Just Kiss Me Already

"You and Rocky alliance. Good. Grace still stupid."

For hours, the lab had been filled with intense work and loud arguments. The experiment they’d been so sure about had failed immediately. Neither of them gave up, of course, just pivoted, recalculated, argued, and tried again.

If not for you, Grace and Rocky would’ve forgotten to eat entirely. And when they ignored you, you had to physically herd them away like stubborn children, promising they could come back once they’d finished their food.

You checked your watch. Nearly sixteen hours. No wonder Grace was getting sloppy. No wonder Rocky was irritated.

"You need to lie down," you said, stepping toward Ryland. "You need sleep."

"I don’t need…"

You took the tools from his hands and pushed his goggles up onto his forehead.

"Don’t argue with me," you said firmly. "Rocky’s right. When you’re tired, you get irritable and act… stupid."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight you. "I just want this to work. We’re close. I can feel it. Another hour or two and…"

"And then Armando gets to hook you up to life support? No. You’re done."

Rocky shifted slightly in his enclosure, pretending not to listen, but he failed. "Grace must sleep. You correct. You smarter than Grace."

You bit back a laugh and rested a hand on Ryland’s shoulder before he could respond. The last thing you needed was another argument on the Hail Mary.

"You take Grace to sleep, question? You watch Grace, question?"

That got you thinking. Rocky rarely asked to be replaced while watching Grace, not like this. He must have been in a really bad mood right now.

"I promise," you said gently, tapping the transparent wall. "Everything okay, Rocky?"

"Will be good after Grace sleeps.” But he tapped lightly in return.

You took Ryland’s arm and led him toward the dorm.

"He likes you more than me," Grace muttered, glancing back.

"Don’t be jealous," you said quietly. You knew Rocky could hear every word anyway. And you also knew he’d still be listening.

The dorm lights were dim. Grace kicked off his Converse and set his glasses aside with zero precision. At some point, the two of you had pushed your mattresses together. One was too narrow. Two were better. Safer, and somehow less lonely.

He collapsed onto the bed with a long sigh. You sat against the wall, picking up a jumpsuit and examining the tear in the sleeve. Quiet work felt right while he rested. Maybe you’d put on an audiobook, there were still so many left in the archive.

"What are you doing?" His voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I’ve got a suit to repair," you said, holding it up.

"Don’t be ridiculous. Come here."

"You need sleep."

"Yeah, and how am I supposed to sleep if you’re sitting over there?" He propped himself up, frowning. "It’s bad enough Rocky’s probably still listening, maybe watching too."

You sighed. You weren’t winning this one. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. It’s science. Probably. I mean, there are studies…l, okay, I don’t remember them exactly, but it sounds like something science would support."

You raised an eyebrow. "That sounds made up."

"It is. But it’s also true."

"...Wow. Okay."

You slipped off your shoes and lay down beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the distant hum of the ship, the faint sounds of the lab far away.

Then…

"I’m really glad you’re here. I mean…not glad you’re on a suicide mission. That part is objectively terrible. But… you being here is not terrible." he said. "I mean…this whole situation sucks, obviously. But… yeah. I’m glad it’s you."

You smiled softly. "I’m glad too. Though I would’ve preferred meeting you under better circumstances. Dinner or something like this, maybe."

Ryland swallowed. "Wait…really? You mean, like… a date?"

"Yes. A date. If you wanted."

"Yes…” he said immediately. Too immediately. Then he froze. "I mean…yes. Hypothetically. In a purely theoretical, post-not-dying scenario…yes." 

You laughed. "Good. Then when this is over, that’s the first thing we’re doing."

He smiled, softer now. "Deal," he said, and paused. "That sounded too intense. I didn’t mean it like, okay, I’m going to stop talking now."

Your hand found his, your fingers threading together naturally. "You should be asleep," you murmured.

"Working on it." Grace yawned, his eyes already slipping shut. "My brain is currently running three parallel processes," he muttered. "One is exhausted, one is trying to solve the experiment, and one is… this." He gestured vaguely between you. "This one is the least efficient."

You smiled softly. "And which one is winning?"

"None," he mumbled. "Total system failure imminent."

You let out a quiet breath, your thumb brushing lightly against his hand.

"Dr. Grace," you said softly, "I once read a study that said hugging reduces stress. Don’t you think that, combined with your current research, we might…"

"I think that’s an excellent idea," he murmured, cutting in before you could finish. "Groundbreaking. Nobel Prize. Minimum."

His voice faded at the edges, words blurring as sleep caught up with him. You shifted closer, careful, resting lightly against him. For a second, he went still, just for a second,then relaxed. His breathing slowed, evening out, steady and warm beneath your cheek. You stayed like that, listening. It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t what you would have chosen. But it was good. Somehow. 

Rocky was already waiting when you stepped back into the lab. "Grace sleep efficiency improved, question."

You blinked. “Yes?"

"Good. Rocky observations confirm."

Ryland groaned behind you. "Oh no. What did you observe?"

"Heart rate lower. Breathing stable. Grace not stupid during sleep."

You pressed your lips together. "Rocky…"

"Also," he added, "proximity to you increases Grace survival probability."

Ryland froze. "I…what?"

"Conclusion: you stay close to Grace. For science." A pause. "Rocky approve."

Ryland buried his face in his hands. "I’m never going to recover from this."

++++++

"How are you doing?"

Ryland’s voice came through the intercom in your helmet.

"She fine. Question."  Rocky said from somewhere in the background.

"It’s fine, Rocky. One more spot and I’m done," you replied.

You clipped yourself to the railing and moved along the Hail Mary’s hull. The damage wasn’t severe, but it needed fixing. The welder Rocky had modified worked perfectly, sealing the hull faster than expected. 

Even before you left the airlock, you had to deal with Grace. He didn’t like you going out alone, it made him anxious.

"I’ll be fine," you had told him, pulling on your suit. "Eat something. Get some rest. I know what I’m doing."

"I know," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "I just… I worry, okay? You’re…I mean, you matter. To the mission. And…just… don’t die, okay?" 

"Okay," you smiled, squeezing his shoulder. "Two hours. I’ll be back."

He nodded, but it didn’t really reassure him.

"How are you doing?" he asked again now, over the intercom. "Not trying to be pushy. Rocky’s worried."

"Rocky is not worried. She knows what she is doing. Smarter than Grace."

You smiled. "A few more minutes. What if…"

The ship jolted. The welder slipped from your grip, but you caught it just in time. Another jolt.

"Something’s wrong with the engine…I think it’s a short…I’m fixing it…just…hold on… are you there? Can you hear me?" 

"I am, just…"

The next pull yanked you off the railing. The tether snapped tight, then recoiled like a whip, slamming you into the hull. Your head slammed into the helmet. A dull crack echoed in your ears. The air punched out of your lungs, nothing left, just panic and silence. 

"Grace! She needs help. Grace! Focus. Fix engine. Now." 

You couldn’t answer. Everything spun.

"Are you there? Can you hear me? Say something, please." 

"Quick, quick, quick."

Warmth spread across your lips. Metallic. Blood. Your fingers tightened around the welder pressed to your chest as another violent tug shook you. You grabbed the railing again, pain shooting through your arm.

"She there. Time critical. Grace, take her." 

The buzzing in your head grew louder. Nausea rolled through you. You clung to the railing, your only anchor. Your vision dimmed.

You were lying on something soft.

"Eye movement detected."

You tried to move, but a hand caught yours.  His thumb brushed over your knuckles before he let go, like he wasn’t sure he should. He pulled back a little too quickly. 

"Hey. Easy."

Ryland.

You opened your eyes briefly, too bright, then shut them again.

"You had a minor concussion," he said, voice quieter now. "Some bruising. You’re okay. Medical system patched you up. You scared us."

"You came for me?" you whispered.

"Of course I did," he said immediately. "Statistically, you’re my favorite person."

"There are no other people here, Grace," Rocky pointed out.

Your lips twitched. You touched your head and felt the bandage under your fingers.

"You should lie down," Ryland said.

"You’re not that kind of doctor."

"Still counts. You’re concussed. You don’t get opinions."

You let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh. "You look tired."

"I’m not," he said quickly. "I’ll stay."

And he did.

When you woke again, hours had passed. Grace didn’t mean to fall asleep, his hand was still loosely wrapped around yours. Rocky watched over both of you.

Later, you managed to sit up. Then stand.

"I didn’t thank you," you said quietly as Ryland steadied you. "You saved me."

"You’d have done the same," he replied, watching you carefully. You scared us." He paused „You scared me." 

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. Just… next time, you’re staying inside."

Two days later, you were moving on your own again, though neither of them let you do any real work. After you failed to complete your work outside the ship, someone had to do it. The choice wasn't difficult, or rather, you no longer had a say.

"Grace worried. Very, very, very," Rocky said.

"I know," you replied, watching Ryland on the screen outside. "He’s nice, isn’t he?"

"Grace heart rate changes when you speak." 

You smiled faintly. "I like him too. And I like you too, Rocky."

"Grace observes you. Often. When you not looking."

"Rocky, stop." You felt yourself blushing and a strange shiver ran down your neck.

"Why stop? This is data."

You blinked. You looked up from the screen and looked at your friend. "What? No, we’re just friends."

"Grace looks at you differently. You look at him that way also. Grace very worried."

You glanced back at the screen, Grace still working. You knew you would have followed him without hesitation, whether his life was in danger or he suddenly decided to fly to the other side of the universe.

"It’s complicated," you said softly. "Humans are complicated."

A click.

"I’m done," Ryland’s voice came through the radio. "Heading back."

"I’m waiting for you. Be careful."

You saw the thumbs-up and smiled. You didn’t see it, the way he smiled, just for a second. 

The airlock hissed open. You were already there waiting for him to help him with the suit. Ryland stepped inside, pulling off his helmet too fast, eyes finding you immediately.

"Hey," he said, a little breathless.

"Hey."

He crossed the distance without thinking. He ignored your hands that were waiting to take the helmet from him and threw it to the ground. "Don't do that again, don't go out there alone." he said quietly. "Please."

"I’ll try."

"That’s not…" he stopped, exhaled. "Okay. Fine."

His hand found yours, like it had before, but this time he didn’t hesitate.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “When I came back for you… I’ll never forget it. And being there now, I kept thinking about it.”

“You didn’t lose me, Grace.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I didn’t.”

But he didn’t move away, not even a little. You were standing too close now. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slower, more deliberate. The look in his eyes was different than usual. 

Your lips. Your eyes. Back again. Something shifted.

"Grace. Heart rate elevated."

Neither of you reacted.

"Significant. Cause: you."

You let out a soft breath, but neither of you pulled away. Ryland leaned in, closer. Close enough that you could feel his breath, uneven and warm. He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, like he was giving himself one last chance to stop.

"Data indicates—"

Ryland closed the distance. The kiss was soft and careful. A little unsure at first, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. Then his hand tightened slightly around yours, and something in him settled, and it was real. You touched his cheek gently, feeling his soft stubble under your fingers.

"—contact established," Rocky finished.

Ryland pulled back enough to look at you. His blue eyes were wide, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"…Okay," he breathed.

A beat of your heart.

"Statistically," he added quietly, "that was a good decision."

You laughed softly, and then he smiled, gently, a little crooked, but completely sincere. And this time, when he leaned in again, he didn't hesitate.

When everything around you was so crazy and dangerous, when you lived with the feeling that the end might soon come, this closeness was what you craved. What you deserved. What you wanted to wrest from fate together.

And it felt good.

"You and Rocky alliance. Good. Grace still stupid."

For hours, the lab had been filled with intense work and loud arguments. The experiment they’d been so sure about had failed immediately. Neither of them gave up, of course, just pivoted, recalculated, argued, and tried again.

If not for you, Grace and Rocky would’ve forgotten to eat entirely. And when they ignored you, you had to physically herd them away like stubborn children, promising they could come back once they’d finished their food.

You checked your watch. Nearly sixteen hours. No wonder Grace was getting sloppy. No wonder Rocky was irritated.

"You need to lie down," you said, stepping toward Ryland. "You need sleep."

"I don’t need…"

You took the tools from his hands and pushed his goggles up onto his forehead.

"Don’t argue with me," you said firmly. "Rocky’s right. When you’re tired, you get irritable and act… stupid."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight you. "I just want this to work. We’re close. I can feel it. Another hour or two and…"

"And then Armando gets to hook you up to life support? No. You’re done."

Rocky shifted slightly in his enclosure, pretending not to listen, but he failed. "Grace must sleep. You correct. You smarter than Grace."

You bit back a laugh and rested a hand on Ryland’s shoulder before he could respond. The last thing you needed was another argument on the Hail Mary.

"You take Grace to sleep, question? You watch Grace, question?"

That got you thinking. Rocky rarely asked to be replaced while watching Grace, not like this. He must have been in a really bad mood right now.

"I promise," you said gently, tapping the transparent wall. "Everything okay, Rocky?"

"Will be good after Grace sleeps.” But he tapped lightly in return.

You took Ryland’s arm and led him toward the dorm.

"He likes you more than me," Grace muttered, glancing back.

"Don’t be jealous," you said quietly. You knew Rocky could hear every word anyway. And you also knew he’d still be listening.

The dorm lights were dim. Grace kicked off his Converse and set his glasses aside with zero precision. At some point, the two of you had pushed your mattresses together. One was too narrow. Two were better. Safer, and somehow less lonely.

He collapsed onto the bed with a long sigh. You sat against the wall, picking up a jumpsuit and examining the tear in the sleeve. Quiet work felt right while he rested. Maybe you’d put on an audiobook, there were still so many left in the archive.

"What are you doing?" His voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I’ve got a suit to repair," you said, holding it up.

"Don’t be ridiculous. Come here."

"You need sleep."

"Yeah, and how am I supposed to sleep if you’re sitting over there?" He propped himself up, frowning. "It’s bad enough Rocky’s probably still listening, maybe watching too."

You sighed. You weren’t winning this one. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. It’s science. Probably. I mean, there are studies…l, okay, I don’t remember them exactly, but it sounds like something science would support."

You raised an eyebrow. "That sounds made up."

"It is. But it’s also true."

"...Wow. Okay."

You slipped off your shoes and lay down beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the distant hum of the ship, the faint sounds of the lab far away.

Then…

"I’m really glad you’re here. I mean…not glad you’re on a suicide mission. That part is objectively terrible. But… you being here is not terrible." he said. "I mean…this whole situation sucks, obviously. But… yeah. I’m glad it’s you."

You smiled softly. "I’m glad too. Though I would’ve preferred meeting you under better circumstances. Dinner or something like this, maybe."

Ryland swallowed. "Wait…really? You mean, like… a date?"

"Yes. A date. If you wanted."

"Yes…” he said immediately. Too immediately. Then he froze. "I mean…yes. Hypothetically. In a purely theoretical, post-not-dying scenario…yes." 

You laughed. "Good. Then when this is over, that’s the first thing we’re doing."

He smiled, softer now. "Deal," he said, and paused. "That sounded too intense. I didn’t mean it like, okay, I’m going to stop talking now."

Your hand found his, your fingers threading together naturally. "You should be asleep," you murmured.

"Working on it." Grace yawned, his eyes already slipping shut. "My brain is currently running three parallel processes," he muttered. "One is exhausted, one is trying to solve the experiment, and one is… this." He gestured vaguely between you. "This one is the least efficient."

You smiled softly. "And which one is winning?"

"None," he mumbled. "Total system failure imminent."

You let out a quiet breath, your thumb brushing lightly against his hand.

"Dr. Grace," you said softly, "I once read a study that said hugging reduces stress. Don’t you think that, combined with your current research, we might…"

"I think that’s an excellent idea," he murmured, cutting in before you could finish. "Groundbreaking. Nobel Prize. Minimum."

His voice faded at the edges, words blurring as sleep caught up with him. You shifted closer, careful, resting lightly against him. For a second, he went still, just for a second,then relaxed. His breathing slowed, evening out, steady and warm beneath your cheek. You stayed like that, listening. It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t what you would have chosen. But it was good. Somehow. 

Rocky was already waiting when you stepped back into the lab. "Grace sleep efficiency improved, question."

You blinked. “Yes?"

"Good. Rocky observations confirm."

Ryland groaned behind you. "Oh no. What did you observe?"

"Heart rate lower. Breathing stable. Grace not stupid during sleep."

You pressed your lips together. "Rocky…"

"Also," he added, "proximity to you increases Grace survival probability."

Ryland froze. "I…what?"

"Conclusion: you stay close to Grace. For science." A pause. "Rocky approve."

Ryland buried his face in his hands. "I’m never going to recover from this."

++++++

"How are you doing?"

Ryland’s voice came through the intercom in your helmet.

"She fine. Question."  Rocky said from somewhere in the background.

"It’s fine, Rocky. One more spot and I’m done," you replied.

You clipped yourself to the railing and moved along the Hail Mary’s hull. The damage wasn’t severe, but it needed fixing. The welder Rocky had modified worked perfectly, sealing the hull faster than expected. 

Even before you left the airlock, you had to deal with Grace. He didn’t like you going out alone, it made him anxious.

"I’ll be fine," you had told him, pulling on your suit. "Eat something. Get some rest. I know what I’m doing."

"I know," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "I just… I worry, okay? You’re…I mean, you matter. To the mission. And…just… don’t die, okay?" 

"Okay," you smiled, squeezing his shoulder. "Two hours. I’ll be back."

He nodded, but it didn’t really reassure him.

"How are you doing?" he asked again now, over the intercom. "Not trying to be pushy. Rocky’s worried."

"Rocky is not worried. She knows what she is doing. Smarter than Grace."

You smiled. "A few more minutes. What if…"

The ship jolted. The welder slipped from your grip, but you caught it just in time. Another jolt.

"Something’s wrong with the engine…I think it’s a short…I’m fixing it…just…hold on… are you there? Can you hear me?" 

"I am, just…"

The next pull yanked you off the railing. The tether snapped tight, then recoiled like a whip, slamming you into the hull. Your head slammed into the helmet. A dull crack echoed in your ears. The air punched out of your lungs, nothing left, just panic and silence. 

"Grace! She needs help. Grace! Focus. Fix engine. Now." 

You couldn’t answer. Everything spun.

"Are you there? Can you hear me? Say something, please." 

"Quick, quick, quick."

Warmth spread across your lips. Metallic. Blood. Your fingers tightened around the welder pressed to your chest as another violent tug shook you. You grabbed the railing again, pain shooting through your arm.

"She there. Time critical. Grace, take her." 

The buzzing in your head grew louder. Nausea rolled through you. You clung to the railing, your only anchor. Your vision dimmed.

You were lying on something soft.

"Eye movement detected."

You tried to move, but a hand caught yours.  His thumb brushed over your knuckles before he let go, like he wasn’t sure he should. He pulled back a little too quickly. 

"Hey. Easy."

Ryland.

You opened your eyes briefly, too bright, then shut them again.

"You had a minor concussion," he said, voice quieter now. "Some bruising. You’re okay. Medical system patched you up. You scared us."

"You came for me?" you whispered.

"Of course I did," he said immediately. "Statistically, you’re my favorite person."

"There are no other people here, Grace," Rocky pointed out.

Your lips twitched. You touched your head and felt the bandage under your fingers.

"You should lie down," Ryland said.

"You’re not that kind of doctor."

"Still counts. You’re concussed. You don’t get opinions."

You let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh. "You look tired."

"I’m not," he said quickly. "I’ll stay."

And he did.

When you woke again, hours had passed. Grace didn’t mean to fall asleep, his hand was still loosely wrapped around yours. Rocky watched over both of you.

Later, you managed to sit up. Then stand.

"I didn’t thank you," you said quietly as Ryland steadied you. "You saved me."

"You’d have done the same," he replied, watching you carefully. You scared us." He paused „You scared me." 

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. Just… next time, you’re staying inside."

Two days later, you were moving on your own again, though neither of them let you do any real work. After you failed to complete your work outside the ship, someone had to do it. The choice wasn't difficult, or rather, you no longer had a say.

"Grace worried. Very, very, very," Rocky said.

"I know," you replied, watching Ryland on the screen outside. "He’s nice, isn’t he?"

"Grace heart rate changes when you speak." 

You smiled faintly. "I like him too. And I like you too, Rocky."

"Grace observes you. Often. When you not looking."

"Rocky, stop." You felt yourself blushing and a strange shiver ran down your neck.

"Why stop? This is data."

You blinked. You looked up from the screen and looked at your friend. "What? No, we’re just friends."

"Grace looks at you differently. You look at him that way also. Grace very worried."

You glanced back at the screen, Grace still working. You knew you would have followed him without hesitation, whether his life was in danger or he suddenly decided to fly to the other side of the universe.

"It’s complicated," you said softly. "Humans are complicated."

A click.

"I’m done," Ryland’s voice came through the radio. "Heading back."

"I’m waiting for you. Be careful."

You saw the thumbs-up and smiled. You didn’t see it, the way he smiled, just for a second. 

The airlock hissed open. You were already there waiting for him to help him with the suit. Ryland stepped inside, pulling off his helmet too fast, eyes finding you immediately.

"Hey," he said, a little breathless.

"Hey."

He crossed the distance without thinking. He ignored your hands that were waiting to take the helmet from him and threw it to the ground. "Don't do that again, don't go out there alone." he said quietly. "Please."

"I’ll try."

"That’s not…" he stopped, exhaled. "Okay. Fine."

His hand found yours, like it had before, but this time he didn’t hesitate.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “When I came back for you… I’ll never forget it. And being there now, I kept thinking about it.”

“You didn’t lose me, Grace.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I didn’t.”

But he didn’t move away, not even a little. You were standing too close now. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slower, more deliberate. The look in his eyes was different than usual. 

Your lips. Your eyes. Back again. Something shifted.

"Grace. Heart rate elevated."

Neither of you reacted.

"Significant. Cause: you."

You let out a soft breath, but neither of you pulled away. Ryland leaned in, closer. Close enough that you could feel his breath, uneven and warm. He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, like he was giving himself one last chance to stop.

"Data indicates—"

Ryland closed the distance. The kiss was soft and careful. A little unsure at first, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. Then his hand tightened slightly around yours, and something in him settled, and it was real. You touched his cheek gently, feeling his soft stubble under your fingers.

"—contact established," Rocky finished.

Ryland pulled back enough to look at you. His blue eyes were wide, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"…Okay," he breathed.

A beat of your heart.

"Statistically," he added quietly, "that was a good decision."

You laughed softly, and then he smiled, gently, a little crooked, but completely sincere. And this time, when he leaned in again, he didn't hesitate.

When everything around you was so crazy and dangerous, when you lived with the feeling that the end might soon come, this closeness was what you craved. What you deserved. What you wanted to wrest from fate together.

And it felt good.

You giggled at something Ryland said on the walk back to your apartment. His jacket shifted as he gestured around along with his story. The cuffs shifted, moving to rest above his wrists and the silver fitness watch you knew he always wore.

Your fourth date was coming to an end, much to both of your dismay. Ever the gentleman, Dr. Grace insisted on escorting you home from the park you had visited, despite his own apartment being in the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” you watched as Ryland grasped the back of his neck, light blush dusting his cheeks. “I rambled a little. It’s a bad habit…”

Your lips twitched at his demeanour, feet stopping as you reached over to capture his hand in your own and give it a gentle squeeze. His eyes widened, gaze dropping to your intertwined hands as a grin jumped onto his lips.

“I don’t think it’s bad, Ryland. In fact, I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s cute.”

His eyes trailed from your hands and up to your face, gaze lingering on your smile for longer than he probably should have. This was only your fourth date, and he didn’t want to mess this up! He really liked you…

He stuttered as he tried to form an adequate reply when a sudden gust of wind blew through you both, making a shiver run down your spine as you used your free hand to try and rub away the goosebumps that formed.

“Oh, here!”

Ryland reluctantly released your hand, fingers brushing against yours once more before moving to remove his cardigan from himself. He stepped closer to you, guiding the wool over your shoulders. His warm fingertips brushed your skin as he pulled the sleeves to cover your arms then pulled it tighter against you once he was satisfied. The teacher glanced up at you to check it was all right before he buttoned it. However, his fingers lost their grip on the buttons before he could complete his initial task.

The way you looked up at him with blushing cheeks and parted lips had him freeze. Your hand ran up his arm, running over the band of his watch, then along his shoulder before landing on his neck. You caressed his neck slightly as he watched you with wide eyes. His hands that had fallen limp moved on their own accord. One found its place on your waist and the other gently held your cheek with the same delicacy one may hold their fragile childhood doll.

“Is this okay?” He murmured as he leaned closer towards you, eyes flicking between your eyes and lips.

Your own eyes fluttered shut after mumbling a breathless yes. Grace slowly leaned forward – he wanted to give you plenty of chance to move away if you wished – until his lips finally reached yours. Your grip on his neck tightened slightly as you pulled his lower and his hand that rested on your cheek began to caress the skin. His head tilted to the side to gain better access to your lips and he shuffled closer towards you, your bodies practically touching.

Beep, beep, beep.

…?

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

That beeping definitely wasn’t normal. What on Earth?

Ryland clearly thought the same as you and he pulled his lips from your own to look around in confusion. Your hand moved to his shoulder, but his remained unmoving. He was determined to kiss you at least one more time after he figured out what that beeping was.

But he couldn’t see anything.

The street you were walking across was empty, and there definitely wasn’t a fire, so what was that beeping?

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

He continued to look around for any signs of an emergency until he heard your muffled giggles. He looked back at you to see you covering your mouth as you stared at the screen of his watch.

Erratic heartrate detected.

Oh. Well, he didn’t even know that the watch could do that. Interesting.

Ryland’s cheeks flushed even darker as he pulled his hand from your cheek, trying to hide the alert that you had definitely already seen. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and the beeping continued.

Erratic heartrate detected. Rest now and breathe.

A groan sounded from Ryland’s chest. He dismissed the alert and covered his face in embarrassment.

“Deep breaths, Dr. Grace. Surely you of all people should know the importance of a normal heartrate and 125 sounds a cause for concern.”

He peaked out from behind his, now spread fingers and laughed. His hands dropped back to his sides as he took in your teasing smile. You didn’t seem upset by the disturbance. No, you actually seemed quite flattered.

He shot you a smile before speaking.

“Oh, yes, you are absolutely right, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I feel I need someone to nurse me back to health right this instance.”

“Yeah? What would that entail then, Doctor??”

You giggled as you spoke.

“Another kiss for starters. You know, just to investigate whether that was the cause of the spike. Correlation does not always mean causation- mmpfh-“

Ryland stumbled slightly as you threw yourself against him, hands pulling his face back down to yours. Your lips pressed against his once more and his hands moved to rest on your waist again, drawing you closer.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

Ryland’s hands slipped from your waist, hitting the dismiss button on the watch and quickly moved back to your waist again.

Your legs are crossed as you sit on his couch, something of habit, but there is a connotation that differs from the normal. This time, you’re patiently waiting for him, lashes fluttering and anticipating.

Your breathing, calm and steady, is opposite to his. A contrast. Ryland is anything but calm and steady, his heartbeat an overwhelming tempo.

The distance he had always set between the two of you, the same one that had been sheltering him, is closing in as he sits next to you. It almost slams into him when you twist your body to face him.

“Will you kiss me now?” There is a questioning lilt in your voice as you ask him, looking at him with a waiting mouth.

Ryland swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in consequence.

His warm, larger hands are coming to hold the sides of your face with such tenderness. To calm your nerves or his, he’s not so sure.

(It’s definitely the latter.)

“Yeah.” He shocks himself from the stable way his word had left, shocked because every other part of him is buzzing with nerves all bundled up and tangled.

Ryland has always had thoughts of kissing you.

They have been too much work to dismiss, because there are things you do that induce them. It comes to him when you take his hand, a touch that feels alive. It comes when you smile at him a certain way, like the way you are right now.

The silence between you is tranquil, full of anticipation, like the pause after lightning, counting seconds in search of the thunder.

And just when he thinks that his pupils won’t dilate anymore, he finally presses his lips onto yours. What a shame you’d never see them blow up tenfold, eyes shut and letting yourself concentrate on the feeling of being kissed (and him, the feeling of finally kissing you).

It’s a soft brushing at first until his lips are gliding over yours, warm and soft, and kissing suddenly seems so easy. It feels natural when you kiss him back.

A thrill runs down your spine at the feeling, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles to your cheeks, and he hopes you keep your eyes closed in fear that you’ll see his embarrassing, longing, yearning face.

Your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself, and Ryland feels his heart lurch forward in the rattling cage of his ribs. His bones are buzzing. You’re so good at kissing him back.

He tilts his head in the opposite direction, and you’re quick to follow, and Ryland swears he’s going to scream or pass out, or anything. You’re a way too fast learner, and it seems like you know what you’re doing more than him.

He doesn’t understand how he’s feeling anymore. He wonders how you feel.

Your words have been echoing in his mind since you uttered them—no feelings attached. But who is Ryland, if not a person with feelings attached to you. He is just a man making more room in his mind to tattoo this moment there and keep it permanent, tucked away from the forgetting spirit’s pursuit.

You make a noise into his lips, and Ryland almost vomits at the heavenly sound.

He’s so nervous, he’s going crazy. His mind is no longer a safe space. His couch is no longer one, too. He will now forever remember how your lips feel and taste when he sits here.

Because Ryland no longer wants this to be a dream, to be a mere favor he grants you. He wants this to be his reality. There is embarrassing desire, and yearning, and love-love-love.

When he pulls back, you’re blushing and just as breathless as he is.

And Ryland is light-headed at the sight of your swollen, kiss-bruised lips now stained in a darker shade despite your lipgloss being transferred on his own lips. And at the darkness in your cheeks that makes him run delusional thoughts that he has to burst before they can foster.

“So that’s what kissing feels like.” You say into the space between your faces, which is still so narrow that you must be breathing each other’s breath. “I see now, the appeal of it.”

“Good?”

Something is setting inside of Ryland, greater than yearning. He doesn’t have the word for it, but it feels like every atom in his body is vibrating with the need to kiss you again.

“Really good.”

“Do you want to… do it again? For practice, of - of course.”

satoru was also, you noted with a warmth that bloomed low in your stomach, incredibly, incredibly hot.

it was a strange dichotomy he embodied perfectly; the ridiculous glasses, the messy hair, the oversized hoodie — all of it screamed 'cute, loveable nerd!'. but then there was the sharp line of his jaw, the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, the sheer, overwhelming masculine grace in the way he held himself even while hunched over a textbook. that bone-deep beauty that he seemed so unaware of in these moments, which only made it all the more potent.

you slowly pushed off from the doorframe, your footsteps soft on the wooden floor.

you didn’t want to startle satoru completely, but a small part of you, the part that was currently being consumed by a huge wave of adoration, wanted to see the exact moment his focus shattered. you crept up behind your boyfriend, your shadow falling over his work. he didn’t react, not even a flinch, so lost in his own world he was. you leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, and whispered;

"you’re doing the thing."

“hmm?" satoru mumbled, not looking up, his pen still scratching a note in the margin. "what thing?"

"the thing where you look like you’re trying to solve world hunger and global warming at the same time," you murmured slowly, your lips now ghosting along satoru’s jawline. "it’s very . . . strenuous."

satoru paused then, his hand stilling. a slow, pleased shiver ran through him, so subtle you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t pressed so close.

"it’s just a paper on quantu—mmph . . . !"

you cut him off, but not with a kiss on the lips, no.

you placed a soft, deliberate peck right on the corner of his mouth. a simple, chaste little thing, but it was enough to finally pull satoru’s attention away from the page.

your boyfriend blinked, his head turning slightly to look at you, his glasses still crooked. his eyes, a brilliant, captivating shade of cerulean, were a little unfocused, like he was dragging himself back from the theoretical realm of quantum entanglement to the very real, very immediate you.

"b-baby . . . " he said, a soft, dopey smile spreading across his face, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"mhhh. you’re very pretty when you’re concentrating, you know that?"

a faint blush, the barest hint of pink, dusted his cheeks.

"i’m not pretty," satoru mumbled, a knee-jerk protest, his eyes already drifting back to his notes. "i’m . . . i’m a force of nature. a towering intellect. pretty is a—hey!"

you had done it again, this time placing a kiss on his forehead, right on the smooth skin just above his eyebrow. you felt his muscles relax under your lips, the tension melting away from his brow. you pulled back just enough to see his expression, a mix of surprised pleasure and growing bewilderment.

"what was that for?" satoru asked, and his voice was a little higher than usual.

"you had a wrinkle right there," you said, your voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. "from frowning. very bad for your skin. i’m just doing my duty as a concerned partner."

"my skin is flawless, thank you very much," he retorted, a familiar, defensive sass creeping into his voice.

but satoru’s blush was deepening, spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. he was trying to look affronted, but his eyes, still a little wide and glassy, were betraying him. he liked this. he liked the attention, the interruption.

you took a step closer, now standing directly beside his chair. you didn’t give satoru a chance to recover, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, right where his glasses sat. satoru’s skin was so warm.

"you’re getting sunspots," you murmured against satoru’s skin. "or . . . lamp-spots. from all this studying."

"i don’t get sunspots," satoru whispered, his voice cracking just a little.

his hands had come up, hovering uselessly in the air between you, like he wasn't sure whether to push you away or pull you closer. he settled on gently gripping your hips, his thumbs stroking the fabric of your shirt. it was a grounding gesture, his way of trying to maintain some semblance of control.

you hummed, a non-committal sound, and moved to press a kiss to his cheek. the skin there was impossibly soft, and you stayed there for a moment, feeling the warmth of his face, the slight stutter of his breath. he smelled like old books, coffee, and something uniquely, comfortingly satoru.

"you smell like a library," you whispered, your lips brushing against his cheekbone.

"is that a good thing?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

satoru’s long lashes were fluttering, his eyes closing on their own accord.

"the best thing," you confirmed, and then you were kissing his temple, the hinge of his jaw, a spot just below his ear that you knew was a hidden treasure trove of nerve endings.

your sweet boyfriend gasped, a sharp, involuntary sound, and his hips jerked in his chair. his fingers tightened on your hips, a silent plea for mercy you weren’t ready to give.

“y/n . . . " he breathed, a world of meaning in your name. it was a plea, a warning, an invitation.

you pulled back just enough to look at satoru, to take in the magnificent, messy picture he made — his glasses were now truly a catastrophe, hanging off one ear and precariously balanced on the other, the bridge resting on the very tip of his nose. satoru’s hair was even more of a mess, courtesy of his own restless fingers. his face was a symphony of reds and pinks, the blush spreading down his neck and disappearing into the collar of his hoodie. his lips were slightly parted, his breath coming in shallow, rapid pants.

satoru looked utterly, deliciously undone, and all from a few chaste kisses from you.

but the most potent detail was his eyes. that brilliant blue, usually so sharp, so full of clever mischief, was now dark, hazy, and completely, utterly focused on you.

there was a vulnerability there, a raw, unguarded longing that made your heart clench. he looked beautiful. he looked perfect. he looked like he was about to combust if you didn't kiss him properly, and the sight of him like this — this brilliant, beautiful boy, brought to such a tender, wanton state just by you — ignited a primal, possessive heat deep inside you.

"you’re so cute," you said, your voice dropping to a husky whisper. "and so, so fucking hot, you know that? you have no idea what you do to me, sitting here looking like a wet dream in your nerdy glasses."

satoru’s adam’s apple bobbed again.

"not a wet dream," he managed to choke out, a last-ditch effort at his usual bravado. he sounded so small, so out of his depth. so perfectly, wonderfully him. "just . . . a very tired student who really wants to—mmph!"

you had had enough of his adorable, pathetic protests.

you shut him up properly this time, cupping your boyfriend’s face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips to his. it was a soft, gentle kiss at first, a simple meeting of mouths, but the moment your lips touched, it was like a spark to tinder.

satoru made a small, desperate sound against your mouth, his hands relinquishing their grip on your hips to come up and bury themselves in your hair, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, his lips parting under yours, and you obliged him, your tongue brushing against his lower lip. he tasted like coffee and the faint, sweet residue of the cherry chapstick the young boy always used.

you broke the kiss, but only to tilt satoru’s head back, giving you better access to his neck.

you trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat, feeling his pulse hammering a frantic rhythm against your lips. you found his pulse point, that spot that was always so sensitive, and you sucked, gently, just enough to leave a faint, pink mark. satoru whimpered, a sound of pure pleasure, his hips bucking up against your thigh.

"y/n, please . . . " satoru gasped, his head falling back further, completely surrendering to your onslaught.

you nibbled on his collarbone, which was peeking out from the neckline of his hoodie. you kissed the hollow of satoru’s throat, the slope of his shoulder. you kissed satoru’s eyelids, his eyebrows, the tip of his nose again. you were everywhere, dotting satoru’s face and neck with a constellation of affection. you kissed the spot behind his ear, and he shivered violently. you pressed a kiss to his chin, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, teasing him, drawing it out, savouring every minute tremor and low moan you could coax from him.

satoru’s glasses had finally fallen off completely, landing with a soft clatter on the book he’d been reading.

he didn’t even notice. his world had narrowed to you, to the sensation of your lips on his skin. his hands were tangled in your hair, clutching at you, his fingers flexing and uncurling, a sign of his absolute, hopeless surrender.

satoru’s face was a mess of colour, his skin completely flushed, his lips swollen and slick, his eyes completely dazed. he was a masterpiece of flustered desire, a picture of devastating vulnerability that he only ever showed you. the smart, sharp-tongued genius was completely and utterly putty in your hands. it was a heady feeling, a powerful intoxication; satoru loved you, and you loved him, and in this moment, that was the only truth in the universe.

finally, you couldn't take the teasing anymore.

the sight of him, the taste of his skin, the sound of his desperate little gasps — it was all too much. you needed more. you needed to devour him completely.

you captured satoru’s mouth again, but this time, there was no gentleness; it was a hungry, possessive kiss, your tongue tangling with his, claiming him, tasting him. you poured all your pent-up adoration and want into that kiss, and he met you with equal fervour, his own tongue dancing with yours, his hands tightening in your hair. he kissed you back like you were the air he needed to breathe, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered; and to satoru, you were.

you broke the kiss only when you were both gasping for air, your foreheads resting together, your breath mingling in the small space between you.

satoru’s eyes were closed, his long, white lashes fanned out against his flushed cheeks. a single, soft, shaky moan escaped his lips, the sound of a man completely and utterly conquered.

"your face is sooo red," you whispered, a teasing lilt in your voice, though you were just as breathless as he was. "like a very pretty tomato."

he managed to crack one eye open, peering at you through his lashes. a weak, crooked grin spread across his face.

"you’re very mean," satoru mumbled, his voice hoarse. "and i love you."

you smiled, a genuine, heart-stopping smile that crinkled the corners of your pretty eyes. you leaned in, kissing the red tip of satoru’s nose again.

"i love you too, my nerdy, beautiful boy. now," you said, pulling back and looking pointedly at the scattered papers. "what was that paper on again? quantum . . . something?"

satoru groaned, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, his body completely slumping against yours in a heap of exhausted, contented defeat.

"i think i forgot," he mumbled into your shirt.

you laughed, a soft, happy sound, and pressed a kiss to the crown of satoru’s messy white hair.

"good," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him. "then take a break. study later."

you felt the smile spread against your shoulder as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

yeah . . . this was your favourite version of satoru, and you were never, ever going to get tired of it.