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“Mark Watney? The same Mark Watney who needed special homework made because he got too bored of the regular homework and made his opinion of the fact loudly known, Mark Watney? He was stranded on Mars?” Ryland is stunned. Mark had been one of his favorite students before he left, if he had to chose favorites since of course he didn’t have any, thank you very much.
He’s been back to Earth for no less than a month, still adjusting to all the changes. Still adjusting to living without having Rocky near him. His therapist, acquired by Eva—a whole other story—has just suggested that he meet and maybe talk to the only other person who could potentially share such similar trauma with deep space travel. He certainly hadn’t been expecting the name of the astronaut stranded on Mars for a year and a half to coincide with the image of the pudgy-faced thirteen year old from his former second period science class.
The corner of her mouth quirks into a smile.
“You know him? I didn’t realize you’d taught him as a child,” she says.
Ryland nods, his eyebrows still furrowed together in shock. Clearly, he hadn’t realized that coincidence either.
The rest of the appointment passes by in a blur, his mind working hard to pay attention but failing. He does however, leave with a sticky note in his pocket containing a certain JSC professor’s contact information…
Mark’s class has just finished clearing out, and he starts packing his notes into his briefcase. It’s been a long day. He’s happy to teach the newest generation of future astronauts how to not kill themselves, but boy did it take a toll on his mental being talking about his own life-or-death experiences every day. He’s doing better overall, after being home for three years now. Especially so since the sun regained full luminosity a year ago thanks to a certain middle school science teacher of his.
What a guy.
He’d heard about Grace’s return the month prior, but between his classes and his own struggles re-adjusting to being back on Earth, hasn’t thought much more about his former teacher. Apart from how the photos of him coming out of the Mary’s new re-entry shuttle showed him looking both slightly harrowed and as beautifully gorgeous as ever. Whatever, so he thought about him. Fuck off, brain.
He continues packing his notes, throwing his book and pens in at random, thoughts drifting. Behind him, he hears the heavy oak door to his classroom open and close. Mark blinks tiredly, ready to answer whatever question his student had, and turns around, looking up.
“Mr. Grace?” Mark splutters, his eyes wide in shock. His briefcase falls to the ground, papers spilling all over the floor.
“Oh!” Mr. Grace yelps and immediately kneels down the same time as Mark, helping gather his papers laying splayed out on the tile.
Mark blinks at Grace, still trying to get his brain to process what he was seeing in front of him. He looks down and realizes Grace was now holding his papers out, both of them kneeling awkwardly on the tile. He numbly takes the papers, then looks back up, still unable to form words. He finds himself staring at almost the exact face from his childhood memories. Hypnotizing blue eyes behind slightly crooked glasses stare back at him. Sandy blonde hair, tussled slightly, and that thick knit sweater with foxes on it. Mr. Grace has barely changed. Only now his sweater is faded and his cheeks are turning red as he starts to bite his lip, clearly growing uncomfortable with Mark’s obvious staring.
Great, nice going dumbass.
“Sorry! Sorry! I mean, hi! You… Wow… You look exactly the same…” Oh perfect! Now his mouth is moving faster than his brain! C’mon brain, you’re better than this! You survived Mars, you can survive talking to your smoking hot middle school teacher who’s now the same age as you and less than a foot away. Yeah. You can do it! Don’t fuck it up.
Grace lets out a soft chuckle as they both stand up.
“And you look… very different,” he says, eyeing Mark with an expression he can’t quite determine. Grace blinks and the expression is gone, replaced by a bright smile. The same one Mark remembers brightening his morning every day for three years as a teenager. The same smile that featured heavily in his teenage fantasies. You’re killing me, brain. I mean fuck, man.
“I’m sure! It’s… I mean wow, it’s good to see you!” He stutters out, all semblance of coolness he possesses vanishing instantly.
Grace continues smiling. “You too! I heard you were teaching here, and wanted to stop by. Say hello…” His smile turns slightly awkward and his teacher looks away, clearly still unused to social interaction after so long without human company.
Mark nods. He gets it. He shifts, gathering his bag and righting his disheveled appearance as he speaks.
“I was just about to head out, did you want to walk with me?” He turns back to Grace once he’s situated.
His former teacher nods and they make their way to the door, Mark arriving first. He places his hand on the door handle and freezes for a few seconds. His breath stutters in his chest and he starts blinking rapidly. He immediately starts counting down from ten in his brain and inhales deeply, pulling the door open. Stupid fucking brain. It’s a door. A fucking door! You’re not on Mars anymore. You can handle a door.
He fails to notice Mr. Grace watching him, a considering look on his face as Mark holds the door open for him, holding his breath. Has no idea how worried Mr. Grace is, how simultaneously relieved he is to find someone as clearly affected by their experiences in space as he is.
They leave the classroom and walk through the halls, a comfortable silence falling between them, both lost in their own thoughts. They reach the doors and exit the building, both of them instinctively tipping their faces up towards the warm afternoon sun.
After a few moments, Mark turns to Grace, looking much better and more relaxed surrounded by the early spring greenery.
“Would you want to grab something to eat? I’m starving,” he says.
Grace smiles, nods, and they agree to meet at a restaurant that Mark frequents nearby. Mark walks off to his car, a smile on his face, glad to have such a prominent bright spot reappear in his life.
Ryland gets in the rental car he’s been using to get around Houston since arriving shortly after his precarious landing in the Pacific. He places his hands on the stirring wheel and leans forward to rest his head on his hands. He hadn’t even thought to maybe google Mark Watney’s name before going to see his classroom after a meeting at Johnson Space Center nearby—he’d been there to discuss his findings on Adrian’s biosphere. He had no idea Mark would grow up to be so… attractive… He squirms uncomfortably in his seat.
That’s your student! Get a grip, Ryland. He starts his car, arguing with himself. Well technically he’s not your student anymore… It’s not like he’s still thirteen. He’s clearly a grown man dealing with loads of grown man stuff and his arms are really nice, and oh fudge it! Seriously Ryland, get a grip!
He pulls out his phone, again courtesy of Eva, and types in the directions to the restaurant Mark mentioned, slamming down his train of thought as best as he could. The GPS starts and he pulls out of the parking lot, cranking up the radio to keep his thoughts at bay. He refuses to think about his former student that way. He won’t compromise his morals. Although is there anything really morally compromising about finding a grown man attractive? Grace huffs at his brain and turns the music up louder, ABBA blaring through the speaker as he pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. Wow, Mark wasn’t kidding, this place really is nearby.
He parks his car in the spot next to Mark, who’s leaning against the trunk of his car with a heavily judgemental look on his face. Grace furrows his eyebrows as he gets out of the car.
“Something wrong?” he asks, somewhat snarky.
“ABBA? Seriously?” Mark huffs.
Grace shrugs and tilts his head, resonant of the way Rocky used to tilt his carapace. His heart twinges when he realizes the similarity in their actions. Golly, he misses his friend.
Mark laughs under his breath and nods towards the restaurant.
“When I was alone up there, the only media files that had been left behind in the HAB were every seventies sitcom to ever exist and Commander Lewis’ entire collection of disco music. Every time I hear it now, it’s like nails on a chalkboard,” Mark explains with an easygoing smile as they walk inside. Clearly he’s not actually upset. Thank god.
Grace nods, his lips twitching up. “I guess I was spoiled up there, having all of human digital knowledge squared away on my little laptop,” he teases.
Mark laughs as they’re led to their table, Mark having spoken to the restaurant host while Grace teased him. They sit down and another comfortable silence falls between them, both sitting with menus in hand. After a few minutes they order their dinner and the two space-travelers blink at each other across the table.
“It honestly is really great to see you, Mr. Grace. I’m glad you made it back. We were all… we didn’t expect… I’m glad you’re back,” Mark says, fiddling with his napkin.
“Please, call me Ryland. You’re not my student anymore, Mark,” Grace says, feeling his cheeks warm slightly.
Mark smiles back at him. “Ryland, then.”
Grace’s chest flutters. Stop it brain. Don’t fail me right now. He takes a sip of his water and nods, looking down. He really should’ve thought this through before agreeing, he barely knew how to exist and act around people before he was forced onto a tin can and launched light years away from Earth, so he’s definitely out of his element now. Thankfully, Mark seems to pick up on the reasoning behind his awkwardness and fills the lingering silence by catching Grace up on what he’d missed.
He talks about going to school the day of the Hail Mary launch, the silence in their class as the substitute turned on the news feed and they realized they’d never see their favorite teacher again. He talks about his continued love of biology and later botany, his time in school and the peace corps. He glimpses over the general state of the world, focusing mostly on what he and his classmates had been up to throughout the years. He talks about the memorial they built of Grace outside the middle school; how it was renamed Ryland Grace Middle School after a renovation a decade ago. This causes Grace to blush and shake his head, the reality of his placement on the Hail Mary slamming into him once again. He shakes it off. Not the time.
Mark talks about applying for the astronaut training program and being selected for Ares III. He talks about his crew, skimming over his time on the Red Planet, but raving about how his crew pulled off an insane slingshot maneuver around the Earth to come back for him. He talks about floating through deep space tethered to the first human being he’d seen in over a year. He talks about coming home and immediately throwing himself face first into the grass once they reached land, and laughs while regaling the look of absolute horror on Beck’s face.
Grace chuckles quietly at that. Somethings really don’t change. He was like that as a kid, too. Grace internally shakes the thought from his head. He really needs to stop comparing child-Mark to adult-Mark. It’s starting to stress him out.
Their dinner comes out just as Mark is wrapping up the story of how he came to be a teacher for the Astronaut Training Program. Mark winds down and thanks the waiter, and they begin to eat. Grace is thankful for Mark filling the most of the space with his voice, finding the constant stream of commentary comforting. As they eat, he tries not to think about what Mark mentioned earlier, about being inspired to join NASA because of Grace’s sacrifice. He doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s inspiration. You said no. He quickly shakes the thought away, focusing again on his food as Mark continues to fill the silence between bites.
As they finish eating, Grace finds himself relaxing marginally, though maybe that has to do more with the wine they’d ordered. Either way, he was feeling better. Mark grabs the bill, rolling his eyes with a smile as Grace protests.
“My treat, Ryland. You kinda saved the world, man.” he says, and Grace sighs gently, nodding in acquisition. He pushes those annoying thoughts away before they get the chance to spring up. See, he’s growing. Well, maybe. Okay, not really. Whatever.
They get up and start walking over to the door of the restaurant. Grace grabs the handle before Mark can even think about it. Of course he had noticed Mark’s reaction as they left the classroom earlier that day, he had his own similar struggles with seat belts and other various remnants left over from his time in space. They head outside, the air chillier than before as the stars shine above. It feels like any old spring evening to Grace, though Mark can’t remember the last time it’s been so warm.
Grace turns to Mark, opening his mouth to thank him for dinner, only to find the man already staring at him. There’s something about his expression, something Grace can’t quite place.
“Listen,” Mark starts, tone soft, “I don’t want to presume anything but… I can tell it’s been hard for you… being back… If you ever want to talk, well… I’m here. And I get it, much more than you might think. Obviously we went through different shit and you were up there for far longer than me but… I know what it’s like to have everyone look at you like you’ve got some ancient wisdom just because you did something unheard of… When all you were doing is trying to survive… So if you want to talk, I’m here.”
Grace finds himself tearing up, and nods while letting out a wet sniff. His tears spill over and he reaches up to push his classes up to the top of his head.
“God, sorry, I don’t mean to cry, it just happens, apparently. Rocky always called me a leaky space blob because I’d just cry at the drop of a hat all the time and–” Grace starts rambling while rubbing his eyes before he’s abruptly cut off. A pair of arms wrap themselves around him, pulling him close. He leans forward and rests his forehead against the warm shoulder in front of him. The contact is unlike anything he’s felt in a long time, maybe ever. A quiet sob leaves his mouth, muffled by Mark’s jacket. He can’t remember the last time he was wrapped up in someone else so fully, so closely. The last time he can remember being this close to anyone was when he was clawing his hands into the dirt in desperation after being tackled by soldiers. The tears come falling faster. Mark just holds him tighter, whispering that he’s there. They stand there for a while, next to Grace’s car at the back of the parking lot.
The touch is grounding. Grace can feel himself calming down. He relaxes into Mark’s hold and sighs. After a few minutes, he fully gathers himself and pulls back a few inches, not too far. He reaches up to rub at his eyes.
“Thank you. I don’t know when the last time I hugged someone was…” he whispers between them.
“Anytime,” Mark whispers back. Grace sucks in a breath as Mark gently rubs his shoulder where his hand is still resting. “Let me give you my number, you can call or text me if you ever need another one.” His tone has lightened up, that hint of that same something he saw in Mark’s expression earlier back again. It almost seems… flirty? Grace feels his cheeks flush. He nods silently and pulls out his phone, handing it over to Mark without a work. Mark takes the phone with a smirk and quickly inputs his number, handing it back with a flourish.
“Well, it really was great to see you again, Ryland. Text me when you’re home safe.” Mark says, winking at the use of his former teacher’s first name.
Grace blushes harder, thankful for the darkness surrounding them, the only light coming from the moon and the parking lot’s lights a few hundred feet away. He nods and reaches up to fix his glasses.
“I will, goodnight Mark. Thank you for dinner and… just, thank you,” he says.
Mark smiles and nods, opening Grace’s car door for him. Grace tries valiantly to contain the warmth in his face but fails miserably. He gets in the car with a muttered “thank you” and pulls the car door closed behind him. He waves briefly as Mark walks around the other side and gets into the car next to Grace’s. Without letting himself think further into that interaction, Ryland starts the car and makes his way home.
Mark gets into his car, humming to himself. He knows it was risky, flirting with his former teacher just after he’d all but broken down in his arms at the slightest hint of human contact, but he couldn’t help it! Ryland was just so… adorable. Mark wanted to bundle him up in that stupid fox sweater and hold him until he was warm and safe and happy and–
Good god, dude, you gotta pull yourself together! What the fuck.
Mark takes a deep breath. Ryland. He’d only just barely maintained his composure when the man told him to call him by his first name. He turns his car on and waves again as Ryland pulls out of the parking lot, smiling to himself when he sees the man shyly wave back.
Mark pulls out of the parking lot, his mind running a mile a minute. Clearly, Ryland had gone through some shit up there that changed him. He thinks back to Ryland’s ranting. He mentioned a Rocky… I’ll have to ask about that when he’s more comfortable talking… The details of Ryland’s time in space hadn’t been released, just that he’d found the cure for the sun and more fuel to get home.
Mark pulls into his driveway. As he’s getting out of the car, his phone pings with a message from an unknown number.
Thanks again for dinner, got home safe! 👍
Another message follows shortly after.
This is Ryland, btw! Ryland Grace.
Mark grins down at his phone. Like I said, adorable.