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Ryland wasn't sure how exactly it came up, but at some point during the evening, when he was doing dishes and Simon was eating his second plate of dinner, his sex life came up—or, lack thereof. Ryland would have been comfortable talking the rest of the night about it, or however much left of the evening it would take, but Simon chimed in unexpectedly.
“Yeah, I never really enjoyed it, but since it's the only way to have any intimacy with someone, I get what you mean.” He spoke around a mouthful of food, his tone casual like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“What?” Ryland paused and turned to frown behind him, his soapy hands still suspended above the sink. “What do you mean?”
“Hugs and the like are nice but they don't really do it, if you want anything more you have to have sex.” Simon shrugs, his left side facing Ryland as he continued to eat. “So if I needed intimacy, I had to have sex. Didn't enjoy it much but it was at least something.”
“Simon.” Grace was devastated, had the man really gone his whole life thinking that?
He quickly rinsed and dried his hands, coming to stand in front of Simon across the table.
“Simon.” He called again, and waited for the convict to make eye contact. He looked like he had no idea anything is wrong. “You don't need to have sex to have intimacy.” He said it slowly, watching Simon's face for any changes, and he frowned in confusion, like Grace was the idiot.
“Yes you do?” Simon quirked up an eyebrow, “What other way is there??” and he really looked like for all the world he expected Grace to not have an answer.
Grace could have probably explained it to him, but something aching in his heart with sorrow pleaded with him to just provide an example. He knew he was craving human contact at least, and if the hug they shared when they first arrived to the planet told him anything, it was that Simon felt the same.
Simon had held on a lot more tightly and a lot longer than Grace would consider normal, like he couldn't bear to let go. He seemed surprised by the hug as well, grasping back with all his strength, one arm across his back squeezing tightly. Grace was so relieved for something as simple as a hug that he didn't move away either, until Rocky came bounding in chirping excitedly about seeing Adrian again.
“Here, I'll show you.” Ryland offered his hand to Simon, and an interesting array of expressions flitted across his face as he stared at the offered hand. “I promise no funny business, if you don't like it, you can walk away, yeah?” He softly, trying to avoid spooking him out of the experience.
“Okay.” Simon spoke slowly, putting down his fork and taking Ryland's hand with a frown, like he wasn't quite sure why he was accepting in the first place.
With that Grace led the one armed man to his bed, feeling Simon's pace stutter at the door for only a moment before continuing. Ryland let his hand go and got onto on the bed, laying down in the center and propping his head up on pillows. He looked at Simon and he patted the bed next to him, trying to come off as casual and nonchalant as he could.
The other man just stared at Ryland for a moment, as if trying to suss out if there really was no funny business, then slowly, he got up onto the bed and shuffled over on his knees until he was sitting on them next to Grace.
The teacher hesitated for a moment, briefly, his anxiety sending a flurry of letters through to his brain for that tiny moment.
He forged ahead.
“Here, you lay next to me, just—“ His breath caught, anxiety flying through his heart like those letters out of the fireplace in that one magician's story. “Lay your head on my shoulder.” It had been a long time since he'd had any physical contact like this.
Simon opened and closed his mouth, a permanent frown on his forehead as he didn't move from where he was for more than a few moments. Then, cautiously, like he wasn't sure if it was right, he laid down on his stomach and put his head on Ryland's shoulder, his arm laying hesitantly across his torso.
Then Ryland had a heart attack, because he meant for Simon to lay on his back and put his head on his shoulder. This was ok too of course, he just wasn't expecting it. It was definitely a little more...familiar than what he was planning for Simon's first time cuddling. His heart was racing, he was sure it was just because he was worried he might spook Simon.
“Like...like this?” Simon asked quietly, and Ryland realized his hand was still up in the air where he moved it for Simon. “Am I doing it right?”
“Yeah.” Grace gently laid his hand over Simon's back, the muscles underneath jumping at the contact. “You got it, bud.”
Then he realized, he hadn't really thought this through, because what now? He cast his eyes around the room and thanked every star in the universe that he'd left his tablet on the left side of the bed, right where he fell asleep holding it last night. He reached over and picked it up, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as he turned it back on and continued reading the research paper he'd forgotten about.
Blame it on Rocky for rushing into his room that morning bustling about their success at growing oats. He was very excited to show the two humans his success at cultivating something completely alien to his planet.
Despite being an engineer, Rocky had quite the green thumb.
Ryland's thoughts were derailed as Simon slowly curled his arm more tightly around him, before his whole body froze, like he'd done something wrong.
“Move however you'd like.” Grace told him, his thumb swiping back and forth a few times in reassurance. “However you feel most comfortable is what's important here.”
This time there wasn't as much of a pause on Simon's end before he was moving. Carefully shifting further up, his hand came up to cradle Ryland's ribs, tucked up underneath them, his head nestling into Ryland's neck, his face angled towards the tablet like he was reading it too. Grace tilted the device a little more towards him, to give him something to look at, and continued to scroll.
He was steadfastly ignoring the flutter in his own chest at so much physical contact after so long, the anxiety in his chest reading as though he had feelings for the other man, which....he didn't, did he?
Didn't he?
Simon took a deep, heavy breath under his chin, letting the air out shakily as he relaxed a little more, and Grace found his hand moving up and down slowly on his back. Just a light touch, not pressing down yet, getting the man familiar with it. After the third pass of his hand though, he felt the convict melt into him, his whole body seemingly going limp. Grace almost laughed in soft relief and wonder, but he bit his lip to hold back, there was no chance Simon wouldn't take it to mean something negative.
Ryland's hand movements became more unconscious as he read, switching from flat palm to drawing designs with his fingers, up and down between Simon's shoulder blades, then switching back to a flat palm moving in swirling motions. Both men's breathing slowed and deepened, falling into a state of comfort the longer they held one another.
The day finished, and the sun 'set' outside, the temperature dropping a few degrees to simulate a regular earth day cycle. Simon shivered at one point, only wearing a tank top versus Ryland's shirt and cardigan, so the teacher paused his reading to reach over to the discarded blankets on the left side of the bed, grabbing the fluffiest one he had before passing it to his other hand.
He did his best to toss one end of it down to Simon's feet without jostling him too much, fussing with the top half to make sure it covered his arm and shoulders, tucking it in around his neck and laying his hand on top after.
Simon didn't move beyond using his feet to kick the blanket down a little further, seemingly content with how he was laying pressed up against Ryland from head to toe.
Ryland continued rubbing Simon's back, although he added a little more pressure now since there were more layers between them, an old habit from when he had a girlfriend and she used to cuddle up to him while he read. The texture of the blanket was nice under his palm, the repeated motions making the skin sensitive in a strangely satisfying way.
Ryland read on for a while longer, his hand coming to a stop at some point, Simon's breathing evening out long ago, and before the teacher could realize it, his own eyes were drooping shut and the tablet was falling limp onto the bed.
Some time later, Ryland woke up again, a cool breeze rustling through the open doorway and over his body. He was cool, but not cold, mostly due to the man plastered up against his side and snoring softly into his neck.
Apparently, at one point, Simon had shifted to tuck his face against Ryland, as well as throwing one of his legs over Grace's, their calves tangled together. Ryland basked in the feeling of contact, almost crying at the feeling as he finally remembered exactly how long it had been since he held someone like this, since he had been held. It was irreplaceable, and the longer he thought about it, the more water built up in his eyes.
He needed to get it together, he couldn't cry like this with Simon cuddled up to him, the shaking would undoubtedly wake the convict up. He took deep breaths to calm down, reaching up and wiping the tears away with his left hand, pushing his glasses up and letting them rest where they came to fall further down on his nose.
They really should get up to brush their teeth, it was bad practice to go to bed with plaque on them, and he should change out of his day clothes too.
But he couldn't make himself move, and he didn't want to. As soon as he did that the moment would end, and he would likely never come into contact with the only human around like this again.
Despite his efforts, however, Simon still woke up. He took a sharp breath as he came to wakefulness, holding still for a moment as he got his bearings, then sighing and shifting his weight to get more comfortable.
“Hey.” Ryland whispered, the convict stiffening under him, “Hey, hey,” he chuckled, “It's all good, don't worry.” and although Simon relaxed a little, he was still holding his muscles still, “We need to brush our teeth.” Grace told him, laughing a little more as Simon fully relaxed back into him.
“Do we have to?” Simon's voice was gravely, sleep tired and thick.
“Yes!” Ryland laughed a little more, his chest feeling light and full in a way he hadn't felt for years. He brought his right hand up to card through Simon's hair unthinkingly, trying to convince him. “There's no dentists here, if we get cavities, we're screwed.”
He was expecting a remark in return, something to keep the playful banter going, but what he received instead was a quiet whine when his fingers tugged on Simon's hair as they caught a tangle.
“Oh, sorry.” Grace's voice dropped back to a whisper, and when Simon didn't move or say anything, brought his fingers up under his hair to the base of his skull to run along the curve of it, pulling back down and away. Simon's breath hitched, and his hand flew back to grab Grace's before it was gone. Then, just as quickly, he was dropping it and curling his hand into a fist, bringing it to his chest.
“Sorry.” Simon murmured, Grace's hand hovering where Simon had left it, a few strands still tangled in between his fingers.
“You're all good, don't worry.” Ryland assured him, his hand coming down to pass soothingly over the convict's shoulders. “But we really do need to get up and brush our teeth.” Simon huffed out a laugh, his hand relaxing. “Come on, up, up.” But Grace made no move to get up, trying to convince the man on top of him to move first with a light push to the shoulder.
Simon sighed heavily in disappointment, shifting his forehead to Ryland's shoulder, causing the man to laugh softly.
“Come on, I know,” He assured the dark haired man, and in a move born of half asleep instincts, pressed a kiss to the top of Simon's head. It was something he used to do all the time with his girlfriend, a show of affection and reassurance. It usually worked to get her up when she was reluctant to move.
But Simon wasn't his girlfriend, he wasn't Ryland's partner, he was his friend he found abandoned in a leaking submarine that popped up in front of his and Rocky's ships. A friend he could very well lose now, if he took the gesture the wrong way.
“Oh my god i'msosorry.” Grace breathed out, the both of them frozen in their respective places, “I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking and I just—“ He made an agonized noise and rubbed at his face with his hand, knocking his glasses off. “That was uncalled for, I am so, so sorry, I really didn't—“
Then Simon was, somewhat clumsily, sitting up quickly and leaning over Grace, his eyes wide as he brought his face directly over the teacher's. For a brief moment, Grace thought he was going to kiss him, his heart rate spiking dangerously at the close proximity.
“I—Simon?” Ryland's voice was tight, barely breathing in anticipation.
“I—“ The man above him swallowed and looked off to the side. “I didn't mind it.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking down to Ryland's chest and over to his glasses, eye contact broken and remaining so. “I didn't mind. You can....keep doing that...if you want.” Then he connected their gazes once more, and seemed to realize for the first time how close his face was to Grace's. He took in a sharp breath and leaned back, not getting far before Grace was holding the back of his head with a hand.
God, what was he doing? He should just let Simon get up, end the moment here and now.
But he really, really didn't want it to end.
He guided Simon back down to his shoulder, trying to telegraph his intentions, and once he was close enough, pressed another kiss to his hair. Simon's breath stuttered, his arm coming underneath him to hold him up.
Then Ryland pressed another kiss to his hair, then one to his temple, gentle presses of his lips against his skin, then once again on his forehead. He kept the affection to the top half of Simon's face, not even pursing his lips anymore. He'd never kissed a man on the face this much before (He'd never kissed a man, period. But that was besides the point) It was a little strange and....precious.
Simon's breathing was shaky, and as Grace brought his lips down to the other temple, he shifted up a little further and offered more of his face. Ryland found himself pressing kisses down the side of his jaw, his lips dry from sleep, on his cheek and over each eye. Simon's breathing picked up, and if Grace was paying any attention to himself, he would have noticed his own matching in speed.
Grace pressed a kiss to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow and then the other, and just as he went to kiss his nose again, Simon let out a strangled noise, something small and quiet.
The next thing Grace knew, Simon's lips were on his, and he was taking a sharp breath in surprise. They didn't move their lips, just pressed against one another with their noses smushed into cheek, holding still for a moment to relish the contact.
Simon pulled back with no sound, both of their lips dry, and he stared at Grace lovingly for a moment before a frightened look passed over his face. Grace's heart was in his throat, unable to process what happened for a moment as he stared at his friend.
But whatever lack of power his conscious thinking had, his subconscious had plenty, and he found himself wanting more for the first time in his life. A desire for more, more closeness, more affection, more contact, raced through him with an intensity he'd always heard about but never experienced before. Not even with his girlfriend, and he had loved her.
Looking back, though, perhaps he hadn't loved her quite the way someone was supposed to when they were in a relationship. If he examined how he felt about Simon, it lined up much more accurately with the feelings he'd heard other's describe, feelings he fully thought himself incapable of experiencing.
Alongside the physical attraction he thought he was incapable of as well, although not like what people had described, he only felt a strong desire to stay close to him. He knew he wasn't gay, either, because he'd done plenty of online research in that department and it didn't inspire anything inside of him either. Nothing did, and the most he felt right now was a slight electricity racing through his body, nothing urging him to do anything beyond what they'd done so far.
Simon was looking more and more panicked at the prolonged silence, leaning further back away from Grace and looking as though he was about to cry. Oh cheese and crackers, Grace had just been staring at him lost in thought. Simon probably thought he was rejecting him.
Ryland's hand was still on his neck, and before Simon could move any further away, he pulled himself up and connected their lips again, albeit clumsily. It was brief, just to state his interest more than anything, and then he was leaning back and staring into Simon's eyes as they filled with wonder.
Simon swallowed hard and opened his mouth, trying to say something but giving up and closing it, then taking a deep breath and trying again.
“I don't want to...Do anythin—“
“I know.” Ryland interrupted, too eager to reassure him, “I'm good, me too. It's all good.” He smiled and laughed breathlessly. “We're in the same boat here, pal.”
Simon let out a huff in relief and thumped his forehead into Grace's, his hand coming up to cradle his jaw. They stayed together for a minute, just breathing and basking in the other's presence.
“I um, I don't know...” Simon began, clearing his throat, “I don't know if I'll want to do anything, at any point.” He sounded shy, like he was still expecting rejection.
“Same here,” Ryland grinned, feeling relief race through him at finding a kindred soul. “You let me know if that changes and I'll do the same, yeah? And if either of us doesn't feel the same, we don't do anything.”
“I...Yeah, that sounds...good.” Simon let out a laugh then paused, “I would like to, um, I would like to kiss you again though, if that's alright.”
“More than.” Ryland opened his eyes (When had he closed them?) and tilted up to meet Simon in another sweet kiss, still chaste, kissing a few times and then separating to stare at him, grinning like a fool.
“We still need to brush our teeth, though.” He told the convict, laughing as the man groaned and thumped his forehead into his shoulder. “Come on, now or never, then we can come back here and keep cuddling.” At that Simon perked back up, leaning back and grasping Ryland's hand to tug him out of bed.
“You have yourself a deal.”