Crashing Waves

[deerna]

Rating: SAFE | General Audiences
Fandom: Overwatch
Relationship: Jack Morrison/Gabriel Reyes
Tags: Angst, Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Slash, Bitter ending, Overwatch golden era
Wordcount: 841
Notes: aka, The One Where Kasi Get Murdered. This is not a happy story. It doesn't have a happy ending.
Apologies to Kasi, I didn't mean to murder you ♥ Remember I love youuuu

Summary:

Excerpt:

“You feeling any better?” Gabriel asked, looking at the new picture. He kinda liked the other one more still, even though the light wasn’t the best and Jack was frowning, but the goofy smile and the embarrassed pose in this one was nice, too.

“I still might throw up on Petra’s shoes if he looks at me wrong, but it’s a significantly lower percentage than earlier.” Jack sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were right though, the fresh air did me good.”

{ read on AO3 | reblog on tumblr }

“Hey, Morrison!”

Hearing his name being called, Jack looked over his shoulder to look at Gabriel, a slightly puzzled frown on his brow. Gabriel smiled, phone raised, and snapped a quick picture, the fake shutter sound playing loudly even over the waves crashing against the rocks beneath them.

Jack’s frown turned into a scowl. “What are you taking pictures for?”

“Oh, you know.” Gabriel opened the gallery app to look at the photo. The new coat looked great on Jack; the blue blended with the sea behind him and was in sharp contrast with the yellow-gold blond of his hair. Gabriel couldn’t quite see it from the picture, but he knew that up close his eyes looked even more blue than his usual grey-ish cornflower shade. He didn’t like much the tension running up his spine and the line of his shoulders, but it was still quite a striking picture. “Now that you’re Strike Commander we won’t be seeing each other so often. I need something to remember your ugly mug by.”

Jack’s expression softened, tense posture slumping a little. “You know we’re going to video-report to each other more often than not, right? Commander Reyes?”

“Maybe so. I still want a picture for my office, though. One where you don’t look drunk off your ass.” Jack snorted half a laughter as Gabriel swiped at his phone, opening the camera app once again. “You should pose for this one, so I can print it in high definition, have you sign it and sell if in a few years. Bet I could make a pretty credit out of it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Jack scolded him, but he was smiling a real smile. He even walked a bit towards the storage unit at the back so that the sun wasn’t behind him, before striking a somewhat awkward pose.

Gabriel grinned and captured a couple shots. “I’m rich!” he crowed, triumphant.

Jack laughed.

“You feeling any better?” Gabriel asked, looking at the new picture. He kinda liked the other one more still, even though the light wasn’t the best and Jack was frowning, but the goofy smile and the embarrassed pose in this one was nice, too.

“I still might throw up on Petra’s shoes if he looks at me wrong, but it’s a significantly lower percentage than earlier.” Jack sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were right though, the fresh air did me good.”

“I’m glad. I always found that salt water smell comforting,” Gabriel confessed, turning towards the sea. The Strait of Gibraltar wasn’t exactly the West Coast Ocean, but it still smelled like home. “Still better than that micro-filtered purified ex-sweat miasma they pass for air, anyway.”

“Stop being gross, I’m still vaguely nauseous,” Jack jokingly threatened him, walking closer to bump his shoulder against Gabriel’s. “I don’t know why this seems so much harder than blowing up an Omnium with a malfunctioning pulse rifle and and ancient cellphone.”

“Because omnics don’t frown at you when you put a foot in your mouth on national television.” Gabriel laughed at Jack’s grimace. “Relax, you’ll be fine. You just need to smile a lot and let your boy scout charm shine through. You have all the time to learn how to do this, in the meanwhile. It’s just an adjustment period. It’ll get easier with time.”

Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, reassuring. Jack covered it with his, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy breath, shaky and wet. Gabriel ignored the way his heart stuttered in his chest, the warmth spreading in his gut. “See, this is why you should’ve been Strike Commander, and not me. You seem to always know what to say, what to do. I’ve always worked better on the backlines. Following orders, offering support. Not... this.”

“You would hate my current job even more than you hate being Strike Commander,” Gabriel reminded him, shaking him gently. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else in your position, and you wouldn’t trust anyone else in mine, either. This is the best solution for every party involved. It could’ve been worse. Besides, I look terrible in blue, at least you look half-decent in it.”

Jack smiled, amused. It was uncertain, but it was there. Score. "I guess I better get used to it.” Jack let out another sigh, and took a deep breath, clearly psyching himself up. “Thank you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel smiled. “You’re welcome."

“I really couldn’t do this without you.” Jack looked at him, suddenly serious and intense like Gabriel had never seen him before.

Gabriel swallowed, brain scrambling to turn that moment into a joke, and failing miserably. The hand on Jack’s neck suddenly felt really sweaty. “Jack-”

“In our position, we can say that we’re lucky to be each other’s best friend.”

And just like that, the tension was broken. Shards of ice stabbed every inch of Gabriel’s skin, as he forced a smile on his face.

He couldn’t hear his own answer against the waves and the blood rushing in his ears.