Chapter Text
Grace must’ve expected it, deep down; buried beneath the exhilarating and terrifying realization that he was about to live a whole new life on a whole new planet. It took them around one Earth year to get to that point, busy with planning and building a biodome where he could live. Busy with trying to navigate what all this now meant for them; for him, for the Eridians, for Rocky.
Rocky’s suit was as close as they could ever get, and Grace quite literally fell to his knees when he saw him in it the first time. The promise of something so very neatly laid out before him in the shape of an almost skin-tight enclosure in the exact shape of Rocky, with the exception of his fingers, as Grace called them.
All this meant that they could touch now. It wasn’t like on Earth. There was still an enclosure between them, only Rocky could maneuver it much better now. Could hug and shove and pat him much more easily, to Grace’s delight. He’d known he’d been touch starved, but it was nothing compared to finally being able to press his face against Rocky and keep it there, feeling his attempt at hugging him back using three of his arms and laughing as he engulfed him.
“Hug okay?” he asked and Grace laughed again and found that he couldn’t stop.
“It’s perfect, buddy, just perfect.”
“Good. Grace laughing! It means Grace is happy.”
“I’m really, really happy.”
It took them longer to get to the point that Grace hadn’t actively been waiting for, though most likely subconsciously anticipating. They fumbled through it all the first month; neither of them used to being able to touch like this, and so sometimes they forgot, only to be reminded that Rocky could in fact wrap one of his arms around him if he wanted to. Could ruffle his hair and lean against him if he wanted. And Grace? Well, Grace could seek out the affection without words, because Rocky was learning to understand his body language better. Knew that when he scooted closer and pressed their shoulders together it was an invitation, tentative as it was.
Rocky never denied him this, even if it wasn’t necessarily the way Eridians showed affection. Grace tried not to take advantage of his willingness. He was, mostly, satisfied with what he got.
Plus he had the machine, and now he could use it without the embarrassing reality of being observed. Though he kind of missed Rocky’s presence. More than he was willing to admit.
“Is Grace still using the machine?” Rocky asked one day, seemingly out of nowhere, though if Grace hadn’t been gripped with the usual embarrassment that always made him dumber, he would’ve realized that Rocky was asking because he’d been fidgeting in that sleep-deprived, agitated way of his. Rocky was probably asking because his first exposure to tickling had been when Grace had been trying to tickle himself to sleep way back in space. This was Rocky’s way of asking why the heck he was cranky.
But Grace would only realize that later. “W-what? The machine? Uh. Yes, I use it sometimes,” he admitted and did his best to keep his gaze on the water. “It works just fine if that’s what you’re asking. No need for any tweaks.“
Rocky had taken it from him for three days to make some improvements Grace had asked for (variations in the vibrations, and maybe a remote he could use if he would be so kind). It had been embarrassing as heck to bring it up, even though Rocky had been overjoyed to help and didn’t even tease him about it.
Those had been the longest three days of Grace’s Erid life.
Rocky gestured to him in a very human way when Grace finally turned toward him. “Then why Grace no use it last night?” He did the equivalent of a headtilt. “Grace wants Rocky’s help?”
And Grace, who had used the machine liberally since getting his house installed in the biodome, realized that, yes, he did really want Rocky’s help.
He nodded before his brain caught up to his actions. “Uh, I mean- I mean, that’s a possibility now, right? And you’ve been curious about it.”
“Yes.”
“So, really, it would be a waste not to conduct an experiment.”
“Grace likes it.”
Grace hummed and turned back to the water. “Yes.”
“Rocky will make Grace happy.”
“You always do.”
He scooted closer. “Rocky will make Grace more happy.”
Grace, who had been tickled but always at his own accord, felt the almost unfamiliar panic settle over him when Rocky raised one of his hands with such specific intention. Knowing he was strong. Knowing he wanted this as badly as he did.
It was terrifying. And it was beautiful.
He held up his own hands. “Heh. Wait a minute.”
“Grace is nervous.”
“Oh, hush, of course I’m nervous. I haven’t done this in years. And it’s kind of part of the experience.”
“Noted.” Rocky wiggled his hand in the air. “Grace is giggling.”
“I am not.” He totally was, and he found that now that he’d started he really couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t like the machine. There was play in this, finally, finally. As Grace leaned away instinctively, still sitting in the sand in front of the water, Rocky leaned forward, almost hovered over him now. He briefly considered running, just for the sake of it, only he would then have to explain that the chase was usually part of it; that the adrenaline of being caught and pinned down did something to him. Grace was, believe it or not, not really in the mood to have to teach Rocky things right now. Better let him learn by doing. The ball was in his court.
Rocky was strong, was the first thought to cross his mind when he felt the weight of him. Strong and heavy. Placing one of his hands between Grace’s legs, he used one of the others to gently push him down until he was almost entirely horizontal. Grace wasn’t sure how Rocky knew how to navigate this. He’d probably explained it at some point, most likely while drowning in embarrassment. He was, though blushing his head off now anyway, eternally grateful to his past self for having pushed through, for giving him this gift of Rocky knowing exactly what to do now that he could.
The first attempt came in the form of a poke just below his ribs where Rocky probably knew he was sensitive. Grace, who was already a giggly mess from the anticipation of it, scrambled to shove him off without really contemplating whether it tickled him or not, but when Rocky used another hand to poke at his side - unfair how many hands he had, quite frankly - Grace found himself gasping from how ticklish it was.
“Holy- whahait!”
The pokes came from all over now, going for both his sides, his ribs, even hips. They were surprisingly gentle, and Grace was just about managing to keep himself from howling when Rocky suddenly switched tactics and started squeezing.
“Ro-Rocky!”
Rocky made a sound of glee and used his third hand, the only one left which wasn’t holding him up, to go for his knee. Now the thing about Grace’s knees - you could squeeze, poke, scribble or just look at them and it would tickle. It was a curse as bad as any. Only Rocky somehow managed to pick the absolute worst option of them all and wrapped his hand around it in a very skillful imitation of the tickle machine (Grace always did suspect it was modelled after him) and somehow managed to both squeeze and vibrate at the same time, sending excruciating ticklish shockwaves through Grace’s whole leg.
He grabbed one of his arms. “Oh my god, Rocky, stop, I can’t-”
“Grace too ticklish?”
“That’s such a mean question- ah!”
He couldn’t pull his leg away, though that was the only part of him that was fully trapped. There was a cruel mercy to it, the way he could flail and squirm and still not get away from the sensation. It was like his machine, only ten times worse because now he had a witness again. He had someone who did this specifically for his reactions.
Now how was Grace supposed to just digest that?
“Rocky, please.” He leaned his head back, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. “Please switch spots, I’m dying here, oh my god-”
“Grace not die!” Rocky unwrapped his hand from around his leg, though he didn’t give him more than a few seconds to breathe. Instead, he curled his hand beneath Grace’s chin, which was much more bearable but still left him cackling like a maniac. “Better?”
“B-better,” he managed, scrunching up his shoulders.
“Fun?”
“Yes. F-fun.” What was the point in denying anything when Rocky knew his very soul at this point anyway?
“Rocky add another hand?”
“Y-yes, that’s fine. Heh. Oh my god, not there!” He tried to fold in on himself when Rocky started poking at his belly, though there was no great urgency to his movements. Simply a weak attempt at shielding himself, but too exhausted already to fight back properly. He was unused to this, he realized. Had Rocky decided to chase him he would’ve lost within seconds.
And, well, Grace wasn’t too mad at the idea of that.
Rocky added a third hand without asking, though he was gentle now; ghosting over Grace’s skin without lingering too long at one spot, leaving him jumpy and giggly, most likely looking really pathetic where he was lying. But just because Rocky knew his soul, or so he thought, it didn’t mean that Grace’s own humanly self-consciousness wasn’t overshadowing the very truth which was sitting so obviously before him: that Rocky found him cuter than he could ever explain, in any language, in any life.
“Grace is having fun?”
“Hng. Yes. I am, okay? I am.”
“Grace always embarrassed. Silly.”
“Yes. Very silly. Aha, not my feet, Rocky, please-”
In the midst of it all, beneath the giggly panic which kept his mind entirely occupied, there was a part of him which was trying to hold onto this, this very first playful ticklish contact, and remember it forever. This thing he’d been waiting for all along.