Semantics III
Grif woke up, still curled around Simmons. He gave a deep, draw-out hum as he stretched. It had been a long time since he'd done anything as wonderful as they had. When he had been younger he had fooled around with a guy once, both more curious than anything. But Simmons was definitely different. He wasn't just a curiosity. There was real feeling there. It was the kind of thing that would have made Grif nervous if not for how right it felt.
Simmons woke to the sensation of being surrounded by warmth. And the oddest feeling that something had happened that he should be remembering. He curled his toes and hummed a little, feeling more relaxed than he had... ever. He felt as if great heavy chains had been lifted off him. He felt as if he could float above the covers. He felt... something gently caressing down his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Grif gazing softly down at him, a thoughtful look on his face.
And suddenly the events of last night crashed in around him in stunning, brilliant technicolored panic. He tried to push it back down but it insisted on rising to his cheeks, which blushed full crimson.
Grif smiled warmly and stopped his hand against Simmons's face. "Hey," he hummed.
Simmons gave an uncertain smile. "Hey," he breathed in reply.
"How're you doin?"
He thought about it for a moment before he replied. "I'm... good," he said. And he meant it. Mostly. He took a deep breath. "Grif?"
Grif looked at him, hearing the wavered question in his voice. "Yeah?"
"We're good, right?"
Grif gave a little hum and nodded.
"You're not mad or freaked or anything?"
He shook his head, feeling as if he should be asking Simmons that.
"Cause, I mean, if you want to just forget about last night-" Simmons began, but Grif silenced him with a kiss and Simmons felt his chest leap and spin.
"I don't want to forget," Grif breathed when their lips parted. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."
Simmons felt relief flow through him. Grif didn't hate him, wasn't freaked out, wasn't going to make him go back to sleeping alone. "Grif?"
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Grif smiled. "I love you, too, buddy," he hummed. For a moment there, he had been worried that Simmons wanted to forget. As little vulnerability as Grif ever liked to have, that would have crushed him. It was good to know that they hadn't turned entirely awkward.
He leaned back down and just kissed Simmons tenderly, solidifying the experience they had had last night. He wanted to make sure that it would not be brushed off as one of those 'in the moment' things. Many a stupid thing was done 'in the moment'. Many a regretted action. But Grif didn't regret anything and he didn't want to start now.
Neither really wanted to get out of bed. Well, Grif never wanted to get out of bed, but even Simmons felt himself wishing he could just lay here all day. He would have, too, if not for-
"SIMMONS!"
The voice made their blood run cold. No, not the voice, the proximity. Simmons yelped and pushed Grif off of him. Grif landed on the floor with a thud as Simmons snatched the blanket back and pulled it up to cover the stain on the front of his boxers. Grif scrambled across the room to his own bed. Just in time, too. The door opened and Sarge came in. "Simmons! Good to see you up." His eyes glanced to the other side. "Dirt-bag. Still in bed. Just as I expected."
"Good morning, Sir!" Simmons chirped. "What can we do for you?"
"I'm-a gonna go with Lopez to test the upgrades we've been makin' to the warthog. That means you're in charge till I get back."
"Yes, Sir!" Simmons said, giving a crisp salute. "Thank you, Sir!"
"It's only acting command, so don't worry about your record reflecting poorly on ya should Grif end up killed before I get back. Acceptable losses and such."
"Gee, thanks, Sir," Grif grumbled.
"Shut it, Private."
"Should I pack you a lunch, Sir?" Simmons offered.
"No thanks. Cupcake did that for me already. Alright well I can't stay here lolly-gaggin around. I need to get goin'! We'll be back before dark." Sarge left the room.
"It never gets dark here!" Grif cried.
"Well, guess it's just me and you today, Grif," Simmons pointed out.
"And Donut," Grif corrected.
"I don't recall inviting Donut in," Simmons said, a little grin creeping onto his lips.
Grif raised an eyebrow and gave a little smirk. "Oh? And just what did you have in mind then?"
Simmons shrugged. He had lots of things in mind, but it seemed weird to actually say any of them.
"Well..." Grif said, since Simmons wasn't offering an idea, "we could shower and get cleaned up. Then maybe..." He stood up and slipped his arms around Simmons's waist. "Come back here?"
"That sounds good." Simmons gave a little sigh. "Let's definitely do that."
"I think that's an order I could follow, Sir."
They slipped into the bathroom, ensuring Donut was nowhere to be found. Simmons started up the water as Grif pushed his boxers down, then hooked his fingers under Simmons's as well. Simmons closed his eyes and gave a little sigh as Grif slid them to the floor. Pushing him under the water, he ran his hand over and around Simmons's dick, sliding further to massage his balls as the warm water spilled over their bodies.
He gasped at the first skin to skin touch they had shared; that is, the first skin contact that he had felt on his cock. He didn't even try to think about what Grif was doing, it just felt so good and he didn't want him to ever stop. He leaned forward into Grif's arms and just let himself feel what the other was doing.
Despite everything he had previously held true about his sexuality, he wanted this man. In fact, he had to admit he had found Grif just a little bit sexy ever since the Sidewinder incident. Grif pushed him up against the wall of the shower and began to kiss his neck. Simmons clung to him, eyes tight shut and mouth hanging open, as Grif stroked him.
Grif hadn't intended on rubbing Simmons off, but the reactions he was being was rewarded with were spurring him on. Grif was loving how Simmons responded to every little movement, every little twist and flick of his fingers. He was loving how Simmons's fingers were biting into his shoulders, how he was panting out his name.
He squeezed a little conditioner into the mix and Simmons gasped at the extra lubrication it caused, thrusting forward firmly into his hand.
Grif nibbled at his ear. "You like that?" he breathed.
"Oh god, Grif, don't stop! Don't stop," he groaned.
Grif was torn between wanting to finish him as quickly as possible so he could drag him back to bed and get a little himself, or dragging this out as long as he could and soaking in the little delights he was getting at getting Simmons off like this.
Nature, ultimately, took control. "Grif... Grif... Grif Grif GrifGrifGrifGrifGrifGrifffff."
Grif gently milked the pulsing cock for every little bit, finding it almost funny how it seemed so reasonable to be doing this. After all, he was a guy, masturbation was like.. practice on how to get a guy off! And Grif had had lots of practice.
Simmons felt his legs go weak, and Grif immediately caught him in his arms, holding him close to his chest and letting the water run over them, washing the evidence down the drain.
Simmons's fingers were still curling against Grif's skin, though more in gentle waves instead of practically clawing at him. Grif waited until it felt like Simmons had regained some of his strength, then gently eased him up. "S'pose we should, y'know, actually get cleaned up," he chuckled, and Simmons gave a shy grin.
"Yeah," he agreed, leaning back against the wall again. "I suppose we had better." He looked down at Grif's untended erection, rather pleased that he was responsible for putting it there. He was shocked, therefore, when Grif gently removed his hand as he went to return the favor he had just received.
"Not yet," Grif murmured, lacing their fingers together.
"Why not?" Simmons asked, feeling suddenly very self-conscious.
Grif shrugged, then brushed his other hand across Simmons's face to ease away the worry that he saw appear. "I want to be back in bed with you," he breathed into the other's ear.
They quickly cleaned up. As they left the bathroom, Simmons felt light-headed. He felt excited. He felt... confused. But, men showered together all the time. It didn't make them gay. It's not as if they'd actually had sex. Right?