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Grif peeked slowly around the corner of the cave under the red and blue's box canyon, checking for bats as usual. Simmons appeared from the gloom behind Grif and casually walked right past him into the cave without a second glance in. He jumped and hastened after him, sticking as close to Simmons as he could.
Simmons, used to this, but still annoyed by it, let out a derisive snort. "God, Grif, you’re such a baby. Bats are harmless." He moaned, not slowing his pace.
"I- I’m not afraid of bats," Grif lied squeakily. "They just, uh, they’re always flying in my face and I don’t want them to bite it off."
Simmons turned around quickly, rounding on the orange-clad man.
"First of all, bats don’t fly in people’s faces. They use echolocation, so they know perfectly well where they’re flying.
"And secondly, bats eat insects or fruit, so they wouldn’t be interested in your sugared hide." He spat, poking his finger into Grif’s chest, trying to ignore the tingly sensation he got as he did so.
"Okay fine, I just don’t like bats." Grif mumbled, crossing his arms and looking down at the damp cave floor.
"I’m glad you finally admitted it." Simmons huffed, turning on his heel and marching in the direction they were heading.
"Asshole." Grif murmured, but he still stuck close to Simmons as they trudged on.
A mere 4 seconds later, the soft flap of rapidly beating wings and squeaking could be heard swooping over their heads.
"ACK! HELP! THEY’RE GONNA KILL ME! I’M TOO GOOD-LOOKING TO DIE!" Grif screeched, waving his arms and rushing forward the two small steps between himself and Simmons and hugging his waist tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.
"Shut up, Grif! They’re not gonna fucking touch you!" Simmons snapped, glaring down at the frightened man.
"NO! THEY WANNA FUCKING RIP MY FACE OFF AND BEAT ME TO DEATH WITH IT!"
"GRIF!"
"OH GOD, HELP! NO—!"
"THEY’RE GONE, YOU ASSHOLE." Simmons shouted over Grif’s insistent yelling.
"DEAR GOD- what? They are?" Grif lifted up his head, squinting his eyes and searching the air above their heads desperately.
"Yes! Now get the fuck off me!"
"Oh. Sorry." Grif said, realizing he was still crushing Simmon’s frail figure with his strong grip. The deep blush on his dark skin was apparent even in the dim light of the cave.
"It’s fine." Simmons squeaked, quickly turning around to avoid eye contact and hide his own red cheeks.
"You should have punched me in the face." Grif said as they continued their walk again.
"Why the fuck would I punch you in the face?"
"Because I was being annoying, obviously. And because I hugged you." Grif said, his voice cracking on "hugged".
"Seriously, it doesn’t fucking matter." Simmons said, sighing deeply.
"God, fine."
They walked in silence for a little bit, not caring to share the thoughts they harbored.
"Hey, so where are we going?" Simmons asked, stopping to look around.
"I don’t know, you were the one who was leading."
"Why are we here, anyway?"
"I guess you could ask that. That's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it? Why ARE we here? Are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God... watching everything? Y'know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know man, but it keeps me up at night."
Simmons just stared at him blankly, eyes narrowed, and without a word turned around to walk back the direction they came.
"I was trying to make a fucking joke!" Grif yelled after him.
"Shut up." Simmons replied, disappearing into the gloom.
"Hey, asshole, get back here!"
"You better hurry up, Grif, I think I hear ba~ats!" Simmons called back in a sing-songy voice.
Grif looked around hurriedly, quickly speeding up to Simmons.
"I knew that would work."
"I hate you."