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“Will you just come out? Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not interested in being your little lab rat.”
Grace scoffs, scrubbing at his face in frustration before holding out his arms and doing a little twirl. “See? I don’t have anything! I mean, I have a pencil in my pocket, but other than that I don’t have anything!”
He can see a large, dark shape darting around under the surface of the water, and his stupid brain immediately starts playing the Jaws theme. He barely resists the urge to hum it.
A moment later Simon’s head pops up out of the water, his wet, black hair clinging to his face. He eyes Grace warily, bobbing up and down in the gentle waves like a buoy.
A very weird, handsome mermaid buoy.
Gosh, if only Eva could see him now; not only alive, but living on an alien planet lightyears away from Earth, with a time travelling, mutated human for a neighbor. He can hardly believe it himself.
Distracted. You’re getting distracted again, his brain reminds him, and Grace shakes his head to clear his thoughts.
“Look, Simon, I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I just—I need to look you over, see what’s going on with your—” he gestures to him wildly. “—everything. Your everything.”
The other man eyes him for moment before swimming a few feet closer, and Grace has to resist the urge to cheer. Yes, he’s making progress! This is good.
“What, you didn’t get enough poking and prodding in while I was knocked out?” Simon asks, and Grace feels his cheeks burning.
“Th—that was for medical reasons. I needed to get your clothes off so that Armando could patch you up,” he says quickly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
Simon’s lips stretch into a mean, toothy grin. “And how did that go for you?”
Unbidden, the memory flashes through Grace’s mind; Simon springing up off of the gurney and wrapping one of his clawed hands around his throat, hissing and thrashing and cursing up a storm before Armando managed to sedate him again.
“Oh. It went okay,” he laughs, shifting his weight between his feet nervously. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. I would have probably reacted the same way, if I had been through… All of that.”
Part of him wants to tell Simon that he has nightmares about the Quiet Rapture now, too, but he’s not sure how well that information will be received, so he just bites his tongue.
Simon tilts his head, brows furrowed, and he studies Grace for a moment before swimming a little bit closer. He opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by a loud, musical chiming noise.
Well, this is already going pretty badly; surely Rocky can’t make it any worse?
“Grace and Simon friends! What doing, question?” The Eridian asks excitedly, skittering across the beach towards them with far too much enthusiasm. A wave hits him and knocks him over, but Rocky just makes a happy sound and then springs back up.
Simon looks alarmed for a moment at the sudden noise, but to Grace’s surprise, he doesn’t retreat back into the deeper water. In fact, he swims even closer to shore.
It does make some sense, he supposes. Simon has no reason to fear Eridians, but he has plenty of reasons to fear humans.
He’ll have to do his best to change that.
Grace watches in awe as Simon swims over to a large, flat rock, gripping the edge of it with his one hand and effortlessly hoisting himself up out of the ocean. Droplets of water cascade down his muscles, and Grace follows their path, his eyes roving over Simon’s body, across miles of olive skin and shimmering, blood-red scales.
Gosh, he’s beautiful.
Simon pulls himself up into a sitting position, though most of his tail is still submerged in the water. It takes all of Grace’s self-control to stay put; he wants to get a closer look at the other man, at the patches of scales that cover his cheeks and arms, at the fin running down the length of his spine, at his tail—
No. That can wait for later. He needs to be normal about this.
“Arm grow back yet, question?” Rocky chitters, clambering up onto the rock with Simon and looking at him curiously.
Simon huffs out a laugh, shifting his left shoulder around and swishing his tail through the water. “Humans don’t work like that, buddy.”
Rocky makes a soft, curious sound, his entire body tilting as he looks at Simon. “Simon not human. Eridian not human; Rocky friend hurt, grow arm back.”
Simon not human.
Grace winces and without thinking he takes a few steps closer, wanting to intervene before yet another fight breaks out, but he freezes when Simon’s head snaps over to him.
Simon goes stiff, eyeing him warily for a few seconds before relaxing again and looking back to Rocky. “It’s been a few months; I don’t think my arm is coming back.”
The Eridian makes a soft chirring noise, clicking his little claws together. “Rocky sorry. Simon want Rocky build new arm, question?”
“Nah. Thanks for the offer, though,” Simon replies, giving Rocky a lopsided smile before suddenly looking over at Grace. “Hey, why can’t you be this helpful?”
He squawks in protest. “Wh—what!? I’m very helpful! I do all sorts of things for you!”
Simon looks at him blankly. “You offered to make me a blanket, because you forgot I live in the water.”
Grace grimaces and adjusts his glasses again. “Okay, in my defense, I was very sleep-deprived that day—"
“Your friend offered to make me an entire new body part. That I could actually use.”
“Well, now look—”
“He takes better care of me than you do, honestly.”
There’s a loud chiming noise and both of them look over to Rocky, who taps his leg on the ground. Uh oh. Why is he mad?
“Grace take good care of Simon, make sure healthy,” Rocky says, snapping his little claws at him in agitation. “Simon hurt bad bad bad, Grace spend all day in medical room with Simon; make sure Simon not die!”
A loud, nervous laugh bubbles out of Grace’s throat and he weakly kicks sand towards Rocky. “Yeah, um, you don’t need to tell him all of that.”
The Eridian observes him for a moment before tottering over to Simon, until he’s right in front of him. “Simon make Grace leaky. Grace leak so much from body, Rocky worry Grace die. Too much wet.”
Simon’s brows shoot up and he slowly turns to look at Grace, who suddenly feels like he’s about to have a heart attack.
Grace quickly holds up his hands, looking at Simon in alarm and saying, “Okay, right! There’s a uh, a bit of a language barrier here—he’s talking about crying. I was—I was crying. From my eyes.”
Rocky chitters at him, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Little brat is saying weird stuff on purpose.
Simon looks absolutely baffled. “Why?”
“Huh? Why what?” Grace asks, tilting his head slightly.
“Cry over me. I’m not worth it,” Simon says, his tone casual and nonchalant.
Grace suddenly feels like he’s going to throw up.
Rocky looks between them, before making a quiet little humming noise and turning to climb down off of the rock. “Rocky go home to mate Adrian. Goodbye Grace Simon friends.”
Simon shifts around, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Did I say something wrong?”
Grace slides his hand up under his glasses, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Um. No, it’s fine; Rocky just had to go home.”
It’s not fine. Not even remotely. But he knows that if he tries to talk about feelings with Simon, the man will just disappear into the water for a month. Just like the last five times he tried. He can’t risk scaring him away again.
“Doesn’t sound fine,” Simon mumbles, clearly skeptical. “What did you come out here for, again?”
That’s a good question, actually. Rocky’s surprise visit completely sidetracked him. He frowns, thinking to himself for a moment before finally remembering the point of his visit. “Oh! Right, um—the medical staff asked me to document all of the differences between our bodies.”
Simon raises a brow, looking unamused. “The mutations, you mean.”
“Yeah. They want to make sure that you receive adequate medical treatment; there’s a lot of information on the Hail Mary about taking care of humans, but you might need something different,” Grace explains, wringing his hands together nervously.
For a long while Simon just stares at him. Grace gives him a bright, reassuring smile, but the other man just scoffs and turns away before mumbling, “What do you need to do, exactly?”
At least he didn’t dive back into the water, Grace thinks morosely.
“Nothing invasive, I promise! They do want blood samples, but that can wait until later. I basically just need to look at you and, like, make a list of the, uh…” he gestures awkwardly to Simon’s body.
“Weird fucking fish parts?” he asks with a scowl. Grace isn’t sure what to say, so he just clears his throat awkwardly and nods.
Simon leans back on his arm, staring off into the distance with furrowed brows and swirling his tail around in the water. Grace does his best not to stare at it.
“Fine,” he says after a long pause. “But don’t get handsy.”
Grace stands up straighter, suddenly serious. “Of course, if I need to touch you for some reason, I’ll ask—and you can say no. At any point.”
With a curt nod Simon pulls himself up further onto the rock. “C’mon, then, let’s get this over with.”
Grace nearly faceplants onto the rock in his haste to climb on top of it, and Simon snickers, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. He studies Simon for a moment before hesitantly sitting down next to him, making sure to keep a decent amount of space between them.
“Okay, uh, how about we start with your arm?” Grace suggests, gesturing to the limb in question.
Simon hesitantly holds up his right arm, and Grace scoots a little closer, peering at it curiously. It looks completely ordinary, at least down to the elbow; his lower arm is shaped normally, but instead of human skin, it’s covered in a layer of red, fish-like scales.
His fingernails have been replaced by hooked, black claws, though as far as Grace can tell, they look to be made of keratin, just like normal nails. “Does your arm feel any different? You pulled yourself out of the water pretty easily.”
“Yeah, a little. I feel stronger in general,” Simon says, flexing his fingers, and Grace watches in rapt fascination as the muscles and tendons under his skin move.
He looks up to Simon’s face, next, his eyes roving over the red scales that cover his cheekbones. His left cheek is heavily scarred, from where Armando had to remove the teeth, but it seems to be healing very well.
Simon watches him, blinking slowly. A thin, translucent membrane slides up from the corner of his eyes by his tear ducts—a nictitating membrane, if Grace recalls correctly—before retracting again.
His right eye is normal; a beautiful, chocolate brown color, but even with all the changes, his left eye is still gorgeous, too. The sclera is a deep, blood red coloration, and his iris is black as ink, with a little ring of gold surrounding his pupil.
“How does your left eye feel? Any changes to your vision?” Grace asks, adjusting his glasses again and brushing the hair out of his eyes.
Simon hesitates for a moment before saying, “I, um, I can see better in the dark.”
“Dang, really? I’ll have to see if I can figure out some kind of test so we can see how much better your vision is,” Grace says before awkwardly clearing his throat. “Could you, um, open your mouth?”
The other man quirks a brow, but he does as asked. His tongue seems normal, and so do most of his teeth—except for the ones on the left side of his face, of course; Armando did his best to file them down, but they’re still a little sharper than the average human’s.
Grace leans back and looks Simon up and down, pursing his lips. “Okay, uh, let’s see… Could I get a look at that fin on your back?”
Simon studies him for a good, long while, to the point that Grace begins wondering if he’s going to say no. But then he slowly turns around and lowers himself down to the ground, until he’s laying prone on his stomach. He looks up at him expectantly, quirking a brow, but all Grace can do is stare at him.
The sheer amount of trust Simon is displaying makes him want to cry. His arm is folded up under his head and he’s looking up at him, yes, but just the fact that he’s willing to lay down on his stomach and turn his back to him is just, it’s just—
“Are you gonna do something, or just gawk at me all day?”
Grace blinks down at Simon, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. Shoot, was he staring again?
“Right, uh! Could you, um—” Grace holds his hand flat and then tilts it up, trying to demonstrate what he wants. “Like, your fin, can you maybe—”
The muscles in Simon’s back flex and ripple, and seconds later his dorsal fin pops up. Grace gasps in surprise, not expecting it to be that large. The light of the sun shines through the thin membrane, highlighting every iridescent red scale.
The fin begins just between Simon’s shoulder blades and runs down the length of his spine, ending just above his pelvis. Grace tilts his head, looking at it curiously. He’s not very familiar with wildlife, but his uncle took him fishing a few times as a kid, so he knows a thing or two about fish.
The shape of Simon’s dorsal fin is reminiscent of a perch, or maybe some kind of bass; there’s an array of small, thin bones supporting the membrane of the fin, and the top is almost spiky looking.
But what really takes his breath away is the coloration; a vibrant crimson, with thin bands of an even brighter red running down the length of it. The bands have an almost iridescent sheen to them, like the feathers of some sort of exotic bird, and when he bends the fin slightly, the neon red shifts into a deeper maroon coloration.
“Thought you said there would be no touching?”
Grace yelps, yanking his hand away like he’s been burnt. He looks down at Simon in horror. “Oh my gosh, I’m so, so sorry! I—I don’t know what came over me, I just—”
“It’s fine,” Simon rumbles, dragging his long tail up and out of the water to curl it loosely around Grace. “Just get on with it.”
He wants to apologize again, but the feel of Simon’s muscular tail brushing up against his legs makes the words die in his throat. Grace swallows thickly and looks down at the tail; immediately astounded by the sheer size of it.
It’s about ten feet in length, and covered in the same, shimmering crimson scales that are found on the rest of Simon’s body. It looks like the tail of a fish, almost, but it’s much more flexible; it behaves more like the tail of a snake, or maybe a lizard.
“Can I touch it?” Grace asks quietly, the sound of his voice almost overshadowed by the waves crashing against the shoreline.
“Okay.”
He takes a deep, shaky breath, before hesitantly lowering his hand and placing it on Simon’s tail. Grace lets out a quiet gasp, surprised by how warm he is. He carefully slides his fingers across the smooth, delicate scales.
Simon is… Surprisingly dry. He doesn’t seem to be covered in any sort of mucus, like fish are; he feels more like a snake. Grace isn’t the biggest fan of reptiles, but for some reason Simon doesn’t give him the heebie-jeebies like the corn snake his students forced him to hold during that field trip they took to a wildlife center.
Grace twists around, gaze moving down the length of the tail, down to the thin, tapered end which terminates in a beautiful, crescent-shaped fin that has the same banded coloration as the one that runs along Simon’s spine.
The top part of the fin (gosh, he really needs to brush up on his animal knowledge) has a long, thin, whip-like extension coming from the edge of it. Immediately, his brain begins running through different theories; it could be some sort of display structure, or maybe a type of lure to attract prey, or perhaps—no, focus. Theorize later.
“Is it okay if I touch the fin on the end of your—oof!” Grace lets out a surprised grunt as the fin in question flips up to smack him in the face. He sputters, grabbing it and moving it away from his head. When he looks down at Simon, he’s smirking up at him mischievously.
“Haha, very funny,” Grace mumbles, rolling his eyes and then moving his focus back to the fin. He opens and closes it like it’s a paper fan, holding it up to the sunlight so that the light shines through the membrane, scanning over all of the little blood vessels under the skin.
“Are you having fun?” Simon asks, clearly amused. Grace feels his cheeks go hot.
He presses his lips together, slowly closing the tail fin and looking back down at the other man. “Um, yep, sorry—I didn’t mean to be so… Invasive.”
Simon just shrugs, grinning at him with too-sharp teeth. “I don’t mind. I’ve had worse.”
Grace’s brows furrow. “Simon, if I’m hurting you—”
He immediately gets smacked in the face again, but the tail fin slides out of his hand before he has a chance to shove it away. Simon rolls over onto his back, shoving his arm up under his head. The motion makes his muscles bulge, and Grace tries (and fails) not to stare.
Jeez, what is wrong with him today?
“Anything else you wanna look at, or can I go back into the water?” Simon asks, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that Grace is ogling him.
Grace blinks, looking Simon over and saying, “Oh, um—do you need to go back in? I mean, can you breathe okay?”
“Of course I can breathe,” Simon rolls his eyes. “I just like the water.”
Oh, that makes sense. It’s not like he had a swimming pool on the station he grew up on; being able to swim is probably really nice for him.
“Yeah, okay, no problem, just… Let me look at your gills?” Grace says, chewing on his bottom lip and pushing his glasses back up.
Simon eyes him for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Just be careful. They’re… Sensitive.”
“I promise,” Grace says immediately, suddenly serious. Simon studies him for a few seconds before nodding again and shifting around on the rock to get more comfortable.
He scoots a little closer, until the tips of his knees bump up against Simon’s side. The other man watches him with hooded eyes, moving his hand to his chest. His inky black hair splays out across the rock, curling slightly at the ends where it’s beginning to dry.
Grace adjusts his glasses once more before looking down at Simon’s chest. He’s broad and muscular, and his skin is surprisingly normal; there aren’t any scales, that he can see. He looks just like a human, save for the gill slits across his ribcage.
There are six of them in total, three on either side of Simon’s chest. They start just under his pectoral muscles and extend down to the bottom of his ribcage. The skin around them seems normal, but from what Grace can tell, Simon isn’t currently using them to breathe.
“Could you open your gills for me? I—I’m not going to shove my fingers into them or anything, I just want to see the inside,” Grace asks, glancing up at Simon’s face.
Simon furrows his brows, his face scrunching up slightly. “No, sorry. They only seem to open when I’m under water.”
“Hey, that’s okay! Not a problem, man, I was just curious,” he says quickly, flashing him a reassuring smile before looking back down to the slits across his ribcage. Curiously, he reaches out, gently running his finger across the middle one.
Simon goes stiff, and he looks back to his face, but his eyes are closed again and he looks calm. Grace studies him for a moment, but when Simon doesn’t move or say anything, he takes that as permission to continue.
Normally, Grace really would prefer asking before doing any touching, but he’d rather not get smacked by Simon’s tail again.
He traces the pads of his fingers across the gills, tilting his head and looking at them curiously. Gosh, Simon’s skin is so soft; he wishes he could spend all day touching him. Grace’s gaze drags down Simon’s torso, over the muscular plane of his stomach, down to where his smooth, olive skin transitions into crimson scales.
Simon’s hipbones are still visible, so Grace is pretty sure that this is his pelvis, but it’s kind of hard to tell; it’s not like Simon has any legs that he can use as a point of reference.
His brows knit together in confusion, and he tilts his head, leaning closer to get a better look at Simon’s pelvis. His… Well, his sexual organs appear to be gone (he briefly wonders how the other man feels about that) but in their place is some kind of slit.
It’s sort of like the ones over his ribcage, but it’s vertical instead of horizontal, and it’s surrounded by small, rounded scales. Grace runs his hand down Simon’s stomach, ghosting his fingers over the slit.
Huh. It looks a lot looser than the ones on his chest, Grace thinks to himself, chewing on his lower lip. Maybe if I just…
He dips the tip of his fingers into the slit, but he immediately yanks his hand away when he hears Simon make a punched-out gasping sound.
Grace looks up in alarm to find that Simon is staring at him with a wide-eyed, wild look of shock on his face. His pupils are dilated, and the skin of his cheeks is flushed pink.
“The fuck are you doing, man?”
“I’m really sorry, Simon! I—I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was just—”
“It didn’t hurt.”
Grace pauses, frowning at him. “But you gasped, and your chest is heaving, and you—oh, uh.”
The sudden realization hits him like a freight train, and he feels all of the blood draining out of his face. Simon just raises a brow, looking at him expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” Grace squeaks out, his voice gone high and reedy. “I didn’t realize that your—that you—uh—”
“The fuck did you think was in there?” Simon asks, an almost hysterical laugh bubbling out of his throat. “Wh—did you think my fucking cock just fell off!?”
“…Will you be mad if I say yes?” Grace asks, giving him a nervous smile.
Simon looks at him like he’s a moron. “No, Grace, my cock didn’t fall off. It—they’re inside of that… Slit.”
Grace’s eyes go comically wide. “They?”
Simon thumps his head back against the rock, scrubbing his hand over his face and making an agonized noise. “Jesus fucking—yes, Grace, I have two cocks now.”
He feels like his brain is short-circuiting. All thoughts leave him, mind completely blank, and all he can do is stare at Simon blankly. The only thing he knows right now is that there’s a heat building in his stomach that he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.
Grace’s eyes dart between Simon’s face and the slit on his pelvis, his brain slowly booting back up. Part of him wants to keep going, to learn more, but the ethical implications of this—continuing wouldn’t be right, not when he’s this interested.
That’s not scientific interest, that’s just sick. Perverted. Absolutely, positively depraved, the definition of unethical. He wants the Eridians to create a board of ethics just so that they can yell at him, in fact.
“You’re freaking out.”
“No I’m not. I’m having totally normal feelings about this.”
“You look like you’re about to pass out.”
They stare at each other in silence. Simon glances down at the front of Grace’s pants, before his mismatched eyes snap back up to his face. Uh oh.
Simon tilts his head in consideration. “Totally normal feelings, huh?”
Grace looks absolutely mortified, waving his hands and saying, “Yes! I mean, okay, look, I know that I’m being super creepy and weird and probably freaking you out, I just—”
“How about this,” Simon cuts him off, reclining back on the rock and using his tail to nudge Grace closer. “You finish what you started, and I’ll let you take that blood sample you need.”
Grace blinks at him. “Re—really? Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or anything.”
Simon sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, looking up at the sky. He sounds almost embarrassed when he says, “Don’t make me beg, man.”
Oh. Simon likes this too.
The realization sends a bolt of heat right to his gut, and Grace lets out a shaky breath before looking down at the slit. He’s not sure if it’s just his imagination, but it seems a little… Wetter, now.
Grace trails his hand across Simon’s abdomen, feeling the muscles jump and twitch under his fingers. The other man sighs softly and closes his eyes, his one hand resting over his chest.
Hesitantly, Grace dips his fingers back into the slit. He works them inside slowly, carefully, making sure not to accidentally scratch Simon with his nails. He’s unbelievably tight, and the difference in temperature is downright shocking—it feels like he’s burning up inside.
Grace probes a little deeper, massaging along the smooth, inner walls of Simon’s channel. He makes a little noise, rocking up against his hand, and he can hear the slick, wet sound that his fingers make when they sink deeper inside.
Simon inhales deeply, slowly, before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh of content. His hips roll up in a slow, languid motion, and Grace does his best to keep it pleasurable for him; he’s not sure where to touch, exactly, but Simon seems to be enjoying it either way.
Grace nearly jumps when he feels something hard bump up against the tip of his finger. Simon inhales sharply and he pauses, frowning at him in concern. “You okay?”
“Mhm. Getting hard. Move your fingers back, and my cocks will slide out,” Simon murmurs, his hips twitching up.
Grace exhales shakily, licking his lips and slowly drawing his fingers back out of Simon’s canal. His hand is coated in slick, and he spreads his fingers apart to watch the strands of sticky liquid spread out between the digits.
Briefly, Grace considers licking his fingers clean, but he’s quickly distracted by the sight of two pink, fleshy nubs poking up out of Simon’s slit. His breath catches in his throat, and he watches in awe as they slide further out.
Without even thinking he moves his hand back, wrapping his fingers around one of the slick shafts. Simon grunts at the contact, his hips snapping up, and Grace gasps as a spurt of precome gushes across his hand.
Grace jerks him slowly, savoring the feel of Simon’s heated skin under his fingers, and he quickly reaches up with his other hand so that he can give attention to the other shaft.
He can feel his heart racing, his breath coming out in hot, heaving pants now, but he barely even registers his own arousal, too focused on exploring Simon’s body. His slit is spread wide now, everting as he reaches full hardness, and the sight makes Grace’s mouth water.
His cocks are like nothing Grace has ever seen before. They’re long and tapered, rounded at the tips, and curving slightly inwards towards each other. The shafts are completely smooth, save for a line of soft, fleshy ridges that run down the outer sides.
Before he even realizes what he’s doing Grace is leaning forward, taking the tip of one of the cocks into his mouth. Simon gasps loudly, his hand shooting down so that he can tangle his fingers into Grace’s messy hair.
Grace gasps as the cock slides further into his mouth, a burst of salty slick hitting his tongue. He continues pumping and squeezing the second shaft with his other hand, doing his best to bob his head up and down as Simon rocks up into his mouth.
“Oh fuck, baby, that’s it,” Simon gasps, his tail coiling around Grace. “Juuust like that.”
The praise has heat coiling in his gut, and Grace grinds his hips forward, chasing any friction he can get. His mind feels hazy with lust; all he can think about right now is wringing as much pleasure out of Simon as he can.
Grace sputters and chokes when the head of Simon’s cock hits the back of his throat. He tries to go back down, take it further into his mouth again, but Simon pulls him off.
“S—sorry, I can try again,” he pants, licking his lips. He tries to move his head back down, but Simon just tightens his grip in his hair and tugs him away from his cock.
“Don’t hurt yourself, stupid,” he huffs out, scowling at him. “You want this bad, don’t you?”
Grace bites his lower lip, nodding, and Simon chuckles. He slides his hand down to cup his face, running the tip of his claw over his cheekbone, and Grace leans into the touch.
Simon tilts his head and looks at him. “When’s the last time you got fucked, sweetheart?”
“It’s… Been a while,” Grace admits hesitantly, his face going hot in embarrassment. “But I’m sure I could take you. I mean, if you want.”
Simon hums, considering him for a moment before finally saying, “Can you swim?”
Grace frowns at him, making a questioning noise, and Simon huffs and rolls his eyes.
“I said, can you swim? This’ll be easier in the water,” he murmurs, using his tail to guide Grace to the edge of the rock.
He looks at Simon in surprise, craning his head back to look at the ocean. “Oh, um! Ye—yeah, just let me, uh, get undressed.”
Simon pulls back, nodding at him, and Grace quickly begins divesting himself of his clothes. He’s… Always been a little self-conscious, honestly, and it doesn’t help that Simon is so gosh darn gorgeous. He can’t help but compare their bodies.
But as Grace loses more and more clothing, the dark, hungry look in Simon’s eyes grows more intense. He’s eyeing him like a predator, like he wants to sink his teeth into him and devour him whole.
It’s… Kind of doing something for him, honestly.
He quickly folds up his clothes, setting them on the edge of the rock furthest from the water. After a moment of consideration he takes his glasses off and sets them on top of his sweater; he doesn’t need to lose those in the ocean.
Once he’s undressed, Simon quickly slips back into the water, disappearing under the waves for a moment before popping his head back out. Grace steps over to the edge of the rock, cautiously dipping one of his feet down into the water and hissing when the cold liquid hits his skin.
He chuckles, holding out his hand for Grace, and he takes it with a grateful smile. Simon eases him down into the water, making sure that he doesn’t slip. He braces his tail against the seafloor, coiling it up in the sand so that he can support both of them.
Grace genuinely moans when Simon pulls him against his chest. The man feels like a furnace, the heat emanating from his body immediately chasing away any lingering chill from the cool water.
“You’re gonna have to prepare yourself, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Simon says, running his claws down Grace’s back for emphasis. He shivers, nodding and quickly reaching down to Simon’s cocks so that he can coat his fingers in some of his wetness.
Simon shudders under him, hips jerking up into his grip, and Grace squeezes around his shafts before reluctantly pulling away. Thankfully, the slick that Simon’s body is producing is thick enough to not be washed away from the water.
Grace whines, resting his forehead against Simon’s shoulder as he begins working himself open. Normally he would take his time, try to be safe about it, but he has no patience for that right now; he presses one finger into his hole up to the knuckle, wiggling it around for a moment before quickly shoving a second finger inside.
He nearly loses it when he feels Simon’s cocks press up against his own, and he has to muffle a moan into the other man’s shoulder. Grace pumps his fingers in and out of his hole, scissoring them apart to stretch himself wider. He carefully presses a third finger, rocking back against them and letting out a shaky breath.
Simon is making some kind of noise, now; a deep, pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. Grace can feel it like an earthquake, rattling through his bones and sending a shiver up his spine.
It’s so deeply animalistic in a way that makes his cock throb.
“Okay, I—I think I’m ready,” Grace pants, wiggling his hips and pulling his fingers out of his hole.
He reaches down, quickly locating one of Simon’s shafts, and he lifts his hips up slightly so that he can position the head of his cock against his entrance. It slips against his skin a few times before finally catching on his hole, and he lets out a gasp when he feels it breach him.
“Gosh, oh, okay! Let’s just—oh sweet cheese and crackers,” Grace wheezes, arms flying up to wrap around Simon’s neck as he snaps his hips up, burying half of his cock inside of him in one violent thrust.
Grace cries out, babbling incoherently as Simon fucks up into him. He has no idea what he’s even saying at this point, completely overwhelmed by everything; the heat of Simon’s body against him, the frigid water lapping up against him, the massive cock splitting him open.
He can’t even remember the last time he was penetrated by anything larger than his own fingers, but despite Simon’s girth, his cock slides into his hole almost effortlessly. Grace can feel his other shaft sliding against his ass cheek, and he reaches back to wrap his fingers around it.
Simon grunts, digging his fingers into Grace’s hip as he fucks up into him. He can feel the sting of his claws dragging across his skin, but it just makes the pleasure in his gut burn hotter.
“Oh, fr—frick,” Grace gasps, clutching at Simon’s shoulders and rocking down against him. He can feel the ridges of his cock dragging against his inner walls, and every thrust leaves him gasping and whining.
His own cock is sliding against Simon’s stomach, sending him hurtling towards the edge of oblivion at record speed. Simon is licking and nipping at his neck now, too-sharp teeth scraping over his skin, and the thought of him marking him, claiming him, has Grace wailing.
“Come on baby, fuck, that’s it,” Simon snarls, pumping up into him, chasing his own pleasure with single-minded focus. “Perfect little bitch.”
The unexpected insult hits him like a punch to the gut, and Grace comes so hard that his vision goes white. Simon just fucks him through it, rutting up into him like an animal, and all Grace can do is make punched out little oh, oh, oh noises every time Simon impales him on his cock.
“Can you fit both? Please?” Simon asks, dragging his teeth across Grace’s neck and digging his claws into the fat of his hip. “Promise I’ll make it good for you.”
Grace already feels stuffed to the brim, like Simon is so deep inside of him that he’s going to break, but the thought of being split open on both cocks at once, of Simon pumping his guts full of come and staining him inside and out, of being so utterly and truly claimed—
Fuck, he needs it; feels like he’ll die without it. Grace immediately lifts his hips up, until only the tip of Simon’s cock is inside of him, and he guides the other shaft towards his hole.
It takes a bit of maneuvering, but after a few seconds Grace manages to find the right angle to make it work, and Simon lets out a deep, satisfied rumble as the head of his other cock presses in alongside the first.
This time, when Simon slides inside of him, the stretch burns. It makes his hole ache, where it’s being forced open around both cocks. Thankfully Simon goes much slower this time, rocking his hips up in a lazy, gentle rhythm, peppering kisses along Grace’s neck and murmuring words of comfort to him.
Grace whimpers, burying his face into Simon’s neck. It feels like he’s going to be torn in half, like he has an entire fucking fist inside of him, but every time he considers telling Simon to stop, one of his cocks will brush against his prostate and send a bolt of pleasure up his spine.
His own cock rests limp against Simon’s abdomen, but he already feels so close to coming again, and God, isn’t that a thought? He can’t remember the last time he managed to come twice in one day.
Both of them moan in unison when Simon finally bottoms out. Grace has never felt so full in his entire life, and he slides one hand down to his abdomen, letting out a loud whine when he feels the slight bulge in his stomach.
“Christ, just look at you,” Simon says, his voice full of awe. “Oh, but you were born for this, weren’t you sweetheart? Made just for me to ruin, just for me to fuck.”
“Uh-huh,” Grace whimpers, his voice high and reedy. “Ju—just you, only ever you! Pl—please, please, fill me up, c’mon Simon, please!”
He’s babbling now, completely lost in the overwhelming ecstasy of it all. Fat tears roll down his rosy cheeks, the coil of pleasure in his gut threatening to snap at any moment.
Simon snarls, a low, rapid clicking noise emanating from deep inside his throat as he rolls his hips up, grinding himself as deep inside of Grace as he can. Simon sinks his teeth into the meat of Grace’s shoulder when he finally comes, every muscle in his body going taut as he spills deep inside of him.
“Oh, fuck!” Grace shouts, nails scraping across Simon’s back. He can feel it, the searing heat filling him and sending him tumbling over the edge into his own orgasm.
Simon’s cocks pulse in unison as he pumps him full of his seed, and God, there’s so much of it; his stomach aches with how full he is, and he can feel the water around him heating up as the come spills out of his hole.
It feels like Simon’s orgasm lasts for hours. He just keeps rocking up into him, body twitching and spasming as he licks soothingly over the bitemarks littering his neck. Grace slumps against him, rubbing his hands up and down Simon’s back and tracing patterns on his skin.
Eventually Simon begins going soft, his cocks slowly retracting back into his slit, and Grace gasps and squirms at the sudden flood of come that rushes out of his abused hole.
“…Oh gosh, that was kind of embarrassing,” Grace mumbles, burying his face into the crook of Simon’s neck. “I—I’m really sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Simon just chuckles, licking over his neck again and dragging his claws up his side. “Well, I’m certainly not complaining. If I knew you were gonna lose control like that, I would’ve let you look me over months ago.”
Grace feels his cheeks go red, and he laughs nervously and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry. That was really unprofessional.”
Simon rolls his eyes playfully, tugging Grace closer and giving him a lopsided smile. “You should be unprofessional more often.”
He smiles back at him, gazing down into Simon’s mismatched eyes for a moment before slowly leaning down. Simon tilts his head slightly, brushing his lips against Grace’s, almost there, just a little closer—
The moment is immediately ruined by a loud, musical chiming noise.
“Rocky hear strange sound from biodome; what Grace and Simon doing, question?”