Chapter Text
Gabriel Reyes has not forgotten the offer Jack Morrison made on their last rendezvous. Be at Ilios in two weeks. He arrives two days early, dressed down as casual as a man in a mask can, and stakes out the safehouse.
It's a single story house, set on a slight hill and shielded from prying eyes. The back yard slopes down to a covered path that leads to the river's edge. Quaint and unremarkable in a scarcely populated neighborhood of tourist rentals, it blends in well.
Gabriel tells himself he's not sentimental. The fluttering in his chest feels suspiciously like hope, small and dancing like a moth. He crushes it in an iron grip of suspicion. This could be a trap. It could be his end.
He's not going to trip over his heels into something stupid for long dormant feelings stirred up by a ghost.
So Reyes sets himself up nice and comfortable in a nearby empty house and watches. In two days no one comes or goes. On the second night Gabriel mists in through the roof and takes in all the little cottage has to offer.
Nothing has changed since he last visited a lifetime ago. Sparse kitchen, comfortable living room, a pair of bedrooms with big beds. The cupboards are bare save for a few pitiful cans of cheese whiz, as are the various gun lockers sprinkled through the building. Gabriel installs a few cameras and leaves before memories of days past start to creep to the surface of his thoughts.
On day three Jack Morrison arrives. Driving a nondescript sedan with darkly tinted windows, Jack hasn't bothered blending in. He doesn't even take off the gaudy jacket as he unloads. It takes him four trips to remove all the gear from the car. He hauls in bag upon bag: rations, ammunition, biotic fields, med kits, and creature comforts like linens. There's even a potted plant. That Jack has both his pulse rifle and sidearm does not go unnoticed.
Gabriel spends the rest of the day watching. Jack Morrison is dutiful. He puts away all the items with sharp, precise movements. Everything has a proper place and gets there with his help. It takes the better part of the day. He cooks a meager dinner and cleans his weapons before placing them in a gun locker hidden in the front closet. It is the least accessible place to store his weapons in the house. Jack is too smart of a man for it to be anything but intentional.
Gabriel misses nothing- the dead don't need to get up. He merely settles into his seat as teh hours tick by. The dead does take off his mask though.
When Gabriel expects him to sleep, Jack carries on. He works out once, paces the rooms, moves some furniture against the walls. Gabe realizes he's counting steps, mapping out the house. Jack tests the locks on the windows and doors. He works out again and showers, leaving the door open for the few brief minutes it takes. Boots and jacket left behind, he trods out to the living room in a tanktop and tactical pants.
And then Jack sits. Elbows braced on his knees in one of the soft chairs in the living room, he steeples his hands on the front of his visor. And sits. Sits for hours. It's possible he dozes -so still even Gabriel can't tell- but it appears Jack is awake, alert and tense.
Gabriel watches, wary and wondering if the feed is being looped while Jack gets up to trouble. He checks twice, almost calls Sombra before deciding it's not looped. Jack just sits until the break of day. The old man spends half an hour stretching before sliding into the kitchen to make another small meal.
The rest of the day is much of the same. Jack cleans, rearranges more furniture (though it seems more from boredom than necessity), fixes a wobbly chair. He patrols the rest of the grounds, twice, before lunch. Gabriel watches constantly, only tearing himself away to feed. A trip to the hospital finds him a fresh soul and leaves no suspicious bodies in his wake. Mask off and sated, he settles.
Jack's running out of things to do. He should just go. He doesn't even know that Gabriel will come. Jack should leave. By dinner times Jack is beginning to go stir crazy.
Gabriel feels the same. Stakeouts are nothing new, but as the hours pass he becomes more infuriated.
Jack should definitely leave. Gabe paces by the monitor setup. His mood oscillates wildly. Stupid ass Jack Morrison is waiting like a perfect target all in the hopes that Gabriel shows up. It's so pathetic. He should roll in there armed and just put the man down.
Stupid Jack Morrison actually came alone, and he actually locked his own weapons away and he actually stayed past the first day. Soldier 76 is a grizzled man with a mission, and apparently enough hope under his gruff nihilism to risk his life just for the chance to see Gabriel again.
Dumb fucker.
The stupid optimist is going to be the death of him.
Jack is on his fourth workout of the day -shirt soaked with dark rings of sweat- when Gabriel stands up from his console with a furious rumble. He's a blur of motion, grabbing his coat to throw over his shoulders.
He's gnashing teeth and clenched fists as he shadow steps into the safehouse yard. He mists into the building, feeling like a thundercloud. Gabe reforms in the kitchen with hardly a sound. Jack should still be working out, but the house is silent when he materializes.
He treads to the living room, letting his boots fall hard and angry, announcing his presence. Jack stands ready, hair mussed and skin slick with sweat. Braced, muscles bunched and tight, he's prepared to flee or fight. His visor is inscrutable, bright and unwavering in its stare. Gabriel feels naked without his own mask.
It only takes Gabriel three steps to cross the room and hoist Jack Morrison up by his collar. "Are you really that much of an idiot? He snarls around the words, face a tableau of incredulous rage."
Jack looks down at him through his dumb red visor, with his dumb hands braced on Gabriel's forearm not trying to break free. The dumb breath he lets loose sounds far too relieved for someone being threatened by death.
"Why are you still here? Practically asking for an ambush pendejo," Gabriel shakes Jack. He cannot stand this man. He cannot stand the way Jack's wormed under his fetid skin and makes him feel jittery. After all these years he feels so out of control when offered Jack's hopes on a goddamn platter.
"What are you even doing Jack?" Gabriel yells.
Jack's head inclines just slightly. His arms are still knotted with tension, though he does nothing to protest. "Waiting for you," He says like it's the simplest truth in the world.
Gabriel hates the way he feels like he's burning from the inside out, scorched to ashes by the sincerity in Jack's voice. He drops the man with a wordless, furious sound. There is nothing warm and loving left inside of Gabriel Reyes. Nothing. He is a killer, cold, inhuman and Death upon his foes. He steals souls from the living to keep his wretched corpse moving. There should be nothing in him for Jack Morrison to twist and fill with Indiana sunshine.
Gabriel doesn't notice Jack move as he stands there, thoughts wailing against his head. When warm fingers brush his face, Reyes jumps more than he should, balled hands rising to strike. "Don't touch me!"
The hand pauses for the briefest of moments before cupping Gabriel's jaw. Jack's fingers are warm and calloused, placed with purpose and care. They are pleasantly warm.
"Your face healed," Jack sounds so relieved it hurts.
Jack was always good at disarming him. When they would talk or fight Jack would spin his head like a globe, ripping the ground from under his feet. He'd face the torrent of Gabriel's rage just to say some stupid singular thing that would leave the older man reeling. To someone accustomed to snarling loud enough to scare away his problems, Jack Morrison was terrifying. Back then he did the only thing he could think of- he ran.
He feels like a young man again. He came here to what? Talk? Fight? Make up? He isn't sure anymore.
The hand on his face is grounding against the tidal wave of thoughts.
"Yea, it healed." The words roll thick and dumb off Gabriel's tongue. His shoulders quiver then sag as he deflates into Jack's touch.
Jack steps forward, one hand curling around Gabriel's neck as he leans their foreheads together.
It strikes Gabriel that Jack's done this more than a few times now. It's not unpleasant. One hand wanders up to cup the back of Jack's head, palm braced on the hard back of his visor and fingers buried in his sweaty hair.
They curl towards one another for long moments. This isn't something they did as young men, but the sensation is comforting. Gabriel doesn't question it further.
Gabriel breaks the silence first, calm fading with the seconds, "What happens next?"
Jack draws back, just enough so they can each drape an arm around the other's neck. Gabe's free hand slides to his waist. Jack's rests on his chest.
"We talk I guess." Jack's voice drops, he sounds exhausted. Gabriel wonders if this whole whatever this is has been as draining on Jack as it has been on him. Is Gabriel exhausting to the old solider or is it just the sleep deprivation?
"It's not too late if you just want to go back to shooting at each other." jack laughs weakly.
He frowns, ignores the way his grip tightens as Jack pulls back. Jack hasn't slept at least since he got here. There are talks to be had, long talks. He doesn't doubt they will fight. There's no way to bring up their past without talking about their present and the opposed sides they represent. But he doesn't want to have them with a delirious Jack Morrison.
That's what he tells himself at least.
"Tomorrow." Gabriel decides, "It can wait until morning."
The space between them widens. Jack's brow furrows, tension creeping back into his posture. He opens his mouth to protest.
"Just until morning," Gabriel insists, "You haven't slept."
Jack freezes. Even with the mask, Gabriel can feel the way his gaze narrows on him, "So you have been watching."
Gabriel inclines his head with a confident smile that dimples one of his cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jack punches him in the chest with an undignified snort.
Like water breaking the dam, things flow easily after that. They untangle, gliding apart before Jack laces his fingers with Gabriel's and tugs him toward the bedroom.
"Stay," A question more than an order. Gabriel follows without missing a beat. It shouldn't be this easy.
Gabe lifts their joined hands, peppers kisses along Jack's knuckles, torn and weathered as they are. Discarded clothes litter the short distance down the hall to the bed. Gabriel should be embarrassed, should know better than to let his hands wander over familiar and news scars on a pale back. He should go.
Gabriel is tired of thinking about what he should be. He sheds his trousers at the foot of the bed before following Jack onto the sheets.
He indulges in the moment, shuts out the looming thoughts of everything behind them and the conversations to come and drowns in the sights and sounds of Jack. Jack pulling him into bed. Jack running reverent hands up his sides, over his arms, down his back, everywhere. The smell of his him, sweat and musk, familiar like it hasn't been years since Gabe's had the man in his arms. Jack.
Gabriel devours everything he has to offer. Gabriel climbs on top of him, relishing in the sheer amount of contact. No one touches Reaper and he is content with that. But this damn golden boy bends toward him like a plant for the sun, worships smoking and discolored skin with mouth and hands. It sets him abuzz with sensation.
Gabriel is still reeling and delights in the fall. His hands blaze across the planes of Jack's body like he's the one that might disappear. His nose knocks the front of teh visor as he places a chaste, unsatisfying kiss there. Burying his face in the crook of Jack's neck he sucks dark marks into the skin, growling as he's pulled up for air.
"Easy," says Jack, "Not as young as I was. "
Gabriel relents, propping himself to the side to give them both a break. A tentative hand reaches up to wipe the side of the visor in a silent question. Jack freezes, body drawing taut beside him.
It's crushing to see Jack sit up, abrupt and sharp. Gabriel bites back the disappointment, buries it in stillness. Remembers to breathe around a cold prickle under his skin.
But Jack doesn't go far. Feet on the floor and back to Gabriel, he sighs long and loud. Gabriel watches. Practiced hands reach up, pry at the face mask until it slips free. He sets it on the bedside table.
Gabe snakes closer on the bed, excited and pleased. Thoughts of all he can do, all he wants to, will do to that face pulling him further into the moment. He's nosing along Jack's hip, looking up to see him still pulling at the pieces of the mask.
A surprised sound lifts from his throat as he realizes Jack's taking the rest of the mask off. Removing the mounting that brackets his face. Without it there will be no easy way for Jack to gain his sight back if something goes wrong. Easy, blind prey.
Gabriel cannot voice the feeling in his chest- it is all encompassing and bright, filing him to the point of bursting. He paints it into Jack's hip with his mouth. He traces the ill defined lines of it across Jack's lower back with his hand.
Stupid optimist is going to be the death of him.
The mounting is much larger, wrapping around Jack's head and covering his ears. A section framing his jaw breaks free with a click. He reaches to his ears, hissing as the pieces slide free from mirror positions on the sides of his head. Gabe watches in mute fascination, eyes locked on the sharp metal prongs that slide clear of neat holes in the side of Jack's head. Implants. It's a slow process, and Jack's eyes screw shut until they are completely removed and set aside.
The solid plate on the back of his skull seems to be the most uncomfortable. Gabe sits up, pressing himself to Jack's side as the soldier reaches back. Red eyes catch the shudder as he inhales, mouth hanging loose in a silent gasp.
This pieces takes longer than the rest: tiny metal prongs clustered thick as a bristle brush slide free from a large rectangular port nestled among thinning white hair. It's so much more involved than he thought. At most he had expected from sub-dermal neural transmitters, but this- it looks analog, ancient tech practically!
Gabe trails soft, reverent kisses over Jack's shoulder, hand rubbing soothing circles into his skin. He watches sightless blue eyes snap open and bobble back and forth. Gabe places the shed parts of the visor on the nightstand. Jack doesn't protest as he moves in to explore, even turns to face Gabriel more completely and drawing his bare feet back onto the bed.
Cautious fingers wind through flattened hair, tracing the edge of a port near Jack's ear. Auido-Jack. His mind supplies with juvenile delight, watching Jack's jaw twitch as his nail drags across the edge. His thumb grazing the larger port actually makes Jack gasp, curling forward.
"It hurts?" Gabe draws back, apologetic kisses to his shoulder. His fingers drift back to the safe expanse of Jack's spine.
"No." The old solider breathes, settles into Gabe's touch with each second. "It feels like static. Just unpleasant. Not the worst thing considering how much hardware is in there."
How much exactly? Gabe isn't given the time to wonder before Jack is reaching with awkward fingers until he's cradling Gabe's face once more. He pulls them together again, so close they're sharing breaths. Gabe marvels at the face before him. Wrinkles and scars, lines and imperfections hidden away from everyone but him. Gabriel leans forward.
The kiss is soft, fragile even. They skirt around one another like each move will be the one to end it. Gabe wants nothing more than to live in this tenuous illusion before they are forced back to who they should be. For once he just wants things to be simple. Just be this.
He knows it can't last.
He growls, hand curling around Jack's waist and pulling him flush against his chest, desperate as he deepens the kiss. The sound Jack makes as he falls open is more satisfying than any soul he's devoured. Gabe intends to feast tonight.