefit of the doubt as Simon fidgeted nervously at the proximity. He could tell Simon was not used to care, medical or otherwise. Grace carefully unwrapped the bandages on Simon’s amputated arm and inspected the wound.

Simon had never felt this clean before. He’d ardently refused when Grace offered to help him wash (“Are you out of your fucking mind?!”), but had cooled down when Grace showed him the sponge bath area and given him privacy. His body was clean. He smelled decent. He was even wearing clean clothes—Grace’s. 

A lot of laundry had been done on the Hail Mary since Simon appeared—he’d bloodied a lot of sheets. Grace seemed to have endless patience. Simon didn’t understand it.

Grace made quick work of the injury originally. Simon hadn’t trusted Armando, so the robot had given verbal instructions while Grace tended to Simon’s wounds. 

Simon watched as Grace hummed something to himself and re-bandaged the wound. It felt strange to Simon that Grace was the one kneeling. He thought it should be him, prostrating himself for his sandy-haired savior. He didn’t really believe he was alive, still. He felt that some part of him had been transported to an alternate reality—Heaven, maybe—while his true self died an infinite death in the blood ocean. He felt grateful that his soul, his consciousness, was here in this bright and quiet place. 

Grace patted Simon’s shoulder gently. “All done,” he said, face sunny and open. Grace couldn’t believe there was another human with him. He asked Rocky about a million times if his alien friend was seeing Simon too, worried he had finally lost it.

“Thanks,” Simon said gruffly. Grace’s eyebrows raised before he could school his expression into neutrality. Simon had seemed grateful from his body language, but was wary of him and hadn’t spoken much, not even to say thank you. He’d only asked questions with a fearful undercurrent in his voice. 

“It’s no problem,” Grace said. “Really. I’m happy to do all of it. I’m just glad to have company.”

Simon nodded. A moment of silence passed before Simon spoke up again. “Can I show you something?”

Grace perked up. “Of course.” 

Simon used his free hand to pull his borrowed t-shirt over his head. It was a bit of a struggle, and Grace almost intervened, but he didn’t want to embarrass or rush Simon, so he waited patiently. He glanced away for a second when Simon’s chest was revealed, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but looked back when he understood it was a medical question.

Simon lifted his amputated arm and used his good arm to point to something just below his armpit. It seemed to be a growth, but not like the tooth mutation on Simon’s face. It was a brownish mutation with tendrils spreading across Simon’s upper ribs. 

“I think it’s the thing that was grabbing at me back in the sub,” Simon said. “I- I wasn’t sure what it was, so I don’t know how to explain it. But I don’t think it’s part of my body.” 

Grace nodded. “Do you want me to try to remove it?”

Simon hesitated. “I just… I don’t want to touch it myself,” he said anxiously.

Grace’s brows furrowed. He could tell there was some trauma there. “Okay,” he said. “I can try.” 

Grace reached up and skimmed his fingers gently over the substance. It didn’t grab onto him or move in any way, so Grace assumed it was stable. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and started to gently pry it off. Simon winced a few times, but ultimately the substance came off cleanly, leaving only a small patch of irritation on Simon’s ribcage. 

“See? All better,” Grace said warmly, relieved himself that it came off without a struggle. 

Simon’s torso sagged in relief. “Thanks,” he said again. 

Grace grinned. Two thank yous! Take that, trauma therapists. Maybe one molecular biologist is enough to cure PTSD. 

Well, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself a little.

Simon’s expression turned slightly puzzled at the big smile, but he dismissed it as another Grace quirk. Grace wasn’t like anyone he ever met. He lowered his amputated arm slowly. 

“Hold on, I want to put something on the rash,” Grace said. He grabbed a tube of something or other and propped up Simon’s arm gently. 

Grace squeezed a dollop of the cream onto his finger and dabbed it gently onto the rash. Simon twitched. 

Grace paused. “Does it hurt?”

Simon shook his head. Grace continued. Simon shifted again.

“Are you sure?” Grace asked.

“Yeah, I- it just feels weird,” Simon stammered.

“Weird how?” Grace murmured, finishing up with the rash cream as quickly as possible to limit discomfort. 

Simon lowered his arm. “Like, itchy? But not like usual. It makes me feel kind of…warm.”

Grace frowned. “Hmm. Can I try something?”

Simon shrugged. 

Grace ran his fingers gently around the rash. Simon shivered. 

Grace chuckled. “Oh, I know what it is,” he said. “You’re ticklish.”

“I’m what?”

“You don’t know what that is?” Grace said in a shocked tone.

“No,” Simon said self-consciously. 

“Huh,” Grace said, sitting back on his heels. “Tickling. It’s a nervous system response to protect vital organs. There are places on the human body that are more sensitive. If someone else touches them gently, you feel kind of tingly and often it will make you laugh. Different people are ticklish in different places.”

“Why…why would you do that? It sounds dumb,” Simon grumbled.

Grace smiled. “It’s like play. Kids do it. Sometimes people do it when they’re adults too. I don’t know, it’s just to be silly.”

“Oh,” Simon said, a punched-out sort of noise. Play. Not much time for that in Eden. That explains why he hadn’t heard of it. 

Grace waited patiently for any further reaction. He started to pack up the medical supplies he’d used, giving Simon space.

“Can I try?” Simon spoke up.

Grace turned around. ”Hmm?”

“Can I try the tickling thing?”

“Oh,” Grace said, blushing slightly. He shifted to sit next to Simon instead of kneeling in front of him. “Yeah. Sure.”

Simon waited patiently, if a little apprehensively. There was a moment of silence. “Are you going to… do anything?” Simon asked. “Never mind, this is so fucking stupid, I—“

“No, hold on, it’s not stupid,” Grace said gently. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Okay,” Simon said. His voice was unusually small.

Grace ran his fingers gently on the same spot he had before, just on the side without the rash. Simon’s good hand instantly batted Grace’s hand away. 

Grace paused, withdrawing his hand. “You good?”

“Sorry, instinct,” Simon muttered. Grace swore he could see a hint of red on Simon’s cheeks. 

“All good,” Grace said cheerfully. He lowered his hand back to Simon’s side and squeezed gently. 

Simon let out a choked sound, twisting away from Grace’s hand. “Wh- why does it feel like that?” Simon said, his voice a bit higher pitched than usual. 

Grace chuckled. “It tickles,” he replied. “Weird, huh?”

Simon’s frown deepened, but so did his light blush. Grace took this as a sign to continue, knowing Simon was much stronger than him and could stop him if necessary. 

Grace squeezed gently up Simon’s side again before landing a few pokes on Simon’s belly. Simon didn’t laugh, but a few more grunts and choked noises escaped his mouth. 

“You’re not gonna laugh?” Grace asked, an endeared smile on his face. “You’re allowed, you know.” 

“A-allowed?”

“Yeah,” Grace said gently, sensing that there was more behind this request than Simon was letting on. 

It was quiet for a moment. Simon jerked again as Grace’s fingers played around his bellybutton, a blunt “hah” noise forcing its way out of his mouth. 

“You say I’m allowed,” Simon grunted, “but don’t you gotta actually make me laugh first?”

Grace squinted, unable to discern if that was humor or a genuine question. He settled for humor, based on the set of Simon’s eyebrows. “Wha- are you saying I’m not doing a good job?” Grace exclaimed. 

Simon looked up into Grace’s eyes with an expression of mild mischief. 

“Wooow,” Grace said, a smirk spreading across his face. Internally, he was delighted that Simon was opening up and not being afraid to push back at him a little. “I can’t believe this. Mr. Big Scary Blood Ocean is provoking me for tickles.” 

“No I am fucking not—“ Simon protested, but he was cut off by honest-to-God giggles as Grace squeezed up his ribs. 

“Such a mouth on you, Si,” Grace scolded lightly. He dug a thumb into Simon’s pectoral muscle in retaliation. 

“Ahaha- Si?” Simon grunted, squirming away and trying not to smack Grace’s arm with his good hand. 

“You don’t like it?” 

A few breathless laughs later, Simon replied, “It’s fine, I guehehess…”

Grace tormented Simon’s top ribs until the man was shaking and huffing with silent chuckles. He was impressed Simon hadn’t pushed him away yet. 

“You‘ll tell me when you’ve had enough, yeah?” Grace asked.

“Y-yeah,” Simon said through gritted teeth. 

“Hmm,” Grace hummed, switching it up to try scribbling down Simon’s neck. He immediately tried to protect it with his shoulder, making a hissing noise followed by a few nervous giggles.

“It’s funny, you’re making noises like you’re in pain but you’re laughing,” Grace observed in a murmured tone.

Simon flushed at being scrutinized. “No, it’s cute,” Grace assured him. This did not help with Simon’s raging blush. 

Grace’s fingers migrated around the curve of Simon’s shoulder and snuck under his good arm, scritching gently along the soft hairs there. Simon jerked with a startled laugh, trapping Grace’s hand inside. 

“Aww, man,” Grace said playfully. “I’m stuck.” He pouted comically, wiggling his fingers around. 

Simon was beyond giggly. “Noho you’re not- gehet the fuck outta there- ahaha…”

“I’m 100 percent stuck and I can’t possibly get out,” Grace insisted with a cheeky grin. “Tickle tickle, Si…” 

“What- why would you fuhucking sahay that?!” Simon exclaimed through a few snort-laughs. 

“Ohoho, did you just snort?” Grace chuckled in adoration. “Uh- It’s like a thing you say. To tease the person getting tickled.” 

“Why does it make it so much worse…” Simon whined. 

Grace lifted his extra arm and found Simon’s other armpit, giving it the same treatment. “Because it’s silly, and it tickle tickle tickles!” He said in a goofy voice. 

Simon endured about another minute of being tickled under both arms, doubled over as if in pain but giggling towards the floor of the ship. When he finally had enough, he twisted his torso sharply and essentially shoved Grace away. 

Grace backed off instantly, his smile fading. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Simon said gruffly. 

Grace nodded slowly. “You know, if you say ‘stop’ verbally, I will stop,” he said gently. 

Simon looked up. “Really?” He hated how needy his voice sounded.

“Yeah,” Grace said. “Pinky promise.” 

Simon looked at the proffered pinky, and then down in his lap. He seemed to think for a second. Then, he made a decision. 

He offered Grace his amputated arm to meet the pinky in the middle, making Grace burst into amused giggles. “Sorry,” Grace chuckled. “I offered a one-armed man a pinky promise. Not my finest.”

Simon smiled despite himself at Grace’s laughter. A proud feeling expanded in his chest at having made him laugh. 

“Thank you,” Simon said for the third time that day before he could stop himself. Grace just smiled.

He watched Grace collect himself, and he let Grace help him put his shirt back on. He felt warm inside. If this was Heaven, he didn’t want to come back to life. 

He shook his head slightly to dismiss the feeling. He cleared his throat, smoothing his face into his usual serious expression. Simon trailed after Grace as he made his way to the lab—a part of the ship he hadn’t explored yet. 

Grace looked back, surprised but glad that Simon was following. He continued walking, a new bounce in his step.

“So,” Simon said eventually when he was seated across from Grace, watching him fix a broken piece of lab equipment. “Do you talk to everyone like they’re a child, or just me?”

Simon sat at the dining table, resting his head in his hands, patiently waiting for whatever was so important for Rowan to have him see. Rowan was always so vague when it came to his plans, and the gang had learned to just trust, no matter how vague or strange they may be. Simon had a sneaking suspicion it was about the day before, with changing his nerves around for some playful mischeif.

Rowan came back with an armful of dishes, stacked like how waiters would balance hot dishes on their arms with precision and poise as he made his way down to the dining table. A feast of food for the two of them. It included delectable dishes like angel hair spaghetti with creamy vodka sauce with a side of chicken thighs, and a bottle of sparkling white wine for the main course. Rowan set down a freshly baked raspberry pie over a trivet before taking off his gloves.

Simon scoffed. Leave it to Rowan to always go out of his way to make something extravagant. "What's all this?'

Rowan smiled, setting down two plates, forks, knives, fabric napkins, and two glasses of ice water. "It's dinner."

Simon rolled his eyes, "I see that smart ass. What's the dinner for exactly?" How dare Rowan just treat him to something like this and expect it to be casual?!

Rowan chuckled at Simon's suspicion as he brought out a shaker of parmesean cheese to the center of the table, along with a salt and pepper grinder. "Can't a guy make dinner for a companion in appreciation. After all, it was around this time when you joined us for our adventures. Isn't that worth celebrating?"

Simon narrowed his eyes in deeper suspicion, something wasn't right, but he couldn't quite place it. Then again, Rowan did have a nack for going above and beyond with his homemade gifts. He would never forget the time during Christmas where he gifted him a whole set of homemade tea cups, or that other time he went out of his way to fix his favorite mug through the art of kintsugi. The jester leaned back in his chair with his arms folded across his chest. "Is this about yesterday? You're salty aren't you? The big bad Rowan, taken down from a few feather's over his ears~"

Rowan gazed over Simon's smug grin, twitching a pointed ear in annoyance as he kept his small, polite smile, sitting down on his side of the table and pour them a glass of sparkling wine. "Do you really think I'm that immature to hold a grudge over something like that? You've done plenty worse to me, Raen, and especially Chel. I had already had this dinner planned for a few weeks. Just because this is happening after that, does not mean you have any reason for concern, Simon." Whille that was mostly true, yesterday did give him an idea of adding something to the dinner.

Simon's gazed softened, just a little, but he was still suspicious of the red-headed fairy. While they couldn't lie, he had a feeling he wasn't getting everything. However, he had no real reason to doubt Rowan. He leaned over the table, smelling the aroma of the food he made, "So, what's in it?"

"Just a homemade recipe made from scratch with a few secret ingredients Shea taught me when I was younger." Rowan hummed as he twirled his fork around the pasta and brought it to his mouth. Rowan always enjoyed making things from scratch: the pasta, the flour to make the pasta, growing the wheat in order to make the flour, etc.

Simon grinned as he leaned in with interest, gazing between Rowan and the food, "Aw, is the secret ingredient love~?" He flirted watching Rowan's reaction.

Rowan chuckled as he took a bite of the food he made, showing there was nothing wrong with it, "Something like that."

The two dined together, sharing stories and chatting about their adventures and what the future held for them and how they were getting along with the others. Whenever one would finish a plate, they'd both get up for more from the pot that held the food and it would start all over.

Simon leaned back in his chair comfortably, dapping the napkin to his lips, making sure not to smear his make-up as Rowan sat across from him with a look in his eye with interest. Simon's stomach was comfortable as he gazed over at the untouched pie calling his name.

"Why don't we hold off the pie for now until we're a little more comfortable. Don't wanna get too full until we can't move." Rowan chuckled, standing up to clear off the table and tend to the dishes.

"Oh fine, I guess." Simon pouted playfully. He was about to stand up until he started to feel something else in his stomach, a flutter. Now, Simon knew the familiar feeling of fluttering love in his stomach, and this wasn't it. His ears started feeling the same fluttery feeling and his feet started to tingle. "Hey Row boat?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you do?" Simon glared up at him as Rowan came back over leaning against the wall with that same, patient smile as before.

Rowan shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You pOISONED ME!" Simon growled as he stood up, about to fight the ginger before the fluttery tingles turned to prickles all over his body. Simon realized that the prickles were starting to feel very... tickly. Shit.

"Oh?" Rowan stepped over, watching Simon stumble and begin to lose his balance. "I suppose you never needed a leap potion before since you usually float around."

"L-lhehehehap potion?" Simon sputtered out a giggle as he held his stomach, the buzzing all over his body was becoming harder to ignore as his body naturally reacted to it. "Why the hell would you need a leap potion in spaghetti?!"

"Well, when Raen and I were younger, Shea always used a leap potion in the sauce so that we got familiar with falling, so that transitioning to flying when we got our wings was a lot easier, eventually it just became a staple." Rowan rambled on with his story, his smile turning into a grin. "And I wanted to use the highest ingredients for you, so I stopped by the market dimension for one made out of the best material you could make a leap potion for, angel feathers!"

Simon's eyes widened, that's why Rowan was so confident to eat from the same pot, cause it was a leap potion! The demon snarled, or at least attempted to through his giggles as he fell to the ground, curling up into a ball to block out the growing tingling sensation all around him. It felt like millions of feathers were stuffed and swirling around under his clothes. "YOhuhuhuh ahahahss! Thihihihs is about yesterday!"

Rowan hummed as he stood over Simon, leaning over his chair. "Who knew a leap potion could be so ticklish for you?" Rowan knew that angel feathers were very affective against demons, especially ticklish ones. He watched with a grin at Simon writhing and kicking his feet as the ticklish feeling waved over his soles. "By now those fluttery little feathers must be aiming for those ribs of yours, my friend."

Simon threw his head back in laughter as the tingling feeling spread over his ribs, scratching lightly enough to make him howl. Feathers swirled around his ears and neck, scratching his underarms and ribs, quills writing essays over his stomach and pinches to his thighs, and feathers sawed between his pinky toes. He was in absolute ticklish hell, ironic for his predicament right now.

"IHIHIH'M GOHOHOHING TO KIHIHIHLL YOHHUHUHUH!"

Rowan crouched over, monitoring over him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself from flopping around. "No you won't. Just a little more and it'll all be over, like it never happened. I made sure I got one that only lasts for 10 minutes. Im not a complete cruel monster."'

Simon cackled as he grabbed Rowan and clung to him, laughing his heart out. Over the course of a few minutes after the peak ticklishness, the feeling began to go away. Starting from the top of his head to down to his pinky toes, relief washed over until Simon was giggling residually.

A hand ran through his hair affectionately as Simon looked up to find Rowan smiling down at him, a much more sympathetic one as he picked him up. "How are you doing, Si?"

Simon panted as he leaned into Rowan's chest, greedily taking in air like there was none left in the world. "That was awful, you dick." He listened to Rowan's soft chuckle rumble through his chest and mumbled with a smile, "Never knew you had it in you, goody-two-shoes"

Rowan kept playing with his hair as Simon recovered, carrying him over to a couch to relax. "Well, I may have had some inspiration. Really, it was a last minute addition, believe it or not."

Simon chuckled, "I'm surprised you came up with that so quickly, wonder what else I haven't learned about you yet, Row boat~" Simon flirted as Rowan came over with two plates of raspberry pie. Simon raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

Rowan laughed as he sat down next to Simon, "Don't worry, no leap potion in here. I figured you'd like some dessert after that ordeal."

"I appreciate it," Simon took his plate and bit into the pie, sighing happily at the rewarding flavors on his tongue. "Damn, how'd you get so good at food?"

Rowan chuckled as he also took a bite, "Mom taught Raen and I a lot about food. She was always open with our interests, so if I wanted to make a pie, she taught us how to make the crust, helping if we needed it instead of hovering over us about every detail. She allowed us to make mistakes, which in the end, made it more fun and a reason for us to try again."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to just, magic it into existence? Don't you and Raen also know a spell to just 'Poof! Food!'?"

Rowan shrugged, "if we absolutely have to, yes. But there is just something so...nice about taking the time and attention to make something yourself, especially out of scratch."

"You're telling me! This pie is awesome!"

Rowan laughed, throwing his head back with a toothy grin, "Would you say it's heavenly?"