Grif confesses something and it leaves Simmons unsure of how to respond.

Pairings Beyond Grimmons:

~Docnut

Other Notes for This Story:

~Post-Season 13

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

Confession

"What was that?" Richard "Dick" Simmons' voice was surprisingly calm when he spoke, although there was a definite anxiety-fueled edge to it that wasn't there before.

Dexter Grif didn't seem to register the redhead's tone. That, or, the chubby man just didn't care much since he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly in response, "You heard me."

The cyborg had to admit that Grif had him there. Obviously, Simmons had heard Grif. It was just that the content of the orange-wearing soldier's previous words had left him so inwardly flustered while outwardly cool and detached.

Grif had been oddly moody and pensive the entire day, which had been rather odd to Simmons considering they had all just had a party the previous night at Donut's insistence to celebrate Doc's getting out of the hospital following their near escape from Hargrove's ship.

Even though his social awkwardness made parties difficult, the redhead had to admit that the celebration had been something that they'd all needed after what had happened with Epsilon. Besides, Simmons knew that Grif had enjoyed himself there. In fact, the chubby man probably enjoyed the party way too much considering that Simmons had been forced to carry his fat drunk ass back to their shared room following it. Thank fuck for cybernetic arm strength!

The maroon-armored soldier could still recall the heavy, solid weight of Grif leaning into his side far too closely as they'd shambled through the hallways, ignoring the questioning looks from passersby. He could still remember how Grif had leaned into him with his arm slung tightly over Simmons' shoulders, whispering drunken, rambling promises about how he would take Simmons home with him when all of this war shit was said and done.

Honestly? Simmons was pretty used to Grif saying things like that when he was drunk, so his heart only sped up a little now whenever he heard those words from his chubby partner. He still recalled Grif drunkenly telling him once how he'd like for them to have a kid together, or how they should "totally get fucking married already."

The "taking Simmons home" topic often came up here on Chorus, most likely due to how homesick everyone was by now. Grif was especially homesick, and Simmons knew he had even missed his home back when they had been stationed in Blood Gulch and Valhalla too.

…When he sobered up, Grif would go back to his lazy asshole self and act like nothing had ever happened. He never seemed to remember their drunken conversations together, and that served Simmons just fine.

Really. Totally.

But, despite the obviously good time that Grif had the previous night, he was more pensive and seemingly more frustrated than usual when he woke up the next day. At first, Simmons had attributed it to a probably justified hangover. But, then he noticed that Grif refused to meet his eyes, and that the tan-skinned man was going out of his way to avoid Simmons.

The cyborg had wracked his brain trying to figure out if he had done something to piss Grif off but, beyond their usual banter and debates together, he couldn't think of a damn thing. Besides, Simmons knew that they both secretly enjoyed their talks.

So, naturally, Grif's attitude today royally pissed him the fuck off. In fact, he had confronted Grif about it in their room right before dinner and Grif had just blurted it out. That damn sentence that was currently haunting the cyborg.

"I love you."

That was where they were now. Simmons was currently still trying to process things and failing oh-so-spectacularly. Naturally though, given his penchant for doubting himself and knowing that Grif was an asshole when it came to pranks, Simmons' brain only came up with one viable option for what he had heard.

"…Are you making fun of me?" Simmons questioned seriously, hurt and anger causing his voice to tremble for the first time since hearing the supposed confession.

"What?" Grif frowned and stared at Simmons in disbelief, clearly not expecting that particular reaction.

He'd probably wanted Simmons to turn red and get all flustered seeing as how the lazy asshole always got a rise out of that, but Simmons was not about to let him get that satisfaction this time. The redhead tried willing the tears to not pinprick his eyes just then. Fuck it, he wasn't going to cry!

"This is…this is beyond messed up, even for a prank." Simmons stated hastily, heading towards the door, "F—fuck you, asshole."

Grif moved with surprising speed, although Simmons knew that Grif was fast when he wanted to be. Anyone who saw the orange-wearing soldier in the cafeteria could attest to that. The redhead sighed in frustration as Grif blocked Simmons' hand from reaching the door's control panel with his own.

Simmons spun around, flustered at the sudden proximity. He was now effectively trapped with his back to the locked door and Grif in his personal space.

Grif was staring at him with a serious, scrutinizing look on his face, "This isn't a joke, Simmons." He finally said with a surprisingly emphatic tone to his usually carefree and apathetic voice.

Simmons wanted to derisively bark out a laugh. Of course it was a joke. It was a joke that was shitty and going too far now. Who the fuck could possibly love someone like him?

Simmons was caught off-guard when Grif suddenly leaned in before he could laugh at the orange-armored soldier's comment.

A chubby arm became snaked around his waist, pulling Simmons' body flush with Grif's own as plump lips collided with Simmons' chapped ones.

The kiss was…magnetic, to say the least. Overwhelming and surprisingly passionate despite the fact that Simmons clearly sucked at it.

Simmons felt his legs going weak, heat pooling in his stomach. As Grif's tongue demanded entrance, he hesitatingly complied. Then it was as if a switch turned on, and he was returning the gesture hungrily, even eagerly.

By the time they separated for air, Grif was watching the dreamy look plastered on Simmons' still somewhat disbelieving face with a surprisingly worried one of his own, "Still don't believe me?" he finally asked.

Simmons couldn't speak, but he was all too aware of Grif's arm still wrapped around his waist. It was holding him in a close, secure embrace.

Grif took in a deep breath once more, "I love you, kiss-ass." He repeated again to the stunned cyborg.

Simmons remembered the sensations from that kiss just then. The redhead thought back to late-night conversations and debates that always made his heart pound and put a smile on his face. His mind also thought of drunken confessions. It thought of declarations that had always made him hopeful, that had always made him disappointed when they seemed to be forgotten.

Simmons smiled shakily and leaned into Grif's touch. It was his turn now to catch the tan-skinned man off-guard as he rested his head on his shoulder, hoping that the blush that was covering his whole body now was hidden from view by his red hair.

Grif's embrace tightened reassuringly and Simmons returned it. The constant, solid weight of Grif surrounding him like an unspoken promise.

"I love you too, fat-ass."

Author's Notes: Not entirely sure where the idea for this story came from, but it wouldn't get out of my head so I had to write it down. I apologize if it isn't great.