Chapter Text
Christ, he was having a bad week. Maybe he’d just been having a bad month, really, or maybe his entire life was bad. He couldn’t figure it out just yet. First had been that asshole freshman who’d made fun of his accent in front of the whole class and next had been fucking Jackson (more widely known as Jackass) questioning his entire study in front of one of his investors. Then he’d lost an important translation document somewhere in the anthropology department and it wouldn’t be too hard to go and get it but he always got into arguments with them about ethics and he really wasn’t feeling it right now.
The only thing the week had going for it was Friday with its promise of coffee with Shimada. He remembered Saturday, Shimada in that yukata that lined his neck perfectly as he sat just a few inches from his legs. Then there was Genji’s warning, he’d heard him talk of his brother’s boyfriends before but never in a good way and not in a while. He knew he wanted the older brother, but lord knows if he wanted to date the man and, as Genji said, Hanzo wasn’t out for casual. He wasn’t either, couldn’t really afford to be at this point. He was almost forty and still living in a shit apartment in Harlem by himself with only the occasional one-night stand. He didn’t know what he wanted with the older Shimada brother but it definitely wasn’t what he usually got these days.
He sighed and sat up from his desk and stretched, rubbing his temples to dispel his oncoming headache. He shut his laptop and started walking to his next class, hoping it went better than Monday’s. Today’s topic was the war of 1812 which wasn’t something he particularly enthusiastic about but it had to be taught, or so Gabe told him. His Tuesday-Thursday classes were his favorite right now, Mexican-American history and History of the Aztec Empire but it wasn’t Tuesday or Thursday so all he had was generic American history with a bunch of annoyed non-history majors just trying to get their gen-eds out of the way.
“Good afternoon, class,” he intoned as he set his computer down and used his stump to… fuck.
“Um, sir, where is your arm?” one of his students asked. He looked down at his arm in disbelief.
“Well, damn, looks like I forgot it.” He held up his stump of an arm and heard a quiet laugh perpetrate the large lecture hall. He usually tried to keep his hands out of his lectures as much as possible to keep it from becoming a thing because once someone picks up on his disability it becomes the talk of the rest of the class. Now, though he can’t help it.
“How’d you lose your arm?” Some nosy son of a bitch from the back asks.
“Well, that’s a long story that I’m not keen on telling right now.”
“I heard you were in a gang and lost it there.” That voice he knew and internally rolled his eyes. It was one of Jackson’s seniors, why he’d waited this long to take an introductory lecture he had no idea but he figured it was probably to antagonize him.
“I ain’t saying you’re right or wrong but I didn’t get it in a car crash.” He heard hushed whisper fill the room as every person turned to their neighbor excitedly. He sighed deeply and opened his laptop, pulling up his slides for the day. “Calm down, y’all, we got stuff to do today. My arm ain’t returning any time soon and my stories are remaining deep in this ol’ mind bucket a’mine.” He always jokingly laid it down pretty heavy with his accent whenever he was trying to get out of a sticky situation in class, humorous, but not enough to distraction.
He started his lesson, describing the most important battles and making snarky comments about how America wasn’t really as great as it touted itself to be. He always did that, some people liked it and some didn’t, but those people also assumed he’d been born in Mexico not New Mexico. He hadn’t found a good way to explain the difference in a way they’d understand yet and that was what really bothered him. He hated looking as if he didn’t know something. He always practiced his lectures at least three times before coming to class and he never messed up but he always felt the eyes of the of his students boring into him.
Research he was good at, research he enjoyed. Reading books, studying historical documents and relics, talking to people about their stories he loved that, that’s what made his job worth it. But since he’d been promoted a year ago, Gabe told him he had to start teaching classes, which he was happy to do. He loved when students came to him after class and asked him questions, he just couldn’t stand the actual lectures, the lights in front of the projector just seemed like a spotlight for all his flaws to be put out in the world.
People rarely critiqued his research without throwing in some kind of compliment unless they just blatantly objected his views and he tended to ignore those anyway, there was no pleasing them. But now that he was teaching, people saw him, he was out of the library and into the spotlight. Everything he’d ever done had been suddenly brought back up and stuffed in his face, people questioning his research and his motives for what he’d done. He didn’t belong in a place like this, with all these proud, confident elites when he was just a small town delinquent running from his past.
He missed his days in the Anthropology department, him and Ana spending countless hours setting up international skype calls, looking at scripts for hours and trying to translate ancient languages, and staying up hours after the library had closed to the public searching for the perfect document. He’d always had so much fun running across South America and just talking to people about their lives and learning how they did things. He even missed the near-constant ethics arguments on planes to Peru. Now all his life knew was monotony, sitting in the same place doing the same thing day-in, day-out. Sometimes he wished he could go back to his grad school days.
At times like these he thought of his friends, of Angela switching to the OR after working the ER for years, Genji joining an studio after freelancing for so long, Hana doing that amazing presentation of traditional animation having only ever 3D animation, They were amazing, and if they could be that amazing, then he could too. He just wasn’t used to it yet. It was his first year teaching, his first year as a professor, he would get used to it. If he didn’t, he was screwed.
“Hey, chico.” He looked away from his phone to see Sombra waltzing up to him. “Saw your lecture.”
“Oh, d’ya like it?” He asked, nervously chuckling.
“Jesse, are you still worried about that? You are a good teacher, even I was interested and you know how much I hate history.”
“I guess.” He looked down, scratching his head and he could feel Sombra rolling her eyes at him. “It’s just, living in Gabe and Jack’s foot steps, y’know.”
“If that’s your problem, you should have stuck with anthropology, you’ll always be compared to Papi if you stick with history. And Jack? You shouldn’t even worry yourself with that asshole.” She always spat his name like a curse but he knew she really cared for him so he just smirked.
“You say that but back during the Crisis you shut down everyone who said a single bad thing about him.” He pointed at her sternly with his stump and she scrunched her nose in amused disgust.
“He’s family, Jessito, no matter how much I don’t like him.” They left the hall and started the walk back to Jesse’s office.
“Oh? And pray-tell, what is it that you don’t like about him?”
“He’s too perfect,” she said frowning deeply, making Jesse laugh.
“Little golden boy.”
“Exactly, Jesse, you get it. He’s so nice it’s suspicious. Of course, I know all his secrets. I know all the dirty deals he’s made, the things he’s done to win. If I wanted to, I could easily bring him off his little pedastal. It’s good that he knows it, keeps him right where I want him.” She was smirking evilly but he knew she was at least partially joking.
“Christ, Som, that’s evil.” She turned her smirk at him.
“Is it?” She laughed shortly and turned to walk in front of him, hands behind her head. He smiled at her back, she had the weirdest sense of humor but it’s what came from living with Gabe. Hers was definitely more morbid than his or Gabe’s but none of them told what most people would consider ‘jokes’, mostly just biting sarcasm and over-exaggerated storytelling. “Anyway, wanna tell me about cute asian man you had an adorable coffee date with?”
“Gosh, Som, how’d you know-- never mind, I don’t wanna know. I’m surprised you don’t know who he is though, thought you knew everyone, that’s Hanzo Shimada, famous architect.”
“Know the name, never looked at a picture because I assumed he was some ugly old man, now I have to do more research, damn.”
“Som, don’t go too deep, I don’t want to invade his privacy.” They entered his office again and he started to search for his prosthetic.
“Can’t promise I won’t but whatever I find, I won’t tell you.”
“Som.” He picked up his prosthetic once he found it and put it in plain view so he wouldn’t forget it next time.
“Hey, if you don’t know, it’s like it never happened at all, right?” She shrugged nonchalantly and he sent her a glare as he picked a book up off his desk and opened it to the last dog-eared page, not really reading it, just preparing for when Sombra left.
“I’ll know you did it, I just won’t know the info and that’ll make me feel worse ‘cause then I’ll be curious at what it is but also guilty for being curious and mad at you for doin’ it.”
“That’s too many emotions,” she said, shaking her head bemusedly.
“Exactly, it’s confusing.”
“Ugh, you’re confusing me. Just give me the deets, I’m no good at lip-reading yet.”
“You really were--goddammit Som. Whatever, we just talked. About life, things, got to know each other. It’s not exactly like we’re friends, we just met each other that day.”
“You just met that day and you went out for coffee with him and paid for it.”
“See, this is exactly why I don’t want you looking up stuff on him. You don’t got any context, he found my wallet and let me treat him for it.” She regarded his face for a second before looking at her fingernails.
“He’s cute, though.”
“Yeah.”
“Go for it,” she pushed, urging him on with her stare.
“I can’t just-- we barely know each other,” he said in a futile attempt to get her to understand.
“So? Isn’t that what people use dating for? To get to know another person and make it obvious they’re interested in them. If you just go in with the intention of getting to know him as a friend, you might never get the chance to have anything else. You gotta make your intentions clear early or it’ll just get shoved under the bus.”
“I hate it when you’re right.” He threw his head back and put his book over his face. The more he thought about it, though, the more it made sense. He couldn’t just hide behind the curtain of friendship forever, that would just be leading him on. But was he, really? Their conversations were of those flirty friends that could easily turn into something else but if that went on, would it just turn into a normal friendship? Would he lose his chance? “I just, I don’t know what I want yet, and I don’t want to rush him into something he doesn’t want.”
“Are you seeing him again?”
“Yeah, Friday.”
“Then ask him.” She took the book off his face and snapped it shut. “Figure out what you want and ask him what he wants. Be clear about it, you’ll never have a good relationship if you can’t even openly state your interest in someone.”
“Fine,” he pouted, reaching out for his book. She pulled it away from him, leaving him floundered and almost falling out of his chair.
“Good.” She lightly placed the book on his desk and walked to the door. “I just want to see you happy, Jessito, so forget about Jack and Gabe, you’re better than both of them.” She slithered out of the room just as silently as she entered anywhere and he smiled after her; he was so lucky to have her.
On Friday, she came to his last class again and walked with him to Shimada’s office, telling him about some hack she’d done, making herself sound like some kind of cyber criminal from a shitty crime drama. He laughed at her antics, knowing she mostly worked as a freelance software designer and that the only criminal empire she had was a large database of information on various people she took an interest in.
He’d thought about what she said on Wednesday and had decided to do it. He would try his best to ask him carefully but he decided he wanted to date the man, whether it lead to disaster or a new beginning, it was better to just get it out of the way so it didn’t turn into something he would regret for the rest of his life. He hated thinking about what could’ve been. He was a man of action and it was time he took some.
With regards to standing in Gabe’s shadow and not feeling comfortable where he was, he still had a lot to think about. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to hide under a rock. Romance was something he’d done before (not successfully, but still), this was new to him, foreign. He was used to avoiding the spotlight but now he was right in the middle of it, the underdog, the one no one thought would succeed, but then again, doesn’t everyone love an underdog story?
“Hey there, Doctor Shimada.”