I've Got You On My Radar

Overwatch’s base was quiet this Christmas Eve. Most had gone home for the holidays, seeing as it was one of few chances to see their families throughout the year due to non-stop work. And so the only noises that could be heard in the quarters of Blackwatch were the sounds of warm air pushing through the vents, a Christmas movie playing lowly in the background, and the soft chatter between you and Jesse McCree.

 Neither of you had family to go home and celebrate with. Your family and hometown had been long lost to the Omnic Crisis, no structure or living things still left intact. And McCree hadn’t the slightest of clue of where his parents were. Not that he cared, anyways. His home situation had been so bad that Deadlock had seemed like the best option at the time, and you’d bet that if a Bastion unit had gotten to his parents he’d be one-hundred percent okay with that.

 But none of that mattered anymore. You looked up at your ruggedly handsome cowboy and couldn’t help but think that this is much better than any family gathering. The both of you were wrapped up in fuzzy blankets, only half paying attention to the movie because you were far more engrossed in each other. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, enjoying the warmth surrounding you. The two of you had been childishly arguing about which kind of chocolate was better in hot chocolate because you were about to get up and make some, although you weren’t going to leave his arms if he wouldn’t agree with you.

 “Jesus Christ, Jesse, if we’re not going to agree on chocolate, then how about eggnog?” you suggested. You hoped he wouldn’t be one of those people that fought back about how much they hated eggnog. Nobody needed that kind of holiday negativity in their life.

 “Never had it, sweet pea,” Jesse replied. You gasped audibly, eyes widening ostentatiously. Which was worse, you wondered; someone who hated eggnog, or someone who has never tried eggnog (and by this point in their life definitely should have)? You jumped off of the couch, pulling a pile of blankets off both you and Jesse. He sighed, upset from the sudden loss of warmth. “Now why’d you have to do that? We were all comfy cozy, what’s wrong now?”

 “You’ve never had eggnog before?! That’s changing. Right now,” you said matter-of-factly. Grabbing his hands, you pulled him forcefully from the couch and drug him all the way to the kitchen as he lagged behind. You let go to grab two of your favorite matching mugs you had gotten last Valentine’s Day. Setting them down on the counter, you went to go open fridge to get the jug of eggnog. Except after a minute of staring at the fridge in shock you finally realized there was no eggnog left. And if you couldn’t have eggnog tonight or on Christmas day you accepted the fact you were probably going to die. And that’s when Jesse decided to blurt out, “oh, sorry I forgot to tell ya, but Lena came over yesterday to say g’bye, and before she left she drunk the rest of the eggnog.”

 “I swear, gunslinger, you’re not the only one here who has a fully loaded gun,” you said through gritted teeth. You slammed the fridge door shut and spun around to glare at him. Jesse put his hands up in a playful manner and chuckled. “Easy there, cowgirl. We can make a quick trip to the store now if you’re that upset, okay?”

“What fucking store is open this late on Christmas Eve, Jesse?” You gave him that look, and he only shrugged. “Thought so,” you said snidely. If only you drank some at home yesterday, then you could have made a trip out for more. But you were having a drink at Gabe’s place and ended up having some ther- “Jesse, I got it!”

 “You thought of a place, honey?” he smiled, relieved you had become significantly less violent. Unfortunately, your idea wasn’t any less worse.

 “Yea, Gabe’s room! He has some!” Your boyfriend raised an eyebrow. “Doll, Gabe is gone for the rest of the month. How are we supposed to-“

 “We’re gonna break in!” you answered his unfinished question, probably a little too enthusiastically. He opened his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off. “You’re the one who sacrificed the rest of my eggnog, and you’re going to be the one that fixes that.”

 Jesse leaned back on the kitchen counter, seemingly in thought. Probably trying to think of a way to convince you this is, indeed, a terrible idea. I mean, what sane human being risks breaking into their boss’s room for something like eggnog? “And how do ya suppose we do that?”

 “You can pick locks, can’t you? Aren’t you supposed to be a pro at that stuff?” you ask. “That’s the kind of stuff I did back in my Deadlock days,” Jesse responded, reluctance in his eyes. But when you pouted your lips, a little of that disappeared.

 “One more time? For me?” you begged. The cowboy rested his hand on his forward. He was defeated. Hopefully there weren’t cameras, and hopefully nobody would check them after the holidays if there were. “One more time. For you, sugar.”

 And that’s how you found your way to the doorstep of your boss’s quarters with some assorted metal tools from Torbjorn’s workshop in one hand and your boyfriend’s fingers laced between the other. “You sure you wanna go through this? All for th’sake of some eggnog?” he asked. You nodded.

 “Not just for the sake of drinking some eggnog, but for the sake of you trying some. Believe me Jesse --- you have not lived until you have,” you teased, handing him the tools. “Get to work, partner.”

 It didn’t take long for him to undo the door, fingers moving deftly. As much as you wanted the eggnog, you’d love to feel his fingers work like that on you. But the door clicked open and you left those thoughts behind for the moment. “Ladies first,” he winked. You quickly made your way to through his living space like you owned the place, and Jesse followed behind. As soon as you spotted the fridge, you scurried across the kitchen floor and opened it up, revealing you beloved eggnog. As you pulled it out, you looked at Jesse. He was smiling at how happy you seemed for something so small. “Thanks, cowboy,” you winked. Suddenly, you found him pressing you back on the counter, and he took the jug out of your hands and set it aside.

 “I know another way you could thank me, honey,” he whispered into your ear. You giggled. “Want some eggnog?” you teased.

 “Oh, I want somethin’ a little sweeter than that,” he muttered, voice low, sending shivers up your spine. He instantly presses his rough lips to your soft ones, holding you prisoner in his kiss as his hands move low. Very low. “Jesse, let’s finish this back home. You were opposed to coming here in the first place, right?” He wasn’t about to do this with you in your boss’s kitchen. . . was he?

 “It was your idea to break in here, angel. Can’t leave without getting a proper thank you, now can I?”