Grif needs to learn to knock.


Pairings Beyond Grimmons:

~N/A

Other Notes for This Story:

~Transgender Character

~Written for the 15kisses comm on Dreamwidth. The prompt was "Sagittarius: #13 Blushing."


Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.

What Should Be Said

Richard "Dick" Simmons' face was on fire as he stood frozen in place, heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe that the fat-ass didn't have the common decency to knock. Well, actually, he could because Dexter Grif was just that fucking lazy. Having to lift an arm and a hand to knock on a door was probably just too much energy for Grif to exert.

So, instead, the orange-armored soldier just stormed right in and now all of Simmons' carefully arranged schedules and plans to keep this one thing to himself were out the window. Damn it, Grif!

Simmons gulped, now afraid of stepping out of the bathroom. Would Grif tell everyone? Would it become some sick joke that would serve to only further make him the laughingstock of Red Base?

Donut would no doubt shoot him sympathetic or pitying looks, which would make things even worse. Who the hell knew what Sarge or Lopez would do. And what would Grif say? Somehow, he couldn't take the thought of it being just another joking insult casually thrown between them.

…Because this wasn't something one joked about. Not at all.

Simmons' parents had thought he was joking right up until they suddenly hadn't, when they had no longer wanted a "freak daughter." He wasn't ever their daughter, but that was beside the point. He knew what their statements meant. He had seen how they had just watched him leave with such embarrassed, hurtful looks in their eyes. He so desperately wished he could forget.

He wouldn't, couldn't, go through that again.

He took a deep breath in shakily, then let it out. Right. It was time to just find Grif and get this fucking over with, much as he was loath to do so.

He finished getting dressed and wandered around Red Base searching for his orange-wearing teammate, unsurprised to hear the base's kitchen was in use. That was definitely the first place one should go to when searching for Dexter Grif.

"Hey, nerd."

He didn't have to wait too long to find the tan-skinned man either as Grif greeted him casually enough from the kitchen, two cups of coffee on the table top by which Grif sat.

"H—hey."

All of the indignant anger, the desperate desire to beg for mercy, the fear that Simmons had felt faded to an unsure, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Grif kicked the chair out next to him, beckoning the lanky redhead over in the laziest way possible as he grasped his cup of coffee.

Simmons sat down, not at all sure of how this conversation would play out. A part of him wanted to berate Grif for just barging in like he had, but that part was frozen in silence as he waited for the heavyset man to say something. Steam from the coffee mugs wafted upwards, and Simmons found it the only thing he could really stare at in the room.

"Sorry about earlier." Grif uncharacteristically spoke up a little while later, offering Simmons the other mug of coffee as he did so since Simmons had simply been sitting there like a deer caught in the headlights, "But when you gotta go, you gotta go. You know?"

Simmons couldn't help but snort and roll his eyes, "At least knock first, jackass."

The routine was the same as always, and Simmons was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would it hurt, or…?

Grif took a sip of his coffee, carefully studying Simmons. At length, he put his mug down and Simmons nearly flinched as if he was going to hit him. "You're you, Simmons." He stated almost too quietly for Simmons to catch, his sincerity almost painful in its earnestness.

For a lazy asshole, Grif could definitely get to the heart of the matter rather quick. When he wanted to. Which usually wasn't often.

Since when was Simmons an exception of Grif's? Simmons couldn't help but sit up a bit taller at the thought, "I know."

From behind their mugs, the two smiled slightly at one another. Neither chose to comment on the redness creeping up on their faces just then. The fucking coffee was still hot, after all.


Author's Notes: A work I wrote in honor of this week being RvB Trans Week. I hope it isn't too terribly written or anything like that!