Chapter Text
Gabriel sits at the bar, nursing a drink. The lights are dim, and the football game playing overhead the speakers is drowned out by the loud cheering and yelling from the crowds. The bartender does nothing to quiet them, just stands behind the bar pouring drink after drink and watching the crowd apathetically.
Gabriel downs the rest of his drink, and waves to her for another. She gives it to him without a word. He swirls the drink around in his cup, watching it slosh around in circles. It feels like his life is swirling down the drain.
He tries not to think about that.
Across the dingy room, the door slams open, and a group steps into the room. The first through the door is a rugged looking blond man, clad in a red, white, and blue jacket with a massive 76 emblazoned on the back. After him, yet another man enters, this one with long brown hair, and brown eyes. He wears a cowboy hat and boots, as if he had just stepped right out of some western movie. And finally, a third man steps into the bar behind them both, clad in full leather, one of the sleeves of his jacket torn off to reveal a massive, coiling dragon tattoo.
The trio take the time to survey the bar for a moment, a dissatisfied look on each of their faces. Finally, the blond steps forward and the others follow him right up to the seats next to him.
Gabriel ends up practically touching shoulders with the blond, who takes his sunglasses off to reveal stunning blue eyes beneath them. Gabriel does his best not to stare.
The group orders their drinks, and the bartender hands them over quickly. Gabriel scoots away a little as the group begins to get rowdy.
He tucks himself back into his drink and his sorrows, trying to drown out all the melancholy and regret. The papers in his pocket weigh him down like an anchor.
Beside him, the blond says something that makes the whole group laugh, and then the brown haired man shoves him, and the blond loses his grip on his drink. Cold alcohol pours right onto his shirt, shocking him out of his own head.
“My fault.” The blond says, smacking the other man in retaliation. The group sobers up a bit. The blond reaches for the napkins, trying to pat Gabriel’s shirt down with them.
“It’s fine.” He huffs, snatching the napkins from the man’s hand. It’s not really fine. It’s cold outside, October has just set in and chilled the air. But he doesn’t want the man fumbling all over him with napkins.
“Can I buy you a drink? To make up for it?”
“Sure.” He grunts. He doesn’t really care. As long as he is plastered by the end of the night it's all fine.
Gabriel goes back to his brooding as the blond grabs the bartender's attention, not paying him any mind.
Gabriel knows he cannot go home tonight. He can never go home again, actually. Martina has had enough of him and she has made it more than clear.
Something slides across the bar towards him, and Gabriel catches it more out of reflex than anything else. In his hand is some brightly colored fruity abomination, topped with cherries and ridiculously thin orange slices, and a little paper umbrella.
Gabriel casts a confused look at the blond, who grins back.
“What? You looked like you could use a little sugar right about now.” The blond shrugs, and Gabriel can’t even be mad at that.
Gabriel takes a sip of his drink, and it actually doesn’t taste terrible. Dammit.
“Jack Morrison.” The man says, extending his hand to shake. “And that is Cole and Hanzo.”
“Gabriel.” He says in turn, taking the man’s hand. Jack’s hand lingers on him just a few seconds too long.
“Great to meet ya’, sir.” Cole says, tipping his hat to Gabriel. Sure.
Drinking with them would not be the worst thing, he supposes. Why not drown his sorrows with company?
Gabriel feels significantly better as he finishes his drink, which has more alcohol in it than it really should. Before he has even taken the fruit from the bottom, another one slides across the bar towards him, and Jack gives him a wink.
“How are you holding up, Gabriel?” Jack asks, plucking the straw from Gabriel’s old drink and helping himself to a sip of the new one.
“I’m fine.” He pops one of the cherries into his mouth. “Thank you. For the drinks.”
“Not a problem.” Jack waves his hand dismissively, stealing one of the orange slices from the rim of the class and putting the whole thing in his mouth, peel and all. “I can tell you are drinking to forget something. I won't pry and ask what.”
That is kind of him. Jack isn’t half bad.
“And you?” He asks, taking a long drink from his glass. He needs it.
“Just for a good time.” Jack shrugs, returning to his own drink. That sounds nice.
Jack is far from bad company. Somehow, he manages to be just enough of a pest to insert himself into Gabriel’s night, and yet not enough of a pest that Gabriel wants to get rid of him. Truly remarkable, given Gabriels terrible attitude.
“So you’re a….biker gang? Of three?” Gabriel asks, gesturing to the other two members. Cole has his arm around Hanzo’s shoulders, and Hanzo’s face is inches away from Cole’s.
“There’s more of us.” Jack defends, pretending to be offended. “We’re a really big group. A whopping four of us. The law hardly stands a chance.”
Gabriel can hardly contain his laughter at that, hiding his face behind his arm. Why does Jack have to be so damn funny?
“Oh come on.” Jack huffs, crossing his arms. “The police stand no chance against our great numbers. There’s four of us now, and by the looks of it, Cole and Hanzo will be trying for a fifth tonight.”
Gabriel smacks the man's leather clad shoulder, laughing too hard to tell him to shut up. Jack is too funny for either of their good.
Gabriel finishes his drink with the help of Jack, who eats the rest of the fruit from the top of the drink before Gabriel can take them. That's fine with him.
As it gets late, or maybe early, and the bar begins to close, they stumble out of the bar and into the cold night air. Jack still has one of the little paper umbrellas in his hands, and Gabriel’s shirt is still sticky from the alcohol spilled on it.
He glances towards his truck, all the stuff crammed in the back. The papers burn a hole in his pocket.
He had planned to get shit faced and then spend the night in his car in the parking lot. He could wake up when the bar opened and start the process all over again until he didn’t have a dime left to his name.
But Jack is bidding him forward, towards the row of bikes leaned against each other. Cole and Hanzo have already mounted their own bikes, and they are all looking at him now.
Oh, what the hell? He has nothing else left to lose.
Gabriel takes Jack’s hand, letting the blond guide him to his bike.
“Are you having fun?” Jack asks, a mischievous grin on his face. “You look like it. You look beautiful.”
“Don’t flatter me.” Gabriel snorts, looking away from the man. He looks like shit. He’s been drinking for three days straight, only showering for two, and sleeping in his car. And yet, Jack is looking at him like he is the most beautiful thing in the world.
“It’s true.” Jack argues, as he sits on the bike. He takes the cheap little paper umbrella and tucks it behind Gabriel’s ear, trailing his hand down Gabriel’s cheek. Gabriel’s cheeks heat up, and he bites his lip as his heart flutters in his chest. It feels like a kaleidoscope of butterflies have taken flight in his stomach. “You’re gorgeous. At least to me.”
Gabriel shouldn’t be swooning over Jack like it’s some crappy romance novel. Jack isn’t some romance novel love interest that's just looking for the right man to complete him. And, even if he were, Gabriel is not that man. Far from it.
“Come on.” Jack says, patting the seat behind him. “It’s cold out. Let’s find somewhere to crash for the night.”
Gabriel has to agree with that, especially with his shirt being wet and all, so he climbs on the back of Jack’s bike, and they tear out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement.
Jack drives like a man gone mad, racing down the empty street so fast that Gabriel has to cling to him tightly. Gabriel can’t hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears, and the beating of his own heart.
Gabriel has never felt more alive.
Jack veers off the road and into a little motel, the little paper umbrella flies from behind his ear, left behind on the street.
The motel is old, dingy, half the lights have gone out in the front. But the door is open, and the sign boasts vacant rooms, so that is good enough for the night. Certainly beats sleeping in the truck.
The four of them stumble through the doors drunkenly, and Jack hands over a wad of cash in exchange for two room keys. Hanzo and Cole take theirs, and rush off into their room like teenagers in love.
Jack and Gabriel both reach for the keycard at the same time, and his heart hammers as he wrenches it back, as if it had been burned.
“Sorry, you take it.” Gabriel blurts, cheeks heating up. Jack takes the keys from the very confused woman behind the counter, and they giggle their way down the hall like love struck teens.
Somehow, they end up racing down the hallways, not concerned about all the noise they're making. How could he? He's too caught up with the way Jack keeps darting in front of him, trying to cut him off. Such a cheater!
Jack tries to step in front of him again, to force him to slow down, except Gabriel isn't paying enough attention so they collide, tumbling backwards until Gabriels back slams into one of the doors.
At some point during the tumble, Jack ends up standing over Gabriel. He's caught himself on the door, meaning his arms are on either side of him, making it so he can't leave. Not that he would want to.
“It seems I've got you trapped.” Jack grins slyly, looking down at him like he wants to devour Gabriel whole.
“Oh no. Whatever will I do?” Gabriel teases right back, matching his energy. He really hopes that whoever's door this is doesn't mind them seducing each other on it. It's probably fine.
“Well,” Jack purrs, pressing kisses down his chin to his neck. Gabriel doesn't lift a finger to stop him. “How about we take this to the bedroom?”
Gabriel likes the sound of that.