Return 7 of 9 - RvB

Title: Return 7/9
Author: Kyrianne
Fandom: Red vs Blue
Pairing: A new twist on Grif/Simmons
Rating: Well, R for like half a second in the beginning and then PG-13 xD
Word Count: 1178
Summary: He felt like his entire life was leading up to that very moment...
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;[
A/N: More awkward daydreaming and interactions from Simmons :] Also, Simmons' music choices are pretty lame. I tried, but he really only liked one song of mine, so... well, I'll let you see when you get there. xD; Believe me, though, it's cheeeeeeesy.

Simmons gasped wildly and thrashed beneath Grif, desperate to press as much of their bare skin together as was possible. Grif breathed a laugh and quickened his thrusting pace, moving his mouth from its spot on Simmons' neck to latch on one of his nipples. Simmons yelled hoarsely, fingernails dragging jagged raw lines down Grif's back. "Harder..!" he managed before another wave of pure ecstasy threatened to destroy him--

"SIMMOOOOONSSS!!" a voice bellowed, and Simmons shot awake.

"I NEED YOU TA FIX THE KITCHEN SINK! DONUT GONE DONE AND PLUGGED IT UP AGAIN!"

Simmons scrambled to get up, wincing at the stickiness in his pants. He threw them off quickly and jumped into another pair, telling himself he would clean up the others sometime later.

Feeling gross, Simmons stumbled into the kitchen to see Sarge with a monkey wrench and a huge pool of water around his feet.

"I tried ta unclog the darned thing, but somehow I busted a pipe," he explained upon seeing Simmons' incredulous face.

"But how did Donut clog it so bad in the first place?"

"Well, ya see..."

Simmons' mind trailed off, more concerned with remembering the way Grif's body was moving above him in the dream, lightly muscled and slicked with sweat. Sarge's voice was just mindless noise, and the shapes his mouth was forming made no sense. He ignored it. His stomach flipped somersaults and he knew there was no way he could tell Grif about his feelings, and no way he couldn't.

"...And that's why it's all Grif's fault," Sarge finished. At Grif's name, Simmons turned his attention back to his commanding officer.

"Oh, um, really? That's interesting, sir," he said, reaching over to take the monkey wrench from the older man.

"No it ain't, it's just Grif bein' a retarded monkey like always," he responded, handing over the wrench without fight, but he couldn't keep the glint of pride out of his eye for having just received a compliment.

It turned to confusion soon enough, though, as Simmons responded with something he never would have expected to come from his right-hand soldier's mouth.

Simmons smiled softly, eyes unfocusing for just a moment. "Well, Grif's pretty interesting on his own, sir."

"Uh, Simmons, did ya get heat stroke from washin' the warhog fer too long?" Sarge asked. The smile on Simmons' face, small as it was, was unnerving.

Simmons blinked and snapped out of another daydream. "Oh, um, no sir, I just meant that watching him is like going to a zoo. He's an animal, sir. A retarded monkey, like you said."

Sarge still looked a little unconvinced, but he nodded in agreement and stood to let Simmons take over with the sink. "Git workin'," he said simply as he left.

Heaving a sigh of both relief and exhaustion, Simmons turned to assess the damage to the pipe. It wouldn't be too hard to fix; he could probably manage in less than an hour. Moving in to start removing the damaged area of pipe, Simmons didn't notice when a certain someone sneaked up on him until a badly-stifled laugh exploded wetly into his ear. Simmons jumped and banged his head on the edge of the counter, yelping and clutching at his scalp before turning and glaring murderously at the person squatting behind him.

"Donut! What the fuck?!"

"I know which pipes you'd rather be messing with~!" he replied gaily, flashing a mischievous grin. Simmons just shook his head with disgust and turned back to the pipe, glad to hide his beet red face.

"Shut up, you broke the sink in the first place. You should be the one fixing it," he said gruffly, trying to change the subject.

Donut wasn't having any of it. "So have you told him yet?"

Gritting his teeth, Simmons forced himself not to break the sink further. "No, I haven't."

"Told who what?"

Both immediately turned their attention to the newcomer. It was Grif.

Simmons' mouth went dry as he looked him over. His hair was wet, presumably from the shower if the towel held languidly over his bare shoulder was any indication. He was in his boxers -- boxers, for crying out loud! -- like he was on his way to his room to get dressed but decided to take a detour to the kitchen to pick up some oreos beforehand. The orange pattern was mesmerizing, and it was all Simmons could do not to stare right... there...

Grif looked at him oddly for a few moments before Simmons remembered how to work his mouth. "Uhh... nothing... Nope, it's nothing, just Sarge, you know, I haven't told him that I don't want to fix this sink, because he doesn't like rebellion, you know, and--" He was cut off by a sharp elbow in the side. "Ow! What the fuck, Donut?!"

"Shut up," he said simply, flashing Simmons a look that said plainly: don't fuck this up, Dick, you're scaring him away with too much talking.

Grif raised an eyebrow. "Ooookay then. I'll just be leaving now." He stepped out of the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight, Simmons sighed heavily. "Oh my god, I really fucked that up didn't I--"

The door opened again. "Actually," said Grif, progressing quickly into the kitchen. "I came in for oreos, and I'm not leaving without them." He grabbed the entire bag and started out.

"Don't eat all of those!" Simmons called after him, perturbed. "You'll get fat!"

Grif stuck his head back in. He paused and patted his stomach a few times before smiling smugly and saying, "Too late."

Simmons groaned. "Oh, you're just too much sometimes."

"I know, it's what makes me irresistible." He shoved an oreo into his mouth, immediately detracting from his claim. "See ya," he said around the cookie, and he was gone.

Simmons waited longer this time to see if Grif was really gone. After about a minute, he let out the breath he had been holding in a long sigh. "He's right, you know," he muttered darkly. "I don't know how to handle him, and that really, really turns me on." He looked up and made a face upon realizing who he was talking to. "Um, yeah, pretend you didn't hear that."

"Hear what?" Donut replied, smiling knowingly. He mimed locking his mouth and throwing the key over his shoulder as he left the room. Simmons just shook his head at the other's dramatics and went back to work, though his mind continually wandered back to Grif.

Guess my plan of working all day is a failure, he thought, trying to feel bitter about it, but his heart felt light and full of sugar. Throwing all caution to the wind, Simmons let his thoughts drift as he worked.

I'll tell him after dinner tonight, he decided finally, already feeling nervous and jittery. His heart soared with his decision and he started singing off-key.

"And then I saw his face, now I'm a believer~ Not a trace of doubt in my mind~ I'm in love~~!"