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Summary
"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?"