You Ever Wonder Why We're Here? - Grimmons

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

Two bases in a boxed canyon. That's all there is. That's all there ever had been and that's all there ever will be, in Blood Gulch. None of the 8 inhabitants (plus 2 robots) knew why they were there or how long they were even meant to be there. So they all collectively decided, wether they meant to or not, to just stand around, talk and just generally disregard their 'missions from Command'. Some struggling to get used to the change than others... more specifically, Sarge struggling not to shoot any person, in blue armour, in the face... with a shotgun.
"Hey," Simmons' voice rang curiously, "Do you ever wonder why we're here?"
Grif, the shorter man who also weighed the most out of the pair, or maybe even the whole population of the canyon, glanced over at him and exhaled deeply. "This again? How many times have you asked me this question?" The man's voice was laced with slight irritation but no real venom.
Simmons replied almost defensively, "Well what else are we gonna talk about? There isn't really much to talk about, is there?"
Rolling his eyes, the brunette shook his head at the slim figure across from him. "Guess not" he shrugged a bit, deciding to sit down and hang his legs over the side of the base. "Why are we here on the roof though? Sarge gave us a task which is pointless! We aren't even fighting each other!" Grif complained, Simmons listening with mild curiosity.
"Uh-huh... I don't get it either..." Simmons murmured quietly and sat down like Grif had, his lanky legs laid over the edge of the roof of the structure.
Simmons never really minded when Sarge would order him and Grif to 'be on lookout for any attackers' because it just meant he could spend time with Grif, his best friend. Even though they were practically polar opposites, he couldn't help but feel comfortable, safe, around the man. He could never bring himself to accept the fact he felt joyful and giddy around him, rejecting any feelings beyond just 'beat friend' out of pure denial. He didn't even know why he did so.
He guessed that this was one of life's greatest mysteries.
Grif had glanced over at him, unsure if wether his murmuring had been a sign of boredom or if he wasn't listening.
He watched as the tall male sat down beside him, his sunset orange hair in a neat style as if he had combed it this morning. His hair complimented the freckled pale skin and emerald green eye. His sharp cheekbones and skinny stature as well as his glasses completed the nerdy look.
When Simmons had felt a pair of eyes staring at him he turned to meet Grif's mismatched ones. Grif's now mismatched skin and eyes made him stand out amongst the soldiers, much like he did. His shaggy brown hair was here, there and everywhere atop his head and a few strands rested on his forehead, his stubble matching his distasteful, scruffy style.
When Simmons had turned to meet Grif's gaze his cybernetic eye with the red hue was then visible, reminding Grif of how Simmons had given up his own eye and a limb to save Grif's life and mobility. He always questioned why he would do that for him but he just scratched it down to the fact they're friends and they look after each other.
"What? Is there something on my face? In my hair?" Simmons broke the awkward silence between them after they had been looking at each other awkwardly for a minute or two.
Shaking his head, Grif averted his gaze from the other soldier, "Nope, just thought I saw something."
Simmons rolled his eyes, his cheeks now a light shade of pink. "Doofus" he muttered as he looked across the canyon.