Simmons would probably never call Dexter Grif "shallow."

Pairings Beyond Grimmons:

~Robonut

Other Notes for This Story:

~Based on the Season 14 episode where Grif and Simmons looked at porn together.

~Written for the 15kisses comm on Dreamwidth. The prompt was "Sagittarius: #14 Shallow."

~Also written for Amaya_Ithilwen's prompt "Out of the blue." :D

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

That's Hot

Richard "Dick" Simmons would probably never call Dexter Grif "shallow." After all, the chubby man was definitely not shallow when it came to his own looks. It was hard to describe someone who couldn't be bothered half the time to shave properly or even bathe with that particular adjective.

All things considered, Simmons could maybe be categorized more on the superficial side himself. Oh, sure, the maroon-armored solider didn't pride himself on his looks or anything like that. There was a lot about his lanky, too pale cybernetic body that he didn't care for.

Still, Simmons was meticulous when it came to hygiene, his red hair was regulation length, and his outfits were always crisp and perfectly ironed. His parents had always been insistent on keeping up appearances, even as inwardly their "perfect" family splintered apart.

No, Simmons would note whenever he saw Grif absentmindedly smudge some sort of greasy food stain on to his mussed-up outfit, being "shallow" or "superficial" in regards to his own physical appearance did not seem to apply to his orange-armored teammate.

However, sometimes the cyborg did notice how Grif would seem to look at someone he thought was attractive. How Grif's gaze would slightly linger over their form, his eyes darkening ever so slightly.

It had first happened when they had been looking at Grif's stash of porn together, awkward as that moment had been for poor Simmons. But, Grif had offered and fuck it! Like there was anything else to do in that damn canyon? Grif hadn't seemed to mind looking at the porn with him, so maybe it was only Simmons who had made it weird.

Simmons, blushing, couldn't help but jump slightly when Grif muttered in a voice that reminded him far too much of the chubby man's little sister, "That's hot."

All the redhead could reply back with, eyes transfixed on the serious and altogether-different-sort-of-hungry look that had suffused the heavyset man's features, was a shaky nod and a squeaked out, "Y—yeah. Definitely!"

Weirdly enough? At that exact moment, Simmons' brain had oh-so-helpfully tried recalling when the last time was that someone had ever regarded him in Grif's current looking-at-porn manner. Unsurprisingly, the number was zero.

N—not that Simmons was complaining or anything! He knew he wasn't exactly much to look at. Besides, it wasn't like he had wanted Grif to specifically look at him like he was the most delectable Oreo out there either. No, that was so far off the mark that he couldn't even begin to explain what was wrong with that thought.

But still, every time since then, whenever he saw a flicker of that look cross over Grif's face, Simmons felt his stomach muscles clench and his throat tighten. He tried his best to ignore it, especially since Grif would always clap his shoulder conspiratorially as he continued to share his porn.

…It wasn't weird in the slightest, damn it! It wasn't even weird when Simmons, more than he'd care to admit, started to realize that he just enjoyed spending that time with Grif.

The cyborg just didn't like seeing that look on Grif's face anymore, especially when it was directed at the women in the magazines. He even found himself inwardly muttering how much of a shallow fat-ass Grif was every time he saw that familiar look in the orange-armored soldier's eyes. …That, that wasn't weird at all!

So, Simmons tried his hardest not to focus on his insecure jealousy that was totally nonexistent. He also tried not to dwell on how he could never have that look from Grif directed his way. Whether he wanted it or not being beside the point, damn it! The cyborg just went about his days, and his tumultuous friendship with Grif, as always.

It happened once, out of the blue, with a visit. Naturally, the visitor was one Kaikaina Grif. The day, like so many at Blood Gulch, started out normally enough.

Simmons had just exited the showers as he rather liked taking one right after Donut because the pink-armored soldier actually tidied the place up, unlike a certain lazy fat-ass who shall remain nameless. Stepping into the bathroom proper, the redhead was a little annoyed to find that his shirt was missing. He frowned, noting that it hadn't even been that long since he'd entered the stall to begin with.

A rose-scented, hand-calligraphed note on pink stationary from Donut explained the rest: evidently, Lopez had gotten himself dirty and all of Red Base was fresh out of cleaning rags. …What the two had been doing to cause the robot to get dirty in the first place was something that Simmons had long since learned not to ask about or dwell on.

In the note, Donut promised to have the shirt freshly laundered and apologized for any inconvenience. Inconveniences such as Simmons having to walk through the base back to his room half-naked, an idea that had the self-conscious cyborg squirming.

As he hurried along to do just that, Simmons overheard Sarge in his office muttering something along the lines of "Of course, the dirtbag just has to fraternize with the enemy!" But, for once, the redhead paid his commanding officer no real heed since he desperately wanted to get back to his room.

Simmons almost would have gotten there incident-free, until…

"Hey, gray nerd guy!" An all too familiar voice came from the open doorway of the kitchen.

Sure enough, Kaikaina Grif was sitting at the Red Team's table. The yellow-armored soldier was shifting through the pages of one of Donut's fashion magazines with a bored expression plastered on her tan features.

"My brother's gone to the bathroom or some shit." Kai stated matter-of-factly, raising a black eyebrow at Simmons' lack of a shirt, "Is this some kind of new dress code for your team? Because Church always yells at me when I try to take my top off."

"Yeah, yeah…" Simmons nodded, desperately trying to change the topic before his brain short-circuited completely, "Wait, what?"

The tanned girl made a face, leaning back in her chair, "I know, can you believe it? You guys can walk around topless all you want, but when I do it is indecent or some shit! Sexist bullshit, is what I call it."

"Um…" Simmons desperately needed a shirt and some coffee if this conversation was going to continue.

"Hey, Kai." Grif's voice came from behind them just then, and he turned around to see the heavyset man standing behind him, "Simmons?"

Simmons winced, afraid for a moment due to the unreadable expression crossing over Grif's features that he was about to meet up with the extremely protective older sibling side of Dexter Grif. His entire upper body turned red, "D—Donut stole my shirt! Honest!" The maroon-wearing man exclaimed quickly.

Grif said nothing in response. The tan-skinned man's hands clenched at his sides as his dark eyes narrowed, and Simmons gulped. The redhead prepared himself to get decked.

But, instead of reacting, Grif just stood there. Staring. It was as if he was combing over every inch of Simmons' body, a sharp outtake of breath emerging from deep within the chubby man's chest. It was Grif's eyes that gave Simmons the most pause though. He'd never seen Grif looking so intense before, outside of their looking at porn together moments.

Kaikaina watched the silent exchange with a smirk plastered on her face, "…That's hot. Tucker's going to hate that he missed this."

The whole incident had only lasted for maybe a second before Simmons' brain finally jolted back to life and he raced past Grif, the other man's eyes still boring holes into his bare back.

When they had met up again after Grif had seen his little sister off, it was awkward at first for a fidgety Simmons. But, Grif played it off as though it were nothing, so the redhead soon relaxed. They were back to their usual dynamic in no time flat, and Grif didn't even miss a beat in inviting Simmons to join him in flipping through his porn magazines again.

Simmons agreed even though he felt it would be awkward. Still, it seemed as if the incident from before had been no big deal to Grif, and Simmons didn't want to be the one to shake the status quo. So, he sat there next to Grif in his own uncomfortable silence, red-faced and not really looking at anything at all on the well-worn pages.

"That's hot." Grif suddenly said out of the blue but in his all too familiar "shallow" voice.

Simmons couldn't keep himself from looking up curiously then to see what Grif was talking about. Only, this time, Grif wasn't staring at the porn magazine. His eyes were glued on Simmons' face, the look in them unmistakable. Simmons gulped, and found that he couldn't look away.

They never talked about it, but their silent exchanges became more frequent after that. Whenever Simmons caught Grif staring, he couldn't help but mirror the same look right back.

Author's Notes: Just a quick story idea that I came up with that worked well for two prompts I had been thinking about. I hope it was an enjoyable read! :D