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Every now and then, the nights in Valhalla would get chilly enough that sitting outside on patrol wasn’t so unbearable. The days were spent with the two teams arguing amongst themselves, amongst each other, maybe some gunfire was exchanged until both sides ran out of ammunition and all of it in that stifling heat. It wasn’t as bad as Blood Gulch; at least here there were some trees providing shade and a waterfall, though it’s not like they ever stripped down and swam around the pool at the base of it no matter how much Caboose and Donut prodded everyone to. The nights were a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle the days entailed. Everyone was asleep so there was no one to combat, the sun dipped below the horizon long enough that everything cooled down for a brief period of time and everyone had their own reasons for liking the night.
Unfortunately for Grif, he was often stuck with the night shift, forced to keep watch over base for any surprise attacks the blues might attempt. It was nighttime, a time meant for sleeping and everyone else got to enjoy that luxury except him. Arguing with Sarge had proved futile on this.
“But Sarge, think about it. If they’re all asleep then who would attack us? There’s no one else in this valley except us and them.”
“You don’t know that, Grif! You can’t trust those dirty blues.”
“If you’re truly this concerned about them storming our base in the dead middle of night then why aren’t you trusting Simmons or even Lopez with this?”
“Because this way I get to irritate you and still make sure we stay on top. Two birds and I didn’t even have to throw any stones.”
Lucky for Grif, Sarge didn’t see the flaw in his plan: if everyone was asleep, the red team leader included, then who was there to make sure Grif stayed awake too? So most of Grif’s patrols ended up with him either asleep or sprawled on the grass, hands clasped behind his head and helmet beside him. He wasn’t a completely inept soldier, he kept the rest of his armor on not because the blues were plotting or scheming but because sometimes it was cold enough that it was necessary. Nightfall didn’t last very long in Valhalla though. It was long enough that Grif could get some decent shut-eye, long enough that he needed to bring his cigarettes when he couldn’t sleep, long enough for him to wonder why he was here but short enough that the thoughts never lasted. He thought about a lot of things on his patrols. Where Kai was, what she was up to, what Hawaii must be like this time of year, how Caboose managed to stay alive despite himself, what Simmons might be dreaming about that moment. Sometimes his thoughts were deep and put him in a mood, other times they were silly and lighthearted.
Tonight though, Grif was happy to lie back and stare up at the stars. Traveling around the galaxy meant he was afforded some truly unique and breathtaking views, especially at night, and Valhalla was no exception to that. Blood Gulch was such a shithole that he never took notice of anything spectacular but Valhalla had something to it. Maybe it was that damn waterfall that made him miss the ones back home or maybe it was the crisp air, the limbs of the trees swaying slightly in the wind and the stars winking back at him. Whatever it was, tonight was peaceful and Grif was content to bask in it.
He had started to nod off when he felt something nudge at him followed by an amused if not slightly tired sounding, “wake up, asshole.”
Grif grunted and felt a firmer prod.
“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch?”
He peeked an eye open and saw it was Simmons’ foot that felt the need to ruin his sleep tonight. “I can’t believe you think I need to guard base too, man. We all know everyone’s asleep, nothing’s gonna happen.”
Simmons shrugged and wordlessly sat down next to Grif, propping his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.
“Why aren’t you sleeping anyways?”
He tucked his chin into his chest and glanced at the orange soldier, “couldn’t really seem to.”
Grif nodded and allowed a comfortable silence to blanket them. He continued to gaze up at the stars trying to see if he could discern which ones were planets. After a few minutes, he felt Simmons scoot closer to him as the maroon soldier shook off a shiver. He wanted to make sarcastic remarks about how he was sorry that he didn’t have a jacket to offer him or how the metal of his armor plating was honestly probably cold too so sitting closer wasn’t going to help him any. Instead, Grif found himself gently pulling Simmons back so he was lying down next to him.
“Next time you wanna join me, it’d probably be a good idea to come out here in something other than socks, a t-shirt and some boxers, dude.”
Simmons grumbled but said nothing more. A few moments passed in which a slight breeze blew over them and Grif only tightened his hold on Simmons’ waist. Even through the thick cut of steel and the black bodysuit that clung underneath, he could feel the rise and fall of Simmons’ chest. Idly carding his fingers through the cyborg’s hair, he tugged Simmons’ chin up and kissed him languidly. They pulled apart after a few beats and Simmons still had his eyes closed, exhaling slowly.
“What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason, dick?” No malice or ill intent, Grif just liked the wordplay.
The maroon soldier snorted, laying his head back down on Grif’s chest, tracing his finger absently across the grooves and scratches of that bright orange armor. “I’m just saying, you only actually kiss me if you want a handjob.”
Grif scoffed in fake offense. “Not true, sometimes I do it if I wanna fuck you too and you know it.”
Simmons chuckled quietly as Grif pulled him into another kiss. It was slow but confident, Grif’s lips sliding against his own, every now and then Grif would tug at his lower lip and Simmons would respond by nipping back. He teased him playfully eventually allowing him access until one of Grif’s hands found his way from the nape of Simmons’ neck to the top of his head, yanking on his hair so more of his neck was exposed. Grif sucked at the hollow of his throat, bit softly at his Adam’s apple, and mouthed along his jaw until his lips were ghosting against the shell of the maroon soldier’s ear. Grif worried at the lobe and licked along the outer edge randomly placing kisses against the appendage every now and then. He smiled to himself as he nuzzled his nose into Simmons’ hair barely making out the red tones under the dim light of a barely there new moon. He started whispering sweet nothings into his hair in Hawaiian until he realized he wanted Simmons to understand what he was saying.
“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
“I’m so glad I took your goddamn virginity because I want to be your first and your only. You’re fucking mine.”
“I love the way you sometimes lose control of your robotic arm when we have sex. I like how tightly you grip the sheets, my hair, or claw at my back. It’s hot.”
“I could get lost in your eyes, your freckles.”
“When Donut and Sarge are out, I like to fill our empty base with your screams. I never figured you’d be so loud but I can work with that.”
“I’m a nerd too, okay dude, fine, I admit it.”
“I don’t want to kiss all the boys, just you.”
“I’d share Oreos with you if you asked. …Maybe like one but it’s more than anybody else ever got.”
"I like watching you try and fail to explain why you can't walk or run straight the next day."
Alright so not all of them were sweet but whatever, they were in Grif’s own way, it wasn’t his style to be completely and hopelessly sappy.
“I’d do this with you forever if you let me. Sit under the stars making out, argue with you like a little bitch, whatever you want. I want this even when we’re not in the military because fuck that, dude, I’m not gonna do this shit forever like Sarge. I don’t have a boner for fighting a pointless war, just a boner for you.”
Simmons only stared at him in delight through his diatribe until he finished, bursting out laughing once he’d said everything he’d bottled up. It wasn’t every thought he’d had about Simmons over the past however many years but it covered most everything. He and Simmons were close but they’d never talked about their relationship. It was tenuous at best – sometimes he wasn’t sure if they even considered each other friends. The lines had slowly started getting blurred when they’d started messing around with one another but even then, they never defined what they were to each other. For a while it had been enough, they were Grif and Simmons, they didn’t need to talk about whatever it was between them. Even when others would make jokes, they never admitted or denied anything, they just were. It wasn’t until Grif stopped lying to himself that he realized that even when they were fighting, physically or verbally, fake or jokingly, he enjoyed all of it and only with Simmons. He liked how close by they were to one another at all times, how their arguments were almost foreplay at this point, how their personalities complemented one another. Grif was sure he just wanted to be Simmons’ sort-of friend but hey, the sex was nice so why mess up a good thing? Then he fell off a cliff and near-death experiences have a tendency to clear up some things and that’s when he was sure that, well, fuck, he was ready to drop the L-bomb. Maybe he’d work his way up to that eventually but he supposed he also did just kind of propose to Simmons.
“Dexter Grif, are you trying to romance me?”
“Only if it’s working. Otherwise you fell asleep and this is a dream.”
“No, no, it’s working.” Simmons smiled and ran his thumb over the stubble forming across Grif’s jawline. “Well, we’re already doing a pretty damn good job of being together at all times so yeah, I guess we could keep on doing it forever.” He kissed the Hawaiian man once more, both of them enjoying the euphoria of the moment. They didn’t often spend time holding one another; the sex was just a release for both of them, just two dudes helping each other out but neither could deny how passionate their kisses tended to be or how the shower sex would turn into them laughing and soaping one another up under the water once they were finished. There was no reason for them to linger but they always did no matter the activity.
They spent the night curled up together, Simmons griping that Grif’s armor was too bulky and too in the way and Grif remarking that fuck you if you think I’m gonna freeze my balls off. Simmons noticed Grif getting distracted by the sky every now and then and offered to tell him about the different stars and some of the planets circling them, being a nerd paid off sometimes. They stayed like that for hours until they dozed off, Grif’s arm pressing Simmons close and Simmons gripping Grif’s chestplate. Grif wouldn’t mind doing his nightly patrols if it meant more of them ended like this.