"I don't think anyone forced you to eat that entire wedding cake."

"Well they shouldn't have made it a two hour ceremony."

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

Dine and Dash

Richard "Dick" Simmons was really going to lose it. He just knew it was only a matter of time by this point.

Probably a lot sooner rather than later, now that he thought about it.

Okay, he wasn't so enamored with his work anymore despite still thinking it was important to have a good work ethic. Mostly on account of how it really didn't seem like anything he did was ever really acknowledged one way or the other by anyone on his team.

So, he was actually somewhat looking forward to some time off, but because he is Simmons the universe wasn't going to just give him a decent break. For starters, the one time he had managed to get any type of leave or vacation, it had ended up somehow happening to coincide with Grif's.

That wasn't so terrible, really. He had sort of been expecting that considering they had joined the army at around the same time apparently.

No, the worst thing about that whole fact had definitely been Donut's gushing about how that was just so "romantic" and so "them" after the lightish-red armored soldier had found out.

Coincidences were not romantic, and there was no "them" either.

Just a fat and lazy teammate in orange armor who couldn't bother moving out of the way whenever Simmons was around, and who seemed to go out of his way to never have to do an ounce of constructive work around the base even if his teammates begged or Sarge threatened him with bodily harm.

Someone who Simmons could talk to for hours about shit no one else cared to talk to him about. Even if Grif didn't really care about a lot of it either, hey, at least he listened. Someone who he couldn't help but smile around even when they often argued.

There was totally nothing there at all that would constitute any thought of "togetherness" even if they were often together all the time or seeking the other out when they weren't. Nope.

The redhead had always assumed, as was only natural given their differing tastes and everything, that Grif would pretty much want to go anywhere else where Simmons wasn't in his free time. Grif considered Simmons a nerd after all, and the cyborg therefore wouldn't drag him to any "nerd" things even though he suspected Grif would actually like some of them at least.

Which wasn't that upsetting to dwell on, really. Simmons had always been used to people not wanting to hang around him growing up.

Simmons should have just been glad at the prospect of getting the chance to have some leave time himself. Certainly not thinking on being alone again with nothing to do because it probably wouldn't be as much fun without even a tubby asshole mocking him over stuff.

But Grif had, surprisingly, thrown all of Simmons' expectations out the window.

When he had gotten the leave notice, the maroon-armored soldier was thinking about how he could always say there was too much work to do around the base even though a lot of the time he was seriously debating shooting either himself or someone else to alleviate his boredom there.

The second the Hawaiian had processed the announcement about their leave as Simmons was contemplating inwardly just losing his free days so he could save a bit of face, Grif glanced over at him disinterestedly and shrugged, "Any ideas where we should go?"

Simmons blanched, "Wha—what? You mean," he paused, brain having to take a few seconds to process what he had just heard, "You want to go on vacation together?"

The redhead tried not to react too much at the prospect of being included, feeling the sudden urge to sniffle.

He lost that about two seconds later when Grif once again shrugged, "Yeah, well, it would make things easier, wouldn't it?" he remarked, "Plus, it's kind of sad to go somewhere all by yourself, dude."

All perfectly logical reasons and, really, Simmons shouldn't feel disappointed or awkward and definitely not upset that he couldn't get a special invite from a teammate who barely counted as a friend sometimes.

Who would want his company specifically, after all?

"Oh." He didn't let his shoulders slump too much, and he felt slightly proud.

"Yeah," Grif was chomping on a burrito he had procured from who knows where. Seriously, he had so many hiding spots in his armor for food, Simmons didn't want to even think too much on where some of those compartments had to be located or what condition they were in now, "As long as you didn't plan to go somewhere boring and nerdy as fuck, I'd be fine with it."

Simmons bristled, "I don't go anywhere nerdy or boring, fatass!"

"Really?" Grif looked at him incredulously, "I bet you were planning to go camp out at a museum."

"W—well, if there happened to be one in the area."

"Nerd." Grif looked triumphant at the trailed off admission from his teammate, then shook his head emphatically, "Which is definitely why you should hang out with me on vacation." He informed him as if this made perfect sense, "We will not be going to any museums in the Vegas Quadrant."

"V—Vegas Quadrant?" Simmons hadn't even thought of that as a possible travel destination.

"Well," and here Grif tore off a huge chunk of his food and pointedly ignored the grimace on his freckled teammate's face, "I would have said we should go to Hawaii because you could definitely use some color and it would be nice to show you around."

Simmons was way too shocked at the fact that Grif had actually seemed to put some thought into all of this and had been thinking of even showing him around where he had grown up to counter that he would have only burned horribly in the sun as Grif continued.

"But, since apparently Earth is too expensive to get back to, Vegas Quadrant is a good alternative." He concluded, not noticing Simmons' reaction to his earlier remark at all as he listed some of the reasons why he thought that was the case, "Nightlife, gambling—"

"All you can eat buffets." Simmons interjected wryly, just knowing that was going to come up next given the gleam in Grif's dark eyes that only ever came about when he was contemplating food.

Grif grinned, "Yes, that's definitely a perk too."

So that was how the two of them had decided where to go on leave.

Where they had ended up though was most certainly not the Vegas Quadrant.

A fact that Grif brought up just a few seconds after the transport had landed for urgent emergency maintenance and to check on the condition of some evidently volatile cargo. Yeah, probably would have liked to have known about that before boarding.

Only, Grif's particular words of choice about the detour were with more expletives.

Simmons frowned, not really liking the mishap either but knowing there wasn't too much they could do about it.

Besides, while the idea of having some fun in the Vegas Quadrant and getting away from work had sounded quite appealing all things considered, he also had been dreading the later altercations that would follow Grif inevitably getting them kicked out of several all-you-can-eat buffets and impromptu body cavity searches.

Not sure why he had thought of that one, but it had popped up in his nightmare scenarios about what could go wrong on the trip way more than the cyborg would have expected.

Truthfully, the planet they were stuck on didn't seem too horrible in that kind of boring, you-just-don't-think-of-it-much-either-way sort of deal. It was a quiet little colony outpost world, and something about its unassuming streets and sights reminded Simmons somewhat of his hometown.

You know, his hometown minus all of the repressed feelings, the asshole father who always belittled him and made him feel worthless, and the jerks who tried stuffing him into his locker and mocked him for trying to tell them later why that wouldn't have been physically possible.

The redhead honestly didn't know whether to tear up at the sudden rush of nostalgia or get the fuck out of there just then, but leaving wasn't actually an option since their transport still needed to be repaired.

With the prospect of his buffet dreams being ruined, Grif looked likely to blow a fuse (irony, that, considering he was the one who was a cyborg). So, Simmons tried focusing on the positives instead while glancing at a directory nearby.

"Oh, look! They have a museum that focuses on the history of record keeping here!"

"Simmons," Grif whined, grabbing on his extended arm before he could lower it from what he had been pointing at with all the force of his considerable weight behind the gesture, "I'm in Hell."

It took a long time to pry Grif off of the floor after he'd collapsed there in the fetal position, with Simmons having to give numerous assurances that, no, he would not force his chubby teammate to visit any museums while they were stuck here.

They were going to be on the planet for a few days at least. Transports didn't come around too quickly, so they would probably just have to wait for their original one to be fixed. Which meant finding a hotel in the meantime, at least.

Of course, for as quiet a place as this was, naturally they had shown up on the same week that some big event had been scheduled and there was only one room available for rent in the entire outpost.

With just one bed.

Simmons was about to protest this when Grif, surprisingly logical again due to the fact that this involved getting the chance to nap quickly, told him that they did in fact need a place to crash.

The maroon-armored soldier agreed glumly, but reasoned he could probably crash on the couch or floor if nothing else.

Only for the room to be practically made up of just the king size bed, with hardly any space at all to even maneuver around it to get to the bathroom.

"I call the left side." Grif announced without preamble, jumping onto the mattress without so much as a care and promptly shutting his eyes.

Simmons was gaping at the sight, "How can you be so calm about this?" he asked, voice having gone shrill due to his disbelief.

His teammate cracked one eye open to glance up at him, "One," and here he brought up a finger to further illustrate his point, "I am fucking tired, so right now I just want to sleep."

The Hawaiian shoved another finger up before Simmons could reply that he always wanted to sleep, "Two: we've shared a room at base, so it really isn't that different if you think about it."

"Except we still had two beds and a line that clearly marked our personal spaces!" Simmons countered, not sure how Grif couldn't tell why this situation was different.

"That was what that was for?" Grif frowned at the declaration, "I thought Donut had been trying to redecorate again because lines were in."

"Why would he…?" Simmons could feel a headache coming on.

"Sorry, buddy, but I've been using underneath your bed to hide extra food and booze for years."

Grif grinned at the spluttering, incoherent noise that came out of Simmons' mouth following that confession.

"B—besides," Simmons tried in vain to bring the conversation back to what was going on now while making a mental note to check his bed when they got back to throw everything he knew Grif had hid under there away, "That isn't—"

The orange soldier cut him off, rising up slightly from the bed to grab the duffle bag Simmons was still carrying from his hand and throw it against the opposite wall haphazardly. Simmons was about to yell at his teammate since he had important shit in there (damn it!), when Grif pulled his arm and he was lying face first on the bed as well, head smooshed uncomfortably into a pillow.

As he was trying to muffle out curse words around a mouthful of feathery cushion, Grif lay back down next to him.

"Just quit spazzing for once and rest, all right, Simmons?" He said with a long-suffering sigh, "For what's supposed to be a vacation all you did was panic while prepping for it."

Simmons turned his head then to glare at him, "Yeah, and things haven't exactly gone too great since then either!"

He was so tempted to remind him about how Grif had been shaking and mumbling to himself just a few hours ago upon getting stuck on this planet. But, Grif started talking before he had the chance, as if knowing exactly what Simmons was thinking of saying to counter his argument.

"Look on the plus side, we got a room at least." Grif reasoned, and considering his earlier insistence about how this whole getting stuck on a backwoods planet was so horrible, his calmness and trying to look on the reasonable side of things now was infuriating.

The orange-armored soldier didn't seem to be nearly as upset about the bed situation as he should be. He even seemed happy, but that was most likely only because the lazy fuck could sleep anywhere.

"We're sharing a bed!" Simmons hissed back, trying to bring the logic that seemed to slipping from the tan-skinned man's mind back into play.

Grif shrugged, "Again, not a big deal." He told him in that frustratingly mature tone, "It's a king-size, so plenty of room."

Simmons sighed, knowing he couldn't really argue with that, before thinking of something else along those lines and smirking triumphantly, "Well, yeah, but with one of us being you—"

A pillow was thrown at the cyborg's head, "Shut up and go to sleep, nerd." His teammate joked back.

By the time Simmons had finally managed to fall asleep, Grif's hand had somehow found its way to rest on Simmons' hip heavily while he slumbered, and Simmons ended up finding out that when Grif's other arm was outstretched it was actually a pretty good pillow.

Neither of them mentioned that when they woke up though.

Simmons had decided to leave the hotel to check out the museum he had found out about earlier. Not surprisingly, Grif had opted to stay at the hotel and sleep in more. Honestly, Simmons was shocked he had even wanted to go to the Vegas Quadrant before, considering how he seemed quite content with just getting to sleep in late without being threatened by their shotgun-wielding sergeant for a change.

By the time he was ready to head back, Simmons was in better spirits. He had learned all sorts of fascinating information on record keeping that he couldn't wait to share with his friend even if he knew full well he would be mocked for what he considered "fascinating" in the process, and their transport was also apparently nearly done with its maintenance a bit earlier than expected.

He was just about to head inside when he saw a huge gathering outside of the hotel. Quite a large group of smiling people surrounded a very happy-looking couple, with rows of flowers all around and harp music filling the air.

Simmons couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight.

He had always been a sucker for events like weddings and other more open displays of affection, even if he would probably never get to have them himself. The cyborg realizing at the same time now what had most likely been the large event that had forced him and Grif to share a room here in the first place.

Not wanting to intrude on a romantic scene he had definitely not been invited to, he hurried inside and was attempting to retrieve the key card to their hotel room from his pocket when—

"Simmons!"

He paused at the sound of Grif's voice coming from a reception hall just outside of the lobby, frowning when the voice continued calling him over insistently. It made sense that, if Grif had found something he thought was interesting, he wouldn't bother leaving it.

It looked like, judging by how empty the place appeared, that most of the hotel staff were out attending the wedding. But, he really didn't want Grif's lazy yelling to get them in trouble with any of the few staff who were maybe still inside or any of the other hotel patrons.

Simmons sighed, walking over and stopping in is tracks suddenly at the sight before him in the space. The reception hall had obviously been set up for the wedding guests.

The same type of flowers filled the space in elaborate decorative set-ups Donut would kill to see. There were perfectly aligned tables and chairs with beautiful place holders on which handwritten calligraphy had been penned, all set up and waiting for people to come in and find their spots. There was even a buffet near another table closer to the back's emergency exit where the wedding cake was with a tower of waiting champagne flutes nearby.

The buffet, though, had massive holes in its food trays as if a wild animal had gone through the space. A wild animal that had evidently thought utensils and plates a waste of time. That particular scene decidedly not looking as if it belonged in such an elegant space.

Dread was pooling in Simmons' gut as he tore his gaze from the buffet to get a better view of the cake.

Which is where he found Grif, his tan face covered in white icing and most of the dessert around him already gone upon further inspection.

"Grif, what the fuck are you doing?" Simmons hissed, racing over to his friend.

The Hawaiian grinned, brown eyes shining as he swept the entire room with his arms, "Check out the free food, Simmons! This place is fucking awesome!"

"It's not for you, moron!" Simmons shrieked, "It's for the wedding outside!"

He really should not have to explain this at all.

Grif frowned, glancing past Simmons and outside of the reception hall at the mention of the wedding, "Didn't see their names on it."

"There are place holders on the fucking tables!" Simmons protested, brain about to explode, "Plus, a giant banner in front of the doors!"

"Not at the buffet though." Grif reasoned calmly, shrugging indifferently, "Anyone would make that mistake."

"No, they wouldn't!" The cyborg argued back, "You just did because you're a fatass, fatass!"

Simmons realized it was probably stupid to have said the same thing twice, but he was way too stressed at the moment to think about it.

Fortunately, Grif didn't seem to notice as he still seemed to be contemplating the current turn of events himself.

He sighed, looking over at the near hyperventilating Simmons pityingly as if he just wasn't seeing the logic here, "Well, why are they taking so long then? They've been out there for at least two hours."

"Because some ceremonies run long!" Simmons stamped his foot for added emphasis, "That doesn't mean you can just come in here and eat all their food!"

His teammate shook his head, "Clearly, you need to read up on dibs, Simmons."

He spluttered, "That doesn't even—"

Grif was ignoring him at the moment though, staring at the nearly completely devoured cake just then. It must have been huge considering the size of the table, but somehow it looked as if there were barely two slices left now. Grif's appetite could honestly be terrifyingly awe-inspiring if Simmons wasn't tempted to strangle him for it at the moment, "Though I suppose maybe the cake should have been a giveaway."

"You think?" Trying to reason with Grif was going to make the redhead burst a blood vessel one of these days, he just knew it.

"Eh. I get hungry when I'm bored." He shrugged, reaching out with his hand to pick at a piece of remaining cake still, "I'm saving the bride some calories. That should count as a gift."

Simmons couldn't take it, grabbing one of the nearby champagne flutes and downing its contents in one go because, fuck it, a missing drink was the last of their worries at this point.

He then turned back to Grif to continue yelling at him, only to find the tan-skinned man standing right next to him. Before Simmons could get any words out of his mouth, his teammate suddenly shoved a piece of wedding cake into it. His hand was still on Simmons' face as he waited for him to react.

Simmons blinked, caught off-guard at the sudden action and not able to say anything around the cake in his mouth. He knew some of it was on his nose and around his lips too. The redhead hoped he wouldn't end up snuffing up cake the next time his nose decided to reflexively inhale.

There was an odd, unrecognizable look in Grif's eyes as he waited for Simmons' reaction. His hand was still close and his index finger was absentmindedly stroking Simmons' cheek, probably smearing even more vanilla icing there in the process.

Simmons chewed and swallowed, brain only marginally processing that the cake was delicious. The cyborg was so shocked and red-faced over everything, and so much in a daze following that, that he couldn't even bring himself to yell when Grif finally lowered his arm.

That bewilderment broke somewhat when Grif put the remainder of the cake in Simmons' hand.

"Now you feed that to me, Simmons." He instructed, as if all of this made complete sense.

"Wha—?" Simmons held the cake up to eye level, still trying to process this current turn of events and failing badly at it.

Grif had fed him wedding cake, and he apparently wanted him to do the same.

The still organic part of his face went even redder at the realization, his confusion growing even more and he was fairly certain the machinery that acted as his heart now was probably close to burning out even more than when he had been yelling before.

That was what people did once they got married, wasn't it?

So, why was Grif—?

Grif sighed, becoming impatient at how long it was taking the wheels inside Simmons' brain to turn.

He grasped Simmons' hand and brought it to his mouth, eating the cake from Simmons' outstretched hand. Simmons only now realizing it was his still human one.

The redhead's face was as hot as a furnace now, and he was fairly certain his legs were going to turn to jelly. Especially when Grif used his tongue to get at the icing left behind on his fingers.

Grif hugged him following that, which was a good thing considering Simmons' mind was going a mile a minute and he felt oddly faint.

"Not too bad a practice run." He murmured near the pale man's ear.

"What—?"

But, before Simmons could properly ask what Grif meant by that, there were shouts and cursing coming from behind them, signifying that the wedding party had finally come in and was just now seeing the carnage.

Grif laughed. Damn it, the cyborg couldn't help but admit he had a good one even when Simmons was trying very hard to stay furious at him for this shit! He gripped Simmons' hand in his own, running and pulling the confused soldier along with him and away from the rather rightfully angry mob now hot on their heels.

Grif did, in fact, make it up to the couple later on by paying for a replacement party, but only at Simmons' insistence because he really didn't want to feel guilty by association.

They ended up having to hide out until the transport was ready to leave. Still, their leave had certainly been an event filled distraction from the boring everyday routine of work at Red Base at the very least.

Their vacation ended up being cut short, as they were taken back to base given the transport's still continued maintenance issues. So, it looked like it would be quite a while before they would finally get the chance to actually get to the Vegas Quadrant.

On the ride back, Grif sat next to a still very dumbfounded and shocked Simmons, holding his hand the entire way as he realized it would definitely be a bit longer yet before the cyborg could process everything that had happened. That was when the Hawaiian noticed the smear of icing still on the other man's face.

He leaned over and put his lips to the spot on Simmons' cheek, licking it clean a second later. Grinning as he pulled away and Simmons blushed even more.

"You know, that cake was pretty good." He remarked contemplatively, talking both to Simmons and to himself, "But, we should definitely go with chocolate cake for ours."

"Yeah, yeah." It took Simmons a few seconds given the haze of confusion he was still in to really process what his teammate had just said then, his eyes lingering still on their entwined hands, "Wait, what?"

It would be a little while later for the proper proposal to happen too, but the response Grif would get would more than be worth the wait.

Author's Notes: I attended a family wedding recently and ended up getting the whole "wedding cake" commentary from Grif and Simmons in my head, so naturally this story ended up getting written down as a result! XD Not sure how I feel about this one exactly, but it was complete so I figured I would share it here regardless. :) Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read this! :D