Disclaimer: If I owned RVB, don't you think I'd have brought Tex back by now?
Hey! Zephyr here! I'm still alive, though college has a firm grip on my soul right now and refuses to let go. I came up with this idea around the same time when I came up with my upcoming Church/Tucker oneshot, but somehow I got this written first. A lot of my Church/Tucker story is actually handwritten (in class when I should be paying attention), so now I just really need to type it all up. I've typed up about two pages so far and I have a lot more ideas coming.
So this was kind of challenging to write not only because I find Grif and Simmons to be a hard pairing to write for, but because I have no idea what they look like in canon. I have my own mental images of them, as with the rest of the RVB people, so I kind of just went with that when writing some of the more intimate scenes. I slipped in a few references to BGC and Recollections, just in case anyone was wondering. That being said, let the deadly tale begin!
"No way. Absolutely not."
Simmons' eyes met Grif's and found that the resident slacker of Red team had his eyes on the sky as the two sat on top of Red base where they had spent the past several hours.
Simmons rolled his eyes and lay down on the hard concrete, putting his hands behind his head, and allowed his eyes to see what Grif was seeing; white clouds and the occasional bird.
"Why can't we tell him, Grif?" Simmons asked.
"I've already told you, Simmons." Grif replied, sounding agitated.
"Well, tell me again." Simmons looked over at the man next to him.
Grif looked at Simmons for a few seconds before turning back to the sky again.
"They won't take us seriously."
"How do you know that?" Simmons asked.
"Simmons, its Sarge and Donut." Grif said. "When do they ever take us seriously?"
"Okay, you've got a fair point." Simmons rolled his eyes.
"And when they find out that you're my boyfriend, they're going to think we're playing a joke on them." Grif continued.
"But we're not." Simmons interjected.
"They don't know that." Grif stated.
"Shouldn't we just tell them that we're not messing around?" Simmons queried.
"But we technically are." Grif smiled as he looked at Simmons.
"You know what I mean, Grif." Simmons glared back.
"Yeah, yeah." Grif said in that overly-used sarcastic tone.
"Why can't we just tell them that?" Simmons asked.
"You remember what happened when we told Donut that we were just joking when we stole all of his fashion magazines and sent them to the Blues?" Grif raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, but who's to say that it will happen again?" Simmons retorted.
"And how about the time when Sarge really thought that you were going to go bungee jumping off the cliff?" Grif went on. "Or the time where he thought I was really going to use the GameCube as a time-travel device?"
"This is Sarge we're talking about." Simmons pointed out.
"Exactly." Grif said. "It's Sarge. He won't believe us. And on top of that, we don't know how he's going to react."
"Okay, I see your point." Simmons said.
"I don't exactly think he's going to like the fact that Donut's not the only gay member of Red team." Grif added.
"But I thought you still liked girls?" Simmons was obviously confused.
"I do, but Sarge doesn't know that." Grif retorted.
"Well, you'll just have to tell him." Simmons said.
"Once again, Simmons, he won't believe us." Grif said. "Or me, in this case."
"He's got to know that something's going on between the two of us." Simmons said, leaning on his elbow so he could look at Grif. "We're always going off alone with each other."
"He probably thinks that we're going on recon or something." Grif shrugged.
"Grif, when does Sarge think you're doing work?" Simmons raised an eyebrow.
"Oh. Good point." Grif noted.
"We've got to tell him at some point." Simmons said. "He'll get suspicious if we don't."
"Okay, okay." Grif said, his hand finding Simmons'. "Let's just give it some time, okay? We'll see if he figures it out on his own."
"Donut, there's something strange going on around here."
Donut looked up from the gossip magazine he was reading and looked at Sarge, who was cleaning his shotgun on the floor of the living room where he was watching Resident Evil: Apocalypse.
"What's up, Sarge?" Donut asked.
"Something's going on with Simmons and Grif." Sarge said.
"You're always complaining about Grif." Donut said, allowing his eyes to drift back to an article about two famous celebrities breaking up.
"It's Simmons, mainly." Sarge explained.
"Has he finally allowed me to use his spare mechanical parts as decorative lawn ornaments?" Donut asked hopefully.
"He hasn't been kissing my ass as much as usual." Sarge stated. "Figuratively, of course."
"Well, why does that matter?" Donut frowned. "Maybe Simmons has finally realised that he's not going to be in command?"
"Why would Simmons ever realise that?" Sarge questioned. "He's always wanted to be in command! Starting from the time when he was first stationed in Blood Gulch!"
"Then maybe he's just being more secretive about it?" Donut suggested.
"And then there's Grif…" Sarge said with contempt.
"You're always complaining about Grif." Donut repeated his earlier statement.
"But he hasn't been as lazy as he usually is." Sarge said as he put the top back on the gun-cleaning solvent and faced Donut. "And I haven't seen him around the base as much as I usually do. Same with Simmons, for that matter."
"Maybe they're out scouting the Blue base like you told them to?" Donut suggested.
"Donut, when does Grif ever work?" Sarge pointed out. "I've got it!" he exclaimed before continuing. "Quite obviously Simmons has brainwashed Grif to carry out his diabolical plans!"
"That seems a little extreme, Sarge." Donut said as he started to read an article about an upcoming soap-opera.
"Simmons would do anything for a position in command." Sarge went on. "Short of killing me, of course."
"He'd kill Grif if you told him that he could be in charge." Donut said as he highlighted the interesting parts of the article.
"I know he would, Donut." Sarge said. "He'd kill Grif just because I told him to, anyway."
"Is there a point to all of this, sir?" Donut really wanted to get back to his magazine.
"Yes, Donut, there is." Sarge said. "I think we should spy on Grif and Simmons-"
"What?" Donut yelped in surprise.
"-and see what sort of diabolical things Simmons is doing." Sarge concluded.
"Pardon my rudeness, Sarge, but that's crazy!" Donut exclaimed.
"I'll let you repaint the interior of the base." Sarge knew this would catch Donut's attention.
Donut thought this over for a moment before asking, "Any colour I want?"
"As long as it isn't blue." Sarge said with a nod.
"Then count me in." Donut said. "I'll go get my super-secret spy kit and spy on Simmons using my awesome telescope."
"You mean the super-secret spy kit that's right on the kitchen table?" Sarge raised an eyebrow.
"Yes." Donut said as he walked over to the aforementioned kitchen and grabbed it by the handle. "Now let's get this show on the road."
"Grif, what the fuck are you doing?"
Grif tore his eyes away from the TV, which was showing an old episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and looked at Simmons, who was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
"What is it now, Simmons?" Grif asked in agitation.
"Did you write that inventory report that Sarge told you to write?" Simmons asked, though he already knew what the answer would be.
"Uh…" Grif tried to think of something that would sound believable.
"Just go do it, huh?" Simmons rolled his eyes before walking back to the kitchen.
"Okay, okay!" Grif exclaimed as he walked to his room to grab his laptop before sitting back down on the couch.
"Why don't you write it in here?" came Simmons' voice from the kitchen.
"Why would I write an inventory report in the kitchen?" Grif mused.
"How about because I'm bored?" Simmons replied.
"What are you doing, anyway?" Grif asked as he brought his laptop over to the counter. "Donut will be here soon to start preparing for his daily wine and cheese hour."
"It's my turn to make dinner." Simmons explained.
"Oh yeah?" Grif seemed surprised. "And what are we having tonight?"
"Probably spaghetti." Simmons responded.
"Again?" Grif sighed. "You made that last time."
"It's better than what you make." Simmons shot a glare in Grif's direction. "I don't know if ordering Thai take-out counts as dinner."
"Of course it does!" Grif exclaimed.
"And you don't even get enough for all of us." Simmons went on as he added some pasta to the pot of boiling water on the stove.
"That's because none of you guys like Thai." Grif said defensively.
"Have you ever thought of actually cooking for a change?" Simmons suggested.
"That sounds a lot like work." Grif complained.
"Okay, that's it." Simmons said. "You're making dinner tonight."
"Say what?" Grif raised an eyebrow in confusion. "It's your night tonight. I have tomorrow night."
"So we'll just switch nights. It's no big deal." Simmons said. "Besides, it's spaghetti! How hard do you think it is?"
"Well, Donut did screw up making that chocolate cake…" Grif said.
"That's because you put salt in the sugar jar and replaced the chocolate with beef cubes for soup!" Simmons exclaimed.
"Hey, I was bored." Grif shrugged. "Sarge was watching something in the living room and the TV wasn't working in my room."
"That's because Donut stole the TV!" Simmons yelled.
"Which is why it didn't work!" Grif exclaimed.
"It wasn't even there to begin with!" Simmons was getting tired of hearing Grif's excuses.
"Because it didn't work!" Grif exclaimed.
"That's not the point, Grif." Simmons managed to rein the conversation back to the original topic.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Grif's eyes were on Simmons.
"What do you think?" Simmons raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
"Okay, fine." Grif sighed. "Just so you'll shut up."
"Okay, now I need you to watch the pasta and make sure it doesn't burn." Simmons said. "Think you can do that?"
"Oh, it sounds so difficult." Grif rolled his eyes.
"Just watch it, okay?" Simmons said as he walked out of the kitchen.
"And where the hell do you think you're going?" Grif called after Simmons.
"To make sure that Donut is still scouting Blue base." Came Simmons' voice from the front of the base. "And that Sarge is still nearby."
"Why would it matter if Sarge is nearby?" Grif mused.
"Because I know there's always a slight possibility that you'll burn the base down." Simmons replied as he strolled back into the kitchen.
"I'm not that bad, you know." Grif glared as he grabbed a spoon from one of the drawers and started to stir the pasta before stopping for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute…"
"What is it now?" Simmons' eyes were on his boyfriend.
"You just told me to make dinner." Grif said.
"Yes." Simmons nodded. "And?"
"And you had just told me to write that inventory report for Sarge." Grif went on.
"And?" Simmons repeated.
"I can't exactly do two things at once, you know." Grif informed Simmons as he started stirring the pasta.
"Oh, you know you were going to watch porn and procrastinate." Simmons said. "I know you."
"Oh, I'm sure you do." Grif smirked.
"Not now, Grif." Simmons said as he felt Grif's arms around his waist.
"And why not, Simmons?" Grif asked as he rested his chin on Simmons' shoulder.
"Because Sarge and Donut could walk in at any time." Simmons retorted.
"You just said they weren't near the base!" Grif exclaimed, causing Simmons to flinch due to the fact that Grif was speaking at ear-level.
"That doesn't mean that Sarge couldn't come back because he forgot his mind-control ray beam." Simmons pointed out.
"But he doesn't have a mind-control ray beam." Grif frowned.
"We know that, but how do we know that he knows that?" Simmons went on. "And then there's Lopez…"
"It wouldn't matter if Lopez saw us anyway!" Grif exclaimed. "He can only speak Spanish! It's not like the rest of us can understand him!"
"Hmm…" Simmons considered this fact. "You've got a good point."
"I know I do." Grif nodded. "And since when do you care about anyone seeing us? I thought you were all for telling him?"
"Well, I'm not exactly sure I want him to see us having sex in the kitchen." Simmons explained.
"Point taken." Grif said. "But I still don't care."
"When do you ever?" Simmons questioned.
"Usually never." Grif replied before kissing Simmons on the lips.
"Grif…" Simmons tried to protest.
"Simmons…" Grif said before forcing his tongue in Simmons' mouth.
Simmons wrapped his arms around Grif's neck as the latter slid his tongue against Simmons', exploring the familiar territory. Before Grif could do anything, however, a loud crash sounded from the living room.
Grif jumped back, crashing into the counter, as Simmons hit the sink, turning on the water as he back hit the faucet. Simmons' eyes met Grif's and the latter dashed over to the stove and started stirring the pasta, creating the illusion that he, for once in his life, had been doing something.
"Ow!" came Donut's voice from the living room.
"What happened, Donut?" Simmons asked.
"I tripped over the drum-set." Donut said as he walked into sight.
"Which one?" Grif asked, his voice full of seriousness.
"The Rock Band set." Donut said. "I thought yours was in your room?"
"I had to move it to the basement while I was cleaning my room-" Grif started to say.
"You cleaned your room?" Simmons was clearly surprised. "Grif, you actually did something."
"-and Sarge moved it up to the living room." Grif glared at Simmons as he finished his sentence.
"Wouldn't you have seen it in your room when you got your laptop?" Simmons frowned.
"Dude, you know I'm not that observant." Grif said, turning his eyes back to the pasta.
"Simmons, I wanted to ask you something." Donut said as he faced Simmons.
"Donut, I'm not letting you turn the target range into an indoor ice-skating rink." Simmons said.
"Not even with the curling arena?" Donut asked hopefully.
"You know Sarge isn't going to allow that." Grif jumped into the conversation.
"That's not even what I was going to ask you about." Donut said.
"Do I want to know what you're going to ask?" Simmons asked, his voice showing signs of stress.
"I just wanted to know if I could hang strobe lights from the ceiling in every room." Donut said.
"Why the fuck would I do that?" Simmons questioned as he opened a can of spaghetti sauce.
"Because it's cool!" Donut exclaimed. "I was going to ask if I could have a sleepover with the Blues, but I know that's not going to happen."
"Not while Sarge is in command." Grif said. "Why would you invite the Blues over for a sleepover, anyway?"
"Caboose wants to give Tucker a makeover while he's asleep." Donut snickered.
"Caboose or you?" Simmons raised an eyebrow.
"Caboose!" Donut exclaimed. Simmons and Grif stared at Donut before saying, "Okay, I do."
"That's what I thought." Grif muttered under his breath.
"Donut, just go paint your nails or something like that." Simmons said.
"I already did that!" Donut exclaimed.
"Then go watch Desperate Housewives or whatever the hell you're watching these days." Grif said.
"It's Seventh Heaven, I'll have you know." Donut glared at Grif before walking off.
Grif looked at Simmons and said, "That was close."
"You and your need for sex." Simmons rolled his eyes.
"I'm not as bad as Tucker!" Grif pointed out.
"Well, unless Tucker is suddenly into guys…" Simmons began to say.
"Which I don't think is ever going to happen as long as Tex is on Blue team." Grif said.
"She's technically not a part of Blue team, you know." Simmons said as he pulled a pot out of one of the cabinets.
"But she's working with them." Grif retorted.
"She's a Freelancer, Grif." Simmons replied. "She's neither Red nor Blue."
"But she still works with them, Simmons." Grif said.
Simmons sighed and said, "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
Grif shook his head and said, "Nope."
"For the last time, Donut, I'm not going to let you turn the meeting room into a hair salon!"
Sarge was trying his best to ignore the pink-clad soldier, but Donut wasn't always easy to ignore. He had a way of making sure his opinions were heard, no matter how ridiculous they were.
"But Sarge, just think of how exciting we could make the base!" Donut exclaimed as he followed Sarge into the target range carrying a box of ammo for the shotguns. "And it's not like we actually use the meeting room."
"Of course we use it!" Sarge exclaimed, taking the box of ammo from Donut and setting it with the rest of the accessories for the shotguns.
"Not for meetings, we don't." Donut said. "The only time I go in the meeting room is when I'm trying to work on my Star Trek Kirk/Spock fanfictions."
"I use the meeting room to clean my shotgun." Sarge replied as he walked back up the steps to the main level of the base.
"You clean your shotgun in the living room when you're watching The Corporate Zombie Killers and The Harvard Zombie Massacre." Donut glared at the red Sargent.
"Not all the time." Sarge replied as they reached the kitchen and turned to face Donut. "Why are you so set on this idea, anyway?"
"Because I never have a say in what happens in the base!" Donut exclaimed.
"I let you hang up Christmas lights during the holidays last year, didn't I?" Sarge pointed out as he grabbed a bottle of strawberry Yoo-hoo from the fridge. "That should do it for a while."
"But you still said no to the idea of turning the kitchen into an Italian restaurant." Donut scowled.
"Who would show up anyway?" Sarge questioned. "Those lousy Blues?"
"Well, I know Tucker likes Italian." Donut nodded.
"Tucker likes Italian women, Donut." Sarge clarified. "Or any type of women, for that matter."
"That's not the point!" Donut exclaimed.
"It doesn't matter, Donut." Sarge said before drinking his strawberry Yoo-hoo. "Where's Simmons? I need him to take inventory for the ammunition."
"Last I saw him, he was watching Corpse Bride in the living room." Donut replied, realizing that his "project" was a lost cause.
But when Sarge and Donut ventured into the living room, they found no trace of Simmons. The TV showed a scene from the movie, but no one was in the room.
"I wonder where he'd be." Sarge said.
"Maybe he's in his room?" Donut suggested as he sat down on the couch in front of the TV.
"Good idea." Sarge said as he walked off.
Donut leaned back on the couch and had just started to eat some Chex Mix lying conveniently nearby when he heard a yell from Sarge in the direction of the bedrooms. Confused, Donut stood up and walked over to where the sound had come from.
"What's going on, Sarge?" Donut frowned as he reached the older man.
"What are you two doing!" Sarge was shouting to whoever was inside the room at the moment.
"It isn't what it looks like!" came Simmons' voice from inside the room.
"So you mean to tell me that you weren't on top of Grif?" Sarge was clearly quite hysterical about the matter. "Naked? In the same bed?"
"Whoa, when did this happen?" Donut questioned.
"Okay, so it is what it looks like." Grif could be heard from inside the room as well.
"What the hell is going on around here?" Sarge sounded quite confused indeed.
"Well, you see-" Simmons tried explaining before Sarge cut him off.
"Just get out to the living room where we can talk properly." Sarge said before walking down the hallway. "And put some clothes on, for God's sake!"
"Well, this is awkward." Grif said as he slid off of the bed.
"I knew that this would happen." Simmons sighed, sounding very much like his boyfriend.
"Why the hell didn't you lock the door?" Grif questioned as he pulled on a pair of boxers.
"Because you had my hands bound, Grif." Simmons shot a glare at the resident slacker of Red team. "I couldn't really do much, now could I?"
"Yeah, yeah." Grif rolled his eyes. "Well, now we've got some explaining to do."
"And it's not going to be me explaining everything." Simmons said as he pulled on a striped shirt. "You're involved in this, too."
"I never said I wasn't going to explain." Grif said.
"Well, let's get going before Sarge starts a riot." Simmons grabbed Grif's hand and dragged him out of the room.
When they reached the living room, Grif and Simmons found Donut munching on Chex Mix on the couch while Sarge looked like he'd seen a surgeon performing a frontal lobotomy on a patient who hadn't been given anaesthesia.
"About time." Sarge said when Simmons and Grif appeared.
"Okay, so where should we start with this?" Simmons sighed as he sat down on the couch next to Donut.
"How about why you were making out with Grif?" Sarge demanded.
"We were doing a bit more than that." Grif couldn't help but smile.
"That's not the point, Grif!" Sarge exclaimed. "And why the hell did you corrupt Simmons?"
"He didn't corrupt me, sir." Simmons clarified.
"Say that again?" Sarge asked.
"Grif is my boyfriend, sir." Simmons said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"But why would you be dating Grif?" Sarge wondered.
"Because I like him?" Simmons phrased his response like a question.
"But that's not possible." Sarge shook his head. "You'd never like someone like Grif. And a man, no less."
"Well, I do, Sarge." Simmons said.
"Dude, I don't think he's capable of understanding what you're saying." Grif said in an offhand manner.
"So I'm the only one around here who's actually straight?" Sarge questioned.
"Looks like it." Grif nodded.
"Hey!" Donut exclaimed.
"You don't count, Donut." Grif said to the pink-clad soldier.
"We were going to tell you at some point, sir." Simmons said. "We just didn't plan on it being quite like this."
"Just don't let me find you two doing anything under my nose." Sarge said, looking from Grif to Simmons. "It's bad enough with Donut around."
"Don't even say anything, Donut." Simmons said when Donut opened his mouth to speak.
"So Simmons…" Grif said his eyes falling on his boyfriend. "What do you say we pick up where we left off?"
Sarge flung the remote control at Grif's head and said, "Didn't you hear what I just told you? If you're going to screw around with Simmons, at least have the decency to wait until I'm not around!"
I kinda like the ending. I had planned on Sarge being in denial for a bit longer, but he understood the concept better than I had planned. *shrugs* So there it is: my first Grif/Simmons. I hope it wasn't too terrible. I shall hopefully finish my Church/Tucker oneshot before the year is out and I have plans to write a Tucker/Tex one as well. Peace out! Reviews equal love!