Work Text:
“Simmons”
…
“Simmons!”
…
“SIMMO-”
“For God’s sake Grif, what the fuck do you want now?!”
“…Could you get me another blanket?”
Simmons sighed. “You’ve got two already. It’s not even cold, and there are no more spares. Suck it up”.
“But Simmons”, Grif whined, “I’m cold!”
“For fucks sake, you’re injured, not sick! Give it a rest!”, Simmons cried exasperatedly as he turned turning away from Grif so he didn’t have to suffer his disdainful gaze.
A few moments passed, and Simmons couldn’t resist a quick glance behind him. He let out a heavy sigh as he turned to find Grif was staring at him with pleading eyes that were so impossibly green and a pout that melted Simmons’ insides. He couldn’t help but feel pity for the orange solider- Sarge really did manage to get in a lucky shot that caught Grif square in the shoulder, and although he tried to act tough, he knew the Grif really was in a lot of pain.
There was nothing he could do about the blanket situation, however. Sarge and Donut were sound asleep in their quarters snuggled up tightly underneath theirs, and Simmons had already given his to Grif the last time he’d complained of being cold. Unless…
He walked up to Grif’s bed and quickly climbed in beside him before the the orange solider had a chance to question him. Simmons shuffled around until he was comfortable, then wrapped his arm around Grif’s waist, being careful to avoid Grif’s wound. He waited for a complaint, but when Grif finally spoke, his reaction was not what Simmons was expecting.
“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind”, he said gruffly, “But I guess it’ll do”.
That was enough for Simmons. It was late, and he’d hardly slept the last few nights since he’d be watching over Grif. They were both asleep in moments, too tired to question why the hell they were in bed together or worry about the awkward conversation they were probably going to have the next morning.
——————-
Simmons awoke the next morning the smell of cooked eggs and fresh coffee. Blinking himself awake, it took him a few moments to remember where he was, but it all came flooding back to him once he became aware of his arm that was still draped casually over Grif’s waist. Before he could say anything to Grif or figure out a way to get out of bed without alerting him, a familiar chirpy voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Oh, hey Simmons!”, Donut said with a wide smile, setting down a tray of eggs and toast on Grif’s bedside table. “If I knew you were here as well, I would’ve made more!
Simmons’ faced flushed a colour similar to his armour as he sat up and tried to edge his way to the bottom of the bed without waking Grif.
“I uh, I can explain’, he began hurriedly as he half climbed, half fell off the bottom of Grif’s bed.
“No need to explain anything to me Simmons; Sarge and I have seen this coming for a while!” Donut’s eyes narrowed. “But really, you picked a bad time for stuff like that. Grif’s in no condition to be engaging in physical activities, and you should know but than to-”
“Donut, shut up! It wasn’t like that!”
Donut eyed him disbelievingly.
“Really! He just got cold and there were no spare blankets, and he wouldn’t stop complaining so I had to do something, and I-”
“Will you two just shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep!”
Donut and Simmons turned in unison to face a very pissed off and half asleep Grif, who was glaring at them both.
“It’s alright Grif, I was just leaving anyway”, Donut said to him with a smile. “I made you some breakfast!”
Grif’s eyes lit up immediately. “Breakfast! Oh my god, where?!”
“It’s right there next to you, Grif, but if you need a hand, I’m sure your good friend Simmons will be more than willing to help you out”.
Simmons wasn’t sure he liked the way Donut’s voice had become sarcastic and condescending when he said the word ‘friend’, but before he could think of a snarky remark Donut was already halfway down the corridor.
Simmons was half tempted to follow him and escape the imminent onslaught of awkward questions, he heard Grif laugh softly behind him.
“Bet he was jealous when he found you in here in bed with me”.
Simmons stopped in his tracks. He was expecting a lecture, to be told never to come near Grif again, especially not not in his bed. A joke was the last thing he had predicted.
“You’re… You’re not mad at me?”
Grif was now pulling himself into a sitting position so he could eat his breakfast, wincing as the gash in his back sent a bolt of pain coursing through him. He stopped and raised an eyebrow at Simmons.
“Mad at you? For what? For finally taking a hint after I complained so long about being cold?” Grif said, “I thought I’d have to outright ask you to get in here with me. You have no fucking idea how hot it was underneath those blankets.”
Simmons stood in utter confusion as Grif scoffed down his eggs and toast.
“So…So you didn’t even want those blankets…You just wanted me…To get in bed with you?”
“Took you long enough to figure it out”, Grif mumbled with his mouth full.
Simmons was dumbstruck.
“I never…I never knew you wanted-”
“Look, lets not have this conversation.” Grif said, finally tearing his gaze away from his food to look at Simmons, “You’re awkward enough as it is without having to talk about something like this”.
Simmons continued to stare at him in stunned silence.
Grif yawned. “I don’t suppose you’d like to join me again?”, he offered with a smirk, “Donut sure makes a good breakfast, and you’re just the person I’d like beside me while I sleep it off”.
Although he was not consciously aware of doing so, Simmons found his way back to Grif’s bed, where he once again held Grif by the waist.
“I’m so lucky to have someone so devoted to looking after me.”, Grif said mockingly, “Always going above and beyond the call of duty, huh Simmons?”
“…Fuck you”
“Fuck you, Simmons”, Grif said with a yawn, “Fuck you too”.