Archive of Our Own

Grace needs revenge.

Grace needs lots of revenge. He needs it like he needs air, at this point. It’s integral to his continued survival, if he’s going to make it to Erid as even a fraction of his former self. Who was he before he and Rocky began their nightly (and daily) escapades? He barely even knows who he was before he met Rocky to begin with. But to add on the fact that ever since that first intimate moment with Rocky he’s been getting his shit rocked six ways to Sunday on a consistent basis, he feels like he’s losing his grip on any reality where Rocky’s not buried deep inside him in some form or another.

Okay, yes, he’s being dramatic, but he really wants to find a way to dominate Rocky. He loves being submissive to him—it’s addicting, honestly—but it also comes as a slight surprise to him that he is so submissive. He can’t really compare it to his experiences back home, unfortunately, because he found that he felt uncomfortable in literally any sexual situation with anyone, whether he was a dom or a sub. Trying to screw people from a species you’re apparently not all that attracted to will do that.

So Grace wants to have the upper hand the next time they fuck. Why does that idea seem so far out of reach? He sticks the pen he’s holding uselessly over a blank piece of paper between his teeth and lightly chews on it, staring at the paper in front of him. The original plan was to brainstorm ways he could catch Rocky off guard, shake him up a bit, and make him regret all those times he called Grace his plaything by using him instead. But he doubts that writing IDEAS FOR DOMMING ROCKY at the top would go over well with Rocky if he found it, and he absolutely would find it some way or another. Grace can hear the chirping of his laughter now.

The thing is, Grace has never actually tried to initiate taking control. Sure, sometimes he’ll feign attempts at defying Rocky’s orders when they’re fooling around, but that’s just so Rocky will double down and get more insistent with him that he do exactly as he says. It works out well for Grace to be a bit of a brat to Rocky every now and then. He bites down harder on the pen, unfocusing his vision as he zones out, imagining the way Rocky’s claws had pressed around his throat the last time—

“What Grace thinking about, question?” 

Grace jumps, pen falling from his lips with a clatter onto the table. His eyes meet Rocky, clad in his xenonite suit, and he exhales in relief with a hand clasped to his chest. 

“Jesus,” he laughs lightly. “Y’know, at least in your ball, I can hear you coming even when I’m not fully there. Got me clutching my pearls over here.”

“Grace scares easily,” Rocky says. “Not my fault. But Rocky not without mercy. Will walk with big, loud steps from now on so Grace will know I am coming even with bad human hearing.”

Grace rolls his eyes. “My hearing is just fine, thank you,” he says pointedly. 

“So what Grace thinking about to distract so much?” 

He pauses, opening and closing his mouth like a dumbstruck fish as he tries to come up with something, anything to tell Rocky that isn’t the truth. He spins back around in his chair to face the table with his blank piece of paper. Right. He doesn’t even have any work to show for himself.

“Oh, you know,” he says casually, drumming his fingers on the table. “Just what I’m gonna do for lunch.”

“Grace know what to do for lunch.” Rocky’s tone carries a slight attitude to it. “Same thing as you eat every day. Tube paste. Should not require so much brain power that you don’t hear Rocky coming.”

“I’m almost out of tube paste meals,” Grace says, pointing the pen at Rocky. “Then I’m gonna have to think about eating coma slurry every day. That’s gonna be a lot of me mentally hyping myself up.”

“Grace thinking about last time we had sex,” Rocky says bluntly. Then, for added measure, “Statement.”

Grace flushes. “I absolutely was not.”

“Why not, question? Bad sex? Forgettable sex, question?” Rocky huffs.

“Wh— no! No, just—”

“Grace had better, question?”

“Okay, you know that’s just patently untrue—”

“First time you let Rocky inside!” Rocky stomps his foot for emphasis. “Took much preparation, days days days of stretching, Rocky so patient so I would not hurt fragile Grace, then you come harder than ever. Grace not like fingers in mouth? Grace not like claw around thr—”

“Rocky!” Grace interrupts, holding his hands up in defense. He’s holding back laughter with every fiber of his being, knowing that Rocky is being dramatic for effect. It’s his favorite way to screw with Grace these days. The part that really tends to do Grace in is the moment that Rocky puts two hands on his non-existent hips, really attempting to drive home whatever point he’s trying to make. “You got me, bud, I was thinking about the last time we had sex. There. Are you happy now? Cripes almighty.”

Rocky lowers himself, seemingly pleased with Grace’s reply. “Good good good. Rocky likes knowing Grace is thinking about this.”

“You’re a monster, have I ever told you that?” Grace stands, stretching his arms high above his head and arching his back, feeling the pop pop pop of his spine. Rocky honks in distress.

“Grace calls me a monster then proceeds to snap weak human bones for fun,” he says, shivering in disgust. 

A grin stretches across Grace’s face, and he looks at Rocky as he cocks his head to one side—crack!—then cocks it to the other—crack!—and watches as Rocky flails in horror, carapace shaking from side to side in disbelief.

“Do you want me to put you in airlock and open door, question?” Rocky smacks one of Grace’s calves as he walks by, following him close behind. “Rocky will do it! Not empty threat!”

Laughing wholeheartedly now, Grace makes his way toward the dormitory, resisting the urge to pop each of his knuckles slowly and individually. He fights back a yawn, eyes welling up as he fails to do so. He’s been taking more naps than usual lately, his lack of food resulting in increased fatigue. Mary won’t give him his tube paste meal for another hour or so in accordance with his ration rules, and he doesn’t have any real work to do, so he might as well squeeze a quick sleep in while he can without guilt.

“How about Rocky takes a quick break?” Grace suggests, smiling in amusement at his mate. He pulls his quilt back off the mattress, sitting on the edge of it to kick off his shoes. 

Rocky grumbles to himself, “Nothing to take break from. Lazy lazy lazy.”

“You like being lazy with me,” Grace says through another yawn. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m basically wasting away, here.”

“Grace not allowed to make jokes like that. Statement.” Rocky stomps his foot. “Go sleep. I watch.”

As Grace’s head hits the pillow, he feels Rocky climb up onto the bed with him, allowing Grace to curl into his side against the heat of his body through the suit. He clunks his forehead against his carapace, a silent ask for Rocky to run his fingers through his hair. 

“Silly,” Rocky sings quietly, giving in easily to Grace’s request. His claws scratch over his scalp, another hand slipping under his shirt to rest on his lower back. Grace sighs, content. “Rocky cannot stay mad at Grace. Even when Grace make body sound bad on purpose.”

One final, soft laugh escapes Grace before sleep blissfully takes him under.

-

It’s not uncommon these days for Grace to wake up at least half-hard, even after a short nap. He had expected to sleep until Mary’s food alarm went off, but he finds himself slowly returning to consciousness to the sound of nothing but the soft puffs of Rocky’s vents fluctuating. He stretches, feeling Rocky’s hand on his back begin to draw slow circles into his skin. It feels so nice, so he rolls over onto his stomach to give Rocky better access. He realizes, with a tired roll of his eyes, that he’s semi-erect and now completely pressed into the mattress. He tries to recall any suggestive dreams he might have had and feels like there was definitely something there, but they vanish from his memory before he can grasp them.

Two of Rocky’s hands push under his shirt, tickling his skin as he drags them lightly, teasingly, upwards toward his neck. Then, he drags them back down, skimming along his spine as he does so. Sometimes this act is nothing more than a means to comfort Grace, to help him relax and breathe a little easier. Other times—like the first time—it’s meant to get a rise out of him. This seems to be one of those times, with the way Rocky’s claws linger along his waistline every time he drags them back down, curling over his hips with feather light touches. Grace lets out a shaky sigh, his hips involuntarily rolling into the mattress as Rocky tickles a particularly sensitive spot on his lower back. 

“What Grace want, question?” Rocky’s voice comes low and soft, a tone that Grace learned very quickly is meant to be, and succeeds in being, seductive. 

Grace nods against his pillow, eyes still squeezed shut. He doesn’t want to lose focus on this moment.

“Grace must use words,” Rocky says. “Or Rocky will not know what Grace wants.”

“Hmmng,” Grace says coherently. He swallows. “Keep touching me, please. Feels good.”

He feels Rocky’s hands resume their movements, gliding along his back, tapping along his ribs. This is his favorite foreplay— the way he feels like he’s being worshipped, the way it seems like Rocky is just drinking him in despite knowing him inside and out now, like he thinks Grace is something to be revered… He doesn’t know how he could ever get enough of it.
“Love Grace,” Rocky croons. “Love hearing Grace’s body get loud loud loud when Rocky touches.”

Grace shivers as he grinds into the mattress again, his cock standing at full attention and in need of some friction. He feels Rocky shift, one of his arms wiggling under Grace’s hips and suddenly he’s being hoisted butt first into the air, forced onto his knees. He gasps against his pillow, eyes popping open in surprise. He’s never— they’ve never gone this route before, this position. Grace is always on his back, thighs spread and knees tucked to his chest, assumedly so that Rocky can get a better look at him. He’s not sure if it makes much of a difference, honestly, but there have been no complaints from either party. Grace likes Rocky hovering over him, likes having his thighs held apart while Rocky strokes him to completion. Or, like last time, being fucked within an inch of his life while Rocky shoved his fingers down Grace’s throat.

This, though, Grace thinks as Rocky effortlessly pulls his sweatpants and boxers down until Grace is kicking them off at the last bit, this is vulnerable. He feels so exposed. 

“Rocky,” he whimpers, his cock hanging hard and flushed between his legs. “Sweetheart, could you—”

“Grace will wait,” Rocky says, and Grace bites down on his tongue. “New position, Rocky wants to observe.”

Grace doesn’t know how, less than an hour ago, he was even considering trying to be the dominant one. He’s trembling with the need to be touched, whimpering like a dog, and face down, ass up on his bed. The idea of trying to change the roles now is laughable.

Rocky sits behind Grace, pushing his knees just a bit farther apart to adjust for Rocky’s body. He feels Rocky’s hands grip the backs of his thighs, kneading the flesh there as he makes his way up. When they find his ass, Grace flushes beet red as Rocky squeezes and spreads him open. 

“So soft,” Rocky trills. “Softest part of Grace’s body. Love love love.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for an ass man,” Grace huffs out a laugh. 

“Do not understand,” Rocky replies, pinching one of Grace’s cheeks. He yelps. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Grace says, burying his face in his pillow for a moment while Rocky takes his time just feeling him. “Can you please just— just touch me, Rocky, you’re killing me here.”

“Hmm,” Rocky hums, and Grace feels the vibration of it in the deepest parts of him, making his hole clench around nothing. “Since Grace ask so nicely. But I have request.”

Rocky reaches under Grace’s pillow and pulls out a spare packet of medical lube they’d shoved underneath it during their last session, and Grace is thankful that they’d been too lazy to actually put it away. Before he can inquire further into what Rocky’s request might be, he feels a warm, wet digit probing at his entrance, sending another rush of arousal straight to his cock. He’s got to be leaking at this point, dripping onto the sheets. All he wants is to wrap a hand around himself, but he knows if he does that, Rocky will find some way to restrain him. Which might not be the worst— no, not yet, find out what Rocky’s plan is first.

Rocky’s finger presses in, wider than any of Grace’s so the immediate stretch is already pretty intense, but they have been practicing and preparing so it’s not nearly as bad as it could be. Something about this position and the way that Grace’s back is arched, his everything on display for Rocky makes him feel so lightheaded with pleasure that the pain is barely an afterthought. 

“Good Grace, good good good,” Rocky purrs. “Grace’s hole takes Rocky’s fingers so well, so tighthotwet—”

Grace moans as Rocky begins slowly thrusting his finger in and out. “Nnngh, just— just for you, Rock.”

“Grace can take another?” Rocky asks, but Grace knows he’s not really asking. He nods against his pillow, keening as Rocky inserts another thick finger, prying him open with surprising ease. “Want Grace to take Rocky again. Take from this position.”

“God, please Rock,” Grace chokes out. He’s going to pass out at this rate from just how desperate he is to have Rocky inside him, rearranging his guts to fit him. “Want that so bad, so so so bad—”

“Rocky’s request,” he says, “is put eggs in Grace this time. Grace put eggs in me plenty of times, Rocky’s turn now.”

Grace nearly shouts as Rocky’s third claw enters him, and he can barely comprehend what the Eridian is telling him as his entire fist is basically inside him at this point. Through his haze, he begins to process what Rocky is suggesting, and he nearly comes untouched right then and there.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” he groans out, each yes punctuated by a thrust of Rocky’s fingers inside him, lovingly hitting his prostate. 

“Been holding onto eggs for long time,” Rocky says, whining. “Too too too long. Need to get them out, give Grace babies.”

Grace puffs out a breath, bunching his hands into the sheets below him and pushing himself up onto his forearms. He cranes his neck around to try and get a look at Rocky, nearly flopping right back down in a horny daze from the blurry sight behind him. Rocky’s got one hand gripping his ass, and another thrusting in and out of him, his vents working overtime. What he really wishes he had his glasses on for, though, is the sight of Rocky’s ovipositor beginning to unsheathe itself, pale purple and leaking liquid mercury in the suit. His breathing picks up, cock pulsing between his legs with unbridled need. He lets out an obscene moan at the sight, hips bucking into Rocky’s thrusts. 

“Grace take Rocky’s eggs,” Rocky says, rumbling deeply. “Command.”

“Yeah, Rock, yeah,” Grace breathes, eyes welling up from desperation alone. He feels Rocky withdraw his fingers and keens at the emptiness he’s left with, but it doesn’t last long— Rocky’s length is pressing against his hole, pushing slowly, so slowly, inside him. The stretch is a welcome sensation; Grace would do anything at this point to feel full again. “Oh, Jesus, fuck— Rocky, feels so good, you fill me up so good—”

Rocky hums, sending vibrations through Grace that leave him trembling. Rocky seats himself fully inside Grace, a pleased whistle emanating from him. Grace’s hips ache from where Rocky has an ironclad grip on him, claws digging into his flesh in a way that’s sure to leave bruises. He doesn’t care. He wants them, wants echoes of Rocky littered across his body. 

“Gracegracegrace, my Grace, such a good mate,” Rocky babbles, thrusting slowly inside Grace, ovipositor sliding easily in and out. “Will take eggs, command, will take eggs so so well, make Rocky feel so good.”

“I can— I can take them,” Grace pants, watching over his shoulder as Rocky’s length disappears inside of him over and over again. “Wanna take them, please, baby, give them to me, Rocky—”

Grace gasps as he feels a hand slide into his hair, applying pressure until he’s forced to lay his head back down, face half smushed into his pillow as Rocky holds him there. He sobs, overwhelmed in a way he’s never felt before. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s perfect. 

“Rocky,” he rasps, “n-need you to touch me, I-I can’t do it anymore, please please please—”

“After Grace takes my eggs,” Rocky says. “Rocky will touch then, if you are good.”

Grace feels tears trickle onto the pillow he’s currently being held against, and he squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “I’ll be s-so good, ah— I promise, Rock, I’ll take them.”

A deep, guttural sound emanates from Rocky, and Grace can feel his entire frame start to shake, his thrusts becoming more erratic by the second. He needs this, needs Rocky to lose it and fill him up, knock him up—

He thinks that maybe he was thinking out loud, because Rocky lets out a series of high-pitched vocalizations, and Grace catches what sounds like, “Give Grace babies, make you full full full so full of Rocky, Grace made for me and made for me to breed,” in between his notes. 

“Made for you, Rock,” Grace cries. “Give me everything, sweetheart, pleasepleaseplease—”

Rocky stalls, whistling as he pours himself inside Grace. It’s so warm, and Grace wishes more than anything that he could survive this without Rocky in the suit. He wants to feel all of him more than he wants to breathe.

It doesn’t stop, the warmth, and Grace lets out a pathetic whine as he feels pressure building inside of him, the first egg making its way down. He would guess it’s about the size of a golf ball, going off sensation alone. It’s not long before he feels another, and another, and he thinks that maybe he bit off more than he can chew. It’s not a bad feeling by any means, quite the contrary; but Grace has never been this full in his life and it invokes a sense of panic deep within him.

“Shh, Grace,” Rocky hushes him, the claw in his hair no longer holding him down. Instead, it gently combs through his tussled hair, comforting him. “Heart rate get too fast. Do not panic, only one more egg. My perfect Grace can take it, yes? Be good mate for Rocky?”

Grace nods, whimpering in response. He loves Rocky so much, so much it hurts, and right now it’s all he can feel. His initial wave of panic subsides into a dull ache in his chest, one that is a result of the blatant affection he has for his mate. He feels a light thunk inside him as the last of Rocky’s eggs is released, and he exhales with relief. 

True to his word, Rocky removes his claw from Grace’s hair entirely and reaches under him, wrapping it around his achingly hard cock, using the copious amounts of precum dripping out of him for lubrication. Grace cries out, bucking into Rocky’s hand, and he barely lasts three strokes before he’s coming harder than he ever has before. He sobs through the best orgasm of his life, letting Rocky stroke him through it until he has nothing left to give. It takes everything in him not to collapse right then and there.

“Mmm, love you, Rock,” he says weakly, cherishing the sensation of Rocky sitting inside him for the moment. 

“Love Grace as well,” Rocky says softly. He begins to retract, his length slipping out with relative ease, taking his eggs with it. Grace is empty, clenching around nothing, and he finds that he misses being so obscenely full. He barely has half a mind to comprehend anything, and allows Rocky to gently lay him on his side, out of the way of his mess he left on the sheets. His eyes close, and he feels Rocky shift off of the mattress.

 “Grace rest,” Rocky says, setting a hand tenderly on the side of his face. “Rocky clean up, then I come back to watch. Will be fast.”

Grace nods, happy to oblige. He briefly registers Rocky leaving and returning with towels, gently cleaning him up and wiping the sweat from his forehead, then laying a fresh towel down on the sheets over his mess. They’ll deal with laundry later.

He sleeps, deep and dreamless.

Grace hadn’t realized just how much Rocky’s need to release his eggs had been affecting his mood. It becomes apparent in the weeks following, Rocky’s attitude and demeanor quite a bit lighter than Grace has seen in some time. He must have been in a decent amount of discomfort and even pain before then, and it breaks Grace’s heart to think that he’d been holding off on account of Grace’s comfort. Of course, it’s definitely appreciated, because Grace thinks that if they had tried that any earlier, he would have had a legitimate medical emergency as a result. But still, he can’t stand that Rocky had been in enough pain for it to affect him in such a way, and Grace didn’t even have the decency to notice.

Which is why, after several weeks of Rocky’s chipper attitude, he makes darn well sure to take note when Rocky starts acting like Grace did something to personally offend him. He’s been grumbling to himself in tones so low Grace can’t make out half the words he’s saying, spending less time in his suit and opting instead to fumble around in his ball again, and giving Grace short, clipped responses when actually speaking to him. There are genuine apologies in between, almost like Rocky is aware of whatever mood swings he’s experiencing. Over the last seven days, they’ve only had sex once and Rocky didn’t really seem all that into it. Grace has been doing his best to pretend like it isn’t stressing him out, but he doubts he can hide the way his pulse speeds up when his thoughts spiral out of control. 

Was Rocky getting tired of Grace? They’ve only been mates for a little over a year, and they’ve never had any real fights, never felt the need to have extended time away from each other—which was a relief, given their extremely limited space—and they’ve never gone to bed angry. Every logical part of Grace’s brain is telling him that there’s no reason for Rocky to have gotten tired or sick of him, but the emotional, irrational side of him won’t stop rearing its ugly head to make him doubt. 

He doesn’t think Rocky needs to release any eggs again so soon after last time. That process, he learned, could have been a lot more awkward and painful if Rocky had waited much longer. Probably why he was so adamant about getting Grace to think about their previous time together; he was trying to get him in the mood. Grace doesn’t blame him. He’d really rather not have to reach inside of Rocky and yank any old, calcified eggs out of him any time soon. Or ever.

Grace sighs from where he sits on his bed, forcing down the remainder of his tube paste. It’s difficult to stomach these days. His weight has hit a plateau, thankfully, not having changed much since Rocky first noticed and traced over his newly protruding bones. He has about a year’s worth of tube food left, and the remaining two-ish years will be coma slurry after that. His stomach hurts just thinking about it, but his stomach hurts just as much thinking about Rocky right now. He’d practically kicked him out of the lab a little less than an hour ago, mumbling something about how he needed to do some suit repairs and wanted some peace and quiet. 

“I mean, me moving to another room isn’t gonna help that much,” Grace had said, knowingly treading on thin ice. 

“Rocky can pretend,” Rocky replied stiffly. “Need time alone.”

Grace had stared at him for a moment, fighting back stupid, frustrated tears as he tried to think of what in god’s name he could have done to make Rocky so upset. He threw up his hands, not even bothering to reply before leaving the lab and making his way to the bedroom.

And now, he tries not to let the feeling of hope work its way too far into his chest as he hears Rocky come tapping towards the bedroom in his newly repaired suit. Grace sits up, looking at Rocky with a mostly blank expression save for the slight crease in his brow. Rocky is fidgeting, slowly approaching Grace. He stops next to his bed, and there’s a beat of silence before he suddenly lets out a woeful groan, flopping onto the floor in shame.

“Apology,” he says quietly. Then, more forcefully, “Apology apology apology. Grace has been very patient with Rocky, and Rocky is being ungrateful.”

Grace blinks, his heart clenching. “Hey, it’s okay, Rock,” he reaches down and places a hand on Rocky’s carapace, smoothing his thumb over it. “I guess I just… I don’t know what I’m being patient for. Whatever it is, I do want to help, but you’re not really giving me a whole lot to work with here.”

Rocky huffs in frustration. “Want to tell Grace,” he admits. “Do not know how. But want to tell Grace very badly.”

Grace’s stomach drops, a wave of anxiety washing over him. “Is it something… bad?”

“No!” Rocky says, stomping his foot. He pauses, shrinking away from Grace’s hand a bit. “Yes. I… do not know. Rocky not sure how Grace will react.”

Grace swallows nervously, telling himself internally that it probably isn’t anything bad, and Rocky is just as much of an overthinker as Grace is. He moves over on the bed, lying on his side and patting the space he’s made for Rocky. “Come up, please?” He waits for Rocky to climb uncertainly onto the bed with him, slotting himself into Grace’s side and vibrating anxiously. Grace gingerly taps the engravings on Rocky’s arms, dancing his fingertips across them. Rocky shudders. “Can you please tell me? You know me, Rock. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”

Rocky is quiet for a minute before letting out a sigh, his vents quivering. “Grace touch Rocky, request?” 

Grace cocks his head, confused. “Sure, sweetheart. You know I’ll touch you however you want.” 

Rocky whines. “That is problem,” he says. “Rocky not want to tell Grace what to do. Want Grace to tell Rocky what to do. This time.”

Oh. Oh.

A blank sheet of paper with the ghost of an idea flashes through Grace’s mind.

“You mean— you want me to… take charge?” Grace asks, his fingers hovering over Rocky’s arms, tapping paused. 

Rocky looks like he wants to sink into the mattress. Grace doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look this embarrassed before. It’s breaking his heart. “Is stupid idea. Rocky know Grace not want.”

“Wait, whoa, hold your horses,” Grace says, propping himself up on his elbow a little further. His heart is hammering in his chest. “That’s not— that’s not really the problem, Rock. I thought you didn’t want to, uh, y’know. Be submissive like that.”

“Rocky with Grace is… different,” Rocky says quietly. “Rocky likes being in control with Grace. Likes seeing Grace get stupid with want.”

Grace flushes, smiling. 

“Like that,” Rocky chirps. “Is good to make Grace into leakywetmess. But, if I am honest, Rocky wants that too. Is something I miss from home.”

Grace takes a second to process that statement. Something he misses from home? What does he—

“You’re submissive with Adrian,” Grace says in awe. He resumes his tapping on Rocky’s arm, the tension beginning to leave his own body now that he’s starting to put the pieces together. Rocky really is an overthinker. “Am I wrong?”

Another shameful whine from Rocky. “Grace is correct.”

Grace almost chuckles at his reaction. “Why are you so ashamed of that? There’s nothing bad about wanting to let the other person take control.”

“No shame about that,” Rocky says with a shake of his carapace. “Worry Grace will think I want Adrian more. Rocky does not want you to feel… what is phrase… second best?”

Grace does let out a small laugh at that. Oh, how cute. “Rocky, I know you love Adrian,” he says, voice soft. “But I know you love me, too, just as much. Even if you didn’t, I would understand.”

“Rocky does love Grace just as much!” Rocky insists, tone stern. “Did not want you to think you are not good enough, or that Rocky needs more.”

“You don’t need more, Rock,” Grace says, voice low. He taps his fingers down to Rocky’s hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing them lightly against the tips of his claws. “You just need different.”

Rocky’s vents puff, his frame going rigid. “Just need different, yes. Grace understand, question?”

Grace nods. “I understand, sweetheart. And if you just straight up miss Adrian too, that’s okay. I know you do.”

Rocky lets out a pitiful sound, and Grace fights the urge to grab him and smother him with kisses until he shoves Grace off of him in disgust. Instead, Grace kisses each of his claws on one hand, then reaches down for another, and kisses those too. 

“Rocky misses Adrian much,” he says, vocals trembling. “Very very very much.”

Grace smiles, listening to the way Rocky’s already shaking for him. He was so worried about this weeks ago when he’d been trying to come up with a way to potentially dominate Rocky. And now here he is, settling into the role of it with surprising ease, the sight and sound of Rocky being so vulnerable and needy waking up some side of him he wasn’t truly aware he had. He could kick himself for having been so unsure before.

“I’m sure they miss you too,” he croons. “Do you think they thought about you? In the same way you’re thinking about them?”

“I hope so.” Rocky wiggles his fingers lightly in Grace’s hand. “Adrian very good at holding Rocky down and making Rocky do what they want. Did not think Grace would be very good at this.”

Grace scowls, pushing himself to sit up so he’s looking down at Rocky now. “Hey, I may not be as strong as you guys, but I have other tricks up my sleeve.”

“Oh?” Rocky coos. “What does Grace think—”

Grace slides himself off the bed, kneeling down on the cold floor in front of Rocky. He grins, bringing one of Rocky’s hands back to his mouth and sucking a finger into it. Rocky goes stock-still, a low frequency emitting from him that Grace can feel in his teeth. He swirls his tongue around Rocky’s claw a few times, then pops it out of his mouth, leaving the tip of it resting on his lips. 

“If you want me to do anything,” Grace says, “then you’re going to have to be a little bit nicer to me.”

Grace may not possess the physical strength needed to pin Rocky down, or restrain him in any way, but he certainly has the mental fortitude to withhold pleasure as punishment. Does he want more than anything right now to touch, to lick, to ruin Rocky in whatever ways possible? Absolutely he does, but if Rocky needs him to lead this time, then lead he shall.

“Grace cannot blame me for feeling like this,” Rocky says irritably. “Humans fragile, weak, not strong enough to overpower Eridian like Rocky. Rocky does not understand how Grace could ever—”

A noise of surprise leaves Rocky as he’s caught entirely off guard by Grace swiftly placing one hand on the top of his carapace and pulling down, forcing Rocky to the edge of the mattress, the underside of him exposed. The seam there has already begun to crack open, a light stream of mercury leaking out. 

“What was that about humans being weak?” Grace teases, smirking as he traces a finger over Rocky’s seam.

Rocky squeaks. “Rocky was not prepared,” he says defensively. “I only let Grace do that. Statement.”

Grace hums in response, watching as the seam splits open further at his touch. And Rocky calls him easy. 

There’s a part of him that’s curious about something. While Grace—and most humans, really—are partial to soft, soothing touches, a finger tracing or rubbing over their skin, Rocky has made it clear that his kind prefers more of a tapping motion. It has the same effect on Rocky that Grace experiences whenever Rocky drags his fingers over his flesh. It can be soothing, or if the mood is right, it can be incredibly arousing for him. The one thing that Grace knows is an instant turn on for Rocky, however, is a flick of his fingers. The slight force of it, the suddenness, it makes Rocky short circuit.

Grace hovers his fingers over Rocky’s seam, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. It probably won’t hurt him, right? Given the way he’s reacted to it in the past? But then, he’s never done that there. Maybe it’s effectively the same thing as spanking, Grace thinks. But he doesn’t know if Rocky’s into that sort of thing. 

Considering what Rocky has confessed about his relationship with Adrian, though, he thinks he has a pretty good chance of this going over well.

Grace flicks his finger against Rocky’s seam, and Rocky melts, limbs going limp. He opens even further for Grace, mercury practically gushing out of him. 

“G-Grace,” Rocky’s voice trembles. “Do that again.”

Grace smiles. “Do that again, what?”

Rocky whistles in frustration. “Do that again please.”

Satisfied, Grace flicks the edge of his opening again, making Rocky squeal in what he hopes is pleasure. He takes a moment to repeat that motion, traveling around his splitting seam until he’s fully open for Grace. The little sounds he’s emitting aren’t even words, he thinks, just the Eridian equivalent of moans. Grace places a hand on his cock through his pants, grinding up into the much needed friction. 

“Tell me more about Adrian,” Grace says, staring at the soft insides of Rocky’s hole with half-lidded eyes. There are two openings; one being for feeding, the other for reproduction. In the same way that his ovipositor can emerge from that opening, it’s also made to take them. Grace leans in, exhaling unsteadily over Rocky’s entrance. He can feel the heat emanating from here. He’s gone down on Rocky before, but never while he’s been in charge. It’s doing things to him he didn’t even know were possible.

“Grace… want that, question?” Rocky asks uncertainly.

“Mhmm.” Grace nods and dips his tongue into Rocky, still amazed at how easily the xenonite suit gives into the pressure applied without breaking. Rocky gasps at the sensation. “Tell me about what they like to do to you. What you like them to do to you.”

Rocky trills in relief, one of his claws coming up to gently rest on the back of Grace’s head as he continues to lick around Rocky’s entrance. He commends him for not immediately trying to shove Grace’s face in further like he usually does when he’s the one leading. “Adrian—” Rocky starts, voice shaky. He seems to catch his breath, and continues, “Adrian much bigger than Rocky. Much much much bigger. Can easily hold me down. Feels nice.”

Grace raises an eyebrow in interest. “How much bigger?” he asks, flicking his tongue against the tight opening. “Like my height?”

“Bigger than Grace,” Rocky says, shaking his carapace. “Several feet taller. Best height comparison is Earth animal called bear.”

Grace pulls back in shock, blinking up at Rocky. “Like… what kind of bear?”

“Grizzly bear.”

Grace swallows. “Oh my god.”

“Does this upset Grace, question?”

“Oh, jeez, no,” Grace assures Rocky, attempting to regain his composure. He can’t think too hard about the fact that his cock throbbed at the idea of watching Rocky get taken by an Eridian that big. He especially can’t think too hard about how it throbbed again at the idea of Adrian towering over him—

“That’s just… really hot, Rock,” he admits, pressing a finger to Rocky’s hole and letting it slide in. Rocky whines. “You like being held down by them, huh? Are you even strong enough to fight against them?”

“No, am not able to fight Adrian off even if I tried,” Rocky says, and Grace shivers at that. “Adrian likes it when Rocky tries, though. Makes them call Rocky names.”

“Names? Like what?” Grace asks, breathing heavy. He adds another finger, thrusting them in and out of Rocky. His voice is music to his ears. 

“Not important,” Rocky says, and Grace detects shame in his tone once again. He grins. 

“You don’t get to decide that,” Grace chides, ceasing his motions inside of Rocky. Rocky whines again desperately. “What. Do. They. Call you?”

The way Rocky is shaking beneath Grace’s gaze right now, his voice trembling and vents fluttering with the effort of staying cool, Grace feels drunk on this. He’s never felt this confident in his ability to be the dominant partner before, and he’s so thankful that Rocky decided to give up the ghost and just tell him what was wrong. 

“They—they call me weak,” Rocky says, voice small. “Pathetic. S…Soft.”

Grace resumes fingering Rocky, adding a third finger as a reward. The hand in his hair clenches around the strands, and Grace does his best to keep himself from moaning. “Oh, so they call you everything you call me,” he says instead. “And you didn’t want to tell me because you thought I might look at you differently.”

“Grace is still softer!” Rocky whimpers. “Did not want Grace to think Rocky is weak.”

“Don’t worry, angel,” Grace says softly. “I would never.” 

Rocky tenses up around Grace’s fingers, and the hand in his hair tightens even further, and Grace forces himself to slow down again. He doesn’t want Rocky coming just yet, not when he has more he wants to know.

“Grace!” Rocky cries, trying to fuck himself down onto Grace’s fingers when he won’t give him anymore. “Moremoremore, please more, Rocky wants more—”

God, Grace can’t take it anymore. He stands himself up carefully, making sure not to rush himself too much so he doesn’t have another syncope episode in the middle of sex again. That was a mood killer. His hands shake as he shucks his pants and boxers off, then his shirt, tossing them somewhere across the room. He sets a hand on Rocky’s carapace to help steady himself, lifting a leg to rest his knee at Rocky’s side, his other foot planted firmly on the floor. He holds his flushed cock in his other hand and gives it a few good, firm strokes, smearing the precum beaded at the tip of it down his shaft. It’s not quite enough, and he doesn’t have lube nearby, so he spits into his hand and uses that to slick himself the rest of the way. 

Rocky whistles at that. He always likes it when Grace uses his spit as lube, even though it’s disgusting. Because it’s disgusting.

He angles his cock at Rocky’s entrance, pushing in slow and torturous, eyes rolling back in his head as he feels Rocky completely envelop him in his heat. Rocky gasps and flails until two of his hands find purchase on Grace’s forearms, claws digging in so deep he knows he’s going to have bruises later. That’s more than okay with him, he thinks headily. 

“You feel so good, Rock,” Grace rumbles, allowing himself to stay fully seated inside of Rocky for a moment. “Always so good around my cock.”

“Grace,” Rocky breathes, “my Grace, my Grace, so big inside me.”

Grace is always flattered by Rocky’s description of his dick. He’s aware that he’s… larger than average. A humble eight inches. Rocky’s got him beat in terms of length and girth, and now that he knows how big Adrian is—

“I’ll bet Adrian is bigger,” he murmurs. He pulls back until only the tip of his cock is inside Rocky. “Do they fill you up like I can? I’ll bet you’re full to bursting when they’re inside you.”

Rocky lets out a wail in a frequency that Grace almost can’t hear. He thrusts back inside him, allowing himself to finally have his way, needing to feel Rocky as deeply as he can. 

“Rocky s-smaller than average Eridian,” he manages to say between Grace’s thrusts. “Adrian only fit part of reproductive organ inside. Grace can fit all, feels so so so good. Like Grace made for me.”

Grace moans, bracing his forearm on Rocky’s carapace while Rocky continues to hold onto him, claw digging into his burn scar deliciously. He glances at it, briefly thinking about just how right Rocky is. They are made for each other. In every possible way, Grace was made for Rocky and Rocky for Grace, the Petrova line their red string of fate that brought them together.

“I am made for you, Rock,” he grits out, the heat in his gut building rapidly with each rut of his hips. “God, fuck, I— I wanna watch Adrian fuck you, Rocky, wanna watch you get held down and—mmhn, watch them tell you what to do, how good you’re taking it, stretching you out.”

“Adrian will let G-Grace join, too,” Rocky says, and Grace gasps, fingernails digging into his carapace. “Would want to take both of us, see Grace get stupid from Rocky first, then make both of us stupid—”

“Yeah? Fuck, Rocky,” Grace inhales sharply, fighting against every cell in his body so he doesn’t come before his mate. “You want Adrian to watch us? Want them to watch you breed me?” He leans down as close as he can get to Rocky’s carapace, hunched over him entirely, thrusts erratic. He lowers his voice to a growl. “You want them to breed me?”

“♫♩♫♬♪♪!” Rocky cries, clenching down on Grace like his life depends on it and shaking, shaking, shaking as mercury gushes in the suit over Grace’s cock. Grace follows almost immediately after, fucking into Rocky mercilessly and only stilling when he comes. A broken moan escapes him, Rocky milking him through his orgasm and it’s all Grace can do to keep himself upright. 

“Grace,” Rocky trills weakly. “Grace slipping, get on bed.”

Grace nods, somehow managing to hoist himself up onto the mattress. He slowly, ever so slowly, slips out of Rocky, shuddering at the sensation. 

“So,” he says through a yawn, “how’d I do as a first time dom?”

Rocky lets out a tired, chirping laugh. “Good good good. Very good. Amaze, even. Big apology, did not know Grace could do that.”

Grace snorts. He curls himself around Rocky, naked and just starting to cool down. The heat of Rocky through his suit is lovely right now. “Apology accepted, because I didn’t know I could do that either.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, simply enjoying the sounds of each other breathing. 

“Hey, Rocky?”

“Yes, Grace, question?”

“I know I said a lot of stuff, and I meant all of it, but if Adrian can barely fit in you, how are they going to fit inside me?”

“Grace and Rocky still have lots of time to prepare. No worry pretty little human head.”

Grace supposes that’s the best he can really do.