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Apart from their missions, there was one more thing Commander Gabriel Reyes took charge of: the safehouse kitchen.
He would claim it was because he had no other choice. The cyborg had been so spoiled in his former life that while he could carve the heart out of a man’s chest with surgical precision, he did not know how to dice an onion. McCree, from the complete opposite of that spectrum, had been so neglected he lived on canned foods and cereal by default, and any attempt at him cooking by himself would poison them by accident while on a bad day, Moira would poison them on purpose — Reyes didn’t want to take any chances there. Also, she was Irish and therefore genuinely considered salt to be a spice. He couldn’t have that argument with her again without risking an aneurysm.
While he claimed it was pure necessity, truthfully he quite enjoyed cooking. He was good at it, and it gave him something to do in the excessive free time they had while waiting for the right time to make a move on their targets. McCree helped out sometimes, and Moira made it a point to be in the kitchen as well when that happened, probably because she found their bickering entertaining. You had to keep yourself occupied somehow.
“What kind of measurement is a fucking ‘swig’ supposed to be?”
“It’s a feeling, you take the carton, you pour some in, like this… yeah that seems enough… stir it, taste it, and if it’s not right yet you add a bit more. Next time you’ll know you need a bigger swig.”
“Ever heard of a measuring cup?”
“Haven’t needed one of those in years, I work on muscle memory.”
or
“So how long will it be in the oven?”
“20 to 30 minutes. Sometimes longer”
“I love your clear instructions.”
“You’ll know when it smells right.”
“I don’t know what it’s supposed to smell like!”
and
“I’m pretty sure that’s enough cheese now.”
“It’s never enough cheese, Jesse, have I taught you absolutely nothing?”
-
When they were camped up for too long though, it started wearing on them. Moira complained about Reyes’s snoring, which he denied doing in the first place. If he snored, it could not have been more disturbing than McCree’s sleep-talking, which he always did loudly as if in mid-conversation. Usually, the nonsense that sleep-talking people brought forth was just odd or funny. In Jesse’s case, it was always some really messed up stuff that did make Reyes concerned about his general mental state.
’Hey… hey… do you see how many eyes that thing has…?’
‘Don’t go in there, ma’am. It’s where I died.’
‘Wow. That is sooo much blood.’ Followed by an actual chuckle. It was plain disturbing. Jesse swore he had no idea how he came up with that and that all his dreams were perfectly pleasant. Which was most likely a lie, but Reyes didn’t pressure him about it.
There was also his incessant smoking habit, but the one time they had had to live with McCree on serious nicotine withdrawal had made them all stop complaining about it forever.
Moira thought the kitchen table was the best place for a manicure, even though the sound of her nail file drove Reyes up the walls. Yet, no matter how many of them he broke and threw out when she wasn’t looking, she always seemed to have one extra that she pulled from her little case without so much as mentioning the missing one. To kill the time, she liked to conduct experiments in her room that, wisely, none of them ever set foot in. Reyes hadn’t questioned it until he had caught her plucking some hairs from Jesse’s hair brush, which had required him to enforce a ‘No DNA sampling’ rule, so that was a new one.
She had actually asked him whether it still counted if someone would willingly let her do a mouth swab, or better yet, take a blood sample, and no aspect of his military training had prepared him for that discussion.
Genji… well, Genji really had the least annoying habits of all of them. Rather, his entire presence could be intense and therefore unnerving. He followed Reyes obediently enough, yet he always felt wound up too tight, like a string that could snap at any minute. Reyes didn’t know if Genji ever really slept, either. Where the cyborg was concerned, he could just be staring at them through the dark, plotting their gruesome deaths in minute detail. Or maybe that was just Gabriel being his low-key paranoid self.
Reyes and McCree had found a way to deal with that kind of cabin fever though. It did not call for any spectators though, so thankfully being the head chef of their little club house just made it easier to find a way to escape.
-
“I’m going to the warehouse, stock up on some things. You wanna come?” Reyes offhandedly asked the younger man, who made a bit of a show about stretching his long limbs.
“Yea why not, let’s see another room with four walls for a change,” McCree sighed.
Neither Moira nor Genji paid them any mind, though. The one thing they did seem to bond over were Moira’s weird anime shows, and they were currently engrossed in yet another episode of ‘Gay Vampires’. Which was what Reyes called it at least. A whole bunch of men with too long hair who were either half naked or dressed in Victorian chichi, who then also engaged in a lot of recreational bloodshed. Usually in a very homoerotic way. He was the first to admit that he didn’t really understand the plot. Sometimes Reyes wondered whether the cyborg was actually into that too or whether he just liked it because Moira put on the subbed version and he finally got to hear his own native language for a change, instead of having to struggle with theirs. He never asked, he really didn’t want to know anyway.
Genji hummed something that basically said “I recognized you were talking but I wasn’t actually listening” and Moira waved at them without looking away from the screen. So for all those two cared, he and McCree could have just left without another word. Even better.
The warehouse was just a deposit for units stationed in nearby safehouses, because the entire point of living in one was to not just march into the next supermarket and leave a trail on security cameras and payment devices. McCree followed him down to the garage and into the car. The model was completely unremarkable, and since tinted windows had become more and more popular, that wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye either. That way they could get pretty much unnoticed from their remoten safehouse to their remoten warehouse and never actually show up on anyone’s radar.
“You come prepared?” Reyes asked as soon as they were out on the streets, and he didn’t need to look to know Jesse was smirking.
“Of course, boss.” There was a sultry, teasing tone to the man’s usual drawl that went straight to Reyes’ cock. Now that they were alone he didn’t even pretend like that wasn’t the case anymore. “Those cartoon twinks Moira likes to watch got you in a mood, or what?”
Reyes scoffed. “You couldn’t lock me up long enough to get off on that.”
Next to him, McCree chuckled. “Good, thought you’d ask me to wear these frilly-ass cravats next.” Big words coming from someone who wore a cowboy hat and spurs unironically.
A haughty grin spread on Reyes’ face. “If I wanted you to wear one of those, I wouldn’t ask you, I’d just make you,” he clarified, and while McCree barked out a laugh at that, he didn’t protest the notion in any way. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see McCree shift, trying to adjust himself in his jeans. Yea, this little ‘get-together’ was long overdue. Reyes stepped harder on the gas pedal.
-
As soon as the heavy metal door of the warehouse slid shut behind them, McCree was in his space, urging him backwards until Reyes was caught between him and a stack of boxes wrapped in plastic foil. He didn’t mind letting the younger man think that for a minute he had control over any of this - it just made the tension grow between them. Reyes licked his lips in anticipation when McCree pressed his body flush against his with a soft moan, arousal flashing in the hazel eyes looking down at him. Yea, this should be good.
Not for the first time, Reyes wondered when that lanky kid he had snatched from an interrogation room years ago had grown into… well, all of that. Broad chest and strong arms, thighs so thick they begged to sink your teeth into them. As if he had picked up a puppy from the pound only to find it growing into a 100lbs dog that now took up the entire couch. The change had been so gradual, Reyes couldn’t pinpoint when it had started. He did remember the first time he had suddenly been very aware of it, though. Remembered as best as he could, anyway, something with McCree’s 25th birthday and an expensive bottle of tequila they had shared.
‘Who’d have thought you’d make it to 25, kid,’ Reyes had said, and McCree had just grinned.
‘You need to stop calling me that, I’m hardly a kid anymore.’
And Reyes had looked at Jesse, at the way his shirt stretched across his chest and biceps, the soft beard on the formerly clean face, and saw that he was right. For the rest of the night he had been busy finding more and more evidence of that statement.
“So, boss…” The prominent bulge in his jeans pressed into Gabriel’s own, making the older man growl low in his throat. “What’s that itch you need scratched?”
Figuring they had no time to waste anymore, Reyes slid his hands between their bodies, wrestling open his pants. McCree could fiddle with his own stupidly oversized belt buckle by himself. He pushed the younger man away just enough to turn himself around, unceremoniously pulling down his pants and underwear to his knees.
“Get your tongue inside of me,” Reyes ordered, slipping into the tone of command with well-practiced ease. Behind him, Jesse made a sound like someone had punched him in the stomach. If being punched in the stomach was something pleasant.
“Yea, yea, okay, fuck…” he cursed, his cocksure demenour breaking like glass. Reyes loved doing that to him way too much. Hungry lips found Reyes’ neck first, trailing over his shoulder while two warm hands slipped underneath his shirt. With well-practiced, firm touches McCree stroked across his stomach, pushing the shirt up to grab at his chest and bury his fingers into the thick hair there. Reyes could feel the rough cloth of his jeans and the cold metal of his belt buckle against his naked ass, allowing himself to lavish in the attention for a moment - after all, McCree liked to do a job he was given well and thoroughly, giving them both a little warm-up before finally dropping to his knees, running his hands over the curve of Gabriel’s ass cheeks appreciatively.
It still sent a shiver down Reyes’ spine when McCree exposed him to the cool air, but in the next moment a warm tongue licked across his taint in a broad stripe. He barely bit back a groan when it finally lapped at his hole, hungry and eager. Jesse’s moans vibrated against his sensitive skin while Reyes just basked in the sensation. If McCree’s massive oral fixation was good for anything, it was exactly that - eating him out like that was their final day on earth and Reyes was his last meal. Over the buzzing in his ears, Gabriel didn’t hear the younger man fumble his belt and zipper open, nor would he have cared to. He was in blissful heaven where nothing existed but the curious tongue licking him open, causing the heat to rush through his body and center in his flushed cock.
It was only his own impatience that finally made him reach back and grab a fistful of McCree’s hair to pull him off. Jesse would probably have continued for another hour, if Gabriel wanted him to.
“Let’s get a move on, cowboy, we don’t have all day.”
He could hear Jesse panting softly, his jacket rustling as he pulled forth a condom and a small bottle of lube that landed in Reyes’ hand. Preparation was key, they had learned that one quickly enough. Then Jesse finally slipped the leather jacket off, thoughtlessly discarding it while Reyes was already busy bringing slick fingers to his own entrance. He made quick work of it, muffled groans mixing with Jesse’s heated curses who undoubtedly watched while he hurried to get the condom on.
“You sure you’re good?” he even asked when Gabriel removed his fingers, putting more weight forward on his arms planted on the sturdy boxes.
“I’m not the fucking Virgin Mary, go on.”
He could feel one of McCree’s broad hands grab him by the hip, holding him still as that deliciously thick cock slid between his cheeks, rocking against him once, twice, before the head of it finally nudged against his hole and pressed inside. Gabriel hissed through the stretch, fingers grabbing dusty plastic, but he could feel his own cock twitch between his legs because fuck if it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.
If the noises falling from McCree’s lips were anything to go by, he agreed.
They were both panting when Jesse finally bottomed out, hip bones pressing into Gabriel’s ass, flushed and sweaty under the barely discarded clothes. McCree’s free hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and then he was finally taking Reyes on the ride. He easily fell into a solid rhythm that had the older man groaning and cursing under his breath and his toes curling in his boots. This wasn’t gonna last long, he knew, but they weren’t here for a romantic retreat and the gentle discovery of each other’s bodies. They were here to get rid of all the pent up frustration that came with being stuck together and being all into each other’s business for too long; they had found that a quick, hard fuck was a very effective way of dealing with it.
McCree had gotten worked up so quickly, too. It came with having too much time to think, so your imagination ran wild all day, as well as his young age. Reyes dimly remembered being the same in his 20’s.
The grip McCree had on Gabriel’s hip tightened as the other released his shirt in order to slip around his chest. He could feel McCree’s hot breath wash against his nape. “Fuck… fuck, I think I’m gonna come…” the younger man moaned.
Reyes just growled, reaching behind him to get his hand into that shaggy hair once more and tugged, hard. The startled yelp he got in response made his cock jump. “Don’t you dare come before I do,” he growled, and McCree groaned in something that was both arousal and disbelief.
To his credit, McCree did keep up his rhythm - always so eager to please, whether he admitted it or not, and it made Reyes’ blood boil to witness it in all its intensity. He could feel calloused fingers digging into his flesh, blunt nails grazing against his skin while McCree continued to fuck into him with deep, steady thrusts, every movement sending a new wave of heat through him.
Reyes wrapped a hand around his own leaking cock when McCree finally started to crack. He was trying so hard to hold on, to keep going for just a bit longer, his moans turned into honest to God whines, broken only by the occasional curse. “I can’t… I can’t… fuck…”
Gabriel wished he could lap up the desperation in his voice like cream. “Yes you can, I know you can Jesse.” Every good commander knew when to give an order, and when to hand out praise - and the sudden softness in Reyes’ strained voice made Jesse sob helplessly into his shoulder and yet rut against him even more fiercely as if to prove it to both of them, even though his moans sounded completely wrecked, and that finally did it for Gabriel.
His orgasm knocked the breath from his lungs, making him clench around the thick cock buried in his ass, and that was all the permission Jesse needed in turn. He managed two, three more stuttering thrusts before he came buried deep in the older man's body, moaning and cursing all the way through it. "Fuck... oh fuck.... thanks boss..."
Reyes' spent cock twitched lazily in his hand as those words slipped so mindlessly from Jesse's lips, hoarse and dark against his ear. "Good boy," he chuckled, raspy and satisfied as he gave McCree's shaggy mane a last tug, gentler this time. He was rewarded with a deep, content hum at his nape where Jesse was nuzzling his face against sweaty skin. Gabriel let him proceed - the younger man always liked to bask in the sensation of post-coital, blissful numbness to the rest of the world. They'd never find themselves in the kind of lover's embrace that was entangled limbs and soft kisses and being content to just breathe the same air for hours. They got this, a minute or two of leaning into each other and breathing in the same rhythm, fingers digging into scarred skin as if to remember details for lonely, empty hours yet to come. It was enough for them.
Finally, reality seeped back, and with a deep sigh McCree pried himself off, shaking his head to get rid of the remaining haziness like a dog who shook himself dry. Gabriel tucked himself back in and turned, snorting with unsurprised amusement to find Jesse lighting a rather squashed cigarette without having bothered to pull up his pants or even slip off the condom. He always liked men who had their priorities straight.
McCree took two deep drags before offering it to Reyes. Gabriel wasn't usually a smoker - where he was concerned it was a waste of money and perfectly fine lung tissue. It had become part of their little ritual though, and Gabriel couldn't deny that there was something oddly satisfying about having a smoke after a good fuck.
Jesse finally pulled the used rubber off his dick, chuckling as he carefully tied it off. "You think Moira would want a sample of that?"
Reyes’ laughter was just a harsh bark. "I wish I could confidently say no, but I wouldn't put anything past that woman."
"What, you reckon she's gonna whip up some genetically mutated clones of me?" Jesse joked while pulling up his pants and grabbing his discarded jacket.
"Do me a favor and don't give her any ideas." Gabriel handed him the almost burnt down cigarette for a last drag, before walking to the passenger side of the car. He tossed Jesse the car keys, who caught them with well practiced ease.
It was that smooth transition, from rutting like animals in the bushes back to their usual selves as teammates that made Reyes okay with their arrangement. They had talked about it. Once. Right after their first very drunken hook-up, when Reyes had been convinced that he had majorly fucked up, because you did not screw around with your subordinates. Much less with Jesse, of all people, because the one thing they did not need in their relationship was the kid developing feelings or romantic hopes for him. That was just bound to cause troubles.
That one time though, he had underestimated McCree. He remembered it all too well, the grimace on Jesse’s face that was stuck between a grin and confusion as he had looked up at his commander, lazily scratching at his naked stomach. “Listen, boss-” That familiar drawl that sounded much like he had to suppress his laughter. “Don’t worry. I’m no fool, I know what this is and what it isn’t. You wanna blow off some steam, fine, I can do that. If you wanna hold hands in the moonlight and get lost in each other’s eyes or some of that shit they write novels about, you’re gonna have to look for someone else.”
There was a lot of truth to it, Gabriel had recognized in that moment. Sure, McCree was popular with people completely regardless of gender. He had that kind of easy going charm that opened him a lot of doors and probably hearts as well, and yet he had never once stuck around with anyone. Never seemed to have any intentions of settling down. When Reyes called for them to move on, he followed without protest and barely so much as a ‘see you around, sweetheart.’ His loyalty lay with the mission and the commander who was in charge of it, and if he protested against Reyes’ decisions, it was never on behalf of a lover he had to leave behind. So them getting each other off occasionally else was just a bonus in their relationship, really, and Reyes had stopped feeling guilty about it fairly quickly because Jesse never gave him any reason to regret it.
Jack would have his head for it though, Gabriel thought not for the first time as he slipped into the passenger seat and luxuriously stretched out his aching muscles. But Jack and his superior moral compass weren't here, so Gabriel just forced the thought back into the same space he kept all the decisions that Jack didn't need to know about. It was getting rather cramped in there.
Those were all problems for future him, he figured. He had chosen his path, and he felt no remorse about it. Not now anyway, with his body still buzzing contentedly and McCree quietly humming along to the radio, bringing him back to their safehouse. Where they would wait to strike and take down another asshole who deemed himself too powerful and influential to be brought to justice.
They’d see about that.