Chapter Text
Grace was still sleeping when Mary sounded his last morning alarm. He smacked the snooze button he had secretly installed on the wall next to his bed. If Rocky found it, Grace knew he would get quite the talking to. Eridians treated sleep like a sacred ritual and tampering with one’s sleep schedule was blasphemy. If he didn’t get up now, either Rocky or Simon would come to shake him awake. He appreciated his friends’ concern but they were beginning to annoy him. For instance, Rocky was convinced Grace had developed a heart condition after Simon’s arrival to Erid. Rocky had even dragged Adrian down to Grace and Simon’s habitat to perform a physical on Grace. Grace had flatly refused a complete examination, allowing Adrian to take his heart rate, temperature and oxygen levels. It felt like a complete farce but Grace had to play along to alleviate Rocky’s concerns. He couldn’t admit to Rocky or Adrian why he had suddenly developed bouts of heightened heart rate. It wasn’t actually a ‘why’, it was more of a ‘who’ that was the source of his cardiac irregularities. A certain dark-haired former convict turned hobby botanist.
“Good Morning Dr. Grace, would you like your coffee in the living room?” Mary asked.
Grace had finally exited his soft bed piled high with blankets. “No, thanks, Mary. Adrian said I had to go off the stuff.”
It was Adrian’s medical instruction after the short exam Grace allowed yesterday. Grace heard Adrian chittering, the Eridian equivalence of human giggles, during the entire exam, like they knew something that Grace didn’t. Adrian had pronounced the increased heart rate was due to Grace developing anxiety. They also advised Grace to incorporate more aerobic activity in his daily routine. Grace had solemnly nodded and promised he would follow Adrian’s advice, if only to wipe the worried expression off Simon’s face from across the room. Simon had latched onto Rocky’s worry train when he heard Rocky mentioning Grace’s pulse rate.
“Grace heart fast rate. Grace heart fast for 3 weeks. Bad bad bad statement”
Simon had been eavesdropping from the bedroom Rocky had annexed to Grace’s house. Ever since, Simon kept urging Grace to get examined by Adrian, just to be safe. Grace wondered who had more of a hand/appendage in getting Adrian over to his house yesterday.
“Hey Mary, could you play Ray of Solar by Swedish House Mafia? I have to get my aerobic activity in for the day, doctor’s orders.”
The song began with jittery cello synths, followed by an angelic voice. Grace limbered up his stiff body by hopping from one foot to the other. When the concussive piano chords hit, he started dancing. It wasn’t a very elegant dance, Grace admitted to himself, but it was the best he could do. He began windmilling his arms around as the beat dropped and decided to throw in a few butt wiggles while shimmying his shoulders. Grace was infinitely glad Simon was an early riser and currently spending most of his time in the new greenhouse he and Rocky had built down the beach. Grace’s cheeks reddened at the thought of Simon catching him during this private jam session.
Grace requested another song from Mary, When We Were Young by David Guetta and continued to hop around the room, throwing his various body parts in time to the beat. In the final crescendo of the song, he decided to dance his way into the kitchen for some breakfast. He failed to see Simon standing in the living room as he passed by until Simon dropped the pail of garden tools he had been gripping with his prosthetic arm. Grace froze automatically after the clang of the pail echoed through the house.
“Would you like me to play another song for you, Dr. Grace?” Mary asked politely.
Grace squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the ground beneath him would swallow him whole.
“No, thank you, Mary. Dance party is over.” Grace managed, his face flooding with color.
The house was eerily quiet for a moment but Grace interrupted it.
“How long have you been here, Simon?” Grace asked, turning towards Simon.
Simon made a strange expression as he started to speak, “I definitely came in during the butt wiggles.”
Grace’s mouth flopped open, unable to respond to Simon’s statement.
A grin curled at the corner of Simon’s lips but he remained silent, picking up the pail and returning it to its shelf next to the entryway. Grace didn’t know what else to say as he retreated to the kitchen and began to prepare dehydrated eggs. Simon followed him and looked curiously over Grace’s shoulder as he prepared the eggs. The kitchen had been constructed by Rocky with only Grace in mind, mimicking the narrow galley aboard the Hail Mary. Grace could feel Simon’s breath tickling the side of his neck as he peered over Grace’s shoulder.
“Whatcha making us?” Simon asked.
“Eggs and toasted taumeoba wafers.” Grace was impressed he was capable of speech with Simon crowding his space. Grace added more dehydrated egg powder to the bowl he had been preparing, Simon continued surveying Grace’s movements, leaning closer to Grace’s ear.
“Don’t forget I like my wafers extra crunchy.,” Simon rumbled and Grace felt the vibration of his voice in his stomach while tingles of warmth radiated around the ear Simon had spoken into. How did this man affect him so effortlessly? And why was he taunting him like this, Simon couldn’t know what his voice did to him. Grace poured just enough water to rehydrate the eggs to a chew consistency as he and Simon both detested when the eggs were overly hydrated and messy.
Grace turned his head back to Simon in an attempt to have a normal conversation and shake himself free from the throes of lust, “And you hate sloppy eggs, right?”
Simon’s eyes travelled from Grace’s eyes down to his mouth and back up again before he replied, “Right, but that only applies to eggs, sloppiness is good for other things.”
Grace nodded quickly and snapped his head back around, positive that his eyes were as big as saucers. What the flip was wrong with Simon this morning?! Grace normally enjoyed their banter, finding out over the last few weeks that Simon liked to tease Grace. He didn’t mind the teasing, it was never malicious and made him warm inside that Simon enjoyed his company. Grace, in his past on Earth, had trouble interpreting people’s humor, whether it was just for fun or if it was a passive aggressive barb masked in a joke.
Grace faced a dilemma, the eggs were hydrating and he needed to move to the cabinet behind Simon to fetch the wafers. It wouldn’t be a problem if he was wearing the pants he had made from his flight suit that had a loose fit. He had chosen a pair of shorts to sleep in that were made from a synthesized fabric that clung to his skin. Simon’s teasing had sent Grace’s blood to his lower extremities and he was hard…painfully hard. There was no way he could turn around until he calmed down.
Grace leaned as casually as he could against the prep table, slightly bending at the waist.
“Uh hey, Simon, could you toast the wafers for me? You know I’m fine with crunchy,” Grace was able to say that much, his voice cracking a bit.
Simon placed his right hand on Grace’s shoulder, concern in his voice, “Are you doing ok, Grace?” Simon’s fingers moved to Grace’s neck, pressing gently against his pulse point, “Is it your heart?”
“Right as rain, just a little out of breath from dancing, don’t forget, I’m an old man,” Grace joked weakly.
Simon removed his hand from Grace’s neck and backed away, “Early 40s isn’t old, Grace, but whatever.”
He heard the cabinet door open and took the opportunity to grab the bowl of eggs and two spoons from the prep table. Grace proceeded to speed waddle, bent at a severe degree, to the dining table set at the end of the narrow kitchen. He managed to put the bowl and spoons down without dropping them and slid into the seat to the right of the table. He peeked at Simon, and was relieved to see him at the cabinet, fishing wafers from their storage container. Grace covered his face with his hands and recited the periodic table in his head, forwards and backwards, over and over, until he felt some relief from the tightness in his groin.
A thud against the table startled Grace and he removed his hands from his face. Simon now sat before him, a squint of suspicion in his eyes.
“And you’re totally sure you’re ok, Grace? Because you’re not acting ok. You’re flushed, breathing heavy and I saw you go over to the table, limping and bent over.”
Simon reached out and grabbed a spoon with his right hand and offered the plate of wafers to Simon with his prosthetic arm. His mobility with the limb improved daily, impressing Grace with the speed at which Simon was acclimating to the new arm. Rocky had installed pressure plates inside the inner cuff of the arm, allowing Simon to control the arm’s movements with the remaining muscles in his residual limb.
Grace reached out and took 2 wafers, laying them directly on the table. He didn’t have time or the hands to grab a plate for himself. Simon eyed this action and commented, “One bowl? No plate for you?”
Grace shrugged, “I didn’t want to do many dishes.”
Simon rolled his eyes and dug his spoon in the eggs. He smeared them on a heavily toasted wafer and shoved it inside of his mouth. He briefly closed his eyes as he chewed. Grace loved sharing meals with Simon for several reasons. It was nice to have someone to talk to, Rocky and Adrian frequently declined Grace’s invitation to meals. They were disgusted by human eating habits, Grace had given up on inviting them. Watching Simon eat was far from disgusting, Grace got to enjoy his expressions and enthusiasm in eating bland food. Grace had to force the food down most days, it helped to see someone else plow through the boring rations like it was manna from heaven.
“You’re not eating. You need to eat.” Simon insisted. Grace blinked back to reality, remembering he needed to act normal.
“I’m not as hungry as I thought I was,” Grace said truthfully. He wasn’t, another meal of freeze dried eggs and toasted wafers did not interest him.
“That doesn’t matter, you still need to eat. I ate far worse things on Eden.” Simon had given him a few details about his life as a child and later, as a convict.
“Like what?”
Simon leaned back in his chair, a grim look creeping over his face, “Algae, roaches, glucose paste, whatever we could find.”
Grace shook his head, “How do you prepare roaches?”
Simon tilted his head forward, a dark grin on his face, “You don’t. You eat them straight from the lab, the fresher the better. They never gave us enough, cooking the little they did wasted energy and nutrients.”
Bile rose in Grace’s throat, thinking of eating live insects. “Live cockroaches?”
Simon’s dark grin grew wide, “Why do you think I like my wafers so crunchy?”
A wave of nausea hit Grace and he felt the heat drain from his cheeks. Simon stopped grinning and stood from the table. He walked over to Grace and knelt beside him, “I’m sorry, Grace, I didn’t mean to make you sick.”
Simon placed his right hand on Grace’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. Grace wobbly turned his head towards his friend, battling the urge to gag.
“Shit, I forgot,” Simon said as he reached into the front pocket of his pants. He retrieved a small plastic bag and opened it. He held it under Grace’s nose, “Breathe this in.”
A cool and sweet aroma filled Grace’s sinuses, crisp and green. The nausea eased a little and Grace felt the bile retreat down his esophagus. He raised his eyebrows, questioning Simon.
“It’s the first harvest of the herbs I sprouted, peppermint. It’s not a lot, just enough to make a tea. I know you can’t drink coffee right now, I thought it might help your craving for hot drinks.”
Tears pricked the corners of Grace’s eyes, Simon’s thoughtfulness overwhelmed him. A watery smile played on Grace’s lips and he inhaled the peppermint again.
“Could you make me a cup? Please?” Grace asked wanly.
Simon nodded and shot to his feet, hurrying to grab a mug from the prep table. He filled it with hot water from the tap on the wall. Simon returned to Grace and set the mug carefully in front of him. He dumped the mint leaves into the mug and pocketed the empty bag. He looked down at Grace, hesitating like he was unsure of what to do next
Grace reached out to pat Simon’s arm, reassuring him that he was ok.
“I’m feeling better. You can sit down and eat.”
Simon didn’t move immediately, inspecting Grace’s face. “You’re still pale.”
Grace clasped both of his hands over Simon’s right forearm, “Please, I’m fine.”
Simon finally moved back to his side of the table and Grace let go, regretting the loss of Simon’s warm skin. Grace learned over the steaming mug, breathing in the vapor of the peppermint steeping. He didn’t know how long it had been since he smelled peppermint but it was delicious. Simon had not resumed eating yet, staring at Grace.
“You’re not eating, Simon.”
“Neither are you, Grace.” Simon countered, growling a little on Grace’s name.
The growly pronunciation of his name made Grace’s pulse race. He picked up the tea and sipped at it. The icy heat of the tea cleared Grace’s head and the last of his nausea faded away. He smiled at Simon, “Thank you for the tea, it’s a miracle.”
Simon’s face twitched and he tucked his chin under, grumbling, “You’re welcome.”
Grace looked at the eggs and picked up his spoon, dipping a small bite out. He tucked it into his mouth and chewed. They still had no flavor but he felt he could eat a small portion.
Simon returned to the eggs, looking up frequently to make sure Grace was still eating. The rest of breakfast was spent in a strange but comfortable silence.