Chapter Text
“This is so fucking ridiculous," you muttered, frowning at your reflection in the mirror.
You wore a red velvet corset, trimmed in gold and laced up the front and back with black silk ribbons. It barely covered your pushed up breasts. So beneath it, you wore a black lace bra. A ruffled, black lace skirt barely grazed your upper thighs.
“Fuck stupid-ass sex parties,” you scowled, “And fuck you especially, Gabriel."
"See, now you're just being difficult for difficult's sake," he chuckled.
"Except I'm not the one who picked this out," you tossed back. "Still don’t see why you and Jack couldn't run this undercover mission together on your own. He’s your other half after all.”
“And you’re my other half too,” Gabriel nodded from where he sat sprawled out on the couch behind you. Dressed in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, he was at ease. You were both in the bedroom of his quarters at the newly renovated Watchpoint Gibraltar. “So, there’s the three of us.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “Jack would be lost without you, as would I-”
“At least the two of you have good taste in something,” Gabe smugly retorted.
You snatched a half-filled water bottle from the dressing table and tossed it at him. Of course, his ungodly reflexes snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the head. “Half plus half is a duo, not a trinity, Gabe.”
"Still doesn't mean you two shouldn't get to know each other better," he shrugged. "Trust me, Jack doesn't hate you. Not even close."
"I've never thought that he does. But it's not like we have much in common," you turned around in the mirror. Jesus Christ, your ass was nearly hanging out from under the skirt. Thank god you wore a pair of black lace panties to cover it. “Not that either of us care,” you breezily continued, “We’re just glad you’re happy to share.”
“What can I say?” he drawled, “I’ve always been accused of being greedy.” However, his thoughtful expression made you pause and stare at him in the reflection of the mirror.
Finally catching your gaze, a smirk flew to his face. It made you nearly march over to slap it off of him. Not that you’d be successful. Even before the fallout at Swiss Headquarters, the man moved far too fast for an average human like you to match. But in his current, stabilized, and far less painful but still wraith form? It was virtually impossible to get the drop on him. So you settled for throwing up a middle finger. It only made his smirk widen into a smile.
“Like I said,” you grumpily retorted, "Go fuck yourself, Gabe." Setting a foot on the chair next to you, you pulled on your fishnet thigh-highs.
“It’ll be especially memorable since I’ll be thinking about you in that get-up,” he smoothly retorted. His hand dropped to his thigh as he continued, “Though I wonder how wet I can get you while stripping you out of it, piece by piece?”
Heat licked along you at the images suddenly flashing in your mind. The feel of his rough hands sliding over your skin. His hungry gaze locked with yours as he kissed his way downwards while slowly undoing the ties of the corset. His head between your legs as he shoved your stocking clad thighs over his broad shoulders. Him roughly fucking you from behind while his other fingers danced over your clit.
The third time he called your name, your head jerked upwards. “You seem,” he tilted his head at you, "Distracted."
“Just…trying to clip on these garters,” you swallowed before letting out a loud sigh. “Jack is going to be pretty embarrassed by this,” you changed the subject, “For fuck’s sake, I’m half-naked.”
Gabriel shrugged, “You’d be surprised at how filthy the farm boy can be.”
You gave him a look of disbelief. “Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“All you have to do is look hard enough,” Gabriel murmured.
“Well,” you turned back to the mirror to begin applying your makeup, “You’ve known him far longer than I have”
Thank God for it. As it was the only way the two reached a truce after Swiss Headquarters’ destruction. Unfortunately, it took them years to realize they were after the same thing; finding out who was truly responsible for the fall of Overwatch.
The final years of Overwatch weren’t kind to Gabriel. Or much of the old guard who remained. The media played up the broken relationship of golden boy Jack Morrison and surly, bitter Gabriel Reyes as the reason for its end. But that proved only a small part of it.
Gabriel had grown to suspect Talon’s infiltration of Blackwatch years before the end. Mostly on account of rogue elements within his command undertaking missions and actions that he never sanctioned. Yet despite his reports to the UN of his growing concerns, they refused to take it seriously. Because it turned out Talon had also infiltrated the UN. Using Jack’s idealism against him along with Gabriel's suspicious nature, they pulled the wool over everyone's eyes.
With Talon in both Blackwatch and the UN, it proved disturbingly easy to manipulate the former friends against each other. It all culminated on that fateful day of their confrontation at Swiss Headquarters. Seeing a rare opportunity to take out two birds with one stone, Talon-led rogue troops in Blackwatch blew it all to hell as the U.N. idly sat back and watched.
In his new wraith form driven by his rage of the betrayal, Gabriel molded himself into the feared mercenary Reaper. Impressed with his terrifying reputation, it was plenty enough bait to get Talon knocking on his door. It would be the only way he could go deep undercover to find out just how far the conspiracy against Overwatch went. As well as gain access to the list of Overwatch agents to investigate himself.
Meanwhile and also fueled by the betrayal, Jack remodeled himself into Soldier: 76. A crazed vigilante with seemingly no target, it was the complete opposite of the Jack Morrison the world remembered. Much like how murderously chaotic Reaper was in direct contrast to the professional soldiering of Gabriel Reyes. Both men’s presumed deaths made an airtight cover.
It took them nearly a decade and far too many vicious, near-death confrontations to finally hash out that they were still on the same side. Parting ways after that, Jack left the decision up to Gabriel. Not that he blamed him if he chose not join the newly reformed Overwatch. But Jack swore he’d only accept Gabriel as co-commander. Even then, they would both answer to Ana. And with Gabe getting first dibs on the missions she assigned. It was the least Jack felt he could do after the years of discord.
Gabe eventually agreed. Though only if they and Ana immediately started training up the next generation to take over. Because you and I both damn well know that we’re all getting too fucking old for this shit, Jack.
So here you now were. Dressed up in some scandalous-ass lingerie in order to go undercover at a fancy, Talon-sponsored party. Not just any party either. A sex party.
A fucking Dom and Sub sex party at that.
At least it'd gain you access to their server to root out more of them.
“Don’t know why you can’t be the one to come with me,” you rolled your eyes in Gabriel’s direction. “Winston and Angela have you all stabilized now. So it not like you’re going to go up in a puff of smoke at the drop of a hat.”
Gabriel’s low chuckle irritated you. Especially as he suddenly misted to your side. “Maybe because I can’t go cracking a safe like you can, hmm?”
“Where’s Sombra when you need her?” you huffed.
Gabe clucked his tongue in disagreement. “She’ll always be a mercenary. And since this mission is so sensitive, we can’t trust her for this one. You clearly have the skill set for this one.” You were thoroughly used to feel of his slightly colder than normal body-temperature. So you didn’t flinch when he dropped his palms to your shoulders. “Not to mention, I can’t go considering Talon’s pretty damn familiar with me now.”
“And who’s fault is that?” you muttered. “Hey!” you cried out at his light slap to your behind.
“If you’re going to be any good at this sub business,” he smirked against your ear, “You need to learn how to behave.” Pressing his lips to the side of your neck pulled a pleased moan from you. You couldn’t resist tilting your head to grant him better access. Especially as his hands glided down your arms to rest at your waist. Your pleased sigh at the firm press of his chest against your back seemed to urge him on. Especially as one hand dipped lower to rub little circles of comfort along your upper thigh.
As much you had little desire to, you pulled away. “Careful, I can’t have my make-up getting smeared before my mission.” Lightly pecking him on the check, you slipped from his embrace and dropped to sit on the chair in front of the mirror. “I can’t venture out looking crap. It’s bad enough I’ll be wearing this front of Morrison.”
Gabriel’s uncanny gaze met yours in the mirror as you began arranging your hair. Since the aftermath of Swiss Headquarters, it burned flickering red. Like dying embers in a dimly lit fireplace. Yet his smile was free of any sort of malice. “Oh, I think Jack’s gonna love your little ensemble,” he arched a brow.
“Little is precisely the damn problem,” you tugged at the skirt that rode up to your crotch. At the same time, you shot him a confused look reflected in the mirror. “Last I checked, your boyfriend didn’t exactly bat for my team. But thanks for the compliment.”
His burst of laughter caught you off guard, “You have no idea that he-”
His words were interrupted by Athena’s familiar voice from the ceiling. “Good Evening, Commander Reyes,” the program announced, “ Commander Morrison has arrived. He is ten minutes early. Should I let him to know to wait?”
“As always,” Gabriel drawled.
“Will do, Commander.”
“You know that I can do my own hair, right?” you waved him off.
Gabriel shrugged. “Sure. Doesn’t mean I don’t like making him wait.”
“You’re such a little shit,” you grinned. Leaning over, you gave him a quick kiss before shooing him out of the room.
After pulling on the black leather boots that stopped just below the lacy topsof you stockings, you gave yourself one last check the mirror. Your eyes were smudged with dark, smoky eyeshadow. Your red lipstick was stenciled in place and matched your glossy nail polish. Your hair was piled on top of your head in the twisted coils of a complicated top knot. The long pins holding it up hid a tiny signal interrupter, a trio of memory chips and a handful of mini tasers, the tools of your trade.
Letting out a loud huff, you snatched up your coat. “Well, here goes nothing,” you muttered, jerking the door open and wandering into the living room.
Morrison sat on the couch flush against Gabriel. As Gabe hungrily captured his mouth, he ran his fingers along Morrison’s cheek and down his jaw. You couldn’t help your grin. It was good to see the two so affectionate after all these years that nearly destroyed them.
Morrison must have heard you, as he pressed a kiss to Gabriel’s temple before moving to his feet. Great, there he stood in one of the most beautifully cut suits you’d ever seen. It’s expensive, black fabric stretched across his broad shoulders and chest. Hugging his biceps, it clung to his slim waist. His white hair was grown out nearly as long as back during his early Overwatch days. It allowed him to lightly part it to the side. His silk red shirt and black tie perfectly matched his black and red striped handkerchief. Along with the colors of your corset. His gold cufflinks also matched your trim. And the designer gold watch on his wrist.
He looked like a dickish CEO. Albeit, an incredibly attractive, silver fox sort. The exact type who would attend this sort of debauched party.
His bright blue eyes widened and flitted up and down you before coming to rest your face. Probably just dumbfounded at how undressed you were. Nothing more, considering his decisive preference for Gabriel.
“Gabe, please tell don’t me you sent him pics of what I’d be wearing so we’d match,” you groused.
Jack clasped his hands behind his back. “Uh, was I not supposed see it?”
Wait, did he just wink at you?
Gabriel’s shit-eating grin made you want to reach out and strangle him. “Now why in the world would I ever do that?”
Marching up to him, you poked him in the chest. “You are incredibly lucky that bullets now only go through you .”
“Even if they didn’t, I’d still be fine,” he tugged you forward by the hem of your skirt before dropping a kiss to your forehead, “You always were a shitty shot.”
“How the hell do you put up with him?” you addressed Morrison while jerking a thumb at Gabriel.
“With a hell of a lot of patience,” Morrison shot you a fleeting grin as Gabe chuckled and misted to the other side of the room.
Hearing rustling behind you, you turned around to see Gabe present Jack with a small, slick black box wrapped with a red ribbon. “Almost forgot,” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards, “Her costume has to be convincing, after all.”
Jack opened it and let out a muttered curse. Glancing up, he looked between both of you before clearing his throat. “Is this really…necessary, Gabe?”
“What is it?” you narrowed your eyes. Morrison sheepishly holding up the apparent gift, you growled, “Gabriel fucking Reyes, as you kidding me?!” you pointed at the offending item.
“Hey,” he held up his hands in supposed innocence, “Talon picked the Dom and Sub theme. Besides, cariño, it’s always best to commit to your whole design aesthetic , no? "
“Don’t you go cariño- ing me, Gabe-!”
“It'll make the pair of us look more convincing,” Morrison quietly interrupted.
Gritting your teeth, you were about to tell Morrison where he could go shove it. Then again, it wasn’t his fault. He was just along for physically protecting you during the mission. As much you hated to admit it, guns and hand-to-hand combat had never been your specialty. So you needed the backup.
“Fine,” you huffed. Turning your back to Morrison, you sharply waved at him, “Put it on me already.”
Jack gave you a terse nod. At the same time, you silently mouthed, “ Fuck you!” to Gabriel.
“I love you too, dulzura,” he grinned.
You didn’t expect to shiver at the sudden, soft feel of Morrison’s calloused fingers sweeping along the base of your neck. It allowed him to lightly clip the shiny, leather collar around your throat. Its metal ring for the matching leash sat at the front of your neck. Slipping a gentle finger in between the collar and your skin to check the fit, he murmured, “Not too tight?”
“Nope,” you popped the “P” at the end of it.
“Good,” his breath danced along your shoulder blade, “I don’t want you feeling any sort of, uh, discomfort.”
“My ass is barely covered and my tits are damn near about to pop out,” you lightly said, vainly trying to sound casual.
“I...hadn’t noticed,” he huffed.
“Works for me,” you barked out a stained laugh. You hope it covered up the flare warmth that licked up your skin at the gravelly sound of his voice so close. How he pressed a reassuring palm to your bare upper back only heightened it.
Gabe had the gall to clear his throat in front you. Gaze snapping to his, you nearly mouthed another curse at his wink at you. “Athena, isn’t it time to go?” you snapped.
“According to your mission schedule, I suggest now would be the opportune time to depart.”
“Thanks Athena,” you retorted. “That’s our cue,” you scurried towards the door.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck before following you. “Guess we should get outta here then.”
Shadow stepping to the door, Gabe brightly declared, “Enjoy yourselves!”
“Yeah, okay,” you sarcastically replied.
Kissing you on the cheek to avoid smearing your lipstick, he settled for pressing another kiss behind your ear. “This is only your fourth field mission since you've returned to Overwatch,” his voice dropped as a swirl of his black mist enveloped you with a familiar, gentle caress. “So don’t do anything dumb and fucking reckless, like this one,” he tugged a lapel of Jack’s suit, “Promise me, dulzura.”
“I promise, Gabe,” you genuinely replied. An affectionate sweep of your fingers through his messy hair had him letting out sigh of relief before he leaned over to give Morrison a lingering kiss.
You barely paid attention to their exchange of murmured words on account of your usual pre-mission jitters. Still, you couldn't miss the flush that flew to Morrison’s cheeks. Or how Gabriel embraced him in a hug of sweeping black mist before sending him off.
“After you,” Jack said while opening the door.
“Thanks,” you nodded.
The elevator ride up to the roof to the helipad was awkwardly silent. Morrison kept a firm hand on yours to help climb into the helicopter. Probably on account of your heels. Once he programmed in the coordinates, it roared to life before settling into stealth mode. As this was a party hosting all sorts of wealthy sorts, arriving in a helicopter wouldn’t appear out of place.
Hopefully, everything would go to plan. Then again, with your luck, when the hell did that ever happen?