Chapter three: not how it was supposed to go

Over two weeks had passed since Simmons was released from the hospital and nothing very big had happened since. Well, Except from Grif who managed to get a food intoxication by eating a years old Oreo.

The forces from both the rebellion as well as the federation slowly were formed to something you actually could call an army. Things were falling into order slowly. The Reds and Blues also survived somehow to live together in one house so far. There were some problems, of course. Like Sarge drawing a line through the living room and attempting to cut the table in two because he wasn't going to sit on one table with a dirty blue. Or things like small kitchen fires, mustard in the bed sheets or Donut using the yogurt and other things for facial masks. There also had been a few acts of violence and some bullets that got fired but nothing out of the ordinary. At least not for the sim troopers standards.

There were also good news like Grif being able to put on his armor normally again after losing quite some weight from the intoxication and Tucker making some progress with the swimming lessons.

As for Tucker and Washs relationship, it was still about the same as before. An undefined in-between. They were close, sharing a bed and often enough making out. It was pleasant and instead of odd it was becoming familiar for Wash. He knew that Tucker clearly wanted more but as he never found himself willing to go further he would always stop it short. At least Tucker was getting the hints by now and so Wash didn't have to kick him out of bed or something to make him stop. Usually at least.

It was early in the morning and Wash just made his coffee. So far it was only him and Donut in the kitchen eating breakfast. Grey wasn't back from her shift at the hospital and Sarge also was on patrol with some recruits. Carolina was already up and gone and Caboose apparently set to follow her and Church. The other three were still asleep. Under normal circumstances Wash got up about an hour or more before he would kick Tucker out of bed. At the moment it was just half an hour. He knew he wasn't sleeping enough but he was used to little sleep. Also, he couldn't really change it anyway. Plus, he really needed his coffee or a cold shower in the morning to have the nerve to deal with Tucker and from now on also Grif.

Wash just leaned against the kitchen unit while Donut hummed a song and slathered loaves. Enough for everyone still around, apparently. Washington already heard the steps coming from the stairs long before Simmons came yawning in to the kitchen. "Morning guys" he greeted and sat down opposite from Donut. "Good morning" Wash replied. He noticed that the Cyborg again was wearing pajama with the dinosaurs on it. It was plainly ridicules in his opinion but Wash had the decency not to mention it. From what he knew one of Simmons lieutenants, Jensen, gave it to him.

Donut meanwhile gave Simmons a bright and cheery smile. He didn't seem to care a lot about the dinosaurs. Then again, he was sleep in boxers with pink hearts and a shirt with a blue monster and the words 'come to the dark side, we have cookies' which Wash didn't consider any less weird. But of course he said nothing. It was better than Tucker who slept naked if Wash didn't force him to wear something (it was so ridicules that he still had to argue about that) or Caboose who always slept in his armor (seriously, not even he did that under normal circumstances).

"Sooo, Simmons", said Donut and brought Wash back to the reality where the pajamas still were horrible. "Do you want a slice with strawberry comfiture, with Nutella or with cherry comfiture?" he asked in a sing sang voice. "I'm sure you need something after such an eventful night."

Simmons face was flushing bright red from one second to the next. Wash looked at him over his mug, thinking that he really never saw anyone who turned red as easily as Simmons did. And on top of that the Dutch-Irish man had a similar all-telling pale skin as Washington that made it obvious whenever they were embarrassed.

Simmons tried to sputter something but he didn't get out more than a few strangled sounds.

"I think that means you wand one with Nutella. Good choice" Donut said unaffected by the fact that Simmons was very embarrassed. He handed his teammate a slice with Nutella. While the maroon soldier tried to eat down his embarrassment with the breakfast Wash spoke up. "If we are already at it… I'd like you to know that it's good for you and Grif if you are happy together any everything. And I'm sure everyone... uh, at least most of us are absolutely fine with it", the Freelancer started, looking at Simmons who gave him very confused look while eating his bread.

"But I'd appreciate it if you could restrain yourself a little because not the whole house has to know it every time when you are screwing Grif senseless."

For a heartbeat Simmons was just staring at Wash like a deer in the headlights. Then suddenly he cocked on his Nutella bread and started coughing like crazy, flushing in the deepest crimson ever. Donut whistled. "That was blunt."

Wash shrugged and took another sip from his coffee when he noticed that Simmons coughing didn't get any better. "Hey, you okay?" the Freelancer asked as he put his mug asides. "That's really not a reason to just die, Simmons" he said but before he could walk over to the maroon soldier Donut was already up and at his side, pulling him up. "I can do the Heimlich-Thing, don't worry!"

"Donut, I really don't-" trust you doing it right wanted Wash to say but Donut already had Simmons in the right grip and squeezed. Simmons gagged but didn't spit out the bread.

"Donut what the fuck are doing with Simmons!?" Suddenly there was Grif standing in the doorway, still in his sleeping clothes and glaring at the pink soldier in an interesting mix out of sleepy, pissed off and confused.

"Don't distract me, I'm saving your boyfriend!" announced Donut, squeezing once more. And this time Simmons cocked out a huge, saliva covered piece of bread. "Yes!" With a smile Donut guided his gasping teammate back on the chair. "If Agent Double-O-Nut comes from behind, everything is fine!"

While Grif complained Wash ignored the innuendo like he would with Tuckers and went over to the sink to get Simmons a glass with water to wash the rests down. "Jesus Simmons, it's not that bad that you have to choke yourself."

"Oh yeah? I'm sure you had absolutely nothing to do with that, huh?" grunted Grif who already was at his boyfriend's side. Donut was back on his place, smiling.

"He choked himself almost, not I did it." Replied Wash returning to lean against the kitchen counter and finishing his coffee.

"Yeah sure, and you were just standing here and talking about the weather" Grif said with more than a tad of sarcasm.

"No, I told him to restrain himself so not the whole house hears it when he fucks you senseless" Replied Wash as honest as before. Simmons coughed again but he sure knew why he didn't eat again. In contrary to Simmons however Grif didn't seem embarrassed at all. He even grinned at Wash. "Well, just get to know it. Then I will talk with you about restraining or not."

Wash groaned. What kind of answer was that? "Say whatever you want, it's still no reason to scream the whole house awake in the middle of the fucking night." So he might be a little annoyed about this. Because he really didn't feel like hearing the two all the time. And Tucker annoying him with it.

"How about not listening?"

"What part of screaming was unclear?"

"Nothing. But as said, you just don't need to listen. There are plenty of possibilities to do so." Replied Grif calm but with a gleeful grin. Wash frowned and finished his coffee before he put away the mug and massaged the bridge of his nose. Grif meanwhile got himself also a Nutella bread. Grifs relationship with Simmons was making him even cockier than before. Worse than Tucker, actually.

"You do realize that I'm not a virgin, right?" Wash said then, just to have it pointed out – again.

"Well, may be. But I'm sure you're still a virgin about 'that'. Because I'm pretty sure that you would already have had sex with Tucker if you would have some experiences to sleep with a man." Retorted Grif, taking a bite from the bread and looking at Wash while chewing.

"I think it's none of your business what I did or did not do. And I don't think it has that much to do with whether or not you are a screamer when having sex." Wash was considerate to keep his voice plain as usual and not show his irritation. He was good with that. After all he managed to fool the people from project Freelancer and the hospital ward for years.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Asked Grif while still chewing. Gross. Didn't he know he could swallow first? But the worst of it was that Grif was kind of right. He mostly likely wouldn't be as reluctant if he already had sexual experience with other men.

"No, it's just none of your business" Wash said again and crossed his arms.

"Well, I'm sure I'm going to know when you finally manage it to seduce Tucker." Replied Grif with a mischievous grin. Unfortunately he was right again. Tucker was also from the kind to scream the neighborhood awake. Wash already noticed that the night after this stupid never ever game.

And maybe he also was the type to like to know everyone could hear him. That might be the case too.

Donut and Simmons were talking something at the table. It seemed embarrassing as Simmons was sputtering and coughing but neither Grif nor Wash paid much attention.

"I don't think that seducing Tucker is the problem." Wash muttered with a frown. He said it more to himself but the moment Grif stopped eating and grinned like a predator Wash knew he made a horrible mistake.

"Oh, so then it's about you? Well, what a surprise. The normally oh so forceful Wash, the leader of our team, is getting timid?" the orange soldier asked mockingly.

Wash scowled at Grifs obvious amusement. Since he knew that Tucker talked to Grif about their relationship it was clear that he was aware that Wash was the one who refused to get intimate. Plus, Tuckers personality given it was probably rather obvious.

"It's not like that", Wash returned, snappier than he actually intended. First of all he wouldn't say he was considerably forceful. Nor would he say he was especially timid. He was… insecure maybe. And Grifs mocking comment considered he started to wonder if he was the only one who couldn't just cope right away with the fact that he might have feelings for a guy. He had feelings for Tucker other than friendship. It wasn't like he couldn't admit that. It was just not so simple as to just go with it. It was strange and confusing to always have been straight and never considered to feel more than friendship for another man. Especially not someone as different from him as Tucker. Who also was about ten years younger. And maybe twenty in terms of maturity.

Wash groaned frustrated as he rubbed his hands over his face before dragging them through his short, blonde hair. "God damn it, why do I even talk about that with you?"

"Dunno, because you look a bit frustrated?" Grif offered with a shrug and casually reached for the milk pack. "I just wanted to tease you a bit, not my fault when you feel attacked by my quotes."

Wash shot the younger soldier a glare. He counted mentally to ten before he exhaled. Hitting Grif wouldn't make his situation any better. "Okay, let me ask you differently. Why do you even put your nose into this?"

When the orange soldier didn't answer right away and only snorted, Wash continued. "Are you doing it because you are amused or because Tucker comes to you to complain?" It's more a rhetoric question. Wash knew the answer already. "And don't drink from the pack. Get yourself a glass."

"Both" Grif said honestly and took a big sip from the milk pack just to do so.

"He's getting frustrated because you're always pushing him away when he wants to go a little further. And it is funny. Come on, you would also make fun of me if the situation would be the other way around."

Wash glared at Grif and crossed his arms again. "Okay, first of all, you will run five more laps today" he announced. Grif stopped in his motion. "C'mon! It's just a milk pack, Wash!" he whined by the thought of more running. "And drinking directly from it is unsavory. Besides it's just five laps more."

Grif groaned and with that Wash collected all the dishes left and put them next to the sink. He had made a roster for who had to do what chore to make sure everyone did something to keep the hose clean. He hated it if it was messy. As for this week, he and Tucker were responsible to keep the kitchen clean.

"Also, I do have the decency to keep out of other peoples business. Because I want them to stay out of mine as well." He said simply while turning on the water. Tucker would be doing the dishes washing next time, then.

"That's bothering him too, you know?"

Wash, who had been facing the sink turned his head to look over his shoulder and frown at Grif. "What do you mean?" he asked since the statement actually caught his honest interest.

"You know, he always complains that he doesn't know anything about you. And that you don't tell him anything. If you really are in a relationship with Tucker, then it's absolutely necessary to also share a bit of you with him. That's an important thing in a relationship." Wash wasn't sure what to reply while he turned off the water once the sink was full. He just knew the first thing in his mind was no opinion. Because that would have been: We aren't really in a relationship from what I see.

"He wants to make everything right for you and be a brace for you if you need it. But you not telling him about you and your feelings doesn't help." Wash reached for one of the dishes, thinking that this sounded way too cheesy for Tuckers personality. He started to wonder if the relationship with Simmons also had bad effects on Grif.

"Only that words aren't of much help in Tuckers case." He replied then as it seemed the smartest choice.

"I know that he's not the most decent guy. But if you perhaps would talk with him before you make out it'll be different. He's as insecure as you. Because he doesn't know how you feel and think."

In the very moment Wash really wondered how it came that Grif thought he was in the position to have to tell Wash how to deal with a relationship. That was maybe something he could have accepted from York, back then. Then again the imagination would be ridicules if it wasn't for the fact that all memories of York came with either the picture of a shattered visor or a bloodied body.

"And you think it's only my fault?" Grunted Wash, cleaning the glasses and only briefly looking over his shoulder. It was what he took from Grifs statement. Asides from the fact that the guy apparently wasn't really in the picture of thingd. Tucker and insecure? If he would be a little more modest it would make things easier.

"I never said that." Grif replied, easily. "It's the communication that is the problem. You're too incommunicative and Tucker does it too much in the wrong way. But he can't smell what is bothering you. You have to tell him that."

Wash was done with the last glass and put it away before turning to face Grif. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter again.

"So, okay. I admit you are right. Communication is our problem." Wash started unnerved because he didn't know why the fuck he actually had this conversation in the first place. And Grif told him nothing he didn't already know. He was an adult man in his late thirties and not a lovesick teenager.

"Let me tell you it is not like I don't tell him anything. There's just not as much to tell as you guys apparently think."

Tucker knew what kept him awake at night at the moment. And there was nothing personal behind it. Maybe the thing with Locus was personal. But there was nothing to say as Wash had no clue what it was about in the first place.

"For you it might be nothing. But for Tucker it means a lot. Because he gets to know you like that. If you don't tell him even these little things then he's at loss. And you'll always dance around each other without ever getting really together. Because you are like the plus and minus polarization of a magnet."

First of all, Wash had to admit that the comparison with the magnets fit pretty well for his and Tuckers relationship. However, he was afraid he was losing the thread of this conversation and what Grif actually was talking about. He hoped that wasn't because he didn't get that much sleep lately.

"And Tucker always tells me that I am cryptic. So tell me Grif, about what kind of thing are you talking?" he asked, just to make sure.

"I'm talking about you telling Tucker what you think. What you like and what you dislike. I'm not saying that you should go to Tucker and tell him your whole story of your life so far. But if you make out. Tell him what you want. If he asks you something, tell him the truth and don't always push him away. If you are facing a problem, how about talking with him for once? If you do, you show him that you trust him and it'll be also a good training for Tucker to develop his leader skills."

Again there was a lot that came to Washs mind at once. This time starting with for the love of god, stop giving me advices how to approach making out with Tucker and don't even start mixing his training up with our private relationship!

Or Why the fuck has Grif of all people to talk about this with me!? And That's not the fucking problem!

There were a few more reasonable thing among it. Like that he did trust all of them - if it wasn't about horse-sense – and especially Tucker.

What he finally managed to settle for was: "I can't believe I'm having this conversation. Especially with someone who acted like a total jerk when realizing he had sex with someone and causing said person to crying the bathroom for over an hour." So okay, he was a little smug about it. Especially after Grif seemingly tried to intimidate him with his glare. That hit a nerve, huh?

This time it was Grif who was quiet for a few moments before he managed to almost fully calmly say, "At least I managed it together with Simmons, unlike you and Tucker. We are together, officially, and nothings so much in between like with you guys. You don't even know whether you're together or not."

Well. At least Grif was right about the not knowing part. Unfortunately.

"No one says we won't manage it too." Replied Wash calmly, turning away and beginning to dry the clean dishes now. "Oh and besides, I'm pretty sure things with you and Simmons hadn't been all too clear all the time as well." The guy was throwing rocks again while sitting in a glass house.

"Right, because I was too much of a coward to confess my feelings for Simmons and had to make a complete chaos out of it." Grif sounded pissed but the honesty of the statement mildly surprised Washington. He turned half back again while drying his mug.

"Well, you don't say" Wash replied vaguely. He was aware he was sitting in a glass house as well and so he tried not to throw stones.

Grif frowned at him and for a moment Wash thought he was just going to drop the subject. "You know…" he said then, calm and serious while looking at the Freelancer. "I think your problem is that you are too much of a coward as well."

The older stopped his movement, blinking.

Wash really was about to wise Grif up on the actual problem. He was about to tell him that if he had that long to come to terms with his feeling for Simmons that he should fucking understand that it wasn't as easy for Wash as to just talk with Tucker and things would work. Because it was so god damn confusing to suddenly find yourself in that kind of relationship with a guy if you never even considered to look at a man like that in all your life. And that it was fucking frustrating, the nasty feeling of uneasiness that would come over him sooner or later each time Tucker attempted to get more intimate. Because he just can't turn his attention away from the fact that it's another man touching him like that, even if he thought he really didn't care about this.

And Wash wants to tell Grif that it doesn't help him if people tell him to talk to Tucker if he didn't figured this out yet himself. Knowing people supported you was nice. But he had to come to terms with it on his own. He just... just needed time.

Wash had opened his mouth to snap at Grif when Tucker proofed his horrible timing by storming into the kitchen.

"Oh, hey Grif! I was looking for you!" he announced and halted. He looked uncomfortable from Wash to Grif and back a few times, apparently realizing that he kind of stumbled into, well, something. "Uh. Morning. Sorry for the… interruption of... whatever you did?" Tucker said and Wash exhaled, finding himself relived that he said nothing Tucker might have heard.

"What do you want?" Grif questioned.

"Ehm, Simmons is in your room, sitting on the bed and rocking back and forth, muttering something about wanting to die from Nutella. Dunno, man, he seems spaced out", the teal soldier explained and took a seat where Simmons had been before.

"Oh, and Donut just came out of the room."

For a heartbeat the kitchen was silent and Grif as well as Wash probably wondered when the hell the two red soldiers actually left. "I, uh, better check on him." Then the orange soldier got up really fast and disappeared back to the stairs. "You still have to be ready in half an hour, Grif!" Wash yelled after him.

Tucker watched Grif disappear, then shrugged and reached for the pack of milk. He was about to drink from it when Wash said in a stern voice. "Get a glass."

The younger groaned. "Why?"

"Drinking directly from the pack is unsavory. Also, Grif just drank from it. So unless you want to indirectly kiss him and or get herpes, you'll get a glass."

For a moment Tucker was thinking about the statement before he looked at the pack of milk. And then to Wash. "And what did you drink from?"

Wash sighed.