Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Grace had to applaud the growth of the Eridian people. They had come a very long way with the technology of the biodome, and at such a rapid and steadily increasing pace. They were able to imitate fog shockingly well, along with sunshine and a cloudy day. They had been testing slightly diverse seasons by changing the temperature, lighting, and humidity. As great as all of that truly was, however, Grace would always find his way back to a foggy day with little to no faux sun.

A conversation with Adrian had led to the biodome team experimenting with different types of weather. Fog aside, he had mentioned missing the rain. San Francisco did not experience rain as often as some cities did, but he loved when it happened.

He would bike in it without a care in the world. His students would always crack jokes about his soaked hair, telling him he should be wearing an umbrella hat instead of a helmet. They would tease him for his squeaky Converse and laugh at his soggy jeans, but he did not mind. He loved it. He missed it. Even though he hated keeping his glasses dry, he felt like it was always him and his yellow rain jacket against the world.

Simon had never experienced rain. He knew what it was, as the elders of Eden would explain to the children how trees were meant to survive down on what was his version of Earth. His understanding of weather was limited to what he had been told, as there was never any need for the concept of climate or other environmental conditions where he came from. He lived in a space station with a dome housing a dying tree and that was all he had to know. Grace ached to change that.

Of course, like all things science and engineering related, the experimentation came first. The people of Erid were quick to learn that rain was an absolute nightmare for their sensory abilities. Weather on the planet had been relatively untalked about, but it was clear that there had not been a terrible amount of variation. Rain had been one thing that rarely ever happened on Erid, and when it did, it was brief, or in places where Eridians did not inhabit.

That was not too out of the ordinary, Grace knew. Back on Earth, humans do not populate places with horrendous weather conditions. If they do, they live with precautions and an environment with a strong enough structure to withstand the elements. It was also the same reason why certain states were just plain, flat farmland.

With this newfound information, Ryland was eager to help in perfecting it. Adrian, along with an Eridian couple by the names of Chess and Checkers (names given to them because of the square patterns and mate marks on their bodies and very telling of their distinct differences in their personalities), found his help to be invaluable.

They were confused, however, to learn that rain would encourage the two of them to likely stay in the home for most of the day. Grace had to explain that weather like rain, thunderstorms, heavy fog, and even snow could be considered dangerous conditions on Earth. It was wired in a lot of people to use days with these sorts of conditions as lazy days or days to only get things done within the home.

Checkers was the one who was quick to understand, eager to express his sudden idea of perhaps putting rain on a schedule to increase mood and ambiance for the two humans. Chess, ever the logical thinker, butt in and reminded her mate that they would have to find a way to get it to work, first. Grace had encouraged them to take their time, and that Simon and he would enjoy it whenever they had the chance to figure it out.

That day came much faster than he had been expecting.

This morning, only roughly a week since the last time he spoke with the Eridians on the matter, the two of them awoke to the sound of rain pattering down against their window. The faux clouds were a shade darker than usual, the dome looking more gray than it usually is in the fog.

Grace had rolled over to face the window first, watercolor eyes blinking against the light that still made its way into the room. Sprawled over his bare chest was a mess of dark wavy hair as Simon turned to get a look, as well. One of Ryland’s hands came up to rub his partner’s back through his shirt. New weather phenomenon this may be, Simon was tired, and Grace’s torso was apparently the most comfortable place in the whole house.

“Mornin’,” the scientist whispered against the top of his head.

“Mmh,” was all Simon offered.

He chuckled. “You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, the vibration of his throat being nearly directly over his thumping heart.

Grace smiles and continues to run his fingers over his clothed back. Simon’s right arm shifted from beneath the pillow he had been using, and he raised his head to allow him to free it. With a heavy sigh and a mighty yawn that made his jaw pop, Simon rose from his chest and peered down at him.

“That the rain you’ve been working on, I’m guessing?”

“Sounds like it,” Ryland leans up, pressing a kiss to the corner of Simon’s mouth. “Wanna see?”

He is quiet for a moment as he flops onto his back beside him, hair cascading beneath his head and over his shoulders as he cannot help but yawn once more. A mighty stretch pulls its way through him, bringing his arm up and extending his legs out as far as he could possibly get them. His shirt raises and his lightly spasming muscles make his body quiver.

“Breakfast, first,” Simon states, and Ryland almost misses it.

The two pull themselves from the bed that Grace once called his own. They started sleeping in the same room shortly after the kiss they shared, and a few dozen more had been exchanged since then. It had been hard for either of them to really imagine what it felt like to sleep alone again after the first night.

Simon rarely ever spent time in his own room, anymore. It had been turned into a workshop of sorts, one where the once-convict is now able to express his newfound interest in horticulture and agronomy. Erid was a poor planet to indulge in these studies, but it was clear that he did not care. He would research things, learn things about Earth ecology, and even dove into botany. Eden had done enough with pulling that thread of curiosity loose, and with all of the new technology he had access to, Simon had grabbed ahold of that thread and ran.

It was refreshing to have another person to talk biology with. Grace had not been a plant biologist, but the years he spent teaching children allowed him to expand his knowledge on all things science related. Even talking with the teachers in grades around him was nice. They would sit in the lounge together and discuss lesson plans and projects and experiments and how much it was going to cost the school to replace a few scorched ceiling tiles.

Even sitting at the kitchen table that sat next to the window looking out at the ocean they were given, Grace wanted nothing more than to talk to Simon about his interests. His request of breakfast coming first did not go unanswered, and he was careful to allow him a quiet moment to get some fuel in his system before he would begin to bombard him with questions.

Simon had been the first to pipe up, asking a question unrelated to the rain or anything science, for that matter. Ryland gave him an answer that seemed to satisfy him, and the two went back to the peaceful lull that draped over the dinner table. He couldn’t help the wobbly smile that came to his face.

Domesticity was something he yearned for back on Earth. His love life sucked, to put it simply, and he was never any good romance. Stratt had punched him right in the gut when she made the observation of him not wanting to even chase a romantic partner in fear of heartbreak. He never liked how easy she read him, like his emotions and thoughts were always in large bold lettering splayed across his forehead and she was reading them aloud with a megaphone, but that was neither here nor there. But he was here, not there. So it was here, just not there. Or something.

He really wished he could tell Stratt to shove it.

He let out a small laugh through his nose as the two finished their breakfast and handed off the dishes to an already awaiting Armando. The arms twist and click in response, and Grace thanks the robot on both of their behalfs.

Okay. So.

Sitting inside the home and observing the rain is nice! Simon really seems to enjoy the sounds of the tiny droplets tinkering against the window and the sound they make on the angular roof. Grace thinks it really does add a bit of variety and mixes up the monotony of absolute silence for a change. That’s good! 

Standing in it, though? God, it was like standing in an ice bath.

The temperature had been worked on while he was present for the experimentation, so he wondered if there was something wrong with their cooling system. Perhaps it was working too well, or perhaps it had malfunctioned? Whatever the case, they both agreed that they would wait for the rain to end before either of them were meant to trek across the beach to meet with one of the Eridians in charge.

For now, the two opt to make it a lazy day. Lord only knows they could never have enough of those.

They had stripped off their damp clothes and tossed them into the laundry room twenty minutes ago. Whenever they would get to them, they were unsure, but the prospect of just being able to enjoy a day inside without any obligations was too overwhelming to put aside to focus on laundry.

Grace had found himself in his bedroom with a tablet in his hands. He used it to read, for the most part, curling up in a nest of his blankets and quilts and pillows just to indulge in a world of whatever lay beyond the digital pages before him. It was always one of his favorite things to do back when it would rain in San Francisco.

He reminisced a little as he scrolled through his options. When he had been a teacher, rainy days had always been his favorite. He would always be one of the teachers to volunteer to host a small amount of children when recess was held indoors. As the rain would come down in small bursts, or even sheets, he would always smile out at them.

The kids who chose his room were always the quieter ones. They would usually be the ones who would use this extra time in a classroom to get ahead on homework or read. These students usually left him be, save for the pleasantries they would give him when they came and went.

After a few more moments of deliberation, Ryland finally settled on a different book he had already read before, one before the coma. He knew the title, knew the name of the main character and something important that happens around the middle, but that was about it. He knows it has already been said, but who wouldn’t want to reread a book for the first time again? He thinks he liked it, so what’s the harm?

The cool air of the room was perfect for this bundle of blankets he had found himself in. He tried to remember the last time he felt so utterly comfortable, but knew not to dwell too hard on it.

“You don’t mind if I read with ya’?”

Simon’s voice pulled Grace’s attention away from the earlier pages as he stood in the doorway. He had been shirtless with just a pair of loose lounge pants on. His hair was tied up into a ponytail, headband keeping all the small strays from getting in his eyes. The bandage still sat on the left side of his face. He tried not to stare.

“Not at all,” Grace responds, reaching out to pat the spot next to him after his eyes shamelessly take him in. He wondered if that was about as terribly not subtle as it felt.

There was no hesitation in the way Simon crawled into the bed next to him, laying flat on his stomach and using his own pillow to rest under his chest and underarms to prop himself up. He held a slightly smaller tablet in his hands, the cover of a botanist book on the screen.

It did not take the two of them long to find themselves immersed in their stories. To be so comfortable just being quiet and enjoying something of their own interests was blissful. He found himself smiling as he read, though his mind was not truthfully immersed in the book quite yet.

As time slowly ticked by and the more the two of them rolled around to get comfortable after a little while, the closer the two of them became. Ryland had even kicked the blanket to only cover his lower half so Simon could lay his back across his legs as a sort of backrest as he read. It allowed Grace to use his free hand to run over his lover’s exposed skin, gently thumbing over a scar that had been on his shoulder. Simon hummed and could not help but lean slightly into the touch.

Ryland loved to use his hands to bring any sort of comfort to Simon that he could. It was not every day the two of them got to relax so self-indulgently like this, so whenever he had the chance, he took it. Simon never rejected his touch, always seeming to wordlessly ask for him to continue for a little while longer. He knew he always would.

The small motion of his thumb on his scar moved to his palm lightly running over his bicep. His skin was not terribly smooth and almost completely hairless on his left arm due to the scarring, but Grace never seemed to mind. His hand moved carefully and slowly, only pausing occasionally when he would become too immersed in a sequence in his story. If he had paused for too long, Simon would shift his body a bit to remind him to continue. If Simon thought he was being sly by doing that, Grace could see right through him. It was cute.

Shifting his hips to get a little more comfortable, Ryland sat partially on his rear with his back pressed against the headboard, facing slightly away from Simon. It had been the position he started in. His knees were brought up to his chest before he tipped them to the right, letting them loosely fall until they were comfortable.

Simon did not take too long to bring himself back to being as close as he could manage to his boyfriend. His bare shoulders pressed against his thighs and hip, acting as a perfect rest to prop himself up to read. Ryland looked down at him and shifted hands with the tablet, freeing up a hand to, once again, be able to touch Simon.

This time, his hand came down to his chest. It rested on his left pec for a moment as he looked for the spot he had just left off in his book. When he found it, his thumb found his sternum and gently rubbed up and down. If he pushed his thumb down just enough, he could feel his steady heartbeat.

Ryland was careful to continue that motion as he read. His story was beginning to introduce a few new characters into the mix. As he read the names on the screen, a vague memory came to his mind of really liking one of these characters. It had been one that he liked a lot, now that he thought back on it. So much so that he even remembered having a small drawing of them from one of his students magnetized to his desk back in his classroom.

He smiled at the story as he continued, a small chuckle rumbling through him. The more he read, the more he understood why he liked this character. They were funny, bad at interacting with a large group of travellers, and was an alchemist. Not a very good one, but it was clear they were trying! Sort of!

It had not been until a break in the scene where Grace noticed he had stopped moving his hand. Simon had not shifted to tell him to move it, but he had noticed it on his own. Through his fingertips, he felt for the thumping of Simon’s heart, only to find that it had begun to pound faster than it had been a few minutes ago. His breathing had even become heavier. He tilted his tablet and looked over at him, glancing down to make sure he was okay.

Simon’s small device had been off and set down in his lap. His head had been back and tilted to look away from Ryland just enough to not be able to see his eyes. It was apparent now that he had been breathing a little heavier than before, and his chest was rising and falling at a much less steady pace.

“Simon,” Grace started, hand beginning to slowly move against his chest once more. He wanted to ask if everything was alright, but the question sort of fell to the back of his throat as he ran his hand over the tight, smooth skin. His soft palm ran over Simon’s left nipple unintentionally, drawing a soft gasp from him.

Oh.

Oh, fudge.

Grace retracted his hand, probably a little faster than he should have. Simon noticed and sat up, looking back at him with wide, almost horrified eyes.

“Sorry,” they spoke at the same time.

Simon seemed to find his words first as he shifted, face flushed. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

He spoke quickly, something Grace noticed he did only when he was nervous or scared. Simon could barely even meet his eyes as he sat up on his knees.

Worried he was going to leave without another word, Ryland rushed to think of what to say before he could. He was terrible at stuff like this. Obviously they had never done anything, let alone talk about it, so he didn’t even know where to start.

It isn’t like he had never thought about it, though.

“Simon,” he repeated his name, trying desperately to ignore the burning of his cheeks as he looked up to his face.

Visibly swallowing hard, Simon finally met Ryland’s eyes. His own gaze was shifty, brown eyes almost afraid to meet blue in fear of the disgust or disappointment he may come to face. He does not even want to open his mouth, worried that the wrong thing would slip out, and he would simply ruin everything.

Instead of that disdain he was sure he would find, he took a deep breath as Grace’s eyebrows tilted, eyes filled with what looked to be worry. No, it felt deeper than that. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek as he watches the blonde inch towards him with a desperate look on his face. He was not great at reading body language. He had no real basis to go off of. Wishing he could turn his brain off, he remained still.

When Ryland’s hand finds his wrist, it’s soft. His digits are careful to bring it forward and hold it up so their fingers can interlock. He drops his eyes down to look at their hands for a moment before he wets his lips in anticipation.

“Is this okay?” Grace asks, their faces inches apart.

“Yeah,” Simon barely even let him finish his sentence before he breathed out the word. With all of the care in the world, Ryland smiled at him. It reaches his eyes and his face creeps closer until he can feel his breath on his skin.

The kiss is slow and exploratory. Their heads tilt to either side, succeeding in deepening it on both of their parts. Grace brought up one of his hands to slowly cup Simon’s face, his fingers holding his head in place as if to ground them to this very moment.

Ryland brought the two of them down from sitting up on their knees to sitting on their feet and calves. The tenseness that had been sucking the life out of Simon began to melt away as their lips moved against each other’s.

It ended with just as much caution as it had started, the two of them drawing away from one another, but only by a few inches. Their faces were flushed, hearts beating in their chests, and their eyes could barely hold the other’s gaze for more than a second.

Grace wondered for a second if this was going to be the farthest they go. Again, the two had never even talked about advancing farther than kissing. He never had a problem with that. Never once did he think that their relationship was lacking, nor did he feel unfulfilled with what Simon had to offer. If sex was not on the table, that was that. There would be no sense in trying to argue when it came to intimacy, period. He wanted Simon to be happy.

Sitting here on the bed, his breath hot as he lightly panted—when he had gotten so worked up..?—with his lips just inches away from his lover’s, he felt like he was bursting with affection. His fingers felt overly sensitive to the gentle squeezes Simon’s hands gave him, as if to bring him back to the moment.

“Ryland,” Simon spoke, his voice cracking as he did so. His lips closed and his jaw clenched before he tried again. “I love you.”

Grace feels his heart skip a beat. He never tired of hearing those beautiful words from his low voice. He always spoke them like they were sacred, like they weren’t meant for anyone other than him.

“I love you, too, Simon.”

Their voices were equally as hushed. Perhaps it had been the nerves on both of their parts. They both shared the fear of speaking too loud, not wanting to suddenly spook the other. Their touches were so soft, so gentle as if the other was made of glass or ceramic. Grace absentmindedly worried that his approach to this was making him more nervous than he had to be.

Grace was not inexperienced. He had a girlfriend for some time and even had the occasional fling in college. He had a few experiences with people of all different sorts, men included. He wondered if the man sitting across from him could say the same.

Simon steeled himself, his composure flooding back to him much faster than it had to his lover. They sat inches apart from each other, bodies so close but barely touching at all. It felt impossible. As if not meaning to do so, the dark hair of the man began to bob as he nodded. It looked as if he was psyching himself up for something.

“At any point,” Simon began, his voice a little steadier than before, but not by much, “I want you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. We can… stop at any time. If you want to start, that is.”

Ryland watched him wind up the pitch and throw it to him. Steady, level, and at perfect speed, the offer seemed to hang in front of him for just a second. It granted him a flawless opportunity to swing.

He moved his hands, dropping them both down to Simon’s thighs. His lounge pants felt too thick as he dragged his hands up them from his knees and up to his hips. They held there, firm and reassuring, as he pulled him a little closer. He went with no protests, chests pressing against one another. Simon let out a breath, one that landed directly against Grace’s lips and cheek. 

“As long as you promise to do the same,” Grace’s voice is clear with no hint of a stutter of worry.

Their eyes met once again, inky blotches spilling over into the late afternoon blue with a neediness that was so clearly reciprocated. The hint of a smile on Ryland’s lips is what finally did him in, sending Simon lurching forward with such vigor, it sent the blond square onto his back.

He only had a moment to gasp in surprise before he was silenced with a kiss. This one had been so different from all of the others they had ever shared. Simon’s mouth moved with less care and more desire. Ryland’s did the same, his chin and neck flexing to try his best to get closer to the man above him. He was caged in by his right arm, resting on the side of his head by its forearm, allowing Simon to balance himself perfectly over him.

While his hand was busy, Grace’s were free to do as they pleased. The kiss kept his mind busy, but he still wanted to feel his lover in ways he never had before. Their chests were barely touching, and that irritated him. He wanted to feel him closer, needed to feel him against his body.

His hands came up and drifted carefully over Simon’s back. The way he had been balancing himself, legs open wide and caging him in by the hips and only able to really use one of his arms for support, his body was flexing plenty of muscles. Grace had never really had the chance to appreciate it in such a lustful way. That needed to change.

His hands were all over his back and shoulders, nails gently dragging against the skin experimentally. It had been faint, barely even enough to leave any marks, but it had been enough to draw a low, hardly audible groan from Simon. The rush of heat that flowed to Grace’s lap could have rivaled that of the Eridian atmosphere.

They moved once more, wrapping around to his front. With the small space between them, he used it as an opening to draw his pale fingers from his shoulders to his pecs. Simon seemed to stiffen atop him, as if his body was anticipating what was to come.

Grace’s thumbs massaged circles into his chest, slow and deliberately. The kissing halted as Simon’s arm shook, bracing his head down on Ryland’s shoulder. He tried to catch his breath, but the touching was making it so painfully hard. Grace was smiling as he continued, palming over his chest and hardened nipples.

“Feel good?” Ryland whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Simon’s scarred ear.

“Mhm,” was all Simon could say.

He chuckled, though it was quickly halted by the sensation of lips against his neck. The control had begun to slip from him as he felt the wet lips of Simon messily kissing against his skin. His beard ran against him, the coarse hair sending goosebumps over his skin like a blanket. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his head to the side to allow for better access. His fingers moved with less care, aiming to create the needed stimulation to keep Simon groaning against him.

There was shifting that was attempted. The man above Ryland moved his hips down just a tad before raising them. Their bodies were hot, the clothing was too much and in the way, and neither of them really knew what to do next. This was perfect, they both seemed to think, as Simon went to go back down to assault his neck with another barrage of heated kisses.

When his legs widened to bring himself back down, Grace’s hips moved on their own. The single, mindless buck upwards caused their clothed groins to meet, and holy gosh was it pure bliss.

The two moaned, catching their lips with one another once again. Ryland hadn’t noticed when his hands had travelled down to grab Simon’s hips, but the grip he had on them was intense. He held them steady for what felt like an eternity as they kissed. Sloppy and uncoordinated, they exchanged spit and hums and whatever they began to do with their tongues was messy and probably disgusting, but it felt so good.

They had seen each other nude before. They had bathed together, showered together, slept bare, and all of the odds and ends couples do. They had touched their bodies together in intimate moments of love and affection in the past. They had shared kisses in places soft and sentimental. None of it had ever elicited a reaction from him like this. None of those things had made either of them feel like this.

Grace, forever a scientist and an overthinker, wondered if it had been the acceptance of touch. Perhaps it had been Simon’s reaction to his touch that did something to him. Maybe he had been so worried about doing the wrong thing for so long that his mind never even thought to do anything at all.

Simon was the first to break the kiss and pull Grace from his own head once again. He raised his head to look down at him and Ryland felt himself throb in the confine of his boxers at the expression he was met with. Eyebrows tight and knotted together mixed with pink, raw and wet lips that had just been on his. Needy brown eyes stare down at him, almost weepy looking.

“Ryland,” he breathed out, his low voice so dangerously quiet. He felt some resistance against the hold he had on his hips. “Please… I need to feel you against me, Ry…”

His fingers lessened their grip, but he did not release it. Simon’s hips attempted to grind downwards, only succeeding in grazing the bulge in Grace’s pants. He let out a soft breath as his teeth clenched together. He began to pant, blinking hard as he tried once again, then twice.

“You’re fucking evil,” he whimpered. Grace felt himself twitch, having to refrain from bucking his own hips. Instead, he leaned up and carefully caught Simon’s lips in brief exchange.

“Can we switch?” Ryland asks against his bandaged cheek and into his ear.

Simon looks down at him for a moment, his eyes looking more siren-like the further they go. It was alluring, and Grace had to fight the urge to cave in to every single desire he has ever had all in a single moment. He was able to push the thought from his mind when his question was answered with an enthusiastic nod.

It only took a few seconds for the two of them to change their positions. Simon was quick to lay back, head propped up with a pillow to avoid laying directly on his ponytail. When Ryland offered to take it out for him, he refused.

“I want to see you,” he said through heavy breaths. His olive skin was flush from panting, perky chest rising and falling as he did so. “I don’t want my hair to get in the way.”

Ryland was leaking. He could feel it against his boxers. God, he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt.

Before taking his spot over him, Grace raised his hands over his head and stripped off his shirt. Where Simon’s chest was completely bare, Ryland had tufts of thin, almost golden chest hair trickling between his pecs and fading into thicker, near brown hair just below his bellybutton. It was shaved close days ago, the regrowth being a perfect length, he thought. Simon’s happy trail was darker but started a bit shallower. His was slim.

“It’s a fuckin’ sin you don’t walk around here like that all the time,” Simon chimes in, eyes raking over every inch of Grace.

He fought not to hide himself, instead doing the rare deed of accepting the compliment and using it as fuel. His smile was cheeky as he approached Simon on the bed. They seemed to watch each other. It was a hard bet on who was wanting who more.

“Really?” There was an upward inflection in the way he asked. “You’re so sweet to me, Si,” he coos.

Ryland pushes Simon’s legs together so it would be easier to straddle his thighs. They were so muscular, he took a second to run his hands up and down them. The pressure he put on them was even and meticulous, eyes flicking up to look up his expression as he massaged. His glasses fell to the bottom of his nose as he observed the look on his beautiful man’s face.

He could see him unraveling beneath him, and he hasn’t even done anything to him, yet. It was rotten of him to have so much power over him, he knew, but it was easy. The trust between them had been built over a full year of being on this planet together, not a single explicit thought so much as even shared between them. No lustful touches, no needy makeout sessions, not even talk of masturbation.

“Baby,” the desperation in Simon’s voice, in the unexpected petname, struck Grace through the heart so fast it made him dizzy. “Fuck, please..! Please—ah—stop teasin’ me…”

Simon had his arms over his head, right hand gripping the top of the headboard with pale knuckles. His face was so red and flushed. Flicking his gaze down to the bulge he had been massaging around, he wondered how they kept their paws off each other.

Ryland nodded, though only did partially as he asked. His fingers moved purposefully up his thighs and up his groin. His thumbs came together, just once dragging themselves from the base to the tip of the solid tent he was pitching. Simon’s hips tried to buck as a heavy moan left him, but the weight atop them had been too great.

Grace met his eyes as his fingers curled in the waistband of his pants and boxers. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Simon knew exactly what he wanted.

“Yes,” he blurted out, voice surprisingly steady. “Yes you can. Please. Yours too.”

He finally obliged his request, hooking his fingers and tugging. He tried not to ogle like an idiot at the sight as he slowly revealed it to himself, but finally being able to witness Simon in this state, it was almost impossible not to. His cock twitched, leaning down towards the light bed of black hair against Simon’s stomach. There was a visible throb as it hit the cool air of the room. He looked a little longer than average, and there was an upward curve that ended in a neutral pink tip.  A bead of precum sat at his slit, acting like the cherry on top.

The staring went on for a beat too long, Simon’s hips wiggling in search of release. He let out a soft and untouched moan. Grace acknowledged his plea, forcing himself to look up to meet his face. His posture straightened, the smallest bit of leverage allowing Simon to rut his hips faintly upwards, and a smile crept onto the blonde’s face.

He obliged in his plea, tugging on his own pants and undergarments. They would not have sat comfortably at his mid thigh, so he did a semi-awkward shuffle to kick them from his legs completely. Now, left only in his socks and fogged up glasses, he stared down at their erections while straddling Simon’s thighs once again.

Grace’s was just as long, paler and more flushed with pinks than the other. His had no curve, hanging in front of him and threatening to bow downwards from the sheer amount of heat throbbing beneath his skin. His eyes were half closed as he inched his hips up, forward and painfully close to his lovers.

Ryland felt his chest heave a single time as he leaned down, the connection sending sparks through his entire body. He let out a whiny moan, the sound mixing with Simon’s low and breathy plea. Their bodies grinded together, Grace’s hips taking the lead as he tested the amount of pressure to apply.

The skin on skin was electric. The room felt so hot as he looked down at Simon’s face, his expression screwed into pleasure from just the grinding alone. Grace could really feel him, now. He was so hard, the heat burning against his abdomen like a mini fire in the pit of his stomach as he bucked his hips with a slowly steadying rhythm.

“I-” Simon began to speak, eyes falling closed and head tilting backwards. His chin was trembling and his face looked like it was beginning to slick with sweat. The words sounded like they died in the back of his throat, the rocking of their bodies consuming him entirely.

His hips were moving, too. After going so long with literally no stimulation, he was surprised the two of them hadn’t finished the second their bodies touched when they kissed. Going from nothing to this, the grind of their cocks against the other was almost too much.

“I’m not gonna last,” he finally choked out between panting. “Ry– Oh…! Ryland…”

“Me– mnh– neither,” Grace panted. “You feel… so good..! God, you’re so– so good for me,” his words were slurring. He couldn’t help it.

Simon brought his arm up and grabbed him by the shoulder. His eyes were wide and desperate. His mouth was hung open, words hanging in the space between them that could almost be heard from how hard he seemed to be thinking about what he wanted to say. The bucking of his hips slowed, Ryland taking that as his cue to slow down as well. It almost killed him to do it, but he did not want to push his luck.

“Fuck, baby,” Simon huffed, tugging him down hard. They crashed into each other in another hot and messy kiss. Ryland couldn’t help but move his body again. It was so hard not to. Their weeping tips were allowing some lubricant between them, adding to the drive to want to continue so desperately. “I need… you, fucking… I need to have you. Can I pl- please? Would that be okay?”

Ryland’s eyes closed hard, head falling down between his shoulder and his neck. He was so close. He could feel it at the base of his spine, the tingling sensation that once rested as lust in his gut had been dragged down with force to pure and utter euphoria in his lower abdomen. It sat deep within him, drawing his cock to throb and twitch and balls to tighten.

“I’m…” Grace feels like even speaking would be enough to send him over the edge. He drops his volume and hums a single time before continuing. “M’not gonna last. I’m right, like, right there.”

There is a pause for a moment. Simon nods knowingly, understanding that it would be foolish to push for something he knew his lover could not handle at the moment. He was so considerate of his feelings, of his body and was careful not to cross boundaries. His hand on his shoulder softened its grip and moved to rub slow circles against the side of his ribcage.

Grace made up his mind.

“Then,” Simon’s hips move a little, wanting the friction back so desperately, “I want you to–”

“I need to have you, too, Simon,” Ryland interrupts.

When he looked up to meet his eyes, they were blown wide. Brown and filled with lust, Grace worried that, if he opened them any wider, he would simply fall into them. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Ryland… I need you to be sure.”

The two meet for another kiss. This one was slower, but it brought their bodies together once again. Moans and soft pants had nowhere to go but into the drowning mess of saliva and need that seeped between them. He stopped moving by sheer will, needing the tension in his abdomen to die down, even just a little bit.

Their lips fell away from each other as Grace nodded. “I- I don’t think I’ve ever—ah—been so certain of anything… in my entire life. But,” he looked up to meet his face, bringing his hand up to the left side of his face, “can we take this off? I n- need to see your face. All of it.”

The pleas did not fall on deaf ears, though it was clear Simon had to think about it for a moment. He could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his options and what he wanted to do. Grace smiled and leaned back, their bodies separating for just enough of a moment for their cocks to ache, already missing the others touch.

Grace brought his hand to his mouth and spit into it. Their erections were already slick with precum, but it had not been enough. He wanted his hand to glide along his lover in a way that was most pleasurable for him. It did the job as he guided his hand against the top of his cock and gripped him firmly before slowly going up and down.

Simon’s hips bucked upwards with such force that Ryland felt himself raise a little off his thighs. All he could do was smile as he continued to pump him. His wrist would twist occasionally, making sure he was slick. He even brought his hand back up to his mouth and repeated the action.

“You don’t have to,” Grace reassured him as his hips moved, crawling up to straddle his hips. “Just know that I want to see you.”

Simon had his hand on Ryland’s waist as he leaned over him. His eyes closed as he felt the blonde press a gentle kiss to his forehead, right beneath his headband. It was so soft. Everything about what he said and wanted had been so soft and tender. It made his heart throb, among other things.

He removed his hand from his waist and brought two fingers to his mouth. Grace watched him curiously as Simon wet his fingers before watching them slip from his lips and disappear behind himself. The realization of what they had been for made his face grow a deep crimson. The feeling of his hand grabbing at his rear was new, drawing a whiny mumble from him.

“Gonna work you open for a minute,” Simon said before swallowing. It seemed he had made up his mind, too. “You can… take it off whenever you want. I trust you, Ry.”

He wanted to thank him. Grace wanted to gush about how brave he had been for allowing him to do that. The second his mouth opened, the words became nothing but stuttered gasps and whines as he felt the fingers slowly drag up his rim. He swallowed the compliments for a moment to regain his composure, but the sensation rendered him speechless.

His hips relaxed, and he felt Simon prod. The look given to him by the man beneath him was so full, he almost wanted to tell him to look away. His eyes were watching him, studying his reactions, and when he felt the tip of his finger slip into him, Simon drew his lower lip between his teeth at the moan he let out.

Grace’s body felt weak as he worked the finger in and out of him slowly. With each careful penetration, he pushed in further. The stretch was not foreign to him, but, again, it had been such a long time since he had done anything like this. His body was reacting how he expected to, which was always good, but the pressure was threatening to build faster than before.

“Oh my…” Ryland breathed out as he felt a second finger begin to tease him. He could hear the noises he was making. If he was making these sounds ten minutes ago, he probably would have been embarrassed. Instead, he watched what they did to the man beneath him.

As if on cue, Simon’s bassy voice spoke out. “You sound so good, Ryland,” he praised, doing enough to his body to allow the second finger to slide right in. “Fuck, yes, listen to you…”

The way he talked was working him up faster. His hips began to move but only slightly. Taking that as a gesture of approval, Simon’s fingers plunged deeper, filling him up to his knuckles. He was hasty in drawing them back out, almost all the way, and sliding them back in. His arms that were holding him up felt weak as he began to pant. The slightly strained sounds left his throat weakly. His glasses fell to the base of his nose again, and he did not bother to fix them.

Looking down between them, Grace was throbbing against Simon’s stomach. His cock was flush and needy, pounding with so much heat that it was making him dizzy. He needed release so desperately, and he worried that Simon’s fingers were going to do that before he had a chance to really have him.

The sensation of emptiness with suddenly consuming. He whined as he felt the hand fall away from his rear and grab firmly onto his hips, his fingers hot from his own wetness. The singular hand guided him, and Grace went willingly.

Anticipation burned like magma within him as he felt Simon’s length against him. It was so hot and he had to straighten his posture to be able to give him a proper opening. Standing upright on his knees, he brought his body down once to grind against his throbbing, then twice. He was so slick with his spit.

When he finally caught, Ryland tensed for just a moment, back arching as he felt the tip pressing in ever so carefully. His eyes flicked down to look at Simon, watching his expression as he took him in at an agonizingly slow pace. His jaw fell open at the stretch, letting out stringy sounds of pleasure and mild struggle. There was no pain, though that was not completely unexpected. He was the most aroused he had ever been in his entire life, so needy and wanting of anything that was to come. And fuck did he want so desperately to be what came next.

One of his hands came up and ran a hand through his hair, wiping away the small beads of sweat that began to pearl against his skin. His other came down to grab onto Simon’s forearm, only succeeding and pulling himself further onto him with a high moan.

“You look so,” Simon paused to let out a moan, clearly struggling beneath him, “so fucking good.”

“Shut up,” Grace says breathlessly, the corner of his lip curling up into a smile. “Keep talking… Oh, jeez–ah, like that, and I’m gonna ex- plode.”

“So tempting,” his velvety voice hits him in the gut as he bottoms out. Grace’s eyes clench shut so hard that he sees colors in the corners of his vision. The moan that escapes him is so pitiful, so needy.

When he opened them, he realized he had begun reaching towards Simon’s face before he could even really tell himself to. The man beneath him watches with glossy eyes, clearly trying to be as normal about what was about to happen as humanly possible. He tilted his head to the side to allow Grace purchase on the bandage.

Simon loved how soft his skinnier fingers could be. With one hand, he was mindful of the facial hair the patch was stuck to, sliding his finger beneath it and carefully pulling it with the grain to minimize catching against his beard. He felt the air of the room touch his marred skin and the mutation on the left side of his cheek. He could not help it when he felt the second set of teeth shift as if they were clenching, reflecting his hesitance.

He was silent and unable to even look at Ryland as he felt him draw away. On top of him, he could feel his breathing begin to speed up. He was worried it had scared him, freaked him out, or just simply turned him off. Simon wouldn’t blame him.

He felt Grace lean back, hands catching on his thighs, and his hips raise. With an unsteady motion, one driven by pure arousal, he dropped himself back down onto him.

The feeling was explosive. Simon’s cock was throbbing within him, the tightness of his body surrounding him with an intensity he had never experienced before. Their moans combined with the sound of pattering rain drops against the window, the song the two of them began to sing in unison as Grace kept his pace.

“There y- you are…” Ryland cooed. “So handsome, baby.”

He could barely think at the sight before him. Grace’s hips moved shakily, but it was getting the job done flawlessly. His body was so fucking hot, he felt like he was on fire. It was a sweet and savory combination of emotions that fought within him.

He hadn’t realized how good it felt to simply be seen. The man on top of him rode him, coming apart against him as he used his cock to make himself feel good, but never once did he look away from him. His blue eyes raked over every single inch of him. Whether or not he deemed the part hard to look at or not, Ryland’s gaze made him question how he could view anything on his body as such. The love and adoration that beat down on him from above was sweet enough to give him a toothache.

He felt adored and cherished. The lewd sounds that clawed their way out of their throats and met in the air between them intertwined to be proof of pleasure the two were giving each other. Simon felt seen. He felt so loved.

Oh my god, and Ryland felt so fucking good.

“So,” the blonde’s words were barely that, “perfect. You– oh god, you’re so… so perfect, Simon.”

Brown eyes traced over pale skin, loving just how flushed he looked atop him like this. His cock bounced with him, the gentle thwap of the underside making contact with his stomach. It was leaking, dripping onto his abdomen in clear dots that glistened in the gray light of the room. His eyes were transfixed by it.

He pulsed within him, his chest heaving as he let out low moan after moan. His hand on his hip held firmly, assisting in steadying and guiding him down as his pace began to increase. It was becoming overwhelming.

Ryland’s entire brain was fogged with bliss. He could feel Simon just barely hinting over his most sensitive spot. It was intoxicating. His moans were breathy and messy, some of them drawn out pleas and babble that meant nothing at all. He could feel himself winding tighter. The tingling sensation at the base of his spine was beginning to claw its way forward, lurching ever closer as he began to even his pace.

The attempt was futile. He felt pressure on his rear as Simon brought his knees up and tipped Grace forwards. His eyes widened and his glasses finally fell from his face, lamely slipping onto the pillow right above Simon’s head. The shorter man wrapped his muscular arm around his ribs, his left bicep trying to do the same. He needed them close. He needed to feel him closer.

Grace let out a string of blissful curses as Simon began to thrust into him. They buried their faces in each other’s neck and indulged in one another. The sound of skin on skin and lustful cries was so heavenly. It was perfect, they both thought.

Simon’s hips adjusted and set a bit lower, and the next thrust deep into him made Ryland see stars. He was pretty sure he was saying something, begging for him to keep hitting that spot, but the overwhelming feeling made his brian so foggy. He felt like he was floating in his desperate grasp. His forehead pressed against Simon’s neck and his lips mindlessly grazed and kissed his skin messily.

“Cum for me,” Simon was saying, repeating it over and over again into his ear. His words were surprisingly steady, broken into small sentences with small breaths between in order to keep it that way. “Please, Ryland. Cum for me. Want to cum for you. You’re so fucking good. So perfect. Fuck, Angel, you’re so fucking good to me. I want you to cum for me so bad. Give it to me, Ryland.”

The mixture of the relentless pounding and the friction of his cock against Simon’s abdomen, the convincing wasn’t even needed. He was not even able to get a nod in, not even able to say anything more than a barely intelligible mhm before felt the tingling spread like fire. It burned white hot in the gut before the aching feeling in his erection turned to ecstasy.

He felt himself let go so violently that he began to shake. Strings of cum shot between them, coating the lower half of both of their bodies in a hot, sticky mess. He had been holding it in for so much longer than he realized, and it felt endless and Simon worked him through it. His hips never halted, never ceased their movements, even as Ryland grabbed a hold of his shoulders and let out high pitched whimpers and keens.

The grip Simon had on Grace was beyond impressive for a man with just a singular arm. He seemed unbothered, if not fueled, by the slick between them as he began to pant. He knew what was to come, knew where he wanted it, and was literally still dribbling out in small bursts at the feeling and thought of being really filled.

It did not take too much longer. He was almost glad, as he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have been able to take. Simon’s fingernails helplessly dragged across Ryland’s back as his hips stuttered before planting a final thrust hard and deep. The noise that escaped his lips hitched, and Grace couldn’t help but bite his lip. It was so lewd, so utterly unholy, but he could not care less. The heat that spilled into him drew a whimper from him, muting it himself as he kissed the soft skin of Simon’s neck once more. His tongue ran across it gently, the salty flavor of his sweat sitting savory in his mouth. He bit his lip and smiled against him.

For a moment, the two sat in a panting, chest heaving mess of limbs. Their hearts were pounding in unison with one another, the feeling bringing them so much comfort, it was almost enough to lull them into a midday nap right then.

“Mmh,” it was Simon who hummed, his grip having lessened. “You okay?”

He felt his heart throb and he let out a soft, airy chuckle. Always so considerate.

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained and struggling to catch. “How about you?”

Simon’s hand moved to rub slow circles into his back, carefully running over the skin he had unintentionally torn at just a few moments ago. He pressed a soft kiss into his shoulder, lips dry from the heavy breathing.

“Phenomenal,” he let out a laugh through his nose as he spoke the word. “That was so… good. You did so good, Ryland.”

“You did, too,” he hums, finally bringing himself to sit a little more upright. His knees were beginning to get sore, achy from the pressure and weight against them. He kissed his chin, then began to pepper kisses over the left side of his face while bathing him in compliments. “You’re so amazing. So strong. Incredibly handsome. So talented. So sexy.”

Simon grimaced and scoffed, making an overexaggerated sound of disgust. He turned his face a little, mumbling out, “don’t kiss there, what if it eats your face,” between kisses. It was an act, he knew, and when Grace continued, his persistence was rewarded with low, chest rumbling giggles and laughter. Their smiles were infectious to each other. They melted together in a slow and love soaked kiss, the buzz of the events slowly fading.

“Okay,” Grace said, being the first to break the kiss and adjusting his hips. “I gotta get up. We gotta clean up.”

Simon frowned as he watched Ryland sit up, hips slowly raising until he was up and off of him. The air had slowly started to go back to its cool temperature, and it hit his slick, softening cock like a brick wall. He hissed at the absence of warmth and looked to Grace, who only succeeded and flopping onto his stomach on the bed next to him.

“Your entire stomach is a mess, Ry,” he pointed out. “And you’re getting it on the sheets.”

He watched as his brows furrowed, a long groan leaving him. “We’ll do laundry.”

Simon rolled his eyes and smiled while sitting up, reaching over to sinfully run a hand up Grace’s thigh. The fuzz on the back of his leg was soft against his hand as he trailed it up the swell of his ass and gave it a firm squeeze. He reveled in the small sigh he let out, clearly not uninterested in his touch quite yet.

He swallowed as he leaned over him a bit, hand still holding firm against the soft flesh beneath his palms. He pushed slightly, revealing the tight, messy pucker at the center. Ryland’s hips twitched as he brought his arms up and crossed them, burying his face in the crook in one of his elbows.

“Si,” he breathed. His hips were betraying him, rocking back and forth from simply being observed.

“You’re still hard,” he said it like it had been the most obvious thing. It probably had, as the angle of his torso was allowing himself to grind it into the mattress.

Grace swallowed. “Unrelated.”

“Is it?” Simon challenges, grip more firm than before, spreading him open a tad wider and allowing a bit of the mess he had made within him to spill out. He couldn’t help but hum at the sight. “Tell me if this is too much, okay?”

“If what– Oh!”

In one planned movement, Simon had shifted and leaned down, dragging his tongue along the tight rim. It lingered there for a second, hand holding his hips up a little higher in order to reach and gauge if he was tensing. He had for a second, but when his tongue flattened against him, he felt the blonde relax and cry out into the sheets.

“Can you get out one more, baby?” Simon asked, voice low and barely audible against him. “Really make a mess of the sheets before we clean ‘em?”

The filthy talking was experimental, though it clearly landed in all the right spots. Ryland was speechless as he nodded his head rapidly. From where he was seated, he could see his ears were bright red, hot and burning from the exposure. It was so cute. So fucking perfect.

Grace brought one of his hands down and began to pump himself. Seeing this, Simon wasted little time in getting back to work with his tongue. The sounds were sopping wet, lip smacking and low groans escaping him at the taste of himself seeping from the deepest parts of his lover. He had never done this before, but seeing the mess that had been made, he considered this to be part of his end of the clean up.

His tongue worked methodically, prodding and flattening in a rhythm. Ryland was so tight, his body tensing as he fisted his weeping cock rapidly. Simon was impressed with the utter vigor he had applied so rapidly. It only encouraged him to work with just as much enthusiasm. His fingers massaged his hips, aiding in the grinding motion they had mindlessly begun.

It did not take long for there to be a second climax. Grace let out a sharp breath, a crackling moan escaping with it as he spilled himself all over the sheets and his hand. His shoulders were heaving with his chest, the exposed muscles literally making Simon’s mouth water. Fuck, he was so lucky.

With one final motion of control, Simon carefully flipped him over. He landed on his back, a better position to be laying in to catch his breath than his stomach, anyways, and looked at the delicious sight beneath him. His lips fell low once more, licking a stripe up the underside of his oversensitive shaft just to get a taste of him. Ryland was about to protest, not being able to handle anything more, but was silenced when Simon captured his lips in a disgustingly sweet kiss.

“You’re…” Grace had to figure out how to speak before he continued his sentence, clearing his throat as a buffer. “You’re incredible. That was… That was so incredible.”

Simon smiled, this one softer and more content. “And you’re a mess. Want me to run a bath?”

Grace smiled back. “Yes, please.”

He leaned up, and their lips met again. Softer and gentle, this time.

“I love you,” Ryland says, still a little breathless. Simon could not help the wobbly lip those words gave him.

“I love you, too, Angel.”