#ler!simon

Grace banged his fist on the table and Simon flinched. “Simon, if you would just listen for a second—“

“NO! I’m not gonna fucking listen! How many times have I told you I don’t want that fuckin’ bot near me?!”

“I know. Listen, I don’t like needles either, but we have to take your blood to check for—“

“You don’t hafta do anything!” Simon exclaimed. “Just shove me out the airlock and let me DIE already!”

I took a sharp inhale of breath. Simon hadn’t asked for us to let him die since the first few weeks he was with us. Something must be going on with him aside from this argument.

Grace didn’t seem to see that. He was getting angrier and angrier. “Are you serious? Do you hear yourself right now?” He took a breath, standing up from his chair and shoving it aside, hard. “If you would just stop interrupting me—“

“Why do you care so much about my mutations anyway? Do you think I’m a fuckin’ monster?” Simon snarled.

“ENOUGH!” Grace exploded. “I can’t do this anymore! I need to take your blood to make sure the mutations aren’t killing you. I don’t want you to fucking die, Simon!”

Simon seemed taken aback by the curse. I think it was the first time either of us had heard Grace curse. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because I love you!” Grace cried. 

There was a stunned silence. Even Grace seemed surprised at himself. 

I slipped silently out of the lab and went to hide in the cockpit. 

I hated it when they fought like that. It made so much noise, and this ship was tiny and impossible. I had been thinking lately about Stratt’s deliberations over whether to put the crew in a coma, and how all the research showed we would go crazy and kill each other. 

That was assuming they’d be dealing with me, Grace, Yao, and Ilyukhina—a mild-tempered crew—without knowing Simon and Rocky would eventually join us. That was assuming we’d die after a year or two of completing the mission. 

Simon’s arrival brought out a side of Grace I had never seen before. Grace became completely swept up in making sure Simon was okay, so much so that I faded quietly into the background. Simon provoked the anger issues that Grace had spent years, or so he told me, taming. I had begun to understand the type of person he was when he got kicked out of academia. 

I fiddled with the screens in the cockpit, mindlessly exploring the maps of stars and systems nearby on our course to Erid. 

I liked Simon. I really did. There had been a nearly perfect few weeks, after Simon got over the initial shock of living with us, and before he had started picking fights with Grace daily. The four of us spent most of our time in the don’t-go-crazy-room, exchanging stories of the worlds we grew up in. He was a good guy, and he clearly liked the both of us. We had enjoyed having new company. Grace and I allowed ourselves to behave like kids instead of the saviors of humanity.

It had been so complicated recently. The first few arguments, I had intervened. But then I realized we needed at least one emotionally regulated human around, so I let them yell at each other until they exhausted their voices. 

I listen carefully for noises in the main body of the ship. The yelling had stopped. I heard Rocky’s voice, too far away to be picked up by the translator on my laptop, but I could tell it was somewhat angry. I heard the murmured tones of reconciliation, and then the beeps of Armando instructing Grace on how to draw blood from Simon’s good arm. Then, there was silence. 

I turned back to my own tasks, opening up my laptop and working on some code to automate a systems check for the ship so we didn’t have to do it as often. I had been coding a lot recently. I had become used to being by myself. 

I was so focused I didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps approaching the cockpit. When Grace peeked his head inside, I startled. 

“Hey,” Grace said. 

“Hey,” I replied lamely. 

He navigated his body through the narrow space of the cockpit. Simon trailed after him. I glanced down and saw that they were holding hands. 

Oh. 

That must’ve been why the past few weeks were so tense—they had finally figured out their feelings. I wanted to feel happy for them, but the sight only managed to drive another pang of loneliness between my ribs. 

I chewed my lip as I watched them share a look. It was too quiet for my liking all of a sudden. 

“We’re sorry,” Grace said bluntly. 

“For what?” I asked tiredly.

“For fightin’ too much,” Simon said softly. 

I set my laptop aside and rubbed my eyes. “Okay,” I muttered. 

It was quiet again. Somehow, it didn’t feel resolved. 

“Are you okay?” Simon ventured.

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t like yelling. I’m tired. And I’ve never seen you act the way you have been acting the past few weeks,” I said to Grace.

Grace winced. 

“And I’m lonely.”

They looked guilty. Grace dropped Simon’s hand. 

“No, don’t do that,” I sighed.

I picked up Simon’s hand and put it back in Grace’s. 

“Just get your act together, and I don’t want to hear more yelling on my ship,” I said firmly, as if that was the end of it.

*** 

Technically, no one was fighting anymore. Grace and Simon had evened out into a peaceful existence. They solved their disagreements without yelling. It was quiet again. 

I looked away when they cuddled. I left the room when they kissed. I stopped touching both of them and I kept my distance. They were a pair now, and I didn’t want to interrupt that.

Maybe that’s immature of me. Maybe I’m just punishing myself here. Maybe it’s unrealistic, given that those two are the only humans I’ll ever see again and I need them like I need oxygen. Maybe it’s unfair to them. Maybe they miss me.

I’m sure they don’t. Honeymoon phase, right? I don’t know. Their relationship is definitely atypical of what I was used to seeing on Earth. I had never asked Grace about his dating history, but I got the sense that he wasn’t interested in romance or sex or any of that. I guess that’s why it took me so long to figure out why they had been fighting so much.  

Rocky’s new favorite way to piss me off is to find me in the cockpit (my permanent hiding spot, it seems) and use his echolocation to narrate Simon and Grace’s more intimate activities wherever they are in the ship.

“What is purpose of using mouth, question?” Rocky needled. “Grace puts mouth all over Simon body. Very gross. Disgu~ust.” 

“Stop it, Rocky, I don’t wanna know,” I sighed. It’s bad enough that I can hear them going at it when I’m trying to sleep. 

Rocky did the Eridian equivalent of a chuckle. He paused for a few seconds, echolocating to another part of the ship. “Another question: why Grace not take clothes off?”

I turned to Rocky. “What?”

“Grace touch Simon intimately, but not other way around,” Rocky explained. 

“That’s… strange,” I murmured. I caught myself: “Wait—this is none of my business.”

Rocky chittered smugly.

***

So, I did some research. Shut up.

I don’t know a ton about Simon in comparison to the way I am extremely familiar with Dr. Ryland Grace. I could be right that Grace is somewhere on the asexuality spectrum. And that would probably translate to a slightly unique relationship between him and Simon. 

I don’t know why I care so much. It’s just boredom, I’m sure. I was just curious. I’m cooped up and I’ve gotten nosy. Nothing else.

***

I’m stuck in the same room as them. 

There was a hairline crack in Rocky’s tunnel that we hadn’t noticed and some ammonia leaked into the dormitory. Rocky ordered us to hang out in the lab until it’s fixed. 

“Hey, stranger,” Grace said lightly as I set my stuff down in the corner of the lab. 

“Hey,” I said, turning around and trying to bury myself in data.

“Whatcha working on?” Simon asked, wandering over. 

I perk up a little, always happy to talk about my work. “The Hail Mary has been collecting spectral data during our journey to Erid,” I explain. “I’ve been analyzing it as we go. Some cool stuff in here.”

Grace walked over to see, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing as I flipped through photos the ship’s cameras had taken. It’s the first time they’ve paid attention to me in a while. My fingers trembled slightly on the keyboard. 

Simon put his hand over my shaky one. I froze. I realized they were both very close behind me and I felt two conflicting needs—for some air and for more, more, more. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asked. I had stopped talking mid-sentence. 

“I’m fine,” I said, turning back to my work. Simon stopped my spinny chair halfway, and then turned me around to face them. 

Simon’s hand was braced on the desk next to me and Grace was also hovering very close. I was pretty much speechless. I hadn’t been this physically close to a person in a long time. 

“Something’s wrong with you,” Simon said bluntly. “We didn’t fix it last time and m’tired of it. Spill.”

“I- I’m lonely,” I said, again. “But I’m trying to give you guys space to…be you. To be…a thing together.”

“We’re not anything without you,” Grace replied, his eyes bigger and wetter than usual. Damn, it’s going to be difficult to keep my distance if he keeps looking at me like that.  “You are,” I said. “You’re definitely something. I don’t… I don’t know what you guys are. But I’m trying not to interrupt.” 

“But you’re forcing yourself into solitary confinement,” Simon all but growled. 

I got the sense that he knew a thing or two about solitary confinement.

“And stop saying ‘interrupt,’ because you won’t,” Grace added. “We’re a crew. A team. And we need you.”

“Okay?” Simon probed.

“Okay,” I agreed. 

***

Rocky finished dealing with the ammonia leak. 

Grace and Simon had been gracious enough not to sit in each other’s laps and make eyes at each other in my presence, but I still scurried off to the cockpit as soon as possible. 

I almost forgot about the agreement I’d made with them, so used to my routine of hiding. Simon poked his head into the cockpit and cleared his throat. 

I startled.

“You’re doing it again,” he complained. Grace peered into the hatch behind him. 

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. 

“That’s fine,” Grace said cheerfully. “We’ll come to you. As long as you need us to.” 

Simon sat himself down in the chair next to me and Grace floated around the small room, examining all the little objects and clutter I had accumulated in the past few weeks. A small model that I had used to teach Rocky yesterday about circuitry was disturbed by Grace’s movements and bonked me on the head. 

It was unusual to have them both in the tiny space I had claimed. 

It was much more crowded.

I yelped as Simon grabbed my waist and repositioned me. “What are you doing?” I asked, blushing furiously at the close proximity.

“M’braiding your hair. Stop moving,” he replied gruffly. 

I relaxed after a few minutes. I forgot how soothing it is to have someone touch your hair. Grace watched with a pleased smile as my eyelids fluttered to half-closed. I felt my heartbeat slow and the prickly feeling of emptiness in my skin, of a lack of sensation, subside.

I felt tears well up in my eyes when he tied off the braid with an elastic and patted my shoulder. Grace sat up in alarm. “Why are you crying?” he asked anxiously.

I wiped furiously at my eyes. “It just reminded me of my mom. She used to… braid my hair.”

I felt Simon’s strong arms—one flesh, and one prosthetic—close around my waist again and pull me in. He hugged me to his broad chest. I was smaller in comparison, a detail that felt strangely good. “It’s okay,” he murmured quietly. “Don’t cry.”

Grace pushed himself forward and hugged me from the front.

I took it in slowly. 

Visuals? Grace’s corny t-shirt. Smell? Simon’s shampoo, and the faint smell of sweat. Probably mine. Hearing? My crew’s steady breathing in my ears, and Rocky clanking away distantly in his tunnels. Touch? Strong arms surrounding me. Taste? The salt of my own tears.

I was still overwhelmed. 

“Guys…”

“Mm?” Grace murmured. 

“I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” Simon encouraged. 

“I can’t handle this much, but I need more,” I exhaled shakily. Simon tried to pull away. “No, don’t stop—“

I was crying again. 

Grace leaned back from the hug to look at my face. God, he was so close to me. 

“Fudge,” he whispered. He looked up at Simon. “Si, we messed up.”

“M’sorry,” Simon murmured into my hair. “We didn’t know it was this bad.” 

I struggled against his grip. “I can’t—I can’t be doing this…”

“Why?” Simon murmured, arms loosening. 

“I’m too needy, it’s too much, this isn’t normal—“

“S’not too much,” Simon interrupted.

“Your feelings are perfectly normal,” Grace chided in a gentle, teacherly voice. “This is what happens when people get lonely and isolated.” 

“But you guys are—“

“Just shut up and let us love you,” Simon interrupted. 

I stopped protesting. 

“Our lives aren’t normal anymore,” Grace muttered, stroking my cheek gently. “Why should the three of us try to be normal?”

“Okay,” I said. And it really was final this time. 

I went limp and compliant in Simon’s arms. He made a pleased noise and turned me around to face him. He pressed me closer and rubbed a hand up and down my back. I buried my face in his neck. 

It felt so good, I almost felt wrong enjoying it. 

Simon understood that, I think. It took him a while to get used to us touching him in the beginning. He was always saying something about Eden and being a sinner. 

Grace communicated something to Simon behind my back, and I heard Simon chuckle and then make an “mm” noise. 

“Hey,” Grace said. “Can we cheer you up?”

“What do you mean?” I mumbled, still too busy enjoying the hug.

“I wanna see a smile,” Simon said into my hair. 

“No, I’m too busy being pathetic right now,” I muttered. 

“Why couldn’t the astronaut book a room on the moon?” Grace said, already chuckling at the answer. 

“Why?” I grumbled into Simon’s shirt. 

“Because it was full,” Grace wheezed. 

“I’m not laughing at that bullshit,” I deadpanned. Simon chuckled at my reaction. 

I cracked a smile despite myself. 

“Theeere we go,” Grace grinned. 

Simon poked at my sides. “How about a laugh?”

“Sihimon, don’t—“

“Ooh, good idea,” Grace snickered. 

I tried to use my inertia to get away, but Grace was in the way. I pushed off of his chest to try to get to the door, but then Simon blocked me. 

“You’re not gonna escape if it’s both of us,” Simon chuckled. 

They grabbed me and I squirmed wildly, legs pinwheeling like a cartoon character in zero gravity. 

“C’mon guys, I’m not sad anymore, just hohold on—“

“Nope. Too late,” Grace replied. “You’ve been a sad sack for too long.”

“Sad sack?” Simon chuckled, busy wrangling my arms and pulling them over my head. 

“Yep,” Grace said cheerfully, wiggling his fingers towards my now-exposed torso. 

I squealed and squirmed around. “Grace! Don’t- Simon, let me go right now,” I demanded. 

“Sorry, you need this,” Simon justified. 

Grace buried his fingers under my arms and I shrieked. My body tensed up with the urgent need to pull my arms down. I struggled uselessly against Simon.

“Aww, is someone ticklish right here?” Grace teased, poking and digging one finger under each of my arms. 

Simon and I both cringed at the baby-talk. I was too busy laughing, but Simon groaned in embarrassment: “Grace….”

Grace laughed at us. “Simon, I’m not even tickling you right now, why are you embarrassed?”

I turned my head to look at Simon’s red cheeks. “You’re cuhute,” I giggled. 

“You’re not in a position to make fun,” Simon growled, pinching up my side to add on to Grace’s tickling.

I shrieked with laughter. “AHAHAHA- wait, I’m sohorry- Simon, Grahahace, I’m sorry—“

Grace’s hands migrated down to my stomach. He yanked up my shirt to untuck it from my tied-off jumpsuit. “Maybe now you’ll laugh at my jokes,” he commented, clawing rapidly at my bare tummy. 

“YOUR JOHOKES SUCK AHAHASS—“ 

Simon sucked his teeth. “I think you’ll regret saying that…”

“What do you call two dinosaurs who got into a car crash?” Grace asked. 

“I dohon’t knohohow—“

“Tyrannosaurus wrecks!” Grace giggled. 

“Not- FUHUNNY!!” My protest turned into a scream of laughter as he nuzzled his stubbly face into my belly. 

Simon’s thumb massaged into my hip and I shrieked. “I don’t know, you seem to be laughin’ a lot, angel,” he murmured in my ear. My face burned hotter at the pet name—I’d only ever heard him use it for Grace. 

Grace pouted. “You stole my line.”

“I have a better joke for you,” Simon said conspiratorially into my ear. “He’s right in front of you.”

Grace sputtered in indignation as I laughed from genuine humor. “Wha- Hey! Not cool!”

Grace squeezed rapidly up my thighs. “What are you laughing at, huh?”

I descending into snorting giggles. “S’NOHOHOT MY FAULT! It was SIMON!!”

“Oh yeah?” Simon teased in my ear. “You laughed, though, sweetheart.” 

He pinched up my ribs and kneaded into each pressure point with terrifying accuracy. 

“You laugh, you lose,” Simon added in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. 

I let my head fall weakly onto Simon’s shoulder, kicking desperately. My laughter turned breathy. Their fingers slowed down. 

“You feeling better?” Grace asked. 

“Noho, I’m feeling like I’ve been tohortured,” I fired back. One reprimanding squeeze from Simon set me straight. 

“Good,” Grace said with a dopey smile. He leaned up and pressed a scratchy kiss under my jaw. 

I froze. What did that mean? It must have showed on my face, because I felt a laugh rumble through Simon’s chest. 

“Calm! Simon dramatic.”

Simon huffed softly. “Well you sounded panicked. You can’t do that and expect me to not freak out a little bit.”

“Dramatic,” Rocky repeated.

Simon dragged his hand—his real one—down his face, his words muffled slightly. “Okay, what’s the matter?” he asked through a sigh.

“Grace being stupid. Grumpy. Angry. Mostly stupid.”

“Are you just wanting to insult him or is there a real problem here?”

“Not sleep! Stupid because no sleep! Rocky no can convince. Simon Grace mate, so Simon convince!” Rocky explained.

“Is he ever gonna learn to go to s— Wait. Mate? Rocky, he— He’s not my mate.”

“Mate. Simon Grace in denial.”

“I’m gonna mute your translator.”

“Again. Dramatic. Go get Grace sleep!”

“Fine. Just— drop the mate shit, okay? We’re just friends,” Simon tried again. 

“Denial!” Rocky said as he scurried away. 

Simon sighed. It’d taken a while for Simon and Grace’s interactions to not be awkward anymore, even longer for them to actually become friends. He didn’t want Rocky to ruin that with all his ‘mate’ talk. It’s not like he hadn’t… considered it before. But there were far too many risks there. If anything went wrong… Well, they were stuck on a small ship with a blunt alien who wouldn’t make things any easier. 

Sure, he caught Grace staring sometimes, but that was just because he was a scientist. Of course Simon was interesting to him with all his… mutations. And the times he sought out Simon to talk or hang out was just because they were friends, and Grace hadn’t had any human contact in who-knows-how-long. The times Grace comforted and held Simon after his nightmares? That was just Grace being Grace. He wouldn’t just let someone suffer without trying to comfort them.

So yeah. It was too risky to consider something that was so likely to go wrong.

He headed to the lab, where Grace was hunched over a microscope. Even with the discovery of… whatever it was that killed and threatened stars (Astro something?) and its predator (some kind of amoeba), they still fascinated Grace to an extreme amount. He was constantly studying it, and it was cute how invested he was.

Wait. Cute? No, not cute. Just… Never mind.

“Rocky’s on my ass about getting you to bed. When was the last time you slept?” Simon asked, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the table.

“Uh… It hasn’t been too long,” Grace answered. He looked up from the microscope, meeting Simon’s eyes with a smile. The smile he always gave when he talked with Simon, the one he loved to see.

Simon raised a brow, giving him a look that screamed ‘Really?’.

Grace cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, fine. …About three days?”

“Uh— Three days?? We went to bed at the same time the past two nights. The fuck did you do, wait till I fell asleep then snuck out?”

Grace gave his own look, one that very sheepishly said ‘Maybe?’. 

Simon huffed through his nose softly, shaking his head. “Alright, c’mon,” he said as he walked by Grace and grabbed his arm to pull him away.

“Si! I’m close to another breakthrough!” Grace nearly whined.

“You always say that.”

Grace pulled his arm out of Simon’s grip. “I’m fine, I’m a fully grown adult—”

“Okay, then act like one and go to sleep at a decent fuckin’ time, and maybe I wouldn’t have to drag your ass to bed every night.” Even as he berated him, concern laced his voice through the growl in his voice.

“Simon, really. I’ll live.” Grace sat down in his chair, taking his glasses off and hooking them onto his shirt.

“Simon says.”

Grace snickered, “Simon, that’s not how it works.”

Ever since Grace had told Simon about the game ‘Simon Says’ from back on Earth… Yeah, Simon abused it often. How could he not? There was a whole game centered around doing what he said!

“Simon says it is.”

“Well, Grace says it isn’t. And Grace also says that he gets more time to study the Taumoeba.”

“It’s not called ‘Grace Says’. And the tow-moeba will be there in the morning.”

“Taumoeba. I’m not going to sleep yet,” he said as he turned around in his chair.

“...I’ll make you a deal.”

That got Grace’s attention, and after a moment, he swiveled right back around. “I’m listening.”

“I’m liking this Simon Says thing—”

“Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

“Shut up. It’s funny. So… We’ll keep it nice and simple. We’ll play a round. You win, I’ll let you work till you drop. You lose, and you go to bed. Deal?”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? What’s the catch?”

Simon could barely keep the smirk off of his face as he held up his hands. “No catch. I swear.”

“...Okay. Deal.”

“Perfect.” 

In all honesty, this probably wasn’t the best idea on Simon’s part. He knew the basic premise of the game, of course. But he’d only learned it a few days ago. He didn’t know if there were specific strategies or ways to throw Grace off. Meanwhile, Grace had several years of playing this game. …Maybe? He didn’t actually know how often people played it. Was it just children? Or was it a sport? Either way, his point still stood; Grace was much more familiar with this game than Simon was, so logically, this wasn’t the best idea.

However… Simon was, unbeknownst to Grace, giving himself an advantage.

“Simon says… Stand up.”

Grace stood up, his hands in his pockets. “You’re gonna make me humiliate myself.” It wasn’t even a question.

A small smirk crept onto Simon’s face. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t not say it.”

Simon shrugged slightly. “Raise your right hand.”

Grace didn’t move a muscle.

“Simon says… Do a handstand.” The idea was random, but he had to give Grace the illusion of this being normal.

“A handstand?? Simon, do you want me to die??”

Simon just shrugged again with a smug grin. “I mean, you can always just give up so we can go to bed…”

Grace gave him a dead-pan look. But he placed his glasses on the table and stretched out his arms, hyping himself up. Simon was doing his best not to laugh, though he was truthfully ready to catch or steady Grace… just in case. 

Grace raised his hands and flipped into a handstand, actually managing to stick it for a few seconds. His shirt fell down to his shoulders, and Simon’s eyes widened slightly. He forced himself to look away from any exposed skin—he wasn’t a creep. He cleared his throat, ignoring the sudden warmth on his face. But then Grace began tilting forward slightly, trying to walk on his hands to keep himself upright.

“Shit!” Simon stepped forward and grabbed Grace’s legs. He chuckled as he helped get Grace’s feet back down on the ground and grabbed his arm to hoist him up. “Didn’t even last four seconds.”

“Shut up, that wasn’t voluntary!” Grace shoved Simon paired with laughter of his own.

“Woah, Simon never said to shove!”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Fine, fine. …Simon says lay down.” Finally his plan was going into action.

“Uh… weird, but okay.” Grace laid down on the ground with his hands folded over his stomach.

Simon’s laughter had faded, his smirk returning and taking over. “Simon says put your arms above your head.”

Grace seemed confused, but reluctantly followed directions.

“Now, Simon says keep ‘em up there.”

“This better not be what I think it is. …Simon, do not!” Giggles already began spilling from Grace’s lips just from Simon taking a knee next to him.

“What?? I haven’t even dohohohone anything!” Simon chuckled.

“Yet!”

“Hey, you can always just put your arms down so we can go to bed.” Simon grinned as he straddled Grace’s hips. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was damn proud of himself for this idea.

“...You suck.”

“What was that?” he asked, reaching out to run his nails up and down Grace’s side. He let out a squeak and tried to curl his body away without moving his arms, burying his face into his right one.

“Sihihihihimon! This isn’t— fahahahahahahair!”

“Seems pretty fair to me. You agreed to play.”

“You sahHAHAID— thahahahat thehehehere WAHAHAhahsn’t a cahahahahahahatch!!”

“Yeah… I lied,” Simon said without even a hint of shame in his voice. How could he feel bad when Grace just looked so damn cute? 

“Yohohohohou SOHOHOhohon of a bihihiscuihihihihit!!”

“Language, Angel,” Simon chuckled, knowing damn well he was being a hypocrite.

“You— Yohohohohou say thehehehehe f-wohohohohord— EHEHEHEHEVERY HOHOHOHOHOUR!” Grace squealed and arched his back as Simon buried his very bearded face into Grace’s tummy and blew a raspberry right below his belly button. Grace was holding onto his blond hair, tugging it in his attempt to keep his arms up.

“Don’t rip your hair out,” Simon chuckled as he sat back up.

“Dohohon’t— act like ihihihihihit’s not yohohohohohour fault!” Grace retorted through residual giggles.

“My fault? You’re the one who agreed to play the game. And right now, Simon says keep your arms up. Simon also says… don’t laugh.”

“What!? Si—” Grace shut his mouth immediately when Simon began drawing slow, torturous circles in the scientist’s armpits. Simon watched as Grace buried his face into the side of his arm in an attempt to muffle any giggles.

“Remember what happens if you lose,” Simon teased with a smile, laughing when Grace squealed behind closed lips because he was now tickling along the blond’s neck. He could feel Grace’s feet pounding against the ground underneath him, which did nothing in his favor.

When one hand scratched behind his ear with the other one scratching at his tummy, he finally dropped his arms and started trying to push Simon off. “OKAHAHAHAHAY o— ohKAHAHAHAHAHAY! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE UHUHUHUHUP— SIHIHIHIHMohohoHOHON!!”

“I dunno… I think I gotta make sure you’re fully tuckered out.” Simon grinned, reaching back and squeezing up and down Grace’s thighs. Grace squealed once more, grabbing onto Simon’s legs while his own thrashed and kicked.

“Geez, Ryland, nearly kicked me!”

“IHIHIHIHIHIHI’M— sohohoHOHOHORRYHYHYHYHY!!”

“Nope, that’s a punishable offense. And you, Sir Savior… have been sentenced to more raspberries,” he said gravely, as though he’d just condemned Grace to death. He began slowly, oh-so-slowly, leaning downwards.

“NO! No no no Sihihihihihi— we can talk ahahahahabout— THIHIHIHIHISAHAHAHA SIHIHIHIMOHOHOHON—!” 

Simon’s face was currently buried into the side of Grace’s neck, his own face a bit hot from the proximity. 

C’mon, Butcher, get a grip. You’re just tickling him, get your mind out of the gutter.

If Grace had the same thoughts, he was far too preoccupied with the raspberries Simon was blowing over and over again. The side of his neck, the back of his ear, his shoulders, his collarbone, making sure to use his beard to contribute. Grace was shrieking and laughing, back arching as he held onto Simon’s shoulders.

Simon gave him a final raspberry on the inside of Grace’s collarbone before finally pulling away slightly—the sight made him melt. Grace’s hair and shirt were disheveled, his face red and his eyes closed as he took in air through residual giggles. 

“You okay, Angel?” Simon asked, his voice softer.

“Y— Yeheheheah…” Grace giggled, opening his eyes to look up at Simon. …Which was when Simon realized he was probably a little too close. They gazed at each other in flustered shock before Simon cleared his throat and sat up fully.

“Good. That’s— Good. C’mon, it’s time to get you in bed.” Simon stood up, crossing his arms as he smiled fondly down at Grace.

“Nooooo…” Grace rubbed his face, yawning.

Simon chuckled. “Seems like the tickling did a good job of tiring you out, huh?” 

“Shut up.”

The brunet extended a xenonite hand to help Grace up, who took it gratefully. Simon hauled him up, and wow, did Grace look exhausted. He looked dead on his feet.

“...Alright,” Simon muttered to himself before scooping Grace up in a bridal carry.

“Woah—!” Grace exclaimed, holding onto Simon’s shoulders. “Simon, I can walk.”

“Yeah, but you looked about two seconds away from face planting, so I’m saving you from a broken nose and a pissed off Rocky.” He stayed put for another second in case Grace actually wanted down… but instead of protesting, he just closed his eyes and hesitantly rested his head on Simon’s shoulder. 

Was that… no, no. That blush was just residual from the tickling. It had to be. Simon’s, however? …What blush? There’s no blush. None.

Simon walked to the sleeping quarters, admittedly struggling a bit with getting down the ladder while holding Grace. But he could feel the blond dozing off, and he’d be damned if he made him get up. 

After a bit of struggling (and nearly slipping a few times), Simon made it down. He laid Grace down in his bed, smiling softly and pulling the blanket over him. He gave his friend one last longing look before turning to leave. But Grace’s voice made him stop in his tracks.

“Si?”

Simon whipped around. “Yeah?”

“...Can… you stay?” he asked, his words a bit slurred from sleepiness and his eyes only halfway open.

“...Huh?” Did he hear him right?

“One of the reasons I haven’t been sleeping… is because I’ve been getting nightmares.”

Simon’s brows furrowed. He knew all too well about nightmares. “About what?”

“...The beetles. That they… never made it back to Earth. I— I keep seeing my friends…”

Simon sighed softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Fuckin’ idiot,” he said affectionately. 

“I didn’t wanna worry you.” Grace yawned.

“You’re not worrying me, dumbass.” Simon hesitated before gently carding his fingers through Grace’s hair. 

Grace leaned into it, sighing softly.

“I’m sure the beetles made it back. Hell, you sent four of ‘em. What’re the chances that they all didn’t make it? Don’t answer that question,” Simon said when he saw Grace start to open his mouth. “It’s not your responsibility anymore, Ry. You did your part. You did all you needed to do, and you were fuckin’ awesome while doing it. Okay?”

A soft grumble in response.

“Okay?” Simon repeated, moving to lightly scratch behind Grace’s ear.

Grace snorted softly, giggling and curling up. “Okahahahahay, okay!”

Simon snickered softly and retracted his hand. “But, to answer your question… Yeah. I’ll stay with you.” He crawled in bed with Grace, giving him as much space as he could. But when Grace cuddled up with him, oh, all willpower shattered. How could he not cuddle back?

Grace exhaled softly, face nuzzled the slightest bit into Simon’s chest. “...Night, Si…”

Simon smiled. Maybe it was because of the shock that wow Grace wants this too, maybe it was the fact that Grace had been getting nightmares, maybe it was because Simon was tired as well… But he softly placed a kiss to the top of Grace’s head, really hoping he wouldn’t regret it later.

“Goodnight, Angel.”