#simmons;

[nerdkingbaby]

"Give me a hand." - Grif and Simmons. prompt - for privatedicksimmons 452 words

For the past 20 minutes, all Grif had heard were grunts and sighs from the cyborg across the room, mixed in with the soft whirring of his body parts.

He looked up, an eyebrow quirked, glancing to watch Simmons.

His position didn't look too comfortable, an arm bent to reach around to his back, his other arm over his shoulder, grasping at the mechanical panels splayed across where flesh should be.

For the past 20 minutes, Simmons had been attempting to push a panel into place, where one of the latches had come loose. Why Sarge chose latches of all things to place on his back, they will never know.

Of course, Grif could help him- but that wasn't his style. He knew he could juice something out of this, and spent a majority of the 20 minutes thinking about the ways he could tease Simmons over this.

Another sigh, the exhale shuddering over Simmons' body as he raised his arms above his head, stretching. There were small mumbles coming from his lips, probably complaints about his flesh arm feeling stiff. Grif never caught what he had to say.

Carefully setting down his food, Grif cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat, catching Simmons' attention.

"You seem to be struggling there," He started, but was quickly cut off by Simmons' snapping at him.

"Yeah--no shit. You try reach around your back! It's hard as hell--god dammit," Simmons raked his flesh hand down his face, arching his back with an audible -pop-.

Grif rolled his eyes, his lip raising, "Ever thought of asking for some help? Cus- y'know, shit's hard."

All he got in return from the cyborg was a grunt, leaving some space between what he had to say next, "Yeah, because you'd be so enthusiastic to get off your fat ass and help someone."

"Hey--!" Grif laughed, attempting to stiffle it, "I might just- depending on how I'm asked..."

Simmons turned where he sat, repositioning himself to glare at Grif with a look of disbelief, "If you're--insinuating what I think you are, then fuck off."

Letting out an overdramatic sound of forced shock, Grif scooted forward in his seat, "What? Me? Never! I'm doing this aaaaall in the good of my heart, of course."

Simmons could only scoff, the sarcasm dripping off of Grif's words like honey on a stick, "Just--shut up and give me a hand, would you?"

Slowly standing up from his seat to shuffle over to where Simmons was sat, Grif quirked an eyebrow again, looking down to where Simmons was sat, "Only if you promise not to bother me about my eating habits for a week-"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa--hey, no promises."

Of course.

[nerdkingbaby]

camping au start 389 words

     Summer vacations for Simmons were always uneventful, the family he came from weren't one for vacations, so usually Simmons spent his summers studying.

     Which is why Richard Simmons, age 18- fresh out of high school, found himself very out of place, currently seated beside his classmate Donut in their 'friend's' van, preparing for a camping trip.

     He wasn't quite sure when the last time Donut shut his mouth was, he had been blabbering on for hours end about how much fun they're going to have! Or something like that, Simmons had just resigned to burying his nose in his book, only looking up occasionally when a door was shut.

     There was a loud grumbling behind him, from the back of the van, as someone's arm reached over the seats, a tired voice requesting the snack bag- Ah. Grif, of course. How could Simmons forget?- Grif was coming along. Obnoxious, disgusting, gross Grif, who could probably eat their entire food supply in under 5 minutes.

     Simmons simply slid back in his seat, bringing his feet up and laying his book out across his thighs, but it wasn't long until he was bothered- the snack bag hitting his head as Grif tried to pull it into the back quickly broke Simmons' concentration, causing him to yell and swat at the bag.

     “Jesus—fucking, christ, calm down, kiss-ass!” Grif started, his head popping up from behind the seats as he motioned to the bag with his free hand, “Do you even know what's in this bag? Like, the most valuable shit on this trip- probably more valuable than your life.”

     Simmons sighed, murmuring a small “Shut it, fatass.” as he returned to reading, relaxing in his seat as Sarge and Lopez finally rested in their seats in the front. Lopez was another guy from his class- only ever spoke Spanish, no one really understands what he's saying. And Sarge...well, that was a thought for another day.

     As Sarge called out to buckle up, Simmons saw Donut quickly adjust how he was sitting before buckling his seat belt. A sigh could be heard behind him as Grif lay on the hard casing of the van, munching away quite happily at the snacks. Simmons scooted up on his seat, stretching before buckling his own seatbelt.

             This was going to be a long summer vacation.

[nerdkingbaby]

royal au doubts 227 words.

     There were always doubts in the mind of Frank Dufresne, ones particularily surrounding the ever-feared Overlord.

     Doubts that came to him, moments after having the Overlord collapse beside him in bed, doubts about everything they had going on.

     He had grown up beside the Overlord, his parents having been Doctors in the palace before him.

     They grew up together, and Dufresne watched the child he once knew as Richard Simmons become the Overlord he is today. Dufresne knew the man that came before the Overlord shadowed over him, and they are nothing alike.

     Dufresne doubts that the man he once knew is no longer there--no, that the man he once knew has closed himself off, using the name and persona of the ever-feared Overlord to hide himself.

     Dufresne doubts the Overlord sees what they have as he sees it.

     They're not friends. But they're not quite lovers.

     The neutral space between, filled with littered soft kisses, filled with gentle touches and light whispers, yet no 'I love you's, yet no words of promise, had been filled by them.

     Dufresne doubts he can save the Overlord from himself.

     But Dufresne tries his best to push the doubts out of his mind, relishing in the attention, the littered soft kisses, the gentle touches, light whispers he recieves from the Overlord.

     Because for the time being,                                              This is them.

[nerdkingbaby]

royal au moments 180 words.

    There were moments that the King and Overlord never talked about, moments in which the two of them would be stripped bare, sitting across from each other, their flaws out for the other to see.

    It was moments like these that the two of them quite treasured, the times Simmons would allow his guard to drop for an hour, the times Grif's grin was something more genuine than sarcastic. These were the times that they could get to know each other.

    Swapping the smallest of lingering touches, quiet whispers and bickers filling the room that they sat in. The Overlord's usual stern look softening, the half-lidded look raising with a slight part of the lips.

    Even still, Grif had the hardest time reading Simmons. There was always a wall. A wall splitting them from truly opening to each other. A wall hand built, precise to the tiniest pebble, by the Overlord himself. It never sat well with Grif.

    There were moments, standing at the entrance of the Overlord's kingdom, axe in hand--                  That Grif wondered if the axe was enough.

[nerdkingbaby]

In which Simmons and Grif go to the beach and Simmons wears one of these. Highschool au.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Eh-?" Was all Grif got in response before quick hands attempted to cover what was, possibly, one of the funniest sights Grif had seen in his entire life with a towel.

Okay, being nervous to show a lot of skin is one thing, but wearing an almost full body swimsuit to the beach? That's a totally whole other thing. What was Simmons thinking?

It was obvious Grif was holding back an almighty laugh, his lips threatening to give way from where he was forcing his mouth shut to keep it back. He had finally convinced Simmons to come to the beach with him, he wasn't going to ruin it.

Simmons had bowed his head in attempt to hide the blush creeping up his face, not being very successful with it. He had straightened up, clutching the towel close to his body.

"I-it's all I had, fatass!" He huffed, his voice whiney from where he was hiding his embarrassment. Simmons took the towel away from his body and set it up beside Grif's, carefully plopping down to sit beside him.

"Pff-I didn't say anythin', dude.", Grif examined Simmons all he could, taking in how unbelievably pale the taller boy's legs and arms were. He really didn't get out much, did he?

Simmons scoffed, dragging over a bag and digging through it before pulling out some sunscreen, "You were thinking it, jackass...", It took Simmons a good minute before he managed to pop the top off of the tube of sunscreen, squeezing a good dollop out into his palm and lathering it on the minimal amount of skin he was showing.

Now it was Grif's turn to scoff, what's a little bit of burning going to do to the guy? Must he treat everything this way? Jesus.

Grif lay back, propping himself up on his elbows. He reached over Simmons' lap and reached into the bag, pulling out a pair of sunshades and putting them on, "We're here to relax. Ever heard of the concept?"

In response, Simmons turned his head, not wanting to respond to any mockery that Grif had prepared to throw his way.

He then felt pudgy hands grab onto the front of his swimsuit, snapping his attention back to Grif, who was pulling him down.

"God, you're such a nerd. Who the fuck even wears these anymore?"

Before Simmons had the chance to respond, Grif pulled him a little closer and pressed a small kiss to his lips. It being only small because..well, Grif's shades and Simmons' glasses collided, causing for it to be quite uncomfortable.

"You taste like sunscreen. Gross."

[nerdkingbaby]

"I put on my robe and wizard hat."

"Grif! Take this seriously!"

"What?" The orange soldier questioned, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he began to roll the dice, "I’m completely serious."

Simmons’ face scrunched up, not at all appreciating how ridiculous Grif was treating their game of Dungeons & Dragons. This was a serious game. Completely serious. They even got Donut to agree to be the dungeon master!

As they waited for the dice to stop spinning, the result that was shown caused Simmons’ face to go the same shade as the maroon shirt he was wearing. A natural 20.

"A fucking perfect 20? Again?!" He yelped, snapping in Grif’s general direction.

The grin was still there, mocking Simmons, “What can I say? The game really wants me to put on my robe and wizard hat.”

"Yeah, for the last 5 god damn turns, you fuck! At this point, you’ll be swimming in them!"

Simmons and Grif turned their attention to their dungeon master of choice, Donut. Simmons in hope that he’d put an end to Grif’s bullshit shenanigans, and Grif with the expectations that Donut would go along with it.

[nerdkingbaby]

Click. click. click.

The annoying sounds of a mechanical pencil filled the room- the clicking seeming to never end. Those things were supposed to run out of lead, right? This particular one seemed to have an unlimited supply- but of course, Simmons knew that wasn’t possible. If it was, he’d be set for life.

But at the current moment, there was nothing that he hated more than the mechanical pencil that was in Grif’s hand, the end being clicked to all hell.

The sound shot through Simmons’ ears, causing him to grunt dis-pleasingly every few moments, hoping Grif would get the hint to fucking stop. He never seemed to, however, and Simmons pulled his gaze up from his homework to glare at the male that sat on the bed just across the room from him.

"Can you stop that?!" He hissed through his teeth, squinting at Grif, which only caused the boy to scoff in return.

With getting no proper response, Simmons’ anger only heightened, balling his hands into fists and creasing the paper under his hands. “Look- either stop, or do your fucking homework! I won’t do it for you if you keep at this!”

Grif mulled over the thought for a moment, if anything just to humour Simmons, “Mmh, nah.” he yawned, lazy eyes looking over to the red head.

And still with that fucking clicking—-

Simmons scrunched his face up, grabbing a sheet of tossed away paper, then scrunched it up into a ball and threw it at Grif. “Don’t ‘nah’ me!” He huffed out, clearly offended, “I’m the one that’s getting you through this school. At least do something in return!”

Grif, in response, propped himself to sit up, wiping crumbs off of himself and placing the mechanical pencil he had been holding down to the side. He slid off the bed to sit on the floor, slowly scooting over to where Simmons was situated.

"Dude, ‘s eleven at night, stay up any longer doing this ‘n’ we’ll be late in the morning."

Grif had lazily started putting together excuses, using the time explaining to put a hand on Simmons arm and try to tug him towards the bed.

Simmons only tried to pull away from Grif, clutching the books and paper closer to his body. “It’s your fault for not doing it yourself! I would’ve been able to finish hours ago if you did your own god damn work!”

Grif was very close to leaning against Simmons and just falling asleep right there and then, but he knew if he did, Simmons would overwork himself and be tired in the morning- which caused for a cranky Simmons.

A cranky Simmons usually meant Grif suffered for it.

He reached a hand out, placing his pudgy fingers on the cover of one of the books and closing it over. He then reached to the book that Simmons was clutching to his chest, pulling it away from him, ignoring the little fight that Simmons put up against it.

Closing the second book, he leaned towards Simmons, nuzzling against his side and pulling him closer to the bed again.

With a sigh of defeat, Simmons placed the work he had been working on down on the floor.

"…Fucking—fine."