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The explosion, Gabriel must admit, is rather spectacular.
The last of his squad slips out just in time; it’s about twenty seconds after they clear the entryways that the building shudders with the explosion and collapses in a pile of steel beams and flames, and the fire lights up the night sky in a dark, vicious orange. Smoke blots out the moon in uneven intervals, sparks fly bright and fade out in the next instant, and Gabriel can still feel the heat against his neck.
“Christ Almighty,” Jesse swears, taking off his hat and fanning his face. In the firelight, Gabriel can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead. His bangs are plastered to his forehead, his lips dry, and there’s a splatter of blood across the bridge of his nose. Gabriel thinks for a moment that Jesse might just be the most stunning creature he’s ever laid eyes on.
He could’ve lost his entire team in that explosion, could’ve lost Jesse . This whole night’s been too close of a call for Gabriel’s liking. Images flood his brain unbidden, of scorched bodies being wheeled out on gurneys, only identifiable by the dog tags hanging from their necks. What would he have done if Jesse’d been lost in that fire? What would he have done without his right hand, his confidant, his best friend? It’s not the first time Jesse’s nearly been killed on a mission. It won’t be the last, either. But that heat is still sweltering against Gabriel’s face, and Jesse’s laughing because damn, we almost kicked the bucket, and Gabriel’s never seen a more beautiful man in his life -
“You good, jefecito ?” Jesse asks, and goddammit, Gabriel’s asked him to quit with the pet names on missions a thousand times.
Gabriel takes Jesse’s face in his hands and kisses him.
There’s a too long moment where Jesse’s mouth goes slack. Gabriel wonders if he’s made a mistake and then wonders if he cares, because kissing him is more need than impulse at the moment. Gabriel can faintly taste a terrible mix of salt and ash on Jesse’s lips and the smoky aftertaste of the cigarrillo he smoked on the transport. Jesse makes a little noise of surprise, and Gabriel’s about to back off when Jesse’s mouth moves against his, strong arms circling Gabriel’s waist and holding him tight.
A few Blackwatch agents hoot and holler at them, and if Gabriel wasn’t so busy kissing the devil out of his captain, he’d tell them to fuck off. Someone yells something stupid, along the lines of save those horses, Reyes! and Jesse laughs against his mouth.
Distantly, a bystander with a cellphone snaps a picture.
The news has gotten a hold of the photo by morning.
Between the explosion and the photo, the base seems to have lost its collective mind. After the incident in Rialto, the media is eager for any kind of scandal it can get with the name Gabriel Reyes in the headlines, and adding a dash of romance to the whole ‘catastrophically failed operation’ bit is the best thing they’ve had in months.
Gabriel’s worked hard to make sure they haven’t had anything in months. They’re having a fucking field day with this.
Jack calls him to his office around eight in the morning. Truthfully, with Jack typically waking at five, Gabriel’s a little surprised he wasn’t called three hours earlier. Blackwatch doesn’t give a shit, but Overwatch agents are staring at him and whispering, only going still when he makes eye contact.
If it was just about the explosion, he wouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t his fault the building was rigged to blow. Shit happens.
He stops at Jack’s office door and hesitates. Jack hasn’t been...unaware of Gabriel’s...fondness for Jesse for years. What he’s going to be displeased about is the media. What really worries Gabriel is that Ana is undoubtedly in there too.
Jesse’s only five years older than Fareeha. The thought is enough to make Gabriel wince; as a mother, it won’t matter to Ana that Jesse’s grown. What will matter is that Jesse is 21 years his junior, and not only his subordinate but his captain, and that’s going to look shitty no matter how Gabriel spins it.
He swallows down his apprehension and opens the door. Jack’s mouth is hidden behind his laced fingers, and he’s got multiple news articles spread over the holoscreen. Every single one has that goddamned photo right underneath the headlines.
Gabriel, selfishly, is enamored with that shot. Jesse’s muscular bulk is outlined in orange, arms snug around Gabriel’s waist, the way he leans into Gabriel’s body a telltale sign that he’s enjoying it.
They hadn’t talked about it when they got back to base. The whole squad had been bone tired, and it’d been nearing 4:00AM. But Jesse had kissed him goodnight and given him an adoring kind of smile that Gabriel’s never seen on Jesse’s face before, and Gabriel’s stomach is still fluttering with the thought that Jesse likes him.
Ana stands at Jack’s side with her arms folded, her small mouth set in a grim line. The anger radiating off her taints what little giddiness Gabriel’s allowed himself.
“I really don’t know what to say about this one, Gabe,”Jack says on an exhale. He rubs his temples and pulls one of the articles to the forefront of the screen. It’s from a celebrity gossip website, and the headline says Blackwatch Commander Caught Fraternizing With Subordinate.
That alone is damning. Jack reads out loud, “Following exposure in Rialto during the murder of allegedly corrupt businessman Antonio Bartalotti, Overwatch’s black ops division and its commander have kept out of the public eye until last night’s incident at a LumériCo warehouse suspected of being a front for drug cartels. Among swirling allegations of war crimes, treaty breaches, and violations of human rights, Commander Gabriel Reyes now adds another accusation to his list: fraternizing with his subordinates.”
Jack stops there. Ana purses her lips and looks away like Gabriel’s mere presence vexes her. Jack flips his holoscreen so Gabriel can read it, and Gabriel’s cheeks go darker the further he gets down the article. They speculate on if the agent was really Captain Jesse McCree; they mention his age; they wonder if this is one of many sex scandals or a textbook forbidden love affair, like something fresh out of a rom-com. The news had picked him apart after the Crisis, after Rialto, but Gabriel has never felt so laid bare before the world till now. Now, it’s not his battle strategies under question, not his political alignment or lack thereof, just him and the man he’s in love with.
“I can deny most of the shit you pull, Gabriel,” Jack says, rubbing his temples again, “But they got a picture this time. I can’t walk out there and say you didn’t kiss him. There’s no feasible way I can defend this to the public.”
“What were you thinking?” Ana demands.
He wasn’t. He hadn’t thought at all, just felt, just known that he was tired of close calls, tired of pretending Jesse didn’t make his heart leap in his chest. Gabriel was always distinctly aware that Jesse, as his captain, was in more danger than the average agent, and the constant anticipation of a hit combined with a near death experience had short-circuited him just long enough for him to move without thinking it through.
“I wasn’t thinking,” he admits.
“I see that,” Ana snaps. “And I suppose that while you weren’t thinking, you didn’t consider how much heat something like this would put Jesse under, nevermind the whole of Overwatch.”
He hadn’t given a damn about either of those things at the time. He’d thought about how many times he and Jesse could’ve bit the bullet, how any mission could be the last, and how Jesse’s bronze skin had looked by the light of that fire.
“He kissed me back,” Gabriel blurts, and it sounds stupid even in his head, but it’s out of his mouth already and he suddenly finds he can’t shut the fuck up. “I didn’t force it on him.”
Jack just looks at him, unsurprised. Ana looks incredulous. “Gabriel,” she says, brows knitting tight, “You can’t be serious -”
“McCree’s reciprocation aside,” Jack interrupts, and Ana goes quiet. Gabriel knows better than to be grateful; all it means is that Jack’s going to scold him out of uniform. “We didn’t need another scandal. The UN is already watching us like hawks, Gabe. If I let you go unscathed for some fraternization , they’re going to think there’s a lot worse going on behind the scenes.”
There is a lot worse going on behind the scenes, and all three of them know it. That, at least, is an argument for another time.
“I have to suspend you, at the very least,” Jack says. “McCree too.”
“This isn’t Jesse’s fault,” Gabriel objects, taking a step forward even as he winces inwardly at how easily he let Jesse’s first name slip. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He technically did,” Jack reminds him, “If he kissed you back.”
Gabriel flinches.
Jack exhales and leans back in his chair, then reaches out and swipes all the articles away. Without the holoscreen distorting his image, the bags under his eyes are all the more apparent. “I can only do so much, Gabriel,” he says with a tired kind of gentleness. “I have to look out for Overwatch, not just you.”
Jack looking the other way is how they’ve always operated, and before now...or at least, before Rialto, it’s been fine. This isn’t Jack’s fault, but Gabriel still thinks it’s unfair, that Jack can cover for him when he needs to get his hands dirty but not when he wants to love somebody.
They bring Jesse in next; effectively suspended, Gabriel doesn’t get to say a word. He won’t be giving any orders for the next month. Jesse walks in tall and proud, meets Jack’s eyes and very purposefully doesn’t look at Ana even once. Jack asks, as he must, if Jesse willingly partook in fraternizing with his commanding officer, and Gabriel aches for the way Jesse says yes, sir, with no hesitation. Jack prattles off a few more formalities, which Jesse acknowledges, more polite and respectful than they’ve ever seen him.
Outside Jack’s office, Jesse cocks his head at Gabriel and heads towards his quarters. In his room, Jesse forcefully shoves everything off his dresser.
“This is bullshit,” he spits.
Gabriel doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have kissed him, not right then, maybe not at all. He knows people are going to start spreading rumors that Jesse got the captain’s position through unsavory means, and it won’t matter that Jesse’s simulation scores are higher than anybody else’s, or that he’s just really fucking good at his job.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel says finally.
Jesse whirls on him. “Don’t you say that to me,” he says, voice hard.
“What should I say?” Gabriel demands. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. The whole world saw us. There’s no backing down from it. People are going to think - “
“I know what people think,” Jesse snaps. “Don’t remember sayin’ I gave a shit.”
Gabriel’s mouth works for a moment. Jesse narrows his eyes. “Give me a good reason I can’t be with you,” he says. “And don’t say military regulations, because we’ve never given a damn about those before.”
“It’s not the rules,” Gabriel sputters. Jesse’s always been brazen, but the question jerks all Gabriel’s brain processes to a halt. “It’s hierarchy.”
Jesse folds his arms.
“I’m your commanding officer,” Gabriel tries. “If I -”
“You’n I have been close for years,” Jesse huffs. “You think you’re gonna start pullin’ rank on me now, just ‘cause the nature of it changed? Give me somethin’ that makes sense, Gabriel.”
Jesse’s point doesn’t completely soothe his worries, but it takes a lot of the fire out of Gabriel’s argument. “I’m too old for you,” he blurts, and that isn’t something Jesse can argue, not with 21 years between them.
Jesse holds his hand up. “Nope, try again,” he says. “You wanna say I’m too young for you? Fine. But don’t go decidin’ what’s good for me.”
Gabriel wants to say Jesse is too young for him, except he’s the one who kissed Jesse in the first place, which makes that point moot. And that leaves him with little else other than I adore you, which isn’t so much an argument as it is an encouragement.
“If you’re done,” Jesse says after a moment of uneasy silence, “I’d like to put my two cents in and say I’ve been makin’ eyes at you for years now.”
Gabriel’s speechless, and it must show on his face because Jesse’s expression softens with amusement. Gabriel finally manages, “Since when?”
“Hell,” Jesse snickers. “I don’t know, sugar. You’ve always been easy on the eyes, so I suppose sometime after I stopped wanting to kick your teeth in.”
It took Gabriel a long time to earn McCree’s respect, but that was still ages ago. Jesse takes note of his shock and grins, then adds, “You ain’t real observant in that regard, darlin’.”
He knows he isn’t. Jack used to make fun of him for it, back when they were young soldiers.
“You really…” he starts, then swallows. His cheeks are too hot. Jesse looks determined and affectionate all at once, and his bedroom lights don’t do much for his complexion like firelight does, but Gabriel is still floored by him, still ruined in a way he can’t properly express.
“I can’t give you much,” he says finally. “I can’t be openly affectionate with you or...I can’t even take you out to dinner. We’d have to hide it.”
Jesse shrugs. “Don’t bother me none.”
“People are going to talk shit if they suspect anything,” Gabriel insists. “They’re already talking shit. You’re going to get the brunt of it.”
Jesse snorts. “I got a very select few on my list of people whose opinions matter to me, Gabe. Besides,” he adds, waving his hand dismissively, “People’ve talked shit since you dragged me in off the street.”
Gabriel’s scrambling now. “If we’re caught, we’ll get court martialed,” he says, almost desperate, tell me no. “You’d lose everything. The deal we made won’t mean shit - “
Jesse laughs. “Sweetheart,” he exclaims. “Gabriel. If they’re gonna get us over somethin’, it won’t be me sharin’ your bed.”
Gabriel’s cheeks flush. His brows knit, and he rubs his hand over his head and exhales like he’s making one more valiant attempt to talk himself out of it. The stress of media exposure is getting to him, his health is getting to him, and the person he wants most is right in front of him, offering solace.
Jesse’s in his space suddenly, lacing their fingers together and taking Gabriel’s chin in his free hand. “If you’re worryin’ about me,” he says softly, “Don’t. You want this. I want this. That oughta be enough.”
Gabriel swallows again. Jesse’s so close. Gabriel’s fingers slide over his waist and come to rest at the small of Jesse’s back, his other hand squeezing Jesse’s, Jesse’s eyes are already half-lidded -
“Tell me to stop,” Gabriel begs, barely a whisper, and their noses are touching.
“Make me,” Jesse murmurs.
Jack makes up some shit for the press and says that the fraternization never made it past the early stages, and that both parties have been penalized accordingly. In civilian clothes, he makes an attempt at scolding Gabriel and quickly gives up, perhaps because he knows it’s fruitless and perhaps because he knows a good thing when he sees it. Ana remains sore at them both.
To an onlooker, nothing changes. The articles attempting to detail their love lives might as well not exist. Gabriel shows Jesse no more favoritism than usual; people whisper, and are subsequently ignored. If any questions come up, they deny it, though on occasion, one might catch them exchanging glances that lean a little past fond.
They confine their love to their quarters.