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    Summary

    “I can’t,” Simon pleaded, voice breaking. “Fuck, Ryland, I can’t, I can’t—”
    “Even if I want you to?” Grace asked, and Simon’s breath caught in his chest. “Let go, Simon. Whatever you want to do to me, I’m game.”
    “Don’t say that. Fuck, don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
    “Don't discredit me. I know what I want.”
    Simon jerked away from him with a snarl. “You’re gonna get hurt. I can’t control myself.”
    “Then let me help you.

    Four months ago, the Eridians found a human welded into a metal box on the bottom of an ocean made of human blood, and somehow that's not the weirdest thing about the man. Even after they let him out of quarantine, he doesn't talk much, and Grace keeps a cordial but distant relationship with him--until he gets sick with some mystery illness and Grace gets tasked with helping him recover, because surely he knows what to do. (Spoiler alert: he doesn't. But he figures it out.)

    Chapter 1: relatively innocent sick fic
    Chapter 2: *laughs*

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