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Ryland most probably wouldn't judge, Simon knew that now. Every time some weird quirk of Simon's had come up so far Ryland had responded with fascination and a million questions, sometimes awkwardness but somehow in a way that has always seemed directed at himself rather than Simon. This made sense, the man was a scientist and their cultures were so similar yet so different in ways that probably made Simon an endless puzzle, but his lack of disapproval and continual insistence that Simon deserved to not just be alive but comfortable had convinced Simon that this too would be okay, even though people before would have been disgusted. Ryland would probably encourage it, the way he had every other desire for softness and comfort.
It was Simon who couldn't bring himself to accept it. He didn't even understand what it was he was yearning for really, so there was no way he could explain it to Ryland anyway. He just, wanted to be able to let go of his constant vigilance and feel safe and small and sheltered, he wanted Ryland to take care of him. He'd had to look after himself for so long.
He curled up tighter under the blankets, tentatively nuzzling into the pillows. Ryland had let him put as many pillows as he wanted on their bed. They were so soft and the pretty quilt was so warm. He wasn't ready to ask for what he wanted yet but he was allowed to take a nap. Ryland was out teaching but he wouldn't judge Simon. Even if he was still asleep when Ryland got back. Simon wouldn't be bothering anyone, so he could let himself have this.
Hugging a spare pillow to his chest, he gently rocked back and forth, a little happy sigh escaping from him. The blankies and pillows were so comfy. He was safe buried in the pile of them. There was only one thing that could make it better. Slowly, hesitantly, he stroked his own cheek with his left hand. The limited feedback from the prosthetic letting him almost pretend it was Ryland instead. He let out another happy sound at that idea, and drifted off to sleep.
The house was oddly quiet when Grace got home, he'd expected to find Simon reading on the couch like he had most afternoons that week, but the living room and attached kitchen were both empty.
"Simon? You around?"
Silence. Well, either that meant Simon was asleep or not in the house. Which was fine, he could totally go for a walk or whatever. Grace was just slightly thrown by the sudden change in routine that was all. He'd just check the bedroom to see if he needed to keep quiet, and, oh. Simon was absolutely sleeping. Curled around a pillow with blankets completely askew, absolutely dwarfed by the mountain of pillows that had found their way to the bed.
Grace made his way into the bedroom as quietly as he could. Rocky had worn off on him completely by now and he felt weird about just leaving Simon alone and unprotected in his sleep. He'd just sit next to him and do some grading, that way he'd be nearby in case Simon had a nightmare. But first, he couldn't resist the urge to tuck the blankets back around Simon. He'd just smoothed the edges down and was gently brushing Simon's hair back behind his ears when the other man stirred and looked blearily up at him. Oops.
"Hey, sorry I didn't mean to wake you, I was just fixing your blankets back up."
Grace tried to smile reassuringly and ran a hand over Simon's hair one more time. They'd woken eachother from nightmares enough times that he knew Simon would be less startled by the gentle touch continuing than by Grace pulling away. Which was why he was caught completely off guard as tears started silently welling up in Simon's eyes.
"Oh shoot, um, are you okay? I'm sorry did I do something wrong?"
Simon seemed to struggle for a few seconds, jaw shifting like he was going to open his mouth before stopping, eventually shaking his head. Not exactly the clearest answer considering the fact that Grace had asked two different questions but also not the hardest response Grace had ever had to puzzle out from gestures either. From the way Simon leaned up to keep in contact when he briefly pulled his hand back, the hair patting appeared to be welcome. So something else was up.
"Okay, want me to stay?"
Another pause, then a sharp nod. Something about the the way Simon was responding was starting to form a familiar shape in the back of his mind. He looked for all the world exactly like some of Grace's students, struggling to speak after panic attacks. And beyond that he just seemed so, vulnerable and small right now. Grace might not have had personal experience with this before but he'd accumulated a lot of random knowledge over the years of being a nerd on the internet. He could make an educated guess at what Simon needed right now.
"Shhh, you're okay sweetheart, I've got you." He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of Simon's head. That drew a sob from Simon and earned Grace a hand clutching at the hem of his shirt. Looks like he was on the right track then.
"-s this real?" Grace's heart just about broke at the disbelief coloring the broken whisper.
"This is real, little star, I'm here, you're safe now. Come on, let's get comfy and then we can rest, okay?" He shifted them both over slightly, enough that he could lean against the headboard with his legs properly on the mattress, with Simon abandoning the pillow under his head in favour of Grace's lap. Still clutching the pillow he'd been hugging though. Grace immediately resolved to figure out a way to make a proper plushie that Simon could hug next time he needed to be small like this, after everything he'd been through he deserved to have all the comfort in the world and Grace was determined to do his best at providing that.
"Okay, you comfy little star?" He ran his fingers through Simon's hair, satisfied with the contented hum he got in response, and fished a tablet out from the drawer of the bedside table, quickly flicking through the cache of books on it.
"Have you heard the story of The Little Prince? You just rest, I'll read it to you."