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On an ordinary night, Simon has a nightmare. This isn't the first time, in fact they'd both had their fair share of night terrors and jumpy mornings. Simon found himself back in the blood ocean again, beating against the bars of his cage, slamming the extinguisher against mutated ribs. However this time instead of the mysterious woman's voice, the ghosts of the sm-8, it's his angel's voice, and that's so much worse. He can hear his angel trying to sooth him into complacency as he struggles against the corded muscles trying to attach him to the sub.
He comes to still swinging, trying to strike out at the monster using his angel's voice only to feel his hand meet flesh. His breath is ragged as he forces his eyes open to find his angel's face underneath him, rapidly changing color with the pressure Simon was wrapping around his throat.
Letting go, he throws himself back in horror. What the fuck was he doing, how could he have! His back hits the floor, and he continues to scoot away from his angel. He almost killed him. He almost killed his angel, his love, his paradise.
Simon's breaths are coming in large shaking gasps, arm wrapping around himself as he curls up against the wall furthest from his angel.
Grace on the other hand is catching his breath, not yet moving from where he laid in the bed. After a few moments his breathing evens out and he slowly pushes himself up to sit. His gaze catches on Simon in the corner immediately, and he rushes over, only for him to flinch away.
He pauses just a foot or two away, and tries to speak, only for pain to.force a cough out of his throat instead, and a devastated look crosses Simon's face. Grace scrunches up his nose, and lets out a rough breath.
He reaches out again, slowing but not stopping when Simon flinches, and settles his hand on his head like he had when calming him when he first arrived. It just seems to make the other man cry harder, as he begins shaking his head and speaking words that Ryland can't quite recognize.
Until he catches a few phrases and realizes it's Latin. He continues to speak in a pleading tone, words unclear to Grace, as his hand clutches at Rylands shirt. Grace tries to lift his head, to look him in the eye, only for him to refuse and push his head further down, almost completely curled up on the floor as his words almost turn to chanting.
Grace, at a loss for what to do, leans down, and pushes his way under Simon, lifting him into a hug as they kneel together on the floor. He can't speak but all the same he nuzzles his way into Simon's shoulder leaving a kiss on his neck before doing so.
Simon doesn't return the embrace for several minutes, hand hovering behind Ryland in the air, still speaking, though it is shaky and fragmented now. Eventually he cracks, and the tears begin to flow as he buries his face in Grace's shoulder in turn, sobbing harshly. “M sorry, sorry, m sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't know it was you, I never, I never meant to hurt you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”
They sit there for several minutes before Grace manages to coax him back to bed silently. They lay there for a while facing each other as Ryland rubs at his back, and it's nearly morning by the time they drift off again. However when Grace wakes up, it's to an empty bed, Simon nowhere to be found.
He finds him eventually in the kitchen, making breakfast for them, and Ryland brushes his worry aside. He was probably just trying to apologize for last night. He smiles and ties to thank him, only to double over in pain again, startling Simon who hadn't noticed him yet.
His eyes catch on where Grace is clutching at his throat, bruises bright and obvious in the daylight hours, and he tries not to break down again. He looks back to the food, tears trying to force their way out of his eyes, and swallows before speaking, trying to keep his voice even. “I made some tea for you already. I wasn't sure what would be best so I used the one that said ‘for coughs’, just let me know… how to help.” He can hear his angel move around and take his seat, hears the slurp of his drink and the click of a mug.
He remains silent of course, and Simon has to force himself to turn, to make sure he did it right. It's not like his angel could tell him right now.
Yet his angel just sits at the table, smiling gently at him.
Simon turns back again. He knew from the second that his angel rushed to him that Grace wouldn't hold his actions against him, but he had come to learn by now that's just how he was. His darling was an Angel of Sacrifice, alone with the stars, sent to save everyone. Sacrificing his arm to save Rocky, sacrificing his life for earth, sacrificing his flesh to Simon, his time for the pebbles, his heart….. Simon knew his angel would forgive him, but he didn't deserve it. He needed to make it up to him somehow, and he would keep his distance until he figured out how to not let that happen again. The bruises around his angel's throat are a harsh reminder of his nature.
XxxX
Over the next few days Ryland is slowly losing his mind. He can't speak, his throat is swollen and painful, so he can't teach. One would think that meant he'd get a week or two off to cuddle and recover with his husband. Instead he's spending his time chasing him around, more often than not being unable to find him for hours. He would always turn up of course, whether it was in the fields run by the students or even inside the hail mary. He had also yet to return to their room, instead falling asleep on the couch during their movies, or on one memorable occasion, the beach.
Ryland was at his wits end. Every time he managed to corner the other man he would be met with a guilty gaze, eyes wandering away from him, as he uttered an excuse and slipped away. He even stopped eating his share of the meat, instead putting his portion onto Ryland's plate, regardless of who cooked.
If it wasn't for the ring wrapped around Simon's finger that he refused to part with, Ryland would be wondering if he wanted out. He knew better by now, knew that Simon was probably beating himself up about the night terror. He doubted seeing the shape of his hands around his neck was helping.
After about five days of silence and distance, Ryland throws on a sweater that can cover the dark purple, green and brown of his throat. He could finally whisper enough to have a short conversation, and he intended to make Simon listen to him.
He found him in the living room, focused on the laptop in front of him.
Ryland walked up, standing in front of him. When he isn't acknowledged, he gently grabs the laptop, closing it and settling it on the foot table. Even still, Simon sits there, gaze lowered to the floor, his hand in his lap, silent.
Grace lets out a small sigh, careful of his throat, before reaching out and settling his hands on Simon's cheeks, guiding his eyes to meet his own. There's still guilt there, shame, and embarrassment. “Do you mind explaining to me why you can't even look at me anymore?” Simon opens his mouth, but Ryland shakes his head. He wasn't done. “I know you feel guilty for what happened. I have already forgiven you, just like you forgave me when I pushed you the first time you saw me have a nightmare. I know it's different, you actually hurt me. But I heal. You didn't do it on purpose, I know you didn't. I want you by my side while I heal, not halfway across the dome.”
By the time he finishes his voice is raspy to the point of making him cough. He fights it, tears in his eyes as he clears his throat. Simon just looks at him for a moment with tears in his own eyes, before reaching up and grabbing the hand on his cheek with his maw.
“What do I do angel, how do I make this up to you? I can't…. I can't just ignore what happened. I know you forgive me, I understand but… I can't. I can't just act like I didn't do something awful.” His finger brushes over the back of his hand as he looks pleadingly up at him.
Ryland was at a loss. He didn't know what to do. Simon had already practiced taking over the household chores, and in an environment like theirs there wasn't much to do beyond the average day to day. It wasn't like he could regulate him to grading papers when half the students were studying things he couldn't even understand yet. He mulls it over before looking at him again. “I… I don't know. Back on earth there would probably be some therapy program, but we don't exactly have that here.” He rasps out quietly, “what would have happened back on eden?”
The other man seems to war with himself for a moment before admitting. “If I'd done this to someone on Eden I probably would have been killed. Returned to the soil.” Rylands eyes widen with shock, as he gasps, but Simon continues. “For smaller things Father would decide on a punishment. Sometimes giving up your rations, more work. Sometimes they were a bit more hands on.” He looked away, clearly not wanting to explain further.
He forces down a wave of nausea at the thought. “Is that what you were doing? Trying to punish yourself?” Simon closes his eyes at the words, guilt clear on his face. He doesn't say anything, the answers obvious.
Ryland tears up, but refuses to let them fall. “You didn't need to do this.Not only were you already forgiven, isolating yourself like this hurts me too. You…” he chokes down a sob fighting on his next inhale to keep calm. “You promised you wouldn't run from me. This stuff happens, we need to face it together.”
“What do I do? How can I make this up to you?” The words are desperate, his eyes frantic as he looks up at Ryland. “I saw…. I…” he swallows hard before trying again. “Would you punish me angel? I… I saw the folder on your computer. I was snooping, I'm sorry, I jsut… wanted to know more about you.”
The sudden shift in tone makes his head swirl just a bit. He… he saw those? Rylands face flushes as the images and videos he had filed and sorted flash through his head, trying to find the ones Simon was speaking about. Then it hit him and he blushed a bright scarlet. Ah, yes. Those.
While the relationship didn't last particularly long due to Grace's propensity for monogamy, it was a fun relationship that introduced him to an entire world if he was honest. While she was grossed out by the idea of him eating her out while… uh lets just say Simon beat her there. She was however happy to carve a heart onto her thigh to let him get a taste that way. She had introduced him to the world of heavy kink, nothing like the average studio video. Some of those pictures were actually from her collection of work, though not all. She actually turned out to be a professional in the community.
I mean… it could work. Grace wasn't too sure how he felt about it though. That kind of thing could work as a punishment usre, but unless he actually enjoyed it it was just torture. He refused to do something like that. Ever, not just Simon.
“Si, baby, it's pretty obvious that's a sex thing. Unless you enjoy it I would never even consider it. Punishment or not.” Simon flushes in turn, pulling away as Ryland's hands lower themself to his lap.
“I know that. I would never ask you to hurt me Angel, I know it's not your nature. But if you enjoy it I think I might, and I could repent while staying by your side.” He lifted the hand he was still holding, turning it over and kissing the inside of his wrist. “Please punish me angel? Help me be good again?”
Grace chews at his lip, thinking for a moment as he watches his and Simon join hands. He was asking. He wanted to try at least. The idea of Simon underneath him, completely at his mercy flashed in his mind and he shuddered lightly. It was tempting. He wanted to.
Simon dropped from the couch to kneel at his angel's feet, gazing up at him with a pleading expression. The thread in his mind snapped and he grabbed Simon by the hair. The other man gasps as his head is forced back to look his angel in the eye. “Alright pet, if that's what you really want. I won't do anything too intense, hands only. I'm not choking you in return. Instead, you're going to strip, and I'm going to give you swats until you feel like you've learned a lesson. Or until I feel like stopping.” After he says that, he straightens up, letting go of Simon and stepping around him to claim the spot on the sofa he had vacated.
Simon's left panting on the floor as he gathers himself. After a few moments though he stands and begins undressing. Grace smiles at him eagerly following orders, and watches him drop his pants. When he's done he stands bare, unsure of what to do, until Grace grabs him by the wrist and guides him to lay across his lap, ass in the air. He tries to relax and rest his stomach on his angel's lap, but hands guide his hips back up at an arching angle, and he can feel the air on his bare cunt.
The thought is quickly distracted by him feeling a second hand on his back, gliding across it making him relax and arch further. It slides down to guide Simon's arm to brace against the arm of the sofa and it makes his head fall into the sofa cushion at the lack of balance. He feels like a presenting slut, pussy out and open for the world to see, bent over his angel's lap.
Then his angel is letting go of his hip, resting it just below the cup of his ass, as the other lets go of his hand and rests on his lower back. “Im going to start. If, at any point, for any reason, you want me to stop, or slow down, tell me. It doesn't matter if you still feel like you need punishment, if you do not enjoy this we will find another way. Understood?”
Simon smiles softly to himself before answering. “Yes my angel.”
There's a swift strike against the center of his right cheek and he leans forward into his arm and lets out a rush of air. Huh, his angel had more of an arm than he'd thought. Another comes down swiftly on his other cheek, and he pushes himself back. Three more come down swiftly closer to the center and Simon slips at the force, sliding forward just enough for the next hit to slam down on the spot between his cunt and his ass. He moans, front slipping forward the rest of the way, crashing his head into the armrest. After a second grace pulls him back, righting him.
“Did you like that?” He asks, and Simon's head is so fuzzy he can only mumble in confusion. Then another hit comes down, this time firmly across his cunt and he falls entirely, shouting as lightning hot pleasure shoots up his spine. He can feel himself begin to leak, wetness dripping between curls.
Suddenly he's being flipped onto his back, legs spread as grace settles between them staring down at him. “Remeber pet, any time, any reason.” Then two strikes come down against his cunt and Simon throws his head back, arching up into the hits. It hurts, but it's so damn good. He spreads his legs further when his angel withdraws to check on him.
He wiggles his hips, whining, and Ryland pauses to hold his hips down. When he's still again he traces the pink and puffy folds lightly pressing his thumb in and out of his hole. He's soaked, he can tell, Grace's finger slipping through without even the slightest resistance.
Ryland pulls him open looking at him twitch before spitting down into him, pulling his hand away to swat it again. Three more strikes and Simons almost incoherent, head thrown back and forth, rocking down onto the hits with desperation. Suddenly the strikes stop, and Simon peeks his eyes open blearily to see what Grace is doing, when suddenly three fingers are stretching him open.
He keens at the stretch, thankful for the wetness that eased the way. Normally his angel just used two, it wasn't like he was hung massively, but with three fingers spreading him open all he can do is cry and rock down. He's close, so fuclimg close.
His angel's hand leaves its resting spot on his hip to replace the one filling him up, quickly striking at the soft insides of his thighs. Simon begins to let out a steady stream of moans as he begins chasing the edge of the cliff, slamming into his angel's fingers. Then Grace rotates them just so, and strokes at the spines lining his walls, and his eyes slam shut as his cunt gushes.
He's still a bit dizzy when he spots his angel undoing his pants to finish himself off. Simon sits up, nuzzling into Grace's hip to watch his hand move. Hes so fucking pretty. It doesn't take long before he can see him twitching, and he pulls back.
He looks up at his angel, meeting his flushed expression, then back down, and opens his mouth, Leaning forward just enough for the tip to brush his tongue every few strokes.
Ryland grabs at Simon's hair again, pulling his head to look up at him, and comes. It lands all over his face and mouth, a few strands even touch his hair. Simons doesn't seem to mind, licking at his lips and wiping his face with his hand.
Once they calm, grace leads them to the shower like he usually does. It seemed to work. Simon returned to bed that night, and eventually the bruises faded, and so did Simon's guilt. There were more rough patches, but together they were able to work things out.