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Simon had never seen a pair of kinder eyes starring down at him from above, viscerally ripping him apart with their compassion and tenderness. From living together for a while now, he realizes it’s kind of just how Dr. Ryland Grace operated in his day-to-day; he’s still getting used to sharing a home with such a nuclear wave of idiotic and unfounded care that Simon never quite felt he deserved to be on the receiving end of. The sweetness was possibly the most alien thing of all about Ryland, to Simon anyway.
“Tea?”
Simon couldn’t help but indulge in a pretty satisfying roll of the eyes at the question. Why was he always asking like it was a question? At this point he should know, this was their evening routine, dinner, dishes, and tea on their itty bitty porch, and Simon never, ever wanted anything different. He extended his hand to reach up and grab the cup extended towards him when Ryland tutted him, “How about with a little less attitude?” Simon emitted a low chuckle, shaking his head at the scolding.
“Yes please.”
Ryland hummed in satisfaction, once again extending the cup into Simon’s reach. Simon pushed up past Ryland’s overstretched cardigan sleeve draped against the mug’s wall to brush past the soft, scarred fingertips on the handle to grab it hidden underneath. It was their favorite shared custody cardigan, Rylands turn to wear it apparently. Simon couldn’t help but feel briefly bad about stretching it so much on the one side with his big meaty hand, making it all loose and worn on Ryland’s comparatively lithe frame. Ryland hummed at the physical contact, a sweet little smile blooming with warmth as he savored the murmured thank you that crawled from Simon’s lips. He scootched over and made a little bit more space for Grace to unceremoniously flop down with a sigh, wrapping his unoccupied arm loosely around Simon’s waist. The action was probably meant to gently tuck Simon into his side, but Ryland ended up sliding a little closer to him instead; not that Ryland wasn’t in decent shape, but Simon was so dense he wasn’t really unwillingly movable (in regards to Ryland anyway).
“Thanks for coming with me to class today. The kids love it when you come and help with experiments, I think they’re getting a real kick out of our bean jar.” Ryland started to ramble on about bean jars of classes past on earth, accidental breakages and plants so strong they overwhelmed his little classroom windowsill and had to be planted outside, and that’s how the science club begun a gardening faction, and-
It never fails to make Simon pause at the culture shock between the two. The casual approach to something as sacred as the growth of food-bearing plants, for example, that it is regarded as nothing more but a fun and informative experiment for children. Simon is glad to work with Ryland and to pass on such important knowledge, but what a strange approach in his mind to something that was almost considered holy in another life. But, he sighs internally, what does that all matter now? This is either a pleasant afterlife totally underserved or a fresh start, equally undeserved. It does not matter. He will selfishly covet these precious little moments spent with this intelligent, handsome man for as long as he could.
With a gentle click he set his teacup behind him and turned towards Ryland, taking the rambling man’s cheek in his hand with only a trace of hesitancy. It’s not that they hadn’t been more, more…romantic was the word? Lately? It was a newer development, still a little fragile but optimistic between them, getting better every single day. Hugs lingered, hands were held and kissed, their ritual cuddling at night was less flavored with desperation and need for human touch but more with genuine connection and affection. It was more than Simon could have ever dreamed of sometimes. Ryland quieted gradually, an inquisitive look gracing his brow in silent question as he watched and waited for what came next. He tended to allow Simon to lead the way, set the step and tune of each dance in this new land of their relationship: it’s something Simon couldn’t express appreciating enough. He had never known someone so intimately before, why should he have? It was never part of his mission, and indulging in anything outside of that rigid society was pretty strongly frowned upon. Besides, even if he did want to change his mind, there was no way out but forward.
Long and short of it, this was entirely new territory for him; the ability to explore without judgement and with affectionate blue eyes on him was sufficient enough.
Simon leaned towards Ryland, he could feel the other man holding his breath and tracked his blue eyes flicking between Simons own eyes and lips as he inched closer and closer. They had shared some kisses before but ugh, Simon didn’t know what possessed him in this moment to press into his lips a little more desperately than normal. A little more enthusiasm behind it maybe, a kiss driven by hunger than love. Ryland sighed into the kiss as it landed on his lips, shoulders stiff and unmoving, unlike the desperate hand twitching involuntarily on Simon’s waist. They stayed like this for a moment before Simon decided to move.
Did he have much experience with kissing? No. Most kisses shared between the two had been breathless pecks so far or tender, slow kisses that burned like embers in his soul were earth shattering enough. But Simon could feel the tension between them growing by the day, and his instincts took over his better judgement before he could reconsider. He conjured up fuzzy images in his head of romantic movie nights past and started to move his lips in a way he hoped was alluring. Herein lies the real magic of kissing, Simon was pleased to discover; he is feeling his way around blind, just following what makes that pit in his stomach grow molten and sticky with pleasure, blindly hoping the hedonistic intoxication is infectious and mutual.
Ryland couldn’t help a little squeak of surprise as Simon parted his lips further, mirroring Simon’s clumsy movements with loosely restrained enthusiasm.Back and forth, trying to consider the other and fighting their own urges, the two gently stayed kissing. Simon felt air rush out of his lungs at the sensation of a wet, slimy, warm and appealing tongue darting across his bottom lip. It startled him, made him part his lips when realization struck; it felt like a rod of metal in a lightening storm when this slimy, hot creature decided to coax its way into his own mouth. If he let out a breathy little whine as he opened his mouth to Ryland’s exploratory meanderings, well…nobody else would ever know, so why worry? He indulged in another airy little moan as he shifted in his seat, feeling the affects of his growing interests progressively begin to press and strain against the soft, pliant material of a pair of sweatpants that would never quite fit him right, built for the shorter and more slender hips of Ryland. Maybe even that these were his sweatpants his cock was starting to rub against in such a delicious way made this the more intoxicating for him, like the joy of doing something you’re not supposed to.
Should he be worried about getting a raging hard on from a few less than chaste kisses? Simon tried to take a moment to consider this, but before he could get too far into his head, Ryland was starting to disengage. It would’ve been easier if a black hole had just suddenly opened up beneath him and attempted to swallow him whole one more than to deal with the temporary, overwhelming grief experienced in those small movements of him pulling away.
Maybe he was doing this wrong. Before Ryland he’s never kissed a soul, and a kiss as provocative (to Simon anyway) as this? Totally uncharted territory. He must be so shitty at this, can’t kiss him right, losing complete control of himself. A desperate little twinge of fear that Ryland had noticed his enjoyment, was disgusted, would never want Simon to kiss him again sat in his stomach like acid—“could I…touch you Si?” Airy and breathless, “can I get a little closer? Would that be okay?”
Oh.
Oh!
Simon stutters over an enthusiastic yes, the perfectly restrained, loose hand at Simons waist sank in as he used it as an anchor to pull himself halfway onto Simon’s thighs, the pressure on his body a deep twist of the knife sent straight to his cock, as Ryland started to melt into every gap and crevice he could. Simon couldn’t help but pull him in a little closer with his own arm, wrapping him with affection. It doesn’t seem like Ryland noticed his erection quite yet, but maybe that’s a good thing? He did notice how the physical pressure on Simon made him start to pant with exhilaration; the pressure in combination with the feverish kissing was so intense for him, he absentmindedly wondered what if would be like to have him straddled on his lap directly one day? Grinding and fucking like animals, or like in a movie? A groan couldn’t help but escape him at the prospect, the mere idea of the act driving him crazy in a totally unfamiliar way. It felt like he was trying to fantasize about something he didn’t quite know what he was fantasizing about, the interest and drive he was experiencing was entirely ingrained into his natural instincts. Sure he knows he wants Ryland connected to him at his center, but what would sex look like from that point? Who was he supposed to be, what was his role in this admittedly sinful daydream? Better yet, what would turn Ryland on? Make him hiss and moan and cry? God, he couldn’t wait to figure it out.
Battling with these thoughts, It was Simons turn to have Ryland gently cup his cheek, whispering into his lips, “How are you?” Simon was so close to his face that he could feel how Ryland worried his lip while waiting for Simon to respond. It felt like he was on another planet as the hazy “Please….” was croaked out from his distant cords. With a singsong sigh Ryland hummed back into Simon’s waiting and willing lips. Simon had never felt more and less like himself than in this moment; feeling and hearing his own body function around him directly because of where he was, who with, and what they were doing, it almost grounded him in a way that he had never experienced before.
The mortification starts to dawn on Simon with a strangled, garbled cry of pleasure as Ryland releases his hold on his cheek and his lips, to wrap his arms around his neck and tuck himself into the crook of Simons shoulder, to start carding gentle hands through his hair. Light scratches on his sensitive scalp, coos of sweet nothings and affections while pressing the most tooth rotting kisses and nibbles Simons ever known to the sensitive apex of his neck, thrumming with a hummingbird-like pulse, as he gracefully traced nonsensical patterns on his head. The beginning of the end.
Oh fuck.
The horror show unfolds over mere moments, but to Simon it could’ve been an hours long humiliation ritual, as with a frightening, overwhelming shock to the senses, he shut his eyes and succumbed to the first white-hot pleasurable wave of his off-guard release. The taught coil in his stomach he thought he had been managing well had unwillingly, blissfully, horrifyingly unfurled with an unceremonious little cry and thrust into nothingness, transformed into a blooming wet patch on his sweatpants that just kept growing. He couldn’t help the keening little cries and the tears sparking in his eyes as he felt spurt after spurt of come contract out of him, finding his release hard and desperately in his pants, undone by the smallest little intimacies bestowed upon him by this piece of walking starlight in a long dead galaxy. This was too far. He knows this was way too far. Ryland is still against him but hands instantly shot away from his scalp while picking up his face from Simon’s neck at the speed of light. His expression matched Simon’s in flush and shock, eyes gorging on the sweaty, spent man in his presence, watching with blatant hunger at the growing wet patch in Simon’s sweatpants, committing it to memory for all time. Ryland hovered, pausing his selfish feast, unsure what to do, while Simon buried his Face into Ryland’s now available shoulder in absolute mortification about what just happened. He’s so upset he can’t even find the words to speak.
“Oh dear…” came a gentle, husky sigh. This must be the beginning of the end then. Simon’s body starts to rattle with tearless cries as the cum-soaked stain continuing to bloom in its wetness in his sweatpants begins to rapidly cool and cling to his slowly softening cock. This is mortifying. Even death would have been preferable to this moment. It was not how he wanted their first foray into an intimate relationship to go. And now? Maybe this is what puts an end to everything.
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry…” Ryland coos. He slips off SImon’s thighs to sit beside him once again in order to pull him in for a proper, comforting cuddle. Simon can’t even look up at him, this is humiliating beyond recognition.
They sit together in an uncomfortable silence which seemingly stretches on for miles ahead.
“You know, this is actually incredibly flattering, Si.”
The fucking audacity of it all makes Simon pick up his face from Rylands shoulder, embarrassment temporarily disposed to overwhelm his twisted face with confusion and rage. Words still stolen, he looks into the face of the fucking idiot he got abandoned by God with, who has the nerve in his lowest moment to flush so sweetly and smile and try to make this right. Ryland was always having to fix his fucking mistakes, all his fuckups, and it pissed him right fucking off.
The sweetness in Rylands eyes dimmed but did not fade at Simon’s wordless bitching out. “No no, I’m serious.” Ryland sighs, “that I make you feel so much, you physically can’t contain it? That something about me sets you off so deeply, your own body can’t help reacting? It’s uh,” he coughs and looks away, “it’s pretty hot, honestly. Very, veeery easily could’ve been me.” Ryland glanced down at his own crotch in an abashed way, Simon was pleased to note that at least he had also been effected by their machinations.
Ryland huffed out a dry, humorless chuckle. “I know this isn’t exactly what we had discussed…but where do you want to go from here, Si? You lead our way.” His words and his tone were not unkind.
“What are my options?” He croaks, falling back into the cardiganed shoulder.
“Well,” Ryland hums, tentatively and carefully wrapping his arms around Simons body, “No matter what, we need to get you cleaned up. After that, who knows? We can discuss it, forget it ever happened, or…i don’t know…” Simon feels the hesitation, “we could…continue? Something a little more….”he slowly started to rub Simon’s back, “purposeful?”
Simon picked his head up again. “Are we ready for that?”
Months ago, at the beginning of what Rocky excitedly dubbed their courtship, they had an honest conversation about where each man was coming from into this union. Simon was aware of Grace, and Grace of Simon, open communication was the only way this could work with the amount of baggage between the two. Simon had zero experience with anything beyond a childish crush on someone else. There was no room for tenderness or exploration of intimacy on Eden. Everyone has their role to play, and it must be done well or else. That’s not to say he hasn’t taken himself into his own hands on occasion, he’s only human after all, but The Incident and what followed squashed any and all intimate desire he had the ability to rarely conjure.
Grace on the other hand, sure he had a few relationships spanning from Casual to Serious, with a few girls and even one boy, but all that hadn’t been a part of his life since grad school. Was there a point in his life where all he wanted was a wife and kids? Sure, but when you’re given the time and resources to sink your teeth passionately into your work with full force, at some point you need to give up the resentful Facebook scrolling and allow the urge to ‘mate’ to die a quiet death. And then when his world blew apart anyway, he found that he was fulfilled enough working with the great minds of tomorrow, that any lingering desire for the American dream was firmly put to rest. Until he met Simon, that is.
With all that in mind, Ryland rolled it all around in his head like marbles in a cup. “I think…” he bit his lip. “let’s take the pressure off. Revisit this later. Get you cleaned up and see where we go from there?” Simon nodded.
Together they made their way inside, heading towards the shower.