Chapter Text
"Can do both. Eridians efficient. Not like messy, complicated humans." Rocky chitters a sound like the wind chimes on Grace's grandma's porch, an approximation of amusement. "Rocky have ♫♪♪♪♫♬𝄫. Is for ◇♪♫□¡¤♫♬— leave and fertilize eggs inside mate. What humans have, question?"
"You know what humans have."
"What Grace have, question?"
Grace sucks in a breath through his teeth. "I- gee, Rock, that's— um. That's kind of a personal question back on Earth."
"Rocky Grace not on Earth."
"I know that, bud, I just meant that it's, uh. You know." Grace gestures vaguely and lets his hand fall back on the flat of his stool. "Private. For humans."
"Friend Grace trust friend Rocky, question?" Rocky's whirs pitch almost sad.
"Of course I trust you. It's just—" Grace rubs at the back of his neck. "This stuff is usually between mates. Like you and Adrian."
"Rocky Grace mates, too."
Grace makes a strangled noise at the back of his throat. "Pretty sure I'd know if we were mates, Rock."
"Grace no want, question? Rocky is good mate. Rocky take care of Grace. Grace watch Rocky eat. Rocky watch Grace sleep."
Grace looks away, cheeks burning fiercely. It's not like he can avoid eye contact with Rocky if the guy doesn't have eyes. The idea of being mates with Rocky… Grace doesn't immediately hate it. Grace might not-hate it a little too much.
Rocky scuttles closer, pressing his body up against the xenonite barrier of his environment, like he's studying Grace's microexpressions. "Grace heartbeat is loud and fast. Grace is scared, question?"
Grace feels like a gnat under a 1000x microscopic objective. Rocky's scrutiny tingles all over his skin like the weight of a physical touch. Heat coils in the depths of Grace's belly, spidering across the sensitive inner planes of his thighs. He clenches his legs shut against mounting warmth.
"Grace is… embarrassed, question?" Rocky lifts a claw and taps at the crystalline veil between them.
"I— shoot, pal, I'm sorry." Grace scrubs a palm over the lower half of his face. "I don't know what's up with me lately."
"Why Grace is embarrassed, question?"
Grace flushes hot. He doesn't say anything in answer. He can practically hear the gears turning in Rocky's brilliant head, or wherever his neurological processes are confined to. Rocky doesn't exactly have the conventional thoracic or abdominal segmentation seen in most terrestrial creatures.
"Grace leaks from ◇♫♬♪."
Straight to the point. Super.
Rocky's not one to hem and haw. Eridians hold direct and transparent speech in high regard. Grace imagines total, unremittent honesty is vital to a species without a pronounced visual dimension of communication. His face burns redder than ever, certainly more than when his students used to grill him about a prospective girlfriend or boyfriend. At least his kids would give up after a few minutes or so. He gets the feeling Rocky won't relent until Grace gives him what he wants. What that is, Grace hasn't the foggiest.
"Grace ◇♫♬♪ leaks when ♫𝄫♪¤ is stimulated."
Grace chokes on his next inhale. "That's a lot of new words, Rock."
There's no inquisitive lilt to Rocky's chirping. Right. Sonar vision. He can see and hear through walls. Thus far, Grace has pretended otherwise for the sake of his sanity when he has… private time. Rocky taps insistently on hyaline glass. He's not allowing Grace to pretend any longer.
Grace swallows, thumb digging crescents into the meat of his palms. "Why'd you ask what I have if— if you know already."
"Want hear from Grace." Rocky nudges his carapace against the xenonite barrier. "Grace gets nervous about ◇♫♬♪. Feel shame, question?"
"Well— not exactly, um. I don't really know how to explain it."
"Rocky listen."
Grace huffs a terse laugh, glancing up at Rocky and back down at his hands again. "See, some humans don't, uh. Some of us don't like to… engage sexually… as much."
"Humans call 'have sex'."
"Right." Grace blushes so bad he's surprised it's not steaming up his glasses. They're both adults here. Rocky's many times Grace's age. Grace doesn't know why it makes him feel all squirmy inside to field an alien's questions about human sexuality.
"Grace no enjoy 'have sex', question?"
"Yeah. Kind of," Grace settles for, deciding it's too complicated for him to fully explain the atypical wiring of his brain. Not because Rocky isn't smart enough to understand if he tries, but does the mere concept of asexuality even exist on Erid? From what Grace has gleaned, every Eridian happily finds a mate or several in their lifetimes. How does he go about explaining colors to someone born without sight?
"But Grace have sex in crew quarters sometimes."
"That's not— you shouldn't—" Grace shakes his head. He knows Rocky doesn't mean to make him uncomfortable. Heck, Grace's biggest problem at the moment is that the knowledge of Rocky watching him doesn't make him uncomfortable. Not in the way it probably should. "It's not really sex. Since I'm by myself when I…" he trails off and hopes that's the end of it.
"Rocky is here when Grace have not-sex."
"No, I mean—" Grace sighs and tries not to pull out his hair. "It's only me. Touching myself. You don't touch me."
Rocky sinks back on his hind legs and goes quiet in a way that Grace recognizes as careful thought. Stony fingers click together and drum against the aluminum composite flooring. When Rocky speaks next Grace nearly falls off his stool.
"Grace let Rocky touch, question?" Rocky's voice is steady, strong, sure, and it sends whitehot lightning shivering through Grace's core. "Rocky finish new suit. Can touch Grace without damage."
The words come out matter-of-factly, like it wouldn't cross a major line in their existing relationship to explore physical intimacy with one another. It doesn't seem to be a big deal for Eridians to partake freely in sex. It probably shouldn't be a big deal for humans, at least not in the ways people on Earth take issue with it. Sophia never minded that he was bisexual or trans, that he only liked sex every few months at most. Never did the whole "I never would've guessed!" that some people do when they think they're being supportive, but really they're making him feel like a test subject. Sophia was in the minority. Even in a place like San Francisco, there was plenty of room for Evangelical crusaders. He remembers a particularly concerned parent who lodged an administrative complaint against him for teaching their child about the Big Bang. His worst fear was that someone would discover his birth name and tell admin and get him ultra-fired. Guess he doesn't have to worry about that anymore. Being twelve lightyears from Earth and all.
"Grace focus, command."
Grace snaps back to Rocky in his enclosure, claws tip-tapping impatiently. The flat affect of Rocky's computerized voice giving orders throws heat across Grace's cheekbones, creeping down the line of his throat. This can't happen.
"Rocky want understand Grace. Grace is sad sad sad. Grace is lonely. Grace miss humans. Miss Earth." Rocky shuffles closer, joints bumping against glass. "Rocky read about lonely humans. Touch make less lonely. Make humans happy. Grace deserve happy."
God, of course— Rocky wants to see Grace happy. Rocky thinks this will help. Rocky just wants to help. Rocky's only ever wanted to help. He doesn't need to be talked into it, doesn't need to be tackled and sedated into helping others, saving the world—
"Grace think so much. Tell Rocky, question?"
Grace grips the edge of the stool like a lifeline, blinking back the sting of fresh tears. "I'm sorry, Rock, you shouldn't have to— you don't—" Grace shrugs, looks away and swipes at his eyes in a feeble effort to hide from Rocky. "I should go."
"Rocky fix."
"Not this time." Grace gives him a thin, watery smile, sliding off the stool and retreating to his room before Rocky can argue. Mercifully, Rocky doesn't follow even though he has a tunnel constructed throughout the entire ship.
The grey woolen blanket itches at the nape of Grace's neck, the soft cotton of the pillowcase his only reprieve. He grinds his forehead into the thin cushion, eyes closed so tightly it nearly hurts. The pinnacle of his life was supposed to come in the form of pay raises, maybe a tenured position. Yet here he is debating the ethics of sexual contact with a four hundred pound space alien engineer that looks like a sentient rock crab.
A gentle knock sounds at the doorframe.
Speaking of.
"Rocky knock like Grace ask."
Grace turns his fully into his pillow, though he can't help the slight smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I can hear that, bud."
"Rocky can enter Grace quarters, question?"
A pang of guilt twinges underneath Grace's sternum. Rocky doesn't know he's done anything wrong. Rocky hasn't done anything wrong.
Grace nods into the cushion. "Yeah, you can enter."
There's a new noise, scuffling, much quieter than Rocky banging around in his xenonite ball, and Grace turns his head to look.
Oh.
Right.
The new suit.
It's much more form-fitting than anything Rocky's tested out prior, much more flexible, fluorescent cabin light catching on diamondlike second skin. It's beautiful. And Grace is the sole purpose of this invention. Rocky did this for him. Grace curses as moisture springs anew to his lashes, joins wet heat rekindled between his legs.
"Apology." Rocky marches closer. "No want Grace upset. Want Grace happy."
"I'm not upset at you, Rock."
"Why Grace eyes leak, question?"
Grace chews at his lip. "It's just, um. Touching. That you made a new suit and everything."
"Rocky no touch Grace."
"I know," Grace says, ignoring the hollow ache in his chest at the reminder. "It's an expression. Means I'm happy. And grateful. For you."
Rocky trills and clicks his fingers together, almost in a sort of dance. "Rocky make Grace happy, statement."
"Yeah. You make me happy."
"Rocky like Grace happy. Happy happy happy." Rocky sings a series of cheery notes and shudders and hums. "Grace eyes and ◇♫♬♪ leak when happy."
Grace pinches his brow. "Rocky… new word?" he asks, though Rocky's said it a few times by now and Grace can guess what Rocky means with a ninety-five percent confidence interval.
"◇♫♬♪ is type of human reproductive organ. Most human male have different organ. Rocky no understand why. Grace organ is perfect. Grace is perfect."
A rush of heat soaks Grace's boxers. If he looks down he'll see a growing patch of darkness in a pale green weave of fabric.
"Grace leaks so much. Is very very happy."
Grace groans into damp cotton. "That's a different kind of happy."
"Rocky make Grace different happy, question?" Rocky steps closer, so close his body heat radiates over Grace's skin and raises the hairs on his arms. "Human word is 'aroused'."
"You sure know a lot of words, Rock."
"Rocky read many many Earth papers."
"You knew what you were doing this whole time."
"No understand."
Grace narrows his eyes. "I'm not gonna say it."
"What Grace not say, question?" Rocky has the nerve to sound satisifed with himself, prancing in quick rolling steps.
"Nice try."
"Grace want Rocky touch, statement. Rocky want make Grace feel good." A tentative claw hovers over Grace's head. "Grace must ask Rocky."
Rocky's hand finds a home on Grace's scalp, brushing over his hair in gentle, measured strokes, and a sharp moan crests in Grace's throat. His eyelids flutter and he fists a hand in the covers. Fiery, unabashed want curls low in his gut. His dick pulses and wetness seeps between his legs. He opens his thighs and crushes his hips down into the mattress, chasing the sparks that threaten to consume his mind in a wanton blaze of hedonism.
"Leaky leaky leaky human. Must ask for more."
Fuck it. Grace has no shame left. He can't get lower than this, writhing and trembling and crying into his bed from a simple touch to his hair. It's not like anyone else will see him like this. Only Rocky.
"Rocky, please. Please touch me."
"Rocky already touch Grace."
Grace creaks out a noise of sheer frustration. "You know what I mean."
"Not know. Grace must say where."
"Oh, my God, Rock, here!" Grace grabs hold of one of Rocky's hands just below the joint and shoves it up against the throbbing heat of his cunt and he cries out in relief.
Rocky croons and hums in low, satin notes. The vibration of it zings straight through Grace's clit and into the deepest reaches of his body. Grace's muscles pull taut and his mouth drops open, knees slipping against the covers.
"Grace supposed to ask proper. But Grace pretty when ■♬♪○□□. Rocky forgive."
Grace is too far gone to ask what that word means, and for once, he can barely find it in himself to care about anything beyond getting off and being good for Rocky. It probably makes him a bad scientist. He pushes his cunt into the merciless, stony rigidity of Rocky's fingers, whimpering in short, desperate puffs of air.
"Grace want more, question?"
The words settle over his brain like a fog. He nods furiously.
"Grace want Rocky ♫♪♪♪♫♬𝄫 inside, question?" Something like hesitancy imbues Rocky's trilling. "Rocky not hurt Grace. Never hurt Grace. Promise. Grace feel good."
"Fuck, Rocky, please," Grace rushes out before he can turn the request over in his mind. He aches for it more than anything else in the universe.
Rocky is magnanimous this time around, not pestering Grace in his addled state for further instruction. Two or three claws— Grace can't be assed to count at the moment— slide up the sides of his legs, find purchase in his boxers, drag them down his thighs more gently than Grace ever thought Rocky capable. Grace hisses as cool air hits the folds of his cunt.
"Grace ◇♫♬♪ is softwetpretty. Just like Grace eyes. Color of Earth sky. Grace ◇♫♬♪ color of rose flowers."
Grace flushes at the praise. Rocky doesn't exactly 'see'. Or at least he couldn't, not until he started fiddling with auxilliary light sensors that could pick up a range of wavelengths.
("Rocky want understand Grace world," he said.)
Rocky clambers on top of him fully, heat shifting across Grace's back. Something wet and molten and thick swipes across his entrance. Grace yelps an undignified squeak.
"Rocky stop, question?"
"No!" Grace cries out, a little too forceful. "No, please. Keep going."
Rocky purls a bubbling note and continues his exploration. Soft, unintrusive sweeps grow bolder, heavier, as Rocky learns where Grace likes to be touched most. Rocky probes his fertilizing organ around Grace's hole, clicking and humming a constant buzz of sound against Grace's dick, whirring happily with each strangled noise lured from Grace's throat.
"God, Rocky— oh, my God, I'm gonna— fuck, Rocky—"
"Grace stupid when ■♬♪○□□. Stupid when Rocky put ♫♪♪♪♫♬𝄫 inside. Rocky enjoy."
"Please, Rock, inside, need it inside—" Grace's eyes loll back into his head and he shakes all over, barely holding his hips up off the bed for Rocky. Grace twists his neck to look at Rocky's ovipositor and nearly passes out from the sight alone.
There's barely any give, not like human flesh, as Rocky tries to press into his hole. It's as thick as a man's forearm, dark jade in color, veined with streaks of pulsing electric green. Slippery, even through the suit. Something alarms vaguely in the back of Grace's brain. Rocky, ever observant, picks up on this.
"Chamber for ◇♪♫□¡¤♫♬. For eggs and for spermatic fluid. Neutralize so safe for inside Grace."
Grace looks, and indeed, there's a pearly, salmon-hued liquid issuing from a hole about the width of a Sharpie, contained in the suit before exiting through another layer to the outside. Like the pouched end of a condom, except undoubtedly more high tech. Grace wants it inside him so bad it hurts. He pants and whines and tilts his hips up and hopes Rocky gets the message and Rocky does, thankfully, pokes and prods and works the tip of his ovipositor inside. Grace moans, long and low, speared open so full he can barely flutter around the intrusion. Rocky answers him with a sequence of drones and rumbles, carapace shuddering and claws squeezing wherever they can grasp.
"Fuck me, please, I need it, need you—"
"Grace ask so nice. Rocky give what Grace need. Always give what Grace need." With that, Rocky plunges his ovipositor to the root, deeper inside Grace than anyone's ever been, pushing aside organs and muscle and God knows what else and Grace's body seizes, voice shattered into keening sobs that make his chest heave wildly, and he comes the hardest he's ever come in his life.
There's a claw carding through his hair when he returns to consciousness and Rocky greets him with delighted chirps. A perceptible lack of pressure at his entrance makes him frown.
"Did you— um." Grace's cheeks redden in spite of all they've just done together. "Did you leave your eggs inside?"
Rocky shifts his carapace in his approximation of a head shake. "No. Rocky want Grace watch when Rocky ◇♪♫□¡¤♫♬. Grace take eggs later. Grace rest now."
Grace sighs and allows himself to be held. He doesn't think too hard about what he's just been a part of. They're most definitely the first of their species to do something like this. Probably the last, too. Grace looks at Rocky and decides he wouldn't want it any other way.