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Simmons listened to the splash of water hitting the tiled floor as he ran his hands through his hair underneath the shower head. The water was quickly cooling - the base only had a limited amount of warm water - and he washed the last of the shampoo out of his hair before turning off the water.
When he first enlisted in the military, Simmons learned real quick how to take fast yet efficient showers. He usually took fast showers anyway, since he didn’t like to look at his own naked body for too long, but even he liked to occasionally take his time and relax in the warm water. But, unfortunately, the privilege of relaxation wasn’t an option in Blood Gulch.
Simmons grabbed his towel that was draped over the stall door and began drying off. His clean clothes were underneath the towel, safe from any water that may have sprayed that way. He also didn’t enjoy changing in front of other people, and while nobody else was in the shower room at the moment, it was better to be safe than sorry. The last thing he needed was Donut walking in on him and making a vaguely inappropriate comment, or Grif making fun of him or something.
Once he was dry enough, Simmons threw his now damp towel over the side of the stall and got to work putting on his clothes. Boxers, binder, shorts, socks- why did he bring socks? They were going to get all wet if he put them on now. Now he’d have to carry them back to his room.
Before Simmons could mentally beat himself up over socks, the door to the shower room swung open and his train of thought was lost. He listened close, and the heavy thumping of bare feet against the floor let Simmons know it was Grif. Great. Hopefully he wouldn’t give him too hard of a time.
Letting out a soft exhale, Simmons finished getting dressed and took his towel and dirty clothes (and socks) down from the stall and unlocked the door. He hadn’t even heard Grif begin to undress, and he wasn’t sure what he had expected to see, but he walked out of the stall just as Grif had taken his shirt off, and…
Grif was wearing a binder.
The orange soldier turned around in surprise as he heard Simmons exit the stall, clearly embarrassed and even a little self-conscious, but he tried not to show it. “Oh, uh, ‘sup Simmons?”
“Holy shit.” Simmons didn’t know what to do, or say. It was awkward and he knows Grif probably didn’t want it to happen like this, but Simmons couldn’t just ignore it. He thought he was the only one. “You’re trans?”
Now Grif definitely looked uncomfortable, and Simmons realized that probably wasn’t the right thing to say. Grif held his shirt up to his chest with a reddening face and his eyes looked anywhere but at Simmons. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”
“No!” Simmons wildly shook his head, and really all he wanted to do was run away and hide in his room. But he couldn’t do that now. “I mean, it’s just that, um,” His hands trembled as Grif gave him a dirty look. Christ. He threw his dirty clothes onto the floor and took off his own shirt. “I am too. See?”
Grif’s eyes widened in realization and he visibly relaxed as a small grin spread on his face. “Huh. Well shit.” He looked at Simmons, expecting him to say something else, and he frowned when they stared at each other in silence. “Is that all?”
“What?”
“Do you uh, have anything else to say to me or are you just gonna stand there shirtless?” Grif let his shirt fall to the floor and started taking off his pants.
Simmons felt his face heat up as his teammate continued to undress in front of him. He scrambled to put his own shirt back on, turned away so he didn’t have to look at Grif. “N-No, just, I thought maybe you would have more to say.”
Grif scoffed, but he sounded amused. “What else is there to say? We’re both trans. That’s it.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Simmons leaned down to pick his clothes up off the floor. He really didn’t know what he had expected to happen. Movies and TV always showed coming out as a big thing, but… Maybe it really didn’t matter all that much. Fuck it, they weren’t even on Earth anymore.
Still, Simmons felt bad, and as he walked toward the door he saw that Grif hadn’t changed out of his undergarments yet. “Um. Sorry it had to happen this way. I’m sure you would’ve wanted to tell me yourself.”
But Grif just shrugged, looking as careless as he always did. “Whatever. It’s just you.”
Simmons stopped. “Just me? What does that mean?”
There was a beat of silence, as if Grif was truly thinking about it. His back was turned to Simmons and he stayed that way as he waved Simmons off. “Nothing. Now get out or I’ll tell Donut you watched me shower.”
It was a joke, he knew, but the thought made Simmons blush anyway. He said goodbye and left the showers, heart thumping in his chest after that encounter. It wasn’t a big deal, generally speaking, but Simmons was giddy. It wasn’t everyday he met someone else who was like him, even if he and Grif weren’t anything alike in all other aspects. Sometimes he couldn’t stand the lazy asshole, but maybe this would bring them closer. Or maybe he was just a fool.