Chapter Text
Morning light shifted through the curtains and fell in dapples across Grace’s face. He grumbled slightly, rolling over and trying to keep sleeping.
In the big bed. In the big, comfy, too large bed that wasn’t his own. Grace shot up instantly.
Where am I?
The night came back to him in broken pieces. The shattered mug, the fight between Grace and his brother. The night in the alleyway. And then going home with a complete stranger and staying in his guest room.
I’m such an idiot. Grace internally groaned, burying his face in his hands. What was he thinking? He could’ve gotten kidnapped…or killed! Had all those self-defense classes when he was younger (that Courtland INSISTED ON) meant nothing?
I mean seriously. Stranger danger was like…a thing you learned about when you were three. Grace had tossed it completely out the window.
Slowly, Grace pulled himself up. His legs were tangled in the satin sheets of the- remarkably nice- four post bed. The room was huge, and covered in navy and gold accents, clearly trying to replicate a feeling of royalty. Stars were painted on the ceiling.
Apparently, Simon Fisher was filthy rich. Or a criminal.
Grace blinked. Did I go home with a criminal?
Slowly, he pushed himself out of bed and scrambled for his glasses lying on the nightstand next to him. Grace was still in his clothes from yesterday, rumpled and kind of uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to make sense of …everything around. It was all just so twisted and tangled he really wasn’t certain of it at all anymore.
And Colt…god, he’d just up and left his brother. But he didn’t want to go back- he couldn’t bear the thought of facing him yet. Tensions would still be high.
His brother had never actually hurt him. Not until yesterday. Not until the words dug so deep in his chest it made Ryland question if he could ever hope to unbury himself again.
Shaking his head as if to clear the spiraling thoughts away, Grace pushed himself towards the door. He opened it into a large hallway, leading down a grand corridor of the mansion.
Gosh darn it.
Why did this guy have to be hot and kind and rich? That was like…the worst combination ever. For Grace’s sake at least.
Slowly, moving down the hallway in bare feet, Grace made his way to a spiral staircase that descended into a wide open living room foyer area, with floor-to-ceiling windows. It was decorated in white and gray furniture, and featured sage green accents and live plants.
Behind it was a small kitchen and an island bar, with comfortable looking white stools. On top of one of the stools, swiveling back and forth by one leg, was Simon Fisher.
His hair had been pulled back and he was nursing a warm mug of something, eyes lost in thought. He was in an oversized black t-shirt and loose green sweatpants. His prosthetic arm was rubbing his other shoulder slightly.
Grace winced as his foot hit a floorboard that creaked loudly, and Simon turned at the noise.
The man lifted his cup in a sort of “cheers” gesture. “Good morning,” he said, a softness planted in his voice.
“Nice morning, I like your house good.” Grace froze, as the words stumbled over themselves. Simon smirked, trying to hide it behind his mug, and Grace’s face heated up. “Uh…sorry, I’m still tired.” He offered weakly.
“I can tell,” Simon retorted, clearly amused by the display.
He lifted himself off the barstool and crossed slowly into the kitchen as Grace paced forwards and sat on one of the barstools, away from the one that Simon had just vacated.
Simon narrowed his eyes and looked Grace up and down. The man shifted uncomfortably under Simon’s dark gaze. He felt like he was being analyzed- like a sample underneath a microscopic or something.
Simon clicked his teeth together and pointed at Grace. “I’m gonna guess you drink coffee for caffeine sake, and not for any real reason other than that, and therefore you don’t really enjoy it unless it's 99% milk and sugar.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “How did-?”
Simon grinned. “You’re not the first stranger I’ve picked up off the street.” He offered almost as if that meant nothing. Grace blinked, taken aback by how subtly he just mentioned it.
The older man swallowed nervously.
“How uh- how many have you-?”
“Two.” Simon explained, not even glancing back at Grace as he grabbed milk from the fridge and started filling the mug to the top. “And that includes you.”
Turning back, Simon slid the coffee mug across the table to Grace. It was printed with a picture of Monet’s Water Lilies. Grace blinked. He hadn’t taken Simon as an art lover, but that just goes to show how far stereotypes get you.
Grace sipped his milk-with-coffee. It was…better than anything he’d had in days. He smiled as he let the warmth spread into his palms, curling his hands protectively around the mug.
“Two, huh?” He asked, watching as Simon finished up his own cup and started to rinse it in the sink. “Do I get to know about the other one?”
Simon finished putting away the mug in the dishwasher and wiped off the remaining water onto his sweatpants. “Do I get to know about you?” Simon asked back.
Ryland searched his eyes, almost nervously. “Do you…want to?”
Grace knew he wasn’t an interesting person. Failure in the academic world, born without a bravery gene- probably because his twin brother took them both. Not a good family situation at home- which was another sob story that no one ever wanted to hear or ask about. And now he was sitting in a stranger's kitchen, in a stranger's mansion, where he definitely shouldn’t be, and was embarrassed to be.
Somehow, his siblings were the most interesting thing about him, and so when he was asked to share something he normally just ended up sharing about them. But right now he didn’t want to think about Court, and he couldn’t think about Colt, and so his mind was running on empty and he had no interesting facts.
He’d always dreaded ice breakers at school. When it got to him and he was told to say a fun fact, he’d either say some nerdy thing like a foxes scientific name is Vulpes, Vulpes, or he’d say some annoying truth like if the sun dims, we’re so dead.
No one wanted to know about Ryland Grace.
Except of course, rich stranger Simon Fisher, who was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow like, duh, that’s why I asked.
“Uh…I’m not that close with my family.” Anymore. “I was kind of exploring the alleyway late at night cause me and my twin brother had a…little spat. We’re identical, me and him, but he’s always been the cool one, y'know? I’m the brains, he’s the brawn. I like science, and nerdy things, and I have a doctorate in microbiology, but I got kicked out of the academic field cause I have, frankly, frightening anger issues.”
Grace hesitated.
“Sorry, you probably didn’t want to know all that. My childhood was…bad.”
Simon smiled a little sadly and gave Grace a nod. “Hey, I feel you there. And don’t worry, I like to learn about people. They’re often more interesting than they think they are.”
Grace lifted his head and smiled as he met Simon’s eyes. Simon’s face was a tiny bit red. Grace wondered if he’d gotten a sunburn recently.
“So, tell me about this other stranger you rescued.” Grace asked, immediately pushing back the conversation to what they were originally going to talk about. “Same situation? Was he also getting mugged?”
Simon groaned and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. And he didn’t know where he was, and he’s kind of hard of hearing so why he went without his partner, I have no idea.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “He has a partner?” The scientist immediately butted in, unable to help himself. Simon nodded frantically.
“Yes! And they were worried sick! You’d think a guy would be considerate.” Simon shook his head a tiny bit. “Anyways, his name is Ricardo James Eridian, but he goes by ‘Rocky’. He said it’s what people called him in high school, but I genuinely just think it’s because his partner’s name is Adrian.”
“Rocky and Adrian.” Grace chuckled under his breath. “Are they nice?”
“Like, so nice. As long as Adrian doesn’t think you kidnapped their husband. They gave me a bloody nose for that one.” Simon popped his fingers, smiling at the memory. “But Rocky- he’s got this, like, gravity-defying hair. I don’t know how he does it.”
“Was that a Wicked reference?” Grace asked.
“Wicked?” Simon raised an eyebrow.
“Defying Gravity? The song? From the uh- from the musical?” There was silence for a long moment until Grace’s face dropped. “Oh my god, have you never seen it?”
Simon shrugged slightly. “I don’t watch musicals.” Was all he responded with.
“Well maybe while I’m staying here we-“ Grace immediately cut himself off, realizing what he was saying. Simon didn’t even blink, just raised an eyebrow.
“We…?” He prompted, asking Grace to finish.
“No I-“ Grace froze. “I didn’t mean to assume that I could- I mean it’s your house, so I-,”
“Grace.” Simon tapped the table thoughtfully. “You know that when I rescued you from a mugger in an alleyway, I assumed you needed a place to stay, right? Do you think I’m suddenly going to kick you out? Rocky stayed for two months before Adrian finally found him and nearly burned the house down.”
“But I-“
“You can leave at any time.” Simon explained quickly. He pressed his hand into Grace’s, and Grace felt his face flush before Simon pulled back. “I’m not keeping you here- that’s not the goal. But if you need time, if you want time to rediscover yourself and who you are and stuff- you can stay here. As long as you want. We both know I have enough rooms in this house.”
Grace smiled a tiny bit, though it wavered. “I don’t…” his voice died on his tongue. He swallowed and tried again. “I just met you…I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Whoever told you you were?”
And god…wasn’t that a question that just broke Ryland. Because as long as he’d been here, in this house, with this man, no one had expected stuff of him. No one had been asking him for things.
The patient was always the one hurting. But the caretaker could be hurt too. Overwhelm, overwork, anxiety, stress, nerves, hurt…
And the caretaker never let themselves feel it until they were away from the patient. Never.
The first drops of rain hit the floor-to-ceiling windows. Simon was still watching Grace, who felt rooted to the spot. Frozen.
“Grace?” Simon asked. He reached for him then paused. “You…alright?”
Grace blinked and reached up, feeling something wet slip down his face. A tear. Oh. He was crying. An odd feeling came over him as he let out a chuckle.
“Sorry,” he wheezed out. “You probably think I’m the strangest man ever.”
“Yeah.” Simon smiled, taking Grace’s empty mug slowly and beginning to rinse it out. “I do.” Simon reached down and set it in the dishwasher. “It’s a nice change of pace.”
Grace let out another little noise that could’ve been either a laugh or a sob. Simon crossed around the island to rub Grace’s back for a moment before tugging him up.
“Come on.” Simon offered softly. “I kind of want to show you something.”
Grace stood, pulled up by Simon and followed the man through the halls, and downstairs. Grace blinked at the luxury room around but Simon didn’t stop in any of them. Instead he went straight for the room at the very end of the hall. Grace looked at him as Simon paused and turned back.
“You can’t make fun of me.” Simon quickly said, frowning tightly and looking behind him nervously.
“I’m not going to make fun of you.” Grace immediately responded. Simon nodded slightly and pushed the door open to see a HUGE interior garden. Winding stone paths crossed over small koi ponds, and a fake rock waterfall flowed from one wall. Real flowers and a few trees were spread about and the roof was made of stained green glass that let light through but was impossible to see through.
“Simon…” Grace breathed out in a rush, looking around the space. “This…”
“My favorite room in the whole house.” Simon muttered, cutting him off. “Uh…I’m a huge fan of plants. I’ve also got a greenhouse in the back gardens, but this is just…different? I don’t know. I really like it. Find it calming.” Simon glanced over at Grace, and wiped a tear away from Grace’s face, his face going slightly pink as he did so delicately. “Thought you might too.”
Grace nodded slightly and slowly crossed over the stone paths. “It’s…really nice.” Grace agreed softly. “Really nice.”
Simon smiled and Grace crossed over the stone paths, looking around at the scenery. Plenty of live flowers in all different shades made it feel like the whole room was alive with color. Simon followed at a careful distance as Grace inspected, touched, and sniffed plenty of the surrounding flowers.
Eventually, Grace began to make his way towards the back wall where trees overhung and sheltered the ground. Grace noticed that there seemed to be a big, main one. He reached out his fingers and brushed it lightly against the bark.
“That one is my favorite.” Simon spoke up from behind him, walking forwards to be beside Grace again. “See how the leaves spread out? They provide so much shade. And they’re thick, so the light they let through looks almost shattered. It’s amazing.”
Grace nodded. “Maple trees.” He said without thinking. “Been around for like, 100 million years according to most scientists. Their seeds are winged, sometimes called whirlybirds because they’ll spin while falling down to the ground. They have tons of sap inside of them, but even so it still takes about 40 gallons just to produce one gallon of maple syrup. And normally syrup production doesn’t even come from these types of maples, it comes from sugar maples which are way…different…” he trailed off as he caught Simon staring at him.
“Sorry,” Grace muttered without thinking. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. “I like maple trees too. Find them interesting.”
Simon smiled, a slow gleam appearing in his eyes as he looked at Grace. “You know all that just for maple trees?” He asked, tone hopping up with excitement. Grace paused his rubbing to stare back at Simon.
“Yeah?”
Simon grinned like a child at Christmas and walked over to gesture at another tree. “What about this one? Do you know about this one?”
“That’s an acacia tree,” Grace explained, coming to stand beside him. “How did you even-? Those only grow in Africa.”
“Tell me facts.” Simon said quickly. “Do you know facts?”
“Well…they can fold up their leaves to let rain through so it soaks the ground. And the only animals who normally eat off of them are giraffes, because giraffe tongues can reach in between thorns.” Grace admitted, a tiny bit sheepish. Simon watched him through his dark eyes that softened with his smile.
“Wow.” Simon whispered. “You’re really amazing at explaining things.” Grace nearly sobbed (again, man he was a mess) at that.
Not you’re really smart, not you sure do talk a lot, not even you know a lot of facts.
Something that was Grace, strictly Grace’s, a talent of his own. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Simon smiled softly. “Of course. You know, if you wanted too while you’re here, you could definitely help me out with some things like the plants.” Simon shifted his prosthetic arm. “I can’t do everything super flexible with this. Not to mention you’ve got a few inches of height on me. You would be really helpful if you wanted to.”
Grace watched Simon and curled his lips upwards softly. “I’d like that.”
Simon nodded and just smiled a bit, Grace’s heart squeezing at the man’s soft expression. Then his phone began to ring. Simon reached for it, and frowned at the contact. “Sorry…work stuff. Do you mind?”
Grace shook his head and Simon stepped out of the room to take the call.
Grace paused as the door swung shut and he looked around the garden. Grace was with a stranger. In a stranger's house. In a stranger’s favorite room.
He was worried that he wasn’t as worried about this as he should be. It felt like he should be more anxious, more fearful. But there was no reason to feel that way. Simon hadn’t given him any reason to distrust him yet.
There had to be another shoe to drop, right? Things weren’t ever that easy. Not for Grace.
Or maybe…maybe this time there wasn’t. Maybe this time Grace could accept that there actually wasn’t.
The door swung open again and Simon stepped back into the room. Grace turned to him, a slight smile blooming on his face. Simon raised one of his eyebrows, looking Grace up and down in confusion.
“You…good?” He asked, tone taking on a tone of slight concern.
“Yeah.” Grace responded softly. “Yeah no, I’m…I’m good.” The scientist rolled out his shoulders softly, wincing a tiny bit at the way they popped. “Work stuff alright?”
“All good.” Simon rolled his eyes. “You won’t believe the prices clients rip us off for these days though. I mean seriously, these people…” as Simon trailed off in a slight ramble, Grace just smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets, happy to listen to the man all day.
I don’t want to be a burden. Repeated in his head, over and over again. And softer, quieter, insistent:
Whoever told you you were?
In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Grace didn’t even have to look to know it was Colt again. He turned the notifications off before turning his attention back to Simon.
Colt would be fine. They’d talk later.