New Recruit
Church would never have pegged himself as being the kind who'd go for Simmons. He certain never would have pegged Simmons for being the type he'd go for. But when options are limited, 'types' and 'preferences' tended to get overlooked in favor of availability and convenience.
Simmons was both available and convenient, and Church had gone far too long without any kind of anything physical at all. When they had returned from dumping the rest of the Reds off in the middle of the canyon, he cornered him in the hallway and decided it was time they have a little face to face chat. Simmons had invaded his base, lied about who he was, and was generally a pain in the ass at the best of times; so Church figured it was time to pull rank and get a bit of benefit out of the situation.
He hadn't really realized himself what he was doing at first, or at least he liked to tell himself that. It's kind of hard not to notice that you've got another person backed into a corner and frantically pulling off their armor while rubbing your codpiece against theirs in anguish of having no sense of friction to get off on.
He was quite sure Simmons wasn't really ready for it, but he didn't really care. And besides, Simmons stopped complaining once Church had his tongue firmly down his throat. It hadn't taken too much longer for Simmons to kiss back.
Then the frantic stumble to the bed, complete with discarding the last straggling remnants of clothing either wore, and a brief awkward moment as it was asserted who was going to be doing what to whom, and finally the sex. The sex wasn't bad, either, as far as sex goes.
In fact, Church had to admit, it was pretty good. There had been absolutely no expectation to have disappointed in the first place, so perhaps that helped, but he had to admit that Simmons did have a nice body, and he got off on how it moved beneath him, and on top of him, and beside him, and in all the other positions he put it in. He had fucked him several times over, until both were out of energy.
Church almost kicked him out afterwards. Almost. The order was on his lips even as he rolled over, but then Simmons had cautiously slipped his arms around him, and held him, and Church closed his eyes and was asleep before he knew it.
The next morning he woke up alone and snorted his contempt at the situation. He always woke up alone. He hardly noticed anymore. But then he had turned over just as Simmons came through the door, wearing a pair of Church's pajama bottoms and carrying a tray.
Then he smiled. Smiled! What the fuck was that about, what was Simmons doing smiling at him this morning? And he came over and sat on the bed beside him so he could see what was on the tray.
"The fuck is all this?"
"Breakfast," Simmons murmured, and Church rubbed his eyes and looked confused, which always made him look angry as well.
"What for?"
Simmons faltered a little. He hadn't quite expected this to cause a negative reaction. "I uh... for you?"
Church just stared at it, as if believing any moment now it was going to vanish in a puff of smoke. But the longer he stared at it, the more it asserted it's solid reality, and he finally pulled himself to a sitting position. "Oh. Uh... aren't you going to have anything?"
"I already ate," he replied, a bit of a smile creeping back onto his lips.
Church flattened out his legs as Simmons rested the tray across his lap. It looked good, that's for sure. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast, a little bowl with butter and another with jam, then a glass of orange juice and...
"That coffee looks pretty damn weak," Church grumbled, needing desperately to find something he could complain about before he went insane.
"It's tea," Simmons corrected.
"Oh." Fuck. What was this, anyway? Breakfast in bed? Why?! Church couldn't think of any reason at all he was being treated nice by the man he practically raped last night, however much Simmons may have enjoyed it. It had been for him and him alone. He had taken him, he hadn't even bothered to ask permission. And he was being rewarded for it?
"Anyway, I'll leave you to eat while I go clean up." Simmons stood up. Church wasn't reacting quite as he had hoped, but at least not as bad as it could have been, and he figured maybe he just needed to be alone for a little longer. He slipped out of the room without another word.
Church just stared at the tray again until he realized it was going to go cold if he didn't eat soon, and as much as he almost didn't want to eat the offered meal, he was hungry and it was a shame for it to go to waste.
And damn if it wasn't delicious, too. The tea wasn't his thing, he would have preferred his coffee, but the rest was good and definitely filling. When he was done he set the tray on his nightstand and looked around the room as if the unusual events of the morning were just too much to acknowledge by getting out of bed and accepting he was awake.
Simmons didn't return, and finally Church admitted defeat and got up. He didn't go looking for Simmons, not exactly. He just started to realize that Simmons wasn't anywhere where he went, and so expanded his journey. He eventually 'happened' to just 'notice' him on top of the base. He was back in his badly painted blue armor. It was hard to miss.
Church left him alone. In fact, they didn't run into one another until that night, Church made sure of it.
That night, Church was already in bed when his door opened and Simmons came in, once again dressed in nothing but Church's bottoms. He scowled at the Red and tried to convince himself he was not getting turned on looking at his bare chest, however much he was becoming desperately turned on.
Simmons waited a beat, and when no angry comment or insistence that he leave was forthcoming, he made his way to the bed. He stood there for a moment, waiting to see if Church would do anything. He did. Reaching out to pull at the drawstring and send the pajama bottoms falling to the floor. Simmons had nothing on beneath.
Church stared at him, refusing to be turned on by this, and failing miserably. He pushed the covers back, revealing he also wore nothing, and pulled Simmons gently into bed with him. Maybe Simmons wasn't so bad. Maybe last night was worth repeating.
But just this once.
Which was exactly what Church told himself every night.