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There were several benefits to living on Erid. For one, Grace knew he would never be able to leave Rocky. The two were attached at the hip, or well, Grace’s hip, not so much Rocky’s. The vast amount of information at his fingertips was also a reason to stay. He’d gotten on rather well with Adrian since they were also interested in biology.
There was a final benefit that Grace hadn’t taken into account when he first came to Erid – too focused on making sure that he didn’t die to pay attention to anything else. See, Eridians didn’t have the same concepts of gender and sex that humans had. Grace knew that from the start since Eridians were monosexual, that they didn’t have concepts of “male” and “female”. At first, Grace just took it as face value, interested – of course – and focused on the biological aspects of the species.
It wasn’t until he was actually living amongst the Eridians that he thought about the cultural consequences of such a biological phenomenon.
Grace looked through the clothes he’d pulled from the Hail Mary. It was a vast variety. He’d circled through most of them while he was on the ship without much thought – especially before Rocky came around. He’d been in such a negative headspace it was a wonder he was able to change at all. Once Rocky came around though, he changed. Sure, he didn’t need to, but he did.
Instead of wearing Ilyukina’s clothes, he kept to his own pants and t-shirts, Yao’s too. It wasn’t that he thought Rocky would judge him – after all, Grace was the only human Rocky had ever met so it wasn’t like the other had much to go off to. Everything was internal. Grace wanted to be perceived as a man, so he presented as one. He wasn’t going to go back to his childhood, back when everyone called him the wrong pronouns and the wrong name and everything wrong wrong wrong.
Grace’s fingers danced across the soft fabric of one of Iluykina’s skirts. He’d worn it years ago at this point, never put it on since then. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. The texture was nice, so was the color. Rocky wouldn’t call him horrid names for pulling it on.
But would Grace be able to handle wearing it?
“Grace Grace Grace!” Speaking of Rocky, the other’s voice filled his ears, echoing off the walls of Grace’s home as he bounded down the halls. Rocky wasn’t really one to ask before entering no matter how many times Grace tried to explain the concept to him.
Grace flinched, ripping his hand away from the skirt before Rocky could see him reaching for it. “Rocky, hey, what are you doing here?” Rocky turned his carapace down. “Adrian would like to see Grace, like to speak about testosterone synthesis.” The Eridian tapped his claw against the ground, obviously eager for Grace to get going.
Grace swallowed. Right. That was today. There had been some testosterone on the ship, enough to have lasted him to what would have been his death. He’d run out a year or so into their trip to Erid. The fact that Grace stretched it that far was shocking in itself. Well, technically there was one vial left, but he kept that in order to hopefully synthesize it later.
It was later now.
“Okay, wouldn’t want to keep Adrian waiting.” Grace tore himself away from the decision. He was already in a fine set of clothes; he didn’t need to change.
If the image of the skirt was nagging him the entire time he was meant to be listening to Rocky and Adrian then that was nobody’s business but his own.
Well, aside from the fact that Rocky decided to call him out on it as he defended his mate. “Grace doesn’t pay attention.” If Rocky had a face, Grace could imagine the pinched expression that would be painted across it.
An embarrassed blush rushed over Grace’s cheeks. “Sorry, really.” He glanced back at Adrian. “You have my full attention, cross my heart.” “Grace not need to cross heart.” Adrian’s melodic voice drifted through his ears. They picked up the canister that held the new synthesized vials of testosterone. Eridian-grade testosterone. Cool stuff.
Grace couldn’t feel it through the xenonite barrier of his suit – a better model than the one he’d first taken on Rocky’s ship – but he still grinned as though he were holding it right against his skin. “Thank you for everything, Adrian. You don’t know how much this means to me.” “Grace need human hormone to be happy, Adrian is glad to make. It is nice experiment.” There was a trill at the end of their statement to illustrate their utter glee. Grace had to admit, if he had the chance to synthesize and experiment with an alien hormone he’d be pretty stoked too.
There was a ball in his stomach as he looked at the xenonite vials though. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, he was immensely grateful that there had been such a push to get him testosterone. He assumed Rocky’s pushiness had something to do with that though.
The vials just felt odd handling after the incident with the skirt.
Grace swallowed.
It wasn’t an incident. That made it into something bigger than what it actually was. All he did was look at a skirt for a couple of seconds. That didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything if he didn’t want it to.
But did Grace want it too?
“Grace heartrate elevated, why, question?” Rocky inched closer, inspecting Grace.
Grace snapped back to himself. “What? Nothing, Rock. Just… excited is all.” Rocky slumped, almost like a fullbodied frown. “Grace lying.”
Adrian chirped in agreement.
Grace couldn’t believe he was being ganged up on. Again. Actually, this was a very typical occurrence. “I, you know, I’m just nervous.” He shrugged. That wasn’t really a lie. Grace was nervous, he was just nervous about the mess in his head and not so much the testosterone. He believed wholeheartedly in Adrian’s capabilities and those of the other Eridians.
The way Rocky scuttled on the floor told Grace the other didn’t actually believe him, but he didn’t press anymore. Rocky had gotten far better at knowing when Grace wanted to drop something over the years. Adrian not so much.
They followed close to Grace’s side as the other moved to a separate chamber in the biology lab where he’d be under his own atmospheric pressure and temperature. This was where he took a deep breath and prepared to finally take his first dose of testosterone in years.
It felt nice, immensely slow. Grace wasn’t daft, he knew he couldn’t actually feel the hormone flooding through his body – it didn’t work like that – but mentally he felt it. A smile grew across his face.
“Grace feeling okay, question?” Adrian inspected through the xenonite barrier, even though they didn’t actually need to do so. The action was likely for Grace’s comfort.
Grace nodded. “I feel great, Adrian.” They all stayed in the lab for a bit to ensure Grace wouldn’t have any negative reactions to the hormones. The waiting game gave Grace plenty of time to mull over his predicament from earlier. How fun.
***
The next time Grace was changing, the skirt danced across his eyes again. He stood in the middle of his room, gaze locked on the light fabric, with a deep yearning in his chest. At the same time there was a voice – or several voices – in the back of his mind screaming that he shouldn’t do it. Human society, at least the American society that Grace grew up in, said that men weren’t supposed to wear skirts. Grace thought that was stupid, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging sensation of wrongness which spread across his body. It was difficult to move past ideas so ingrained into his brain. Maybe it would have been better to have no memory of Earth if it meant not having to deal with those terrible ideas.
Grace took a step forward.
He wasn’t on Earth, and he never would be. His final message had been sent back years ago. Earth’s constrictive ideas on gender couldn’t touch him here.
A nervous tremble shook his hand as he reached forward. Maybe he should just try it on. He didn’t need to wear it out. If things felt awful then he could just take it off. Everything would be fine. Things were fine.
Grace finally touched the skirt. His hand didn’t burn like he expected it to. Instead, a subtle warmth flooded his chest, something akin to excitement, contentness. Slowly, he pulled the skirt from the drawer where he’d hidden it away for so long. The fabric cascaded down, swirling in a mesmerizing way. Grace sucked in a long breath. Alright, this was fine. Grace slipped on the skirt. The fabric was light against his skin, soft as can be from age.
For a moment, he expected fear to beat in his heart, to overwhelm him until he wanted to rip the clothing off his body. Grace imagined that he’d be smacked with a bolt of dysphoria that would send him spiraling for days.
But that didn’t happen. Instead, a small grin stretched across his lips. He looked down, enjoying the sight of the freeflowing fabric. Euphoria of all things spread across his skin, his synapses firing with glee. This was far better than the last time he’d worn the skirt, back when he spent his days consumed with grief and confusion as to what he was going to do next.
Grace stepped back, the skirt swishing as he did so, and looked in the mirror. The sight that greeted him was a pleasant one. Grace felt good, felt alive.
“Grace, Grace, Grace.” There was Rocky again, coming through the front door like always.
Grace seized up for a moment. What was the other going to think? What was he going to say? What if Grace had actually greatly misinterpreted everything Rocky told him about Eridian culture, and he was actually doing something wrong?
Rocky paraded over to Grace’s bedroom, standing in the doorway with what would have been a pleased expression on his face. “Grace wear different clothes, very nice, statement.”
Grace let out his breath, calm rushing over him. “Thanks, Rock.” He turned back to look in the mirror. “I think it looks nice too.”
“Yes, very nice. Good, good, good. Now, Grace has to hurry or you will be late for class.”
“Right, yes, yes.” Grace left his house with a pep in his step, a smile on his face, and the feeling that he was taking back something that had been ripped away from him for so long. Life on Erid was beautiful.