Archive of Our Own

Humans, from what Rocky’s learned, are rather emotionally volatile. At least Grace certainly is.

Grace refers to these abrupt changes as “mood swings,” and explains that it’s part brain chemistry, part habit from his youth, and a good deal trauma from getting launched into space to die against his will.

This all makes sense. For what he lacks in memory, he’s always excelled in logic.

Still, the moods worry Rocky. In Grace’s defense he’s calmed significantly since the rescue; Rocky insisted that the Eridians would be grateful for his sacrifice and would find a way to help him. He doesn’t know for sure what that will look like, but he’s certain they’ll try.

In the last few weeks the two space travelers have settled into their journey, more or less. Grace seems more restless, though, now that their initial mission is complete. For Rocky it’s just more time to prepare. He keeps track of how their ship is running, comes up with ideas for improvement, fixes what needs fixing. He’d spent decades alone on his own ship doing the same, so it’s familiar. And it’s really nice having some company now.

Humans seem to have shorter attention spans, though. Well, his human does. To his credit Grace always takes care of the Taumoeba, and spends a couple hours every day taking copious notes and observations on what he sees. Rocky’s pretty certain he’s trying to make sure it doesn’t evolve again (they’re both rather sensitive to the prospect of another escape, but there’s also making sure it will still eat the astrophage and survive on Threeworld).

Rocky asks him a lot of questions about what he’s writing; he’s curious, always has been. And it doesn’t get more interesting than learning alongside an alien being, especially one whose company he enjoys so much. It took him a while to realize that Grace needs space on occasion; he’s assured Rocky that “space” isn’t another way of saying they need massive distance between them, only that on occasion he enjoys being alone. This was difficult at first, since Eridians barely spend any time by themselves, and Rocky had suffered in solitude for so long after the deaths of his crew.

They’re figuring it out. When he needs space Grace watches stories on his Earth thinking machine, works in his lab, sleeps. Rocky takes that time to fix things and plan and, well…worry about Grace.

He’s just so soft and fragile; it’s shocking that humans can survive in any environment, let alone in space. And that’s another thing; their lifespans are so short! One wrong move and they’re just gone.

Rocky remembers when he first encountered Grace, that alien organ (which he now knows is the heart) pumping anxiously on the other side of the xenonite wall, wheezing sounds hissing from Grace’s orifices. The soft and fleshy exterior; all those openings and liquid had frankly repulsed him. They laughed about it later. Apparently human organs and insides are even softer and wetter and squishier, which Rocky suspected just by the sound of him. Grace conceded he probably seemed horrifying, like an Eridian walking around with their body turned inside out.

Now, though, Rocky thoroughly appreciates his human friend, even the soft and leaky parts. But he still worries for him.

He’s especially worried about Grace’s next spacewalk. The fishing expedition at Adrian had nearly killed them both. They’re so close to the end now; Rocky’s carapace actually shudders imagining another disaster like that, the rattling sound of it waking Grace in his bunk.

Rocky has a plan, though. They have enough time for him to trial some designs for dispensing their Taumoeba at Threeworld and their sun and the petrova line in between, and he’s determined to make sure the dropoff is as quick and safe as possible.

Grace stirs, stretching his limbs and squirming in his bed like he does every time he wakes. It takes some time before he starts thinking clearly, usually after eating. Rocky can hear him blinking slowly, shuffling around for his things.

The fact that he hasn’t yet asked the ship’s computer for any food is concerning, though.

“Grace no breakfast, question?”

“Nah man. Thought I’d change my diet. Some intermittent fasting.”

Rocky’s not sure what he’s talking about – this happens a lot with Grace. He uses words that Rocky knows, but they don’t make much sense in context.

“Rocky no understand.”

“Human joke. Sorry, rude habit. I’m just not hungry.”

Ah, humor. Rocky’s getting used to it; he even likes it sometimes. He kind of wishes Grace would explain this one, but he usually says it makes the joke less funny.

“Grace always want food,” he points out.

They go back and forth for a while after that. Grace explains that he wants to ration his “good” food since a lot of what they have on board the ship isn’t particularly enjoyable for him. Humans’ preference for pleasurable food has always seemed like another strange evolutionary feature, but Rocky tries not to judge.

Apparently Grace wants to save the better food for “special occasions,” which seems odd since they won’t have much reason for a party until the completion of their mission.

“Grace and Rocky no celebrate until Erid. Not until star saved.”

Grace brings his fingers to the hair on his head and laughs to himself. Rocky’s grown to love the sound of it; it’s warm and affirming and a sign that Grace is well and moods are stable. It just sounds nice, too.

Though sometimes when he laughs, Rocky isn’t sure why; he hasn’t said anything particularly humorous. Did he misunderstand? Was the translation wrong? It certainly happens on occasion when Grace talks to him. He wishes their communication options were better, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to. Three years might not seem like much to you, but it is for me. We could, I dunno, celebrate our birthdays?”

Rocky continues organizing what he needs for the dispensers. “Why, question?”

“I guess it’s another human thing. We have parties and give presents to people every year on the day they were born. It makes them feel, you know. Cared for.”

On Erid, everyone tends to care for one another all the time. Rocky can’t understand the point of limiting it to one day a year, not to mention putting all the focus on a single human.

“Humans are so self-involved,” he tells him.

“Come on! It’s fun.”

They’ve come up against this kind of thing before, where their respective cultures seem to baffle one another. Usually they try to be respectful and accept their differences, or at least approach from a place of curiosity.

But Rocky can’t help himself this time; birthdays sound silly and indulgent. And unfortunately, he finds it incredibly endearing that Grace seems so defensive about it.

“Tell me what I do on Grace’s birth-day,” he teases. “Call him special, feed snacks, wave fan over fragile human body, question?”

“Sounds great,” Grace replies in a neutral tone, which Rocky now recognizes is sarcasm. Grace communicates this way often, and Rocky has to admit it’s a bit catchy.

“Great, great, great,” he repeats. Grace takes a cup of liquid from one of the ship’s robots and finally gets out of bed to start his routine.

Rocky assesses his current models for the dispensers, considering other design possibilities. His thoughts drift back to Grace, though. It’s odd since he’s usually more focused, but he tries to remind himself that nothing about these circumstances are usual.

Nothing about Grace is usual either. He insists he’s a fairly average human, but Rocky finds that hard to believe. His skills, his knowledge, his compassion and bravery – seems unlikely there are that many others like him.

Rocky considers the concept of birthdays, and though it does still sound absurd by Eridian standards, he enjoys the thought of celebrating Grace specifically. Maybe he’ll try and calculate the date and do something nice for him.

When Grace returns he seems less drowsy. The liquid he eats when he wakes tends to have that effect. Suddenly he has more interest in Rocky’s side of the barrier, too.

“What are you working on, anyway?”

Rocky picks up his favorite of the canisters – he thinks it will move the best, and it uses as much surface area as possible to release the Taumoeba, but they’ll need some test runs.

“Design for Taumoeba canisters. Testing aerodynamics for dropping off at Erid sun.”

“Getting a head start, I see,” Grace notes.

Maybe it’s the fact that their lifespans are so different, but it doesn't feel that early. Besides, he’s only thinking of Grace, really, and keeping him alive until Erid is worth the advanced planning.

“Needs to be perfect,” Rocky tells him. He’s not sure the translator can convey how important this is to him, but Grace seems to understand on some level.

Rocky lost his entire crew. He’s not losing anyone else.

“Plenty of time to make it work,” Grace assures. He moves closer, his face morphing into that expression of intense interest. “I can’t believe you can just think these up and build them.”

The compliment feels almost too good, but Rocky tries his best to deflect. “Grace do science, Rocky make things.”

He continues to work, sort of, testing the dispenser openings, but he’s really just fiddling with them. The conversation has become rather emotionally overwhelming, at least for him. Rocky simply isn’t used to caring and worrying for a single person this much.

“Why does it have to be so perfect now, Rock?”

So maybe Grace hasn’t fully gathered the gravity of the situation. Sometimes he thinks the only reason humans have been able to survive at all is that they don’t acknowledge their own frailty, moving through life with a dangerous but steadfast confidence.

He puts down his work and turns to Grace, a position he tends to recognize as more serious. “Grace live.”

“Yeah? I know, pal. We’ll make it there no matter how many pounds of microbes from Adrian I have to choke down.”

Still not getting it. Rocky raises his carapace, standing tall to make himself and thus this point seem big. “No. Drop off at Erid sun is last big risk. Grace leaving ship to throw Taumoeba – dangerous. Rocky will make sure there are fewer chances for mistakes so Grace will live.”

Finally, it clicks. About time.

“Oh,” Grace replies quietly. The way his blood rises to his skull, Rocky wonders if he’s embarrassed or sorry or grateful; human emotions are still difficult to read. Either way he’s satisfied, but doesn’t want to talk much more about it. There’s still work to do.

***

“What should I expect when we get to Erid?”

Rocky’s surprised by the question, not because it’s a bad one, but because he’d thought Grace had already fallen asleep.

“Eridians build Grace a safe home,” he reminds him. “No worry.”

He’s thought a lot about this, actually. It’s going to be a chaotic return after so long, and most everyone will be concerned with the death of the crew and the logistics of killing astrophage. The shock of learning about other intelligent life in the universe will obviously be part of the chaos too, but Rocky knows they’ll need to prioritize building a safe environment for Grace immediately. He hopes he’ll present the desperate nature of the situation appropriately.

He doesn’t bring any of that up yet.

“But what will I do? What will you do? Day to day?”

Rocky doesn’t know the answer yet. He still doesn’t know if Adrian is waiting for him, or if he’ll be able to continue his engineering work from before. It’s possible his new life will entail a lot of time with scientists and historians and researchers, drawing everything they can from his unique experiences in space.

He knows that as long as Grace is on Erid, that will take up a great deal of his energy and time. He’s confident that his people will do their best, but Rocky owes Grace his fullest care and attention.

Even now, it seems. For some reason Grace needs reassurance; he asks a long list of questions about what he should expect, about dwellings, about where he’ll fit into Rocky’s life.

“And you dwell with –”

“Adrian. Unless they found new mate.”

Rocky still doesn’t know how to feel about that possibility. He’d be disappointed, of course, but maybe that’s a sacrifice he had to make in order to save their planet. Still, he thinks they’d be thrilled about the discovery of Grace, and knows the two of them would get on well.

“Right,” Grace answers. “And you spend a lot of time together.”

“Yes, of course. Best friend, like Grace.”

It’s not really the same, he knows. Rocky reaches to touch the stone embedded in his arm, the permanent symbol of their bond. He loves Adrian and always will. The thing about Grace, though (besides all the obvious extraordinary things) is that due to their unconventional friendship, they’ve had to work extra hard at it. It’s not lost on Rocky the effort Grace makes to ensure they can communicate; not just for the sake of their mission, either, but because he seems genuinely enamored with Rocky. And the feeling is mutual.

For all the ways Eridians look out for one another, Rocky feels especially looked after by Grace. And maybe his own friends and family would find it selfish and improper, the way Rocky enjoys the attention, but he does. He’s never had someone try so hard to understand him, find shared language and interests. That’s a purely Rocky/Grace thing, in his experience.

“Oh. Cool. I uh, look forward to meeting them.”

Rocky senses discomfort; he tries again to make Grace feel better, assure him he’ll be welcome once they arrive.

“Adrian love science, just like Grace. Will be so excited to meet!”

His plan doesn’t seem to work. Grace’s body slumps sadly, clearly still upset over something.

“Just promise you won’t abandon me, pal. I don’t want to get too lonely.”

Rocky startles – never has their communication device felt more useless. This is truly the last thing he would ever do.

“Rocky would never abandon best friend!”

“Yeah, well, I get that you already have a mate. On Earth that’s pretty much your person, above everyone else. You have families and look out for their well-being, and…pleasure.”

Pleasure? He’s mentioned this before, a physical element to mating that humans engage in, sometimes for procreation, often not. Mates on both Earth and Erid seem to provide companionship, stability, safety for one another; as far as Rocky can tell, those all equate to pleasure too. And those qualities aren’t far off from how he sees his relationship with Grace, either.

Grace must think there’s something Adrian provides that’s different, that he inherently can’t engage in.

“Grace is…word Rocky don’t know.”

The heart in Grace’s chest is suddenly pumping very hard and loudly, lungs inflating and deflating faster than usual too. Rocky’s mesmerized by the physical response.

“I’m fine.”

“Grace wish he was in Adrian place?”

He makes a frustrated groan and types into his thinking machine: <jealous>.

So he does think there’s something special with Adrian he’s missing out on. He’s not entirely wrong; they have a pretty long history together. But Rocky and Grace have a different type of bond.

“Mates on Erid not like humans. Friendship, partners, produce offspring. Not a bond of pleasure.”

Grace relaxes, apparently more at ease with this explanation. Rocky wonders why it comes as a relief, but even more so why he suddenly feels relieved, too.

***

Rocky ponders their conversation while Grace sleeps. He decides to put the canisters aside for now, turning his attention to the ship and the handful of small repairs he’s identified.

His thoughts meander, flitting between his concerns about putting Grace in danger, the eventual return to Erid, all of the unknowns ahead. Sometimes he just tries to appreciate the moment: he’s alive, and he isn’t alone anymore. And it’s not just any company that he has now, but a lifelong friend.

“Mmm,” Grace murmurs from his bunk. He’s face down on his stomach, still asleep if Rocky had to take a guess. Humans make all kinds of odd sounds, but the sleep ones are quite varied. When he asks Grace about them he sometimes groans with embarrassment, but Rocky can’t see why. It’s just biology. He’ll occasionally speak in his sleep, or mumble. Grace was particularly unhappy to explain the concept of “passing gas.” Then there’s Rocky’s favorite: the snore.

The clicky, sometimes rhythmic rumbles sound almost Eridian, and usually indicate Grace is getting good rest. They also serve as a loud reminder that he’s still breathing, which is always reassuring.

These sounds are new. He’ll have to ask about them when Grace wakes up. The closest he can compare them to are when Grace eats something especially enjoyable, or stretches his limbs after a long sleep…all sounds of intense physical pleasure.

Oh. Interesting.

“Yeah…mmm,” Grace moans again. Rocky perks up, inching closer to the barrier. Grace’s breathing is erratic, which concerns him, but so far his other functions seem regulated.

His lower half begins to move, rolling around and thrusting into his bed. Rocky doesn’t understand. The sounds are definitely ones of pleasure, but he’s only seen Grace have such a restless sleep when he’s dreaming, especially the frightening dreams he calls nightmares.

Maybe it’s time to intervene.

“Grace, Grace, Grace! Grace okay, question? Nightmare, question?”

“Yeah,” he answers, voice hoarse. Apparently he was already awake. Also interesting.

“Grace was loud, moving in bed.”

“Uh yeah. Just a human thing.”

Grace loves to deflect questions about certain human behaviors with this kind of excuse, even though Rocky always gets it out of him.

“Explain.”

“Right. Fine.” Grace looks more agitated about it than usual. He finally turns onto his back, and Rocky hones right in on his reproductive organ – the penis – erect beneath the sheets.

Grace begins his explanation, although frankly it’s nothing they haven’t already discussed about human reproduction. Rocky’s gathered the general mechanics, and understands at least biologically what’s happening right now, just not the why.

“So this is how Grace reproduce, question?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Grace tells him. “But I mean. Obviously that’s not what’s happening right now.”

For some reason it’s a sharp reminder that this can only happen with another human. Rocky isn’t sure why, but it bothers him.

“What cause arousal, then, question?”

Grace laughs to himself for some reason; Rocky’s whole carapace shakes with how much he loves the sound.

“Maybe my dream,” he tells him. So he was dreaming…moving uncomfortably in bed like he was having one of the scary ones. Then why the sounds of pleasure, too?

“Nightmare? Question?”

“Sometimes we don’t know what we dream about. We don’t remember them all. Maybe it wasn’t my dream. I dunno, Rock. It’ll go away.”

Grace is dodging him again. Rocky hums thoughtfully to himself, wondering if it might be too forward to offer some assistance. He knows he isn’t human, but clearly Grace is experiencing some biological need for physical pleasure.

“How can Rocky help?” he tries.

Grace makes several distressing sounds before he finally answers. “What?”

“Rocky wants to help Grace feel pleasure, body wants pleasure.”

Grace hesitates, shaking his head back and forth. “No, no – that’s okay.”

Rocky isn’t sure if he’s saying no because it’s Rocky asking, or if he really doesn’t need it.

“Explain,” he orders.

Finally, Grace gives in, shifting in his bed. “Yeah, so, just for science, yeah? Well, for me, personally, I have two options. I can stimulate my, uh…reproductive organ…”

“Penis,” Rocky tries to offer helpfully.

Grace pauses for a moment, like he’d forgotten what he was explaining. “Right. Or my prostate.”

Fascinating. So it isn’t even just the reproductive organ that can be stimulated. “Both options bring pleasure, question?”

“Yeah,” Grace answers with a heavy exhale.

“Grace touch himself for pleasure, question?”

“Sometimes. A lot more before I was in a four year coma and trying to save my planet.”

Right. They have been pretty busy. “And with mate,” Rocky reminds him. He figures Grace probably experienced more physical pleasure when he was with his previous partner, the one who’s now with Mark.

Grace slips his hand beneath his sheet. “Yeah,” he sighs.

There’s no reason to deny himself now, though. They’re relatively safe, and they have a good stretch of time left on their journey. If Grace’s body wants to feel good, it should. Besides, there isn’t much more Rocky loves than a happy Grace. “Do now,” he encourages.

“Huh?” Grace asks, surprised.

“Want to see, so Rocky can help.”

“No, buddy. This is private. Human thing.”

Private? “You said you do with mate.”

“You aren’t my mate.”

Rocky knows this, but still it hurts. He has Adrian, yes, but his connection to Grace is so different. Why does this feel so bad?

They aren’t mates, fine. But can’t they be something?

They’re friends, of course. But it’s a deeper, more special friendship, isn’t it? Rocky thinks so. All he ever wants to do is talk to Grace, learn from him, protect him.

And maybe he wants to be part of that thing that’s private, personal, just for the two of them.

It’s been quiet for a while. For once he doesn’t know what to say.

“Fine,” Grace finally replies. “But do you have to stand there watching?”

Rocky presses even closer to the barrier, flooded with relief at the change of heart.

“Rocky would like to.”

Grace laughs again, the joy of it nearly knocking Rocky down off all five legs. He didn’t even know that could happen, but he supposes that he didn’t know about humans until recently either.

There’s more, too: Grace wiggles his way out of some of his clothing and touches himself, rubbing and stroking, breathing out a string of pleased whimpers. Rocky is rapt at the new sounds, the way simple skin to skin contact makes Grace do that. Could Rocky make him do that, he wonders?

“Grace better?” he asks. He knows it’s meant to be private, but Rocky’s never excelled at keeping quiet for long.

“Getting there.” Grace continues to touch himself, moving his hand into different configurations, rubbing and pulling and sliding his fingers over different parts of his reproductive organ. Rocky commits each one to memory along with every sound Grace makes in response, even though he knows he’ll never get to do this for him himself, not exactly.

He tries not to be too sad about it, instead soaking up as much of Grace as possible: lifting his hips, bucking up into his hand, whole body squirming.

“Fu–” Grace huffs, promptly stopping himself from saying more. Rocky wonders what he wanted to shout, why he decided not to. It’s all so new, but this feels like more than mere curiosity. It’s giving him pleasure, unfamiliar sensations and emotions obstructing his usual sense of reason.

Grace increases the speed of his hand, and Rocky can sense all sorts of changes in his body: tightness in his tendons and muscles, blood pooling in his face and below his hips, moisture leaking from his skin.

It’s gorgeous, though he has nothing to compare it to. On Erid beauty is gauged through movement and sound, so maybe that’s why it’s affecting him so viscerally.

But it’s Grace too, happy and free and joyful and safe. Rocky starts to sing – he can’t even control himself, entirely swept up in the moment. The computer doesn’t know how to translate.

“What?” Grace asks breathlessly. Rocky’s forgotten that he can still hear him, even if he doesn’t understand.

“Grace pleasure is beautiful.”

It can be difficult to track Grace’s gaze sometimes, but Rocky knows that he’s looking right at him.

Suddenly Grace shudders, lifting his shoulders, body curling in on itself. “Oh god,” he chokes out between rapid breaths.

Rocky remembers this part from their talks about bodily functions – the release. More liquid, this time leaking from his reproductive organ. He understands the biological purpose, but also that it’s the culmination of pleasure too. He can tell the way Grace’s muscles start to relax and his breathing settles.

“Good, question?” Rocky asks hopefully.

Grace laughs softly, hiding his smile beneath an arm.

“Good. Very good.”

Good. Rocky’s already imagining how he can make Grace feel even better.

***

It’s actually all Rocky can think about. It’s common for him to worry about Grace’s health and safety, but this is something else entirely – he might be a little addicted to all those new sounds.

At first he considers urging his friend to just…do it again. Instead, he does a little research and hypothesizing and engineering of his own, developing a tool for him to stimulate himself in other ways.

Rocky hopes he likes it…again, he doesn’t want to be forward, but he also isn’t really of the mind to care right now, either. He helped encourage Grace to feel good, and then he felt good, so it seems like a pretty obvious choice.

The tool is easy enough to build; Rocky’s an expert at mixing and molding xenonite to his liking, and he’s also well-versed in Grace’s specific physiology. There are sensations he knows he doesn’t understand, but he thinks he’s got the basics. His first model is straight and rigid, a smooth surface. Grace can tell him if he needs to make adjustments.

Rocky keeps his project quiet for a while, waiting for the right time to gift it. The right time, it turns out, appears when Grace is preparing himself for sleep; he seems particularly comfortable and cozy, as he puts it, and Rocky already knows he’s going to watch him for hours on end anyway.

“Rocky make something for Grace,” he finally says.

Grace continues his routine, barely even turning toward the barrier. “Aw, thanks pal.”

Rocky titters with a shade of annoyance at the dismissal, tossing the gift into the airlock, finally earning some of Grace’s attention. He hurries over to retrieve it, studying the gift with more interest.

“What do we have here?” He looks more confused than Rocky would like, but he examines it carefully, running his fingers along the smooth length, pressing his thumb at the slightly tapered end. And then he freezes, totally immobile, holding his breath.

Rocky taps at the barrier. “For Grace to use for pleasure.”

Grace remains still, apparently transfixed by his new gift. Rocky shifts his weight back and forth nervously.

“Um, thanks,” Grace finally replies hesitantly. “You shouldn’t have.”

Rocky thinks he knows that saying; it’s not a literal statement telling him he made a mistake, but not very enthusiastic either.

“Other form of stimulation,” Rocky explains, just in case.

“Oh, yup, I get it. I can definitely see that now.”

Rocky knows he might be crossing some sort of weird cultural line that he doesn’t understand; it would explain Grace’s anxious reaction, at least. But it’s happened so much at this point that he feels pretty comfortable with some missteps.

Something about this one…isn’t as comfortable.

“Will work, question?” He tries.

Grace acts even stranger then, tossing the tool up in the air and catching it, the tone of his voice shifting into something false.

“Yeah, yeah. Would probably work. I’m gonna go ahead and put it away in my bag for now. For safekeeping.”

That seems odd. Why wouldn’t he want to use it now? “Grace don’t want to try, question?”

Grace rushes off, clearly agitated, leaping into his bunk. “Kind of have to be in the mood for something like that.”

Humans and their moods.

“Grace should try, will feel good after pleasure again.”

Rocky certainly doesn’t want to pressure him, but it seems like Grace really enjoyed himself last time; Rocky did too. A whole new worry begins to creep in, that maybe Grace regrets it, that Rocky misread the whole thing. Despite getting along so well and their compatible working relationship, Grace is annoyingly hard to understand sometimes. Rocky thinks he’s done a fine job considering they come from actual different worlds, but he’s never had this kind of doubt and certainty on Erid.

Fortunately Grace interrupts his spiral, suddenly leaping up and moving toward his lab. “Fine. Okay. Let’s give it a try.”

Rocky vibrates with excitement, carapace still shaking with it when Grace returns to his bunk with a container of more liquid.

“Why need this, question?”

“Okay, well. It’ll move inside me better,” he explains. “In general it feels good to have for you know…stimulating both parts.”

“Understood,” Rocky confirms. “Weak human, soft body.”

Grace laughs softly, the sound of it bouncing around Rocky’s insides. “You know, it’s not helping your cause when you make fun of my humanness.”

“Fragile emotions also,” Rocky replies playfully, endlessly endeared by this human of his. He moves closer to the barrier, right next to Grace’s bunk.

Grace slides his pants below his waist to touch himself, and Rocky can already sense the changes to his breathing.

“You’re one to talk. Seem to remember you making those Taumoeba dispensers years in advance just because you’re worried about me.”

Rocky is worried about him. He’s not making a secret of that fact.

“Don’t want Grace to die. Rocky explain this already. Care for Grace.”

“Of course you do,” Grace laughs, amused.

Rocky shifts back and forth impatiently, noting the changing distribution of blood inside Grace’s body, the moisture seeping from his skin. “Can Grace explain what happens during stimulation, question?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees. Grace does a good deal of rearranging next, removing his pants altogether, gathering his bedding behind him to prop himself up to a more seated position.

“What now, question? What Grace doing now, question?”

Grace spreads his legs apart, offering Rocky a whole new view of his body. He can see where the tool he gifted him is going, and starts humming and dancing in place in anticipation.

“I need to stretch myself open,” Grace tells him, applying some of the liquid he’d retrieved to his hand. “Right now it would probably hurt too much without.”

Rocky stills, mortified that he hadn’t even considered this possibility. Humans are so soft and physically vulnerable, of course he should have thought of it! “Rocky make badly and hurt Grace!”

“No pal, it’s completely normal,” Grace reassures him. “Even when I’m doing this myself or with some other guy, you need to prep.”

This is…not reassuring for some reason, and now Rocky has something entirely new to worry about. He tries to focus as Grace brings his wet fingers to the opening between his legs, clearly enjoying the sensation by the sounds he’s making. His limbs are barely doing anything, especially his legs, and yet he can’t even keep them still.

Rocky’s enjoying this too, no question, but an unpleasant thought keeps nagging at him.

“Other guy, question?” He finally asks.

“Mmmhmm,” Grace agrees, breath shuddering as he moves a finger deeper inside himself. “Yeah, I told you. I’m attracted to humans of all genders.”

“Yes, Grace mentioned this,” he says, but that’s not exactly what Rocky is asking about. He’s simply not used to this feeling, a deep and utter resentment toward strangers, strange humans no less, who experienced this already with Grace. On Erid there’s nothing like it, so he supposes it makes sense, but there’s something else, too.

Rocky’s never felt particularly possessive of anyone before, but with Grace…he’s just so different, obviously, like nothing Rocky has or ever will encounter again. And not just because he’s an alien, either. It’s the way he treats him differently, that uniquely Grace curiosity and attention he shows him. Grace is special, Rocky’s special thing that he’d somehow found in the depths of the universe.

“Rocky is…jealous,” he finally admits.

Grace stops what he’s doing and shifts his head to look at him. “What? Why?”

“Grace feel pleasure from different humans! Rocky wishes he was in their place!”

“I mean, it’s not just any humans,” Grace replies carefully. “For me, I have to really, really like them to do something like this. And feel liked.”

Rocky isn’t sure if Grace intended to soothe him with this information, but it definitely has that effect. He can’t be human, but he thinks he has a good grasp on this part.

“Rocky really, really like Grace.”

Grace pauses abruptly, processing this information. “Explain,” he tells him. Rocky’d assumed it was pretty self-explanatory, but he does as told.

“Rocky knows he is not human, but still want to help Grace feel pleasure like past mates.”

Another pause…longer, more distressing this time, at least for Rocky. He knows he’s navigating new territory between them, so he tries to exercise some patience.

Grace makes a sound somewhat resembling a cough, clearing his throat before speaking. “You want to make me feel good like one of my mates would.”

“Yes,” Rocky confirms, relieved that the computer communicated properly.

“Because you really, really like me. Like a mate.”

More than that, Rocky thinks, but Grace seems to be getting the idea.

“Like human mate.” He hopes the implication is clear: not just a special bond, but a physical one too.

Grace exhales, pulse beating loud beneath his skin. “Got it,” he replies, beginning to add more liquid to his fingers. “And for the record, I like you a lot too.”

Rocky thrills, buzzing with joy and affection, vibrant and bright and new as though a whole sense had been sleeping dormant inside of him. He wonders if any Eridian has ever felt this way, or if it’s some human trait he’s adopted from his newest mate. It’s an amazing sensation, to feel liked and kept and wanted.

He presses up against the barrier, lifting his own hand as though he could somehow reach right through to touch Grace on the other side. Grace returns the gesture; Rocky can almost imagine the soft, cool flesh of his hand against his own.

Grace begins to move one of his fingers as though he’s rubbing Rocky’s, sighing wistfully.

“Wish I could touch you,” he tells him, echoing Rocky’s own thoughts.

“Yes,” Rocky agrees adamantly, mind already racing, his engineering brain at work constructing something to better enable such a possibility. He’d made the more pliable xenonite panel for his ball… he could probably do something with that. “Maybe build better suits. For now, Grace touch self.”

“Bossy,” Grace laughs some more. “And to be clear, what would Adrian think about all this? I don’t wanna be some home wrecker.”

“What this mean, question?”

“If our…arrangement here is bad for your relationship with Adrian. I don’t want to cause that.”

Rocky thinks he understands. “Relationship different. Adrian not jealous of Grace.”

“If you say so,” Grace replies somewhat skeptically, pressing his finger deeper inside himself, sliding it in and out.

“Grace feel pleasure yet, question?” Rocky asks, mesmerized by the new purpose to his movements.

“Yeah, just gonna add another finger,” Grace gasps.

Rocky hears every groan and moan and shudder, huffs of moist air leaving Grace’s mouth and nose as he writhes there, pressing another digit inside himself. His reproductive organ stands erect, but Grace seems far more focused on thrusting his fingers deeper. It’s a strange thing to watch another being experience something he can’t, lacking barely any common biology, but Rocky suddenly wishes he could experience that same pleasure.

Grace takes the gift Rocky had made for him, slicking it and pushing it slowly inside where his fingers had been.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Rocky urges him, beyond delighted to see it put to use, even more so when Grace’s mouth turns up into a satisfied smile.

“You did good, Rock. Excellent craftsmanship.”

Rocky preens, committing each and every new response to memory. Grace unravels, moving the tool in and out of himself with ease now, using his other hand to grope at his own body, pull at his own hair.

He’s always been a bit of a mystery to solve, but Grace is positively feral now, moving in ways Rocky can’t even begin to understand. It makes him far more aware of his own body than usual; he doesn’t exactly feel sexual arousal like humans, but something about Grace in his current state rewires his system, each and every nerve flaring with presence.

Suddenly Grace’s moans spike louder, sharper, coughing out a choking sound like he’s struggling to breathe.

Rocky presses his carapace against the barrier, wishing he could walk right through. “Grace hurt, question?”

“No, no, very much the opposite.” Grace’s hand trails down and lifts his shirt, settling on one of the two raised bumps of skin on his chest, fingers pinching at it desperately.

“Why Grace do this, question?”

“I dunno, Rock, it just feels really good.”

Not the most detailed answer. “Grace get real stupid when aroused. Like hasn’t slept. Can’t even give scientific explanation.”

“Science is quite literally the last thing on my mind right now.” Apparently he can’t even muster a real reply to Rocky’s teasing. Instead he continues moving the tool in and out of his body, touching himself on his chest, squirming in his bunk.

“Tell Rocky more what Grace is feeling,” Rocky presses.

“Grace is feeling very close to coming,” he answers shortly, and that’s barely a real response at all as far as Rocky’s concerned.

“More,” Rocky insists. “Better explanation.”

Grace nods, shifting position slightly, arranging his fingers so all of them clamp down on the bump on his chest. If Rocky didn’t know any better, he’d think Grace had configured his hand to look like Rocky’s –

“I…am feeling like I wish you were over here,” he offers breathlessly.

Rocky can relate. “Same same same!”

Grace gasps out another one of his beautiful laughs. “You’re so…heavy, I want your weight to hold me down.”

“Yes yes yes.” Rocky imagines standing right above him, careful and firm, knowing full well he could break his fragile frame. That Grace would let him do that, trusts him so openly…he feels dizzy, like he’s on the verge of falling into a deep sleep.

“I know I can’t, but I really want to know what you smell like, taste like,” Grace continues.

“Don’t know these senses,” Rocky points out, wishing so badly he did.

“Yeah, I know. You’re missing out.”

No time to be sad about that now. Besides, all of Rocky’s actual senses are heightened and alert, soaking in the sounds and motions, the ventral seal below his carapace that receives so many external stimuli beginning to open on instinct.

“I’d want to hear you, all those happy sounds you keep making. Without the computer. Just you.”

Someday they’ll understand one another without the computer, Rocky thinks. They’re getting close already. “Rocky loves Grace’s sounds, too. Body sounds, aroused sounds. Voice is very beautiful.”

“Dang, Rock,” Grace grins happily, eyes shut tight. “Thank you.”

Rocky can tell that he’s getting tired, but Grace keeps on chasing the release, leaking from his reproductive organ and his skin, breaths uneven and short. He grabs for some more bedding to put beneath his hips and keeps on going, his arm moving quickly to keep working the tool inside of him.

“Grace so pretty like this, so cute,” Rocky gushes. “So soft and fragile.”

“You know, I woke up from my coma with some pretty big muscles,” he argues, and Rocky can’t help but laugh in return. It really is cute.

Grace seems only mildly annoyed, which is also cute. “You told me humans were gross and leaky.”

Rocky remembers…but now that he knows him it just isn’t the same as those early days. “Feelings change…Grace no longer a stranger.”

“Same, Rock.”

He drops a hand to touch himself, giving two long strokes before he starts leaking more heavily, his whole body curling inward as he moans with pleasure. Rocky may not have been across the barrier with him, but he helped make that happen, brought Grace that physical pleasure reserved for only special humans. He sings joyously, trilling notes between Grace’s own sounds.

The two of them join together as close as they can without actually touching, each leaning on one side of the wall, imagining what it would be like to really feel the other.

“Thanks for the present,” Grace whispers groggily.

“Rocky is happy,” he answers contentedly. “Give Grace pleasure like human mate.”

“You’re a quick study,” Grace agrees. “Hey, I know you don’t do this with Eridian mates, but can you feel any kind of pleasure like this? Biologically, is that possible?”

The honest answer is no, of course, but then Rocky considers the way his body responded to Grace in his bunk, every bit of organic material, every cell begging for something more.

“Not necessary for reproduction like with humans,” he tries to explain. “But vent for eat and egg laying, very sensitive nerves.” He tries pointing below his carapace, wondering if Grace, who’d been so disgusted by his eating, would even be interested in touching him there.

Instead he senses all the signs of arousal already returning, between the speed of his heart beating and blood warming his cheeks. “Maybe you should get to work on making us some new suits.”

Rocky hums, considering the logistics, relaxing against the barrier. Grace is barely dressed in his clothes, but he wraps himself in some of his bedding. It’s quiet and still; safe. For now at least, he’s defeated the persistent worry. Grace is comfortable and warm, fed, physically satisfied. They’ve agreed to share some kind of special bond, something far more complex than mates on Earth or Erid. Or, maybe more simple. It’s hard to tell. But it’s definitely worth celebrating.

“Grace, is this…special occasion, question?”

“Yeah buddy. I’d say so.” Rocky thinks he can hear him smile.

“Want better food, question?”

“Nah, we can save it. This is more than enough.”

Rocky rests against the wall, listens to Grace’s gentle breathing, and quietly promises to make sure that’s always true.