My Discord Messages Between My Friends But I Made It Better

"i thought you'd wait"

a silly Grimmons snip it i wrote a little bit ago about a theoretical reunion between Grif and Simmons :)

you can read it on ao3 here

special thanks to @special-agent-goobs for beta reading <3

Word count: 632

Warnings: some bad words but that's it

enjoy -3-

The dusty air of the base hung heavy, the scent of oil and metal lingering like an old memory. Simmons sat at a rusted-out picnic table near the barracks, absently running a rag over his rifle, though it was already spotless. He didn’t look up when he heard boots crunching against the gravel behind him. He didn’t have to.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Simmons muttered, voice tight.

Grif sighed, stepping into his view. He looked different. Less like the orange lazy, half-assed soldier Simmons had spent years arguing with and more like… a man who had found something worth living for. He was still stocky, still had that perpetual slouch, but there was something softer about him now. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—like someone who had something to go home to.

“Yeah, well, turns out the military still has a hard-on for me,” Grif said with a forced chuckle. “Said you needed my help.”

Simmons scoffed. “And you agreed?”

“Didn’t have a choice.”

Simmons finally looked up, his green eyes sharp and unreadable. He wanted to be angry, but the truth was, Grif had always been the one thing he couldn’t hate, no matter how hard he tried.

“So, how’s the wife?” Simmons asked.

Grif relaxed, just a little. “She’s good.” He hesitated. “Baby’s due in a few months.”

Simmons let out a humorless laugh. “Wow. You really went all in on the whole ‘normal life’ thing, huh?”

Grif sat across from him, folding his hands together.

A bitterness filled his mouth and spilled out before he could stop it. 

“Guess I was easy to replace.”

Grif’s jaw clenched. 

“That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

Simmons turned away, staring off at the dim lights of the base. 

The bitterness dripped down his throat.

“Then tell me what did, Grif. Because from where I’m standing, you got over me real fast.”

Grif sighed. 

“I didn’t-, I had to move on Simmons. You made your choice, and it wasn’t me.”

Simmons swallowed hard, his voice quieter now. “I thought you’d wait.”

Grif looked away. “I thought you’d come with me.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

A silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

Grif exhaled through his nose

“You could’ve come with me,” Grif said, softer this time.

“I couldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Simmons gritted his teeth. “You left.”

“I asked you to come with me,” Grif shot back. “I wanted you to come with me. I wanted to build a life with you, Simmons.”

Simmons swallowed hard, trying to keep his face neutral.

Grif ran a hand down his face, looking exhausted. “And it wasn’t fast. It was years of trying to move on from you.” He shook his head. “I loved you. I wanted to marry you.”

Simmons’ breath hitched. He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

“If you’d come with me,” Grif continued, voice raw, “it would’ve been you.”

Simmons turned his gaze back to his rifle, gripping it tight like it could ground him.

“I have a family now,” he said, his voice steady. “And I love them. But don’t think for a second that it was easy letting you go.”

Simmons swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “It feels like you’re here just to rub it in my face”

Grif shook his head. “I’m not.”

“Then why does it still hurt?”

Grif didn’t have an answer for that.

Silence stretched between them again.

Eventually, Grif sighed and stood. “Look, man… after this, I’m gone. For good. I hope you—” He stopped himself, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simmons didn’t look up. He didn’t trust himself to.

“Just-, take care of yourself, Simmons.”

And Grif walked away. 

Simmons didn’t even try to stop him.

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