Chapter Text
It was three o’clock on Christmas Morning, and as Gabriel Reyes-Morrison let himself into his apartment, he tried to remember when he used to get excited about Christmas, and failed.
Christmas to most people was presents, going to church, maybe a nice dinner or two.
The problem was that, for people like Gabriel and his husband, someone had to make those nice dinners. So, for them, Christmas meant long-ass hours, open-to-close shifts, no sleep, catering an onslaught of holiday parties, and generally wanting to grab the next person who wished them a ‘Merry Christmas’ and shove a pine tree up their ass. From what Jack had told him before they’d left for their respective kitchens yesterday, even Lena, the constant ray of sunshine, had finally cracked a little bit under it all, threatening to carve steaks off of Genji Shimada after the server had come back needing four plates re-fired immediately because he’d screwed up on their checks, swearing a blue streak the entire time she’d worked to replace the botched dishes.
Gabriel was fairly sure Jack was already in bed, and Gabriel would admit to being more than a little envious. Overwatch had closed at eleven and the kitchen was usually wrapped up by no later than one in the morning, even on the worst nights, where Gabriel had been responsible for delivering a corporate holiday party that had managed to drag well past midnight. Longstanding habits and his own professionalism wouldn’t let him get away with just pushing everything out of the van and walking away, much as he wanted to, which meant it had taken until a quarter past two to get everything cleaned, put away, and locked up before heading home.
So now, at this ungodly hour, he dragged himself through the door, hung his raincoat on the hook, and ran a hand over his shaven head, trying to keep himself awake long enough to get undressed.
To his surprise, when he entered their living room he found that his husband was sitting on the couch, head tipped back against the cushion as he snored. Gabriel padded over quietly, then gently kissed Jack’s forehead before he spoke. “You’re gonna get a crick in your neck doing that, you idiot.”
Jack groaned softly, not really waking, so Gabriel lightly shook his shoulder. “C’mon, mi sol. What are you even doing out here? You should be in bed.”
Blinking a few times until his eyes focused, Jack looked confused for a moment before smiling up at his husband. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself, dumbass.” Gabriel offered a hand as he stepped back, gently helping Jack up to his feet, a smile taking the sting from his words. “Why were you sleeping on the couch?”
“Wasn’t sleeping, ” Jack corrected peevishly, “that was a nap.”
“Uh-huh,” Gabriel scoffed, “sure.”
“I wanted to stay up until you got home. Give me a break.”
Gabriel sighed, then smiled as they shuffled into the bedroom. “Ok, ok. That was very sweet of you. But you could have at least grabbed yourself a pillow.”
“Wasn’t planning to fall asleep,” Jack grumbled as he undressed, “I was trying to watch TV, but it was all old movies and infomercial crap. Guess I just zonked out. How was the party?”
Gabriel shrugged as he pulled the covers back, slipping underneath the sheets and comforter with a sigh. “It went OK. The usual holiday bullshit, and they dragged their feet on leaving. Got a nice tip that I split with Hanzo and Fareeha, though.”
Jack nodded, then joined him in bed. “You send her home or make her stay to clean up?”
Gabriel smiled. “Tried to send her home. She insisted the job wasn’t done until we finished everything.”
Jack chuckled, a sleepy edge to his rumbling laugh. “Ana’s gonna kill you. There’s absolutely no way she’s going to talk Fareeha out of Culinary School at this rate.”
“Yeah, well,” Gabriel yawned, then settled himself in for a good night’s sleep, one arm wrapping around his husband’s waist, “Ana can wait until I’ve slept a solid 12 hours.”
“Sounds like a plan…” Jack’s hand found his, and their fingers interlaced for a squeeze. “Hey. Gabe?”
Gabriel raised his head slightly, pulling back from where he’d been about to fall over the edge of passing out. “Mm? Yeah?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Gabriel gently pressed a kiss to the back of his husband's neck. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”