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Grace had been awake for way too long. He knew this. He was still sitting on the couch with his laptop propped on his crossed legs typing, hours after Simon had bid him goodnight and made him promise to come to bed soon.
That had been about three hours ago. It was now midnight. It wasn’t like Grace had been purposefully staying up too late, he’d lost track of time again and hadn’t thought to look at the time until just a few minutes ago. However, even after seeing what time it was, he’d decided to ignore it. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Simon and Rocky would probably pester him about it in the morning but he really just wasn’t tired.
He was reading an update from Eridian scientists on possible new treatments for radiation poisoning. After he’d taught them about radiation poisoning Eridian scientists had gotten straight to work on researching it more. It was fascinating. How they’d managed to come up with solutions to radiation sickness, how much they’d already discovered and identified about it… geniuses. He’d never get over how smart the Eridians were. He often felt like his class was more for his own entertainment than actually teaching Eridian children. His kids were so quick to learn and shot out answers so easily.
He smiled and sighed. Reaching up he rubbed at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. He was NOT rubbing his eyes because he was tired, that's NOT the reason. He was wide awake. Completely. Totally.
A hand combed through his hair snapping him out of his reverie and making him jump and yelp only to be shushed softly.
Simon leaned down near Grace’s ear to murmur. “You said you’d come to bed.”
Grace readjusted his glasses onto the bridge of his nose again nervously. He could feel his cheeks heat up just from the contact and tired low voice speaking to him. After a couple years living with Simon he would’ve thought the touching would become more normal, but apparently it flustered him just the same as it did the first time Simon initiated contact with Grace.
The hand continued to card through his golden hair which did not help Grace in his effort to try and process what Simon had just said. His mind was currently bluescreening.
“Um… I- I will- I just-“
“Ryland.” The name sounded more like a command than anything and it made Grace’s mouth clack shut immediately sending a shiver through his body.
“Uh- yes?”
“Come to bed.”
There was no room for argument. Still, he half heartedly tries. “I just- I need to finish reading this paper. The Eridian scientists just made a new breakthrough with the radiation sickness and are trying to implement new methods for preventing it in their ships so they can continue exploring space and it-“
He was cut off with a nip to his neck that made his breath hitch and little stars dance around in his vision.
“Bed. Now. I’m not taking no for an answer Ryland.” The voice drops lower, murmured softly. “You don’t want to make me mad, do you?”
A hand untangles itself from Grace’s hair to snake over his shoulder and down his chest. Electric little sparks follow the movement under Grace’s skin.
He’s probably as red as a tomato right now. He swallows thickly. “Um… n-no-“
“Then come on.” The hand leaves abruptly and Grace quickly shuts his computer, putting it on the coffee table. His mind has gone blank save for the desperate need to feel the touch again. Warm, comforting, safe. He gets up shakily, legs having a hard time keeping him upright and he stumbles behind Simon to the bedroom.
Grace follows Simon under the covers and removes his glasses to set on the nightstand. He adjusts to settle but his brain won’t stop buzzing angrily. “I’m not really… tired though. I-“
Simon is pressed against his body now, purring in his ear again. “Do you need help, Angel?”
Grace’s breath stutters at the nickname. It always makes him feel a certain way. A mix of endearment and heartache due to the origins of it. Simon had believed Grace to be an angel when he’d first woken up. Simon continued to believe that Grace was an angel for about a week after that even after Grace had reminded him so many times that he was just a man and Simon wasn’t dead.
It was now Simon’s favorite nickname for Grace. Usually, the man just called him Grace. Ryland was usually reserved for when he was trying to convince Grace of something, in an argument or… when Grace was being difficult. Like tonight. He suspected Simon liked using “Grace” because of the ties to his past and his struggles with making sense of how he was still alive in the first place. But on rare occasions, Simon called him his angel. And honestly, Grace still had a hard time believing he was anything but. He was a coward; he’d chosen not to go on a suicide mission to save his planet. One person’s life, his life, to save billions of others. What kind of angel did that make him? But Simon insisted, desperate to remind Grace that he was selfless, kind, and without a doubt the closest thing to an angel Simon had ever met. Knowing where he had come from, Grace couldn’t help his heartache knowing that was probably true.
He was lost in thought when his attention was quickly averted to the sensation of his neck being kissed.
“Get out of that pretty head of yours, Grace.”
The kisses were gentle and warm and crap, it made his head spin. Simon was really good at making Grace’s head do that. Talking, looking at him, touching him. Simon could do anything and Grace’s thoughts would stop in their tracks. And Simon 100% knew this. And it was kind of terrible for Grace. Well, it would be if he didn’t like it so freaking much but goodness did Simon use it to his advantage.
Any argument, any time Grace was rambling too much, was too anxious, Simon could do any one of the aforementioned things and Grace would shut up, concede. It was no secret that either of them would do anything for the other. Without question. But Grace was especially bad at arguing with Simon if the man started touching him. Like right now.
Grace’s hand instinctively slid into Simon’s long wavy hair that cascaded over the man’s shoulders and back. Scratching his fingernails along the other man’s scalp, eliciting a shiver and a retaliatory nip at Grace’s neck. Grace moaned. Crap. Simon liked marking him with bruises and bites. Grace knew he liked it when he looked over and could see a tapestry of purples and reds adorning Grace’s body. And heck, Grace wasn’t complaining. It was lucky for both of them that Eridians used echolocation to “see” and therefore wouldn’t be able to tell the difference because otherwise Grace would never hear the end of it from Rocky. Hypocrite.
A dark amused chuckle rumbled from his torturer.
“Th-this isn’t helping me sleep just so you know Si-“
“Who said anything about that?”
Come to think of it, Simon hadn’t actually mentioned sleeping. Just for Grace to “come to bed” so… he wasn’t wrong…
A tongue started tracing Grace’s neck up to his stubbled chin, biting every once in a while, and then Simon’s dark eyes were swimming before his and they were kissing now and oh god Simon’s hand was sliding down his body and hiking up his shirt and touching his chest and-
“Are you going to be good for me Angel?”
Oh there goes his brain again. Bluescreening. Crap.
All Grace can muster is a weak nod. This doesn’t seem to be satisfactory.
“Words, Ryland.”
“Ye-yes.”
Simon hummed and shifted to straddle Grace’s hips. Pressing his groin into Grace’s.
Grace huffed dreamily like the air had been punched out of his lungs by a freaking angel.
Grace had never cared much about sex. The idea of it seemed… pointless? He knew logically that it was good. That it was a healthy activity. It helped stimulate the brain and keep the mind healthy but he couldn’t help feeling like it was just a waste of time. Sure it felt good. It sent dopamine to the brain of course it felt good. It was fine. But he also didn’t need it. He still wondered if this was one of the reasons why his girlfriend had left him. It never usually bothered him. It wasn’t like he needed to worry about that sort of stuff when he was in space.
When he had met Simon it was a similar situation to all his past experiences with having feelings for people. For the first few weeks he had seen Simon as a roommate of sorts. They lived together, ate together, talked (sometimes), and when Grace was able to, they touched (Simon never initiated it in the beginning). Grace had been so incredibly touch starved for so long and he’d missed touching someone. He’d missed it a lot.
But as the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month he could feel something else starting to come up for him. He didn’t just want to touch Simon because he was desperate for human contact. He wanted to touch Simon because he wanted Simon’s attention. Simon’s attention. Not just general attention. But Simon’s.
He stole glances at the man every chance he got. He was far more obsessed with making sure the man was comfortable and happy (not like he hadn’t been before but now it was hard to think of much else).
And Simon started reciprocating. And then it snowballed.
Even after it had snowballed into something more than… whatever they’d been before, it was still complicated. Because Simon had started tentatively (very, very nervously Grace might add,) touching him more intimately, more affectionately. And Grace had noticed of course. And he felt bad. Because… well he didn’t really feel the same way.
So after an embarrassing amount of time stressing over it he finally had to talk with Simon. And it turns out Simon was perfectly fine with that. Grace knew that Simon still craved it though. That unlike Grace, Simon’s brain was hardwired the way most peoples were and required that other level of intimacy to be healthy and happy. Simon didn’t seem to mind, but Grace did.
He’d discovered after… a lot of awkward "experiments" as he put it (he hadn’t done… sex in years, ok?), that, yes, maybe he didn’t really care about it, but he did like being connected to Simon. He liked being touched by Simon, he liked being around Simon. And any affectionate activity they did together just meant more Simon. And Grace liked that part. So, he was happy to indulge the man.
Grace closed his eyes and smiled sliding his hands up and around Simon’s back to hug him closer and bury his face in Simon’s inky locks.
Simon continued slowly rubbing against his pelvis and kissing at Grace’s neck eliciting little huffs and moans from the blonde. Simon’s hand was now shifting from touching his chest to shucking off Grace’s sweatpants. He hooked his fingers into Grace’s underwear and slid them off too.
Grace glanced down with half lidded eyes to Simon who was now placing kisses and occasionally licking and biting his way down Grace’s body. Grace’s breath was coming out stuttered. He obediently parted his legs for the other man who had reached his pelvis and was now propping Grace’s legs up on his shoulders. For only having one arm Simon was... really dexterous. Simon leaned down and placed a kiss just above his curls before, without fanfare, he parted Grace's folds and Simon’s mouth was licking a hungry stripe up the center of his cunt. Grace moaned. It was only prolonged when Simon took Grace’s T-dick into his mouth and sucked.
Crap crap crap. Ugh. The fact that Grace’s brain still couldn’t conjure up proper swears even while this was happening was completely ridiculous.
“Shit- I- S-Si-“ Ok well there we go that was something.
Simon lifted his head at the rare curse to give him a self-satisfied smirk. God he was so pretty. Frick. Er- fuck-
Simon shuffled back up to kiss Grace viciously, making Grace moan into it before he felt callused strong hands glide between his folds and spread his discharge around, a thick finger slipping into his cunt. Grace’s eyes rolled back into his skull. Warm. It was still comfort. It was still safety. Any touch from Simon was heaven. It didn’t matter where. Simon crooned at Grace’s little reactions and aborted moans as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out. Another finger joined the first and now Simon was picking up his pace. There was a mission on the man’s mind.
Simon leaned down to whisper in Grace’s ear, dark rich molasses voice covering Grace in a blanket. He shivered.
“You’re gonna come for me, Angel.” Grace could feel his eyes dilate at that command. “And then you’re gonna fall asleep with me until the late morning, and you are not gonna pull this shit anymore, got it?”
A thumb slides up to tease at his dick. Grace whines and nods, scrabbling to get a good hold of Simon as he feels himself reaching the crest.
His brain has stopped working. There’s not a single thought swimming through anymore besides Simon, Simon, Simon, my Simon. His breaths are shallower.
“C’mon my sweet boy, let go for me.” Grace is shaking hard. So, so close.
“That’s it. Almost there, my star. Come for me.” A third finger slides in. That’s it. That’s all it takes for Grace to yelp and curl into Simon, burying his face in his neck and tugging at the man’s shirt as he comes, vision blurring. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into him as he koalas himself around the man.
The next minute or two are hard for Grace to really grasp. His mind is slurry and he feels like he’s wading through mud as he blearily watches Simon slowly untangle himself from Grace and gets up. Grace whines halfheartedly at the loss of warmth but Simon shushes him softly, kissing him on the forehead before he disappears down the hall, coming back moments later with a warm washcloth.
He cleans Grace up, reverent, near-worshipful movements and tosses the towel onto the floor near the laundry hamper to be taken care of in the morning. Grace huffs at that with a hint of annoyance. Simon chuckles softly and kisses him.
“I’ll take care of it in the morning, but you and I both know we need sleep.”
Mind still too sluggish to protest, Grace allows himself to be tugged under the blankets and wrapped up in strong arms from behind. He sighs contently. Yeah, he is definitely tired now. He tucks his head into the pillow and curls around the warm embrace.
He falls asleep to the soft even breathing of the man against his back.