Attack and Retaliation

^*^ Indicate happenings at red base.
Nothing indicates blue base.
(!) Indicates canyon, somewhere outside of both bases.

Chapter I
^*^ Sometimes, the only thing to do was to stare up at the ever-blue sky and curse the lack of clouds. Today was one of those days.
And so Grif did just that. After all, do you know how hard it is to fall asleep in glare? He leaned back against the base.
Fucking Sarge giving him fucking “night” duty. Night, Grif’s ass. How anyone could consider noon-high sun to be night was beyond him.
Who was walking towards him? Oh great- Donut. Just fucking great. This would make everything so much better. Grif pointedly looked the other way.
“New orders from Sarge!” Donut said happily.
Grif merely glared, even if Donut couldn’t see it through his helmet.
Donut went on. “You’re on patrol. I’m on watch!”
Fuck.
Grif said. “I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.” He didn’t see any reason why Sarge would assign him to anything less boring than watch. Ah, hell, he probably just wanted him away from the base.
Of course… if it was a one man patrol, Grif could see a nap on the horizon.
So Grif wordlessly walked from the base. The caves would work, he thought.

_______

Over at blue base, Caboose sat on top of the base, legs dangling over the side. He held his helmet in his lap, looking out towards red base.
“Church!” he called.
Inside the base, Church gritted his teeth. “What, rookie?”
“I think you should possibly come look, up here.”
Church reluctantly left behind a warm bed, pissed at being disturbed at two in the fucking morning. Tucker and Sister were undoubtedly up now, and Church really didn’t want to deal with any of their shit.
“What is so important-“
“I’m sorry I woke you up, Church.” Caboose said regretfully. “But you told me to tell you if I saw a red.”
Church asked sharply. “Attacking?”
“The orange one went into the caves.” Caboose was pleased with himself.
Church was already heading back to his room to slip into his armor. Caboose followed him, as silent as he could be in armor. Church walked past him on his way out.

_______

(!) Grif lay back, helmet at his side. He was tempted to remove more for comfort, but he was really too close to blue base for that sort of thing. His gun was within reach, as he constantly thought he heard footsteps. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine that he was somewhere else- anywhere else. Not in a miserable canyon with a bunch of assholes. How was he supposed to sleep and be on alert at the same time, anyhow? He supposed he would just have to give up being alert.
_______

Church saw the orange armor and stopped. He was…sleeping? This was gonna be fun.
_______

Grif was having trouble breathing. His eyes flew open to see the cobalt man over him, gun at Grif’s throat. Grif reached up, wildly trying to push Church from him.
“Give me one reason.” Church snarled. “One reason why I shouldn’t kill you here. I doubt anyone would notice.”
They hurt, Church’s words- because they were true.
“No one would care.” Grif told him breathlessly. “No one would give a flying fuck.”
Church spat. “Tell me one thing before you go. Was it your idea to fucking put Andy in the ship? You seemed to like it well enough.”
Grif weakly shook his head. “Sar-“ But he couldn’t speak anymore.
Grif’s arms dropped to his sides. He glared at Church even as the latter removed pressure. Grif gratefully took in gulps of air.
But he had to ask. “Why don’t you just kill me right now? No one will come after you for it.”
Church growled. “I’m tempted.”
“Churchsir?”
Caboose stumbled into the cave. “Are we having another sleepover?”
Church stared at the helmetless rookie. “Caboose, get back to base.”
Caboose pouted. “Tucker told me-“
“What have I told you about listening to Tucker?”
“Um…don’t…do it?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Grif tried again to push away Church’s rifle. Church turned his attention back to him. Grif defiantly continued.
“I’m warning you, red.”
“Do me a favor.” Grif said sarcastically. “After you kill me, give Donut my armor. He might want it.”
Church sighed. “I’m not gonna fucking kill you.”
Grif looked at Caboose. The blue rookie was delicately chewing on his bottom lip.
“Mind letting me up?” He asked quickly.
Church hastily took Grif’s gun from him. He trained it on Grif and stepped back. Grif sat up, reaching for his helmet, but Church had that, too.
“Follow Caboose to the base.” Church said gruffly.
Grif held out one hand for his helmet. He hated letting his enemies see his face, but Church shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He grumbled but did as he was told and followed Caboose. Church walked behind him, sniper rifle on his back, the barrel of Grif’s gun pressed against Grif’s back. Caboose, seemingly oblivious, bounced along the path.

_______

^*^ Donut blinked sleepily. He had watched Grif walk into the caves- where was he now? The pink private turned as Sarge approached.
“Sir, I haven’t seen Grif in a while…”
“Son, he’ll be off sleeping.” Sarge muttered.
Donut frowned beneath his helmet. “Sir, I also saw the blues outside their base.”
“Those dirty blues! Donut, this is the sort of thing you report!”
Sarge looked towards the blue base. Donut stood silently, waiting for orders.
“We’ll go over in the morning, see what they’re scheming.” Sarge huffed.
Donut nodded, but he was still worried. Even Grif had to show his face once and a while, right?

_______

Church slammed the door shut and locked it. He stared down at Grif, a slight smirk on his face.
“So, are you going to be a good son of a bitch, or do I have to tie you up?” Church mocked.
Grif eyed the rope in Church’s hand. He shrugged and shakily stood. Church flopped onto the bed- his bed.
“I expect you won’t destroy my room?”
Grif looked around. “Interesting. Who knew prisoners were kept in comfort?” he muttered.
“Cool it, asshole.” Church spat. “We have the basement.”
The younger man stood awkwardly in the corner opposite the bed. He slid to the ground nervously. When a joyful knock came at the door, Church half-heartedly moaned softly, but answered it. Caboose darted in past Church, heading straight for the bed. Grif noted his lack of armor.
“Hello.” Caboose said brightly.
Church relocked the door before looking at Grif. “Give me your armor.”
Grif glared. “I’ll keep it, thanks.” It would be one on one… caboose hardly counted at this point. Armor less and probably too stupid to realize Grif was attacking Church.
Caboose said. “You can’t sleep in it.” So innocently that Grif almost removed it.
“Quickly.” Church tapped his rifle.
Grif slowly slipped off the chest plate. He miserably handed his armor to Church, who pushed it beneath the bed.
Church slipped off his own helmet. Grif stared.
The blue was, well, beautiful in an I’m-a-sexy-asshole sort of way. He reached up, mindlessly flicking black hair away from his blue eyes as he set his helmet on the nightstand.
Caboose slowly helped Church remove the remainder of his armor. They tucked it beside Grif’s.
Church looked warningly at Grif as he carefully placed their guns behind his armor. “If we hear anything coming from you, your body is going in the basement with a few extra holes included.”
Grif nodded miserably. All he had wanted was a fucking nap in the caves. Not a goddamn sleepover at blue base.
Church lay by the wall, waiting as caboose crawled in beside him. The older man smirked as the lights automatically dimmed. He moved closer to Caboose, slowly sliding his finger beneath Caboose’s black under armor.
“Church?” he asked somewhat nervously.
“Rookie, calm down or I will personally kick your ass.”
Caboose smiled at him. “Yes, Churchsir.”
Grif leaned back against the wall. There was no way he wanted to listen to this. For the first time ever, he wanted to hear Sarge yelling at him.

_______

^*^ Ironically enough, Sarge was wishing for the exact same thing. He sat at the red base’s kitchen table, cleaning his shotgun. The base was quiet- Simmons and Donut were asleep. He couldn’t sleep. Not now.
He held up the shotgun. Tomorrow, well in a few hours really, he’d go over there and get his private back.

_______


Caboose moaned loudly. He shook with pleasure, hot heat engulfing his entire being. Church smiled, tenderly kissing the larger male as he slid out of his body. He pushed back in, Caboose gripping his shoulders with such force nails dug into Church’s flesh. Church ignored the pain. The bed hit the wall with a metallic clang as Church’s movements began to go faster.
Grif cringed, trying to cover his ears. At first, it wasn’t so bad. Caboose had muffled his noises, but not anymore. The noise wasn’t even the problem anymore.
Grif was hard.
He sure as hell didn’t want it from listening to his enemies doing it. He didn’t want it here, in the enemy base, in the blue C.O.’s own fucking room.
Grif heard as Church released, a partially muffled yell escaping his lips. Caboose was right after him.
Church slid from the private, flopping beside him. He smirked smugly as he listened to Grif’s labored breathing from the floor. He stood shakily and made his way to the prisoner.
Grif was surprised by the hand landing on his shoulder. He jumped, scuttling farther into the corner. Church knelt beside him , reaching around Grif, pressing a hand against his groin.
“Liked that, did you?” Church smirked.
“Asshole.”
Church slowly and steadily rubbed the orange man. “I bet you wish you were in Caboose’s place, feeling me sliding inside of you…”
Grif shuddered. “Stop it, you fucking bluetard…”
Caboose asked sleepily. “Church, what…?”
“Shhh. I’ll be right there.” Church said soothingly.
Grif growled. “Looks like your fuckbuddy is worried.”
Church squeezed roughly. “Don’t talk about Caboose like that, red!”
“Church?”
“I’m coming, Caboose.”
Grif snickered.
“Shut the fuck up.” Church snapped.
“Maybe you should fill it with something.” Grif said sarcastically.
“Mmmm.. maybe.”
Grif paled. “No, no, no…”
“No, I’m liking this idea.” Church murmured. “Sit up, Grif.”
“No.”
“Caboose? I’ll be right back.”
“Church?”
“It’s okay. I’m just taking Grif downstairs.”
Grif flinched. “No- Church, no.” he shivered. “Fuck.”
Church stood patiently. Grif sat up, revulsion covering his face.
“Church? Are you back?”
“Yes, Caboose.”
Grif blinked. “Any way I can..Not do this?”
“Mm… The basement.”
Caboose sat up. “Church?”
“Yes, Caboose?”
“I’m cold.”
Church looked back at Caboose then down at Grif. He hesitated before turning to the bed. He walked over and crawled in beside him, not glancing back at Grif.
Grif slid back to his place on the floor. He looked down at the deflating tent in his pants. His mind couldn’t quite figure out what had almost happened.

Slowly, the canyon went to sleep.