Chapter Text
It starts because Grace accidentally nicks himself with a knife.
The wound is hardly enough to justify the small hiss of pain he lets out, just a few drops of blood beading on the end of a finger as he grabs the nearby hand towel and holds it there to stem the bleeding. It’s enough, however, to draw the attention of Simon.
Grace hears footsteps enter the kitchen behind him and turns around to reassure him he’s fine when he catches sight of Simon’s eyes, wide with something he can’t place. Before he can even open his mouth to begin explaining, Simon advances, wrapping his one arm under his butt and lifting him into the air.
It’s not quite enough to throw him over his shoulder, but Grace lets out a small squeak of shock as his feet leave the ground, steadying himself by placing his hands on Simon’s shoulders. Simon brings him over to the couch in the living room and sets him gently on top of it, making sure he’s comfortably settled before stepping away.
He doesn’t make a move to do anything else, just watching him with eyes too dark, too red.
“I’m alright, Simon,” Grace reassures, holding out his injured hand for the other to see. “It barely broke the skin.”
Simon reaches out, grabbing his wrist gently and pulling his hand closer to investigate. Blood wells up on his fingertip again, but it isn’t enough to drip. He seems dissatisfied, but let Grace pull his hand back, wiping the blood with the towel once more.
“See? It’s basically like nothing ever happened.” Grace tries to dismiss cheerfully, but when he goes to stand, Simon doesn’t let him. His lips are pulled back into the beginning of a snarl, revealing slightly sharper teeth than normal, but no growling noise escapes, as if he doesn’t want Grace to be afraid.
Grace isn’t afraid of Simon—he’s never intentionally hurt him, and he doesn’t think he’ll randomly start to now—but Simon still lingers in the distance sometimes, like he’s not sure he believes it himself. Grace makes a show of settling back onto the couch, and Simon relaxes some. While he doesn’t think that Simon would hurt him on purpose, he knows better than to push when he seems to be struggling with something internally.
If he were to press too hard and make Simon retaliate on instinct, he knows Simon would feel guilty about it later, even if it weren’t his fault. Grace doesn’t want to undo months of progress for a little impatience. He’s gotten to the point that Simon has started to let his guard down around him, dropping the standoffish and stoic facade for teasing banter and casual touches.
They don’t exactly know the extent of the mutations that Simon suffered from the blood ocean, but Grace has picked up on a pattern of sensitivity to blood and some sort of heightened primal instinct, on top of the more obvious physical alterations. Luckily, there are not many people to bleed on an alien planet, but anytime Grace is injured to the point of spilling blood, even ones as small as today, Simon is almost immediately at his side. Normally, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, leaving shortly after confirming Grace is okay, but something must be off today. Either Simon is just usually better at repressing the instinct, or something has changed in the past couple of months, but regardless, he seems a little stuck, like he wants to do something but isn’t sure what.
“Do you want to sit with me?” Grace offers. There must be something particular about the couch if Simon doesn’t want him to leave it. “We can watch a movie or something." One without blood, that’s for sure.
Simon shifts finally, unsticking from his frozen pose, sitting on the couch next to him. Grace waits for him to settle into a more comfortable position, to recline against the cushions or drag a blanket closer, but he doesn’t. Grace figures he’s still stuck in some sort of haze of anxious instinct and leaves him to it. It’s only when he leans away towards the coffee table that Simon moves, once again wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close.
Grace turns to look at him somewhat amusedly, something like fondness building in his chest. “I was just reaching for the remote.” He explains with a small smile. “I wasn’t trying to leave.”
Simon’s face doesn’t shift, but he does loosen his grip, allowing Grace to reach the remote and deposit the small hand towel in its place. Ideally, he’d wash the towel out immediately because he’s sure the lingering blood smell in the cloth can’t be great for Simon’s stress level, but he can’t, so some distance will have to do.
“What do you want to watch?” He asks, tucking himself against Simon’s side. Simon doesn’t respond but instead bumps gently against him, partially tucking his face in the back of his shoulder. “You want me to pick?” Grace clarifies, and he can feel Simon nod against him.
Simon shifts as the movie starts to play, half pulling Grace into his lap as he props his feet up, arm locked securely around his waist. Grace doesn’t mind, leaning more fully against him, getting comfortable. He has a small hunch and decides he wouldn’t be a scientist without some experimentation.
“Are you cold?” He asks. “We can get one of the blankets if you want.” He offers. The blankets are within arm's reach and wouldn’t be a hassle to get, but Simon makes no move to grab them. “Okay. That’s alright then," Grace continues. “I’m a little cold, but I don’t want you to overheat."
Before he’s even finished his sentence, Simon has grabbed one of the blankets and tossed it into Grace’s lap. Grace stifles his smile as he drapes it over him and then turns to look at Simon for a moment. “Thank you, Simon.” He says softly, and he dares to think something in Simon’s eyes looks pleased. Deciding to give things a rest, he resettles comfortably against him, and Simon returns to his position, face partially squished against the back of his neck.
It seems he was right, then. Simon, or some instinct inside of Simon, is upset he got hurt and wants to keep an eye on him for a little bit—probably until he’s sure Grace will be okay. This seems to include taking care of his needs, or wants in this case, and keeping him safe, which is nice. Why Simon ever thought he’d be a threat to Grace, he’ll never understand, but for now he’s content to lie here and indulge Simon’s instincts. He’s not one to complain about a little pampering, no matter what Rocky says.