His Eyes
folder
+M through R › Red vs. Blue
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,910
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Red vs. Blue
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,910
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Red vs. Blue, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
His Eyes
----firstly, I’d just like y’all to know that I’m a huge fan of Red VS Blue, but I don’t own it. Nope, not a single character. *sigh*, it’s a downer....lol
His Eyes
It was a typical day in Blood Gulch. An even more so typical one in the red base. The warthog, or puma—which ever you thought was better—was lying on it’s side. Donut had decided to take it on a joy ride. He later commented on how it hadn’t been so joyful when he crashed.
“Look, I really didn’t mean to, honest. How about we just stage another attack on the blues and make them surrender again. We can get Lopez back for sure, I know it. Just make Grif do that ‘I’m a girl and wanna kiss the boys’ thing again. They’ll totally buy it!”
“Like fuckin’ hell! Why don’t you be the girly this time. You’re fucking pink, not me!”
“Grif, shut up. We don’t need this right now. *sigh*. How many times have we lost the warthog to y’alls stupidity? How about you Simmons, do you know?” Sarge quizzed Simmons.
“Yessir, it’s been exactly 8 times now that the warthog has been destroyed. 6 of those times were from Grif of course.” Being a kiss-ass was a second nature to him, and jumping down Simmons throat was Grif’s second nature as well.
“Shut up you goddamned fucktard! You know what, I don’t even know why I’m in this argument. I mean, for crying out loud, I wasn’t the one who fucked up the warthog. Donut did it. Not me. Donut!!!”
Grif stormed away, his armored feet leaving deep impressions in the ground. All in all, a normal day. It was just a little more tense Simmons thought. He just wished he hadn’t been so hard on Grif. But then again, he was definitely used to the punishment. Besides, he’d truthfully gone easy on him. He could’ve brought up the time when Grif almost demolished the base while he was ‘sleepwalking’. But he didn’t. Because sometimes, he just wanted Grif to be happy. Sometimes he wanted him to laugh. Sometimes he just wanted....to see his eyes.
Yeah, he knew it sounded really stupid. Not only was it really sappy, but Grif was...well, he was a guy. Jesus, it wasn’t like he was gay or something...
Right?
Simmons thought about that one night both he and Grif were on guard duty. Grif had taken off his helmet to get a little fresh air and feel the cool breeze. For a while Simmons didn’t know, since he had his back to him. They were talking about how crappy the food was, when he had made some stupid joke about the food. It sent Grif into fits of laughter, and he turned to look at him.
And he couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t cause he was choking or something. And his breathing apparatus was working just fine. No, it was Grif’s eyes. They were incredibly beautiful. Impossibly bright hazel eyes that just took his breath away. His right eye had a small tear drop from laughing so hard, and Simmons had to muster all his strength just to not pull him close and gently, oh so gently, wipe that single tear away. Just to not get real close, and feel Grif’s lips against his.
Grif stopped laughing, and looked at Simmons, wandering what the hell was going on. He couldn’t figure out why he was looking at him so hard like that. A part of him told him.....he didn’t want to know.
Simmons watched Grif stomp away, and all he wanted to do was run after him. Tell him he was sorry. Take of f that goddamned helmet, and just lose himself in those eyes.
“Heh heh, god does that soldier ever stop complaining? Whaddya think, Private Girly-In-Pink?”
“For the last time Sarge, it’s lightish red!!! Why can’t any of you get that?!”
Simmons tuned them out, and sighed. He wanted to just go back to playing kiss ass with Sarge, but he couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Couldn’t stop thinking about those gorgeous, amazingly perfect eyes.
—heh, I’ve never done any guy on guy or whatever, so be nice. For the most part, I just wanted some cute fluff between the reds.
His Eyes
It was a typical day in Blood Gulch. An even more so typical one in the red base. The warthog, or puma—which ever you thought was better—was lying on it’s side. Donut had decided to take it on a joy ride. He later commented on how it hadn’t been so joyful when he crashed.
“Look, I really didn’t mean to, honest. How about we just stage another attack on the blues and make them surrender again. We can get Lopez back for sure, I know it. Just make Grif do that ‘I’m a girl and wanna kiss the boys’ thing again. They’ll totally buy it!”
“Like fuckin’ hell! Why don’t you be the girly this time. You’re fucking pink, not me!”
“Grif, shut up. We don’t need this right now. *sigh*. How many times have we lost the warthog to y’alls stupidity? How about you Simmons, do you know?” Sarge quizzed Simmons.
“Yessir, it’s been exactly 8 times now that the warthog has been destroyed. 6 of those times were from Grif of course.” Being a kiss-ass was a second nature to him, and jumping down Simmons throat was Grif’s second nature as well.
“Shut up you goddamned fucktard! You know what, I don’t even know why I’m in this argument. I mean, for crying out loud, I wasn’t the one who fucked up the warthog. Donut did it. Not me. Donut!!!”
Grif stormed away, his armored feet leaving deep impressions in the ground. All in all, a normal day. It was just a little more tense Simmons thought. He just wished he hadn’t been so hard on Grif. But then again, he was definitely used to the punishment. Besides, he’d truthfully gone easy on him. He could’ve brought up the time when Grif almost demolished the base while he was ‘sleepwalking’. But he didn’t. Because sometimes, he just wanted Grif to be happy. Sometimes he wanted him to laugh. Sometimes he just wanted....to see his eyes.
Yeah, he knew it sounded really stupid. Not only was it really sappy, but Grif was...well, he was a guy. Jesus, it wasn’t like he was gay or something...
Right?
Simmons thought about that one night both he and Grif were on guard duty. Grif had taken off his helmet to get a little fresh air and feel the cool breeze. For a while Simmons didn’t know, since he had his back to him. They were talking about how crappy the food was, when he had made some stupid joke about the food. It sent Grif into fits of laughter, and he turned to look at him.
And he couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t cause he was choking or something. And his breathing apparatus was working just fine. No, it was Grif’s eyes. They were incredibly beautiful. Impossibly bright hazel eyes that just took his breath away. His right eye had a small tear drop from laughing so hard, and Simmons had to muster all his strength just to not pull him close and gently, oh so gently, wipe that single tear away. Just to not get real close, and feel Grif’s lips against his.
Grif stopped laughing, and looked at Simmons, wandering what the hell was going on. He couldn’t figure out why he was looking at him so hard like that. A part of him told him.....he didn’t want to know.
Simmons watched Grif stomp away, and all he wanted to do was run after him. Tell him he was sorry. Take of f that goddamned helmet, and just lose himself in those eyes.
“Heh heh, god does that soldier ever stop complaining? Whaddya think, Private Girly-In-Pink?”
“For the last time Sarge, it’s lightish red!!! Why can’t any of you get that?!”
Simmons tuned them out, and sighed. He wanted to just go back to playing kiss ass with Sarge, but he couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Couldn’t stop thinking about those gorgeous, amazingly perfect eyes.
—heh, I’ve never done any guy on guy or whatever, so be nice. For the most part, I just wanted some cute fluff between the reds.