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If there was anything more annoying than fucking extroverts, Gabriel Reyes didn't know what it was.
Not that this was surprising for a man of his character. He wasn't what you would call a “people person.” He had perfected his human-repellant scowl years ago and it had proven effective for keeping anyone too nosy off his back. It helped him command respect, helped keep teammates at an arm's length. It kept away small talk and allowed him to keep an eye on everyone all at once.
But damn those fucking irritating energetic extroverts .
Since joining Overwatch, he couldn't help but notice the place was crawling with them. Angela, Torbjorn, Reinhardt, Lena… all of them were people magnets. They attracted attention, they soaked up the crowds and praise, they fell in love with the idea of what Overwatch could be instead of focusing on the grim reality of what it actually was. It was a blissful existence, a happy one, an exuberant one.
And God if it didn't piss him the hell off.
It was like nobody here really thought they had a job to do. Or maybe they just didn't care. Either way, the headaches were always there, and they constantly persisted. He had told them to piss off more than once when they got too rowdy, but Lena just considered him a “ fun - sucker ”, whatever weird old era that line had come from. Not that he denied it; when they were on the job they had to be soldiers. He was well within his rights as a commanding officer to tell them to shape up or ship out.
This particular instance, however, was off-the-clock. Just some evening shenanigans while they waited to get their next objective. A drinking game Reinhardt had thought up that had turned loud and competitive. And since it was off-hours… well Reyes just stood in the corner, grinding his teeth and bearing through it. He couldn't stop them, but he could sure as hell refuse to participate with those goons he called squad mates.
Currently, he was watching from the sidelines, hoodie up to keep out the cold, while the engineer and the hardened veteran went all out against Lena in a game of cards. Ana was cheering them on, making obscene gestures at Torbjorn. Gabriel couldn't have rolled his eyes harder if he had tried. Good thing the girl isn't here to see her mother acting considerably unmotherly, he smirked to himself, watching the antics unfold. However, once Lena started shouting, his ears had decided they had had enough. Despite his growing headache though, he hesitated on leaving. Shifting his weight to his other foot and leaning against his other hip, he did his best to discreetly get the attention of a single, specific individual.
Jack Morrison.
He was down there, clearly more sober than the rest of the team was, but laughing along nonetheless. His grin was warm and easy to focus on but that alone made Reyes’ stomach twist uncontrollably. It was stupid but he was mad at that charming smile - especially right now.
Jack had the pleasure of being everything Reyes hated and loved in a person...all wrapped into one. He had the seriousness one would need in a soldier. A willingness to go the extra mile, work hard, take risks, do what needed to be done. He knew how to shape up and ship out. He put his back into it. On the field, he was no-nonsense-- Reyes liked that about him. Hell, he would even go as far as saying they were some of his most invaluable qualities and what made him perfect leader material.
It was everything else about Jack that irrationally pissed Reyes off.
Morrison was not a people person, but a people pleaser. He charmed and soothed and was relatable. He was warm. He was a pretty face with a pretty mouth that made the girls swoon and made him the perfect poster boy for Overwatch. The complete package, one would say. And hell be damned if it wasn't effective.
Reyes hated it all because fucking hell, it felt like it was voodoo magic. Country boy Jack made everyone love him without even trying. The only problem was he did try; he always exceeded expectations. And hell, if he hadn't known Jack since before the beginning of this clown show they started together, he probably would have just straight up hated the man. Just hated and cursed and snarled at his pretty face, his popularity, his easy eyes and his soft smile. Not that he hadn't done that when they first met anyway-- trading blows and making mountains out of molehills-- but it had evened out. If what you wanted to call what they did now as “even”.
In the end, it helped that Reyes knew Jack. He knew the man underneath the charm and the show. He was a good boy scout alright, and that's what made him a great strike commander. But Reyes knew.
Jack was a little shit worse than all the rest of them. He was a daredevil, had more broken bones than anyone in the program, and didn't know when to quit, even if it almost killed him. He pulled pranks, had a short fuse, boundless energy, got too cocky.
The difference is that Jack knew when to pull it in, when to keep the passion thrumming deep down inside, knew when to be in control. None of these laughing hyenas had any semblance of that; Jack had mastered it a long time ago. He knew when to don the mask.
it was this smiling mask that Jack reserved for the rowdy group tonight, making it look like the most natural thing in the world. It was so convincing that Reyes could feel himself being fooled by it, and it dug at him more than he would like to admit. It was so easy for them to be charmed; just another reason to hope he wasn't among them.
In the end, Gabriel wanted Jack to have fun more than he cared about using his feelings to disrupt the party. So, he shifted again, making to leave the mess hall behind but never taking his eyes off the strike commander. As soon as Jack's clear gaze shifted to him though, he glanced away, and trotted out to give himself some much needed air. Gibraltar always had a nice view; at night the lights shone off the water and the crashing waves beat out a consistent rhythm. It reminded him of home, even if the weather was cooler and the water unfit for any kind of swimming. He went out to the ledge of the loading bay, leaning over the railing, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze across his face.
Gabriel knew it wouldn't take long, but that didn't stop the coil of doubt deep in the pit of his stomach . He won't come to you, you pinche idiota. He’s got better people, better things than you. One day he’ll figure that out, like you have. One day he’ll--
“Hey.”
Reyes shifted, half turning towards the sound of the greeting. He could just make out Jack’s face around the edge of his hoodie, the way the moon lit him up on a pale light, shining off his usually-flaxen hair.
"Eres insoportablemente bello, Jack," he mused back, a smirk playing over his lips. Jack just rolled his eyes and closed the remaining distance between them, shaking his head.
“You know I know exactly what you just said, right?”
Gabriel just cocked his head to the side.
“Oh really? So you knew I was calling you a bitch-faced motherfucker, then? You're catching on finally, my abuelita would be so proud.” The country boy shoved his shoulder and Gabe’s smirk grew bigger.
“Better not give me too much shit, Reyes, you know I'll just dish it right back.”
“Hmmm, just like you can dish out your insults, Morrison. Better stand down now, we both know I can win this battle in not one, but two languages.”
“Terrible puns don't count, Gabe.”
Gabe studied Jack carefully, eyes lingering on the details—on the way his skin was so perfect, the jaw so finely set—and tried to reconcile how he had let some white-ass farmer’s boy from Indiana catch his gaze. If Jack caught the expression on his face, he didn't mention it, but an interesting air fell between them. Doing his best to dispel it Gabriel tilted his head playfully.
“What's the matter, commander, can't Reyes to the occasion?”
“Oh lord, please, Gabriel-”
“Come on, there's Morrison where that came from-”
“I swear to your fucking grave I will throw you off this cliff and make you swim back to the east coast if you don't -”
“Take it easy, Jack! Or soon you’ll be drowning in a sea of-”
He didn't get to finish the line. Morrison made a loud, irritated huff, and pulled the hoodie together by the strings and over Gabe’s face. They then wrestled and grappled, Reye’s deep laughter and Jack’s loud complaining only punctuated by the waves below. Things between them always ended up like this in some shape or form. They would bicker and banter, they would grapple and fight, and then, and then…
They would reach a stopping point. A section where they were breathless; where they were at a standstill, with by choice or force of being each other's opponents; where their laughs and shouts would turn into something more quiet, more private, more intimate. It happened in this moment too, with Reyes’ holding Jack in a headlock, their heads close, panting out exchanged air. Reyes definitely felt the shift in the air this time; knowing he only had to close the gap by a few inches, he flashed Jack a wicked grin.
That was about the moment Ana decided to stick her head out the door. She looked around and frowned the two of them, raising an eyebrow as they sprang apart like jackrabbits.
“Hey, Jack! Reyes! what are you boys doing? Get in here! Bids are getting high on who will win: Torbjorn’s metal arm or Reinhardt’s regular one!” Her words were thick with spirits, but they sobered Reyes up quick. His hands returned to the front pocket on his hoodie, and his scowl took its rightful place underneath his goatee. When Jack faced him though, it was impossible for even his own hardened mask to not soften.
“You think you're gonna go back inside?” Jack offered gently. Gabe just shook his head, fixing Jack with a knowing look.
“You know me, Jack. I’m the death of every party.”
And though he could see Morrison's smile, Gabe could also see the sparkle of disappointment in his eye. It stung like hell . He knew Jack wanted him there, saw it written all over his face in that silent language they shared.
It's unbearable for me in there without you too, you know.
Reyes’ small smile would send back the same somber message.
Y eah, I know.
He would never say it then, but that subtle look of sadness made Reyes’ heart flutter. Simply knowing that while Jack had his friends, he meant more. It dispelled the negative thoughts, the disruptive background noise just long enough for him to remember that he was Jack's number one. And for Reyes?
There had never been nor would there ever be a soul that would mean so much to him.
“See you later, then?” Jack's response was quick, effortless, practically rehearsed. It pulled a grin out of both of them.
“Yeah, I’ll catch you later, boy scout.”
And with hardly a look back they parted:Jack heading back to the party and Reyes retreating to his room for the night. Gabe was lucky enough - and high up the chain enough - that he could afford his own space and didn't have to sleep down with everyone else in the crowded quarters.Jack had his own room as well, not that he ever used it much. He was more likely down with the crew, in the mess hall, or other places that he probably would get into trouble for if he was found there after hours.
Reyes knew he wouldn’t have to wait long.
He was still awake when he heard Jack slip in an hour later. He didn't move from his spot on the bed when he heard the man quietly open the door and sigh out of his day clothes. He didn't turn to face him when he felt him pull back the sheets next to him nor when he felt the solid, warm presence of Jack pressed up against and wrapped around him. Jack nestled in close and he pressed his face into Gabe's neck with a satisfied hum. A smile pulled at his lips. Gabe knew that eventually one of them would get warm, or uncomfortable, or irritated, but not now, not yet. In this moment, they shared the bed, nary a breath separating them.
Gabriel Reyes was not a people person. He hated crowds, he hated ceremonies, he hated the pomp and circumstance, and he hated the hustle and bustle of everyone's emotions.
Just a person smitten by the daredevil charmer from Indiana, whose broken more bones than the media would ever disclose, yelled at more ingrates than the boss would ever reveal, and been closer to Gabe's heart than anyone else ever would be.
He was just a Jack Morrison kind of person.
God, he thought to himself as he finally rolled over. A huff of laughter escaped Jack as their lips finally came together.
This man is gonna be the death of me.