i love your art and style, especially your expressions! and how gabe is always done with the boys' antics.. if u feel like doodling it, a small thing where mcgenji do a nice thing for gabe so he doesn't fuse his palm to his face;;? no worries tho, hope this finds you well!
i thought about this request for so long and couldn’t think about ANYTHING oh my god...... im so bad when it comes to nice things,,,, sorry and thank you for the compliment though!! i’m back and i’ll do my best for the upcoming mcgenji weeeeek o9
hello! if u are still doing fic prompts, how about 'endure' for widowmaker/ sombra or mcgen? if not that's cool, hope u have a nice day! ✌️
Thank you! I have been having pretty good days, haha. And I thought I was kinda out of ideas for now but then Retribution happened and I guess that’s just how it is sometimes.
(Takes place during the end-ish of the Retribution mission. Mcgenji. G.)
There eventually comes a lull between the waves of enemies, and the fighting slows before the Talon reinforcements regroup for another attack. Genji finds himself staggering into the restaurant, trying to keep out of sight from the lingering snipers outside. He distantly hears Moira following after him, then McCree stomping inside with his spurs. Reyes guards the entrance for now, back resting wearily against the doorframe.
A part of Genji wishes the fighting hadn’t slowed. He becomes aware of his injuries, the exhausted drag of his limbs, but Moira seems to be making the best of it, hand splayed out to spill a wave of yellow fog into the air. It helps, but they’re all tired.
For a terrifying moment, his vision swims. Genji sinks down on his heels, one hand gripping the edge of a table. The silverware rattles and chimes with his every breath.
The noise gets everyone’s attention, but Genji ignores them, unclipping his faceplate and letting it drop to the ground. At this point, he doesn’t care much for appearances. He’s admitted so much over the comms already, talking with Reyes and Moira, and even McCree. His mouth falls open, panting and trying to take in air—it never seems like enough.
Moira’s hand hovers above him, thick yellow fog cloying around him. The ache in Genji’s body lessens, but he still feels off, still tired, still unfocused. Everything is too hot.
“What’s wrong with the ninja?” McCree asks.
Moira frowns. Her hand swipes across Genji’s flushed cheek. Genji can barely feel her touch, fingers brushing over his skin like a passing wisp of air. He would have recoiled away, but it’s difficult enough to keep his position still.
“Overheated,” Moira says. “His cybernetics have been running at maximum for too long.”
“Surprisingly relatable,” McCree drawls.
Moira raises an eyebrow. She glances down at her palms, her supply drained through. “His body cannot regulate his temperature when he’s overextended himself. Such a poor design.”
Genji’s shoulders twitch. He can’t help but laugh at the truth. “Hah.”
Moira’s voice continues to swirl above him, distant. “I recall Dr. Ziegler telling you to monitor your temperatures closely, but in this case I think she underestimated the level of exertion for this mission.”
McCree snorts. “I think we all did.”
“My bad,” says Reyes, dry.
There’s more talking between Moira and the commander, too soft for Genji to hear. Genji finally loosens his grip on the table, though he moves to sit down on the floor, arms resting on his knees. He knows he can keep fighting. There isn’t much choice in the matter. Until their pilot comes, Talon will just keep sending more forces after them.
The sound of spurs cuts through his thoughts. Genji can see McCree’s boots approaching, and then he hears the clink of glass and broken wine bottles.
He only has a second to comprehend what happens next—McCree dumping an entire bucket of melted ice over him.
There’s no steam, but Genji can feel a soft, crackling hiss over his cybernetic parts. The cold water only registers as a gentle pressure over his synthetic flesh while the rest cools the heated metal against his burning skin. Genji doesn’t make a sound through the entire thing, all possible words leaving him in shock.
His hair drips in front of his eyes when he looks up at McCree.
“It was either that, or dumping you into one of them canals,” McCree says, holding the now empty champagne bucket. He has the accompanying champagne bottle in his other hand, thumb to the cork.
Genji feels like he could find the energy to kill again this very second.
“That bottle better stay closed, McCree,” Reyes says from the doorway, ruining Genji’s short fantasy of hurling McCree into the canal himself.
McCree rolls his eyes. “Ain’t my kinda shit, boss. Don’t you worry.”
And against all common sense, McCree takes a step closer to Genji, eyeing him warily. When Genji doesn’t move, McCree lowers the champagne bottle, pressing the wide end to the back of Genji’s neck beneath all the wires.
The glass is cold, wet condensation building up to trickle down Genji’s bare shoulder. It’s a touch of relief, so small in comparison to the cybernetics burning into his skin, but Genji finds himself chasing it, closing his eyes and leaning his head towards McCree.
The glass rolls up to his cheek, stopping short at his temple before McCree steps back. Genji opens his eyes, looking up.
McCree wears an odd expression, staring down at Genji with something like confusion or surprise. It’s gone by the time he glances to the side, setting the bottle on the table.
“Next time, you oughta install some vents,” McCree says, reaching for Genji’s fallen faceplate. He holds it out for Genji to take.
At this angle, Genji can see a faint color to McCree’s face, a shade darker at the ears. Genji stares, mind going blank and thoughts retreating before it can form into something he believes might be dangerous. Instead, he takes the faceplate, snapping it into place.
The rest of the world focuses back. Genji can hear gunfire and shouts, the distant thrum of an incoming ship over water. Commander Reyes starts to give cues and positions over the comm again.
McCree holds out his arm. “C’mon, ninja man. Up and at ‘em.”
Genji grabs it. If the cybernetics still burn, McCree doesn’t show it.
“Next time, I will throw you into the canal,” Genji says, and lets McCree pull him back to his feet.
hello! i love love ur writing and esp characterization of ovw folks, ie the way u portray mcgenji and them individually. you treat them like the complex adults who-know-they-are-dangerous but also have hearts in right places they are and its wonderful! for prompt things, does 'saltmine' count as a verb...? if yes, whichever ship strikes u as most appropriate? i thought of mcgen, widowsom, or mercymoira lol. if not it's cool! sry for long ask hope u have a nice day/night!!
Thank you so much. Sorry it took so long. I kinda puzzled over the prompt (not because I didn’t get it, lol). It doesn’t quite fit but I’ve been kinda taken away with the idea. Sorry! But thank you, hahaha.
(Post Recall, established relationship, mcgenji.)
“Usually,” begins Genji, pressing one knee over McCree’s chest, “you last a little longer than this.”
McCree is on his back, sweaty and flushed, still trying to catch his breath. He glares at Genji, crooks an eyebrow, and places one hand flat against the practice mat.
“You tryin’ to imply something here?” he asks, slowly leaning up in increments.
Genji can feel his knee give a little, but he keeps an eye on that hand. He knows McCree wants to test how far Genji will let him up, and Genji is a little tempted to let him do it. Maybe then their sparring match can last a little longer, but after a quick moment of deliberation, Genji’s competitiveness wins out and he lets the rest of his weight push McCree back down, knee still in place.
“Ah, I would never have any complaints about your stamina,” Genji says, smiling behind his faceplate.
He stares a little too long at McCree, not to savor the win (--not to savor the win as much), but because McCree looks good like this, hair messy and damp at the scalp, lips pulled in something that’s half a smirk and half a snarl. McCree is technically at Genji’s mercy, but there’s a calculating gleam in his eye that Genji enjoys provoking.
Sure enough, McCree’s gaze lowers, head turning to the side in a show of demureness. Genji wouldn’t exactly call McCree pretty under most circumstances, but the man has his moments. With a slow exhale, McCree licks his lips, and Genji knows he’s made a mistake the second his eyes drop down to stare at McCree’s mouth.
The hand Genji is supposed to be watching flies towards him. At first, Genji thinks it might be a punch, but McCree’s body surges upwards, knocking him off balance. The fist, he realizes, is only a distraction for McCree to change positions and get Genji into a hold.
There’s a moment of grappling, awkward as McCree tries to find purchase to overpower him. Genji, feeling somewhat vengeful, grabs a fistful of McCree’s serape, yanking the other man close, and slams his forehead to McCree’s face.
Genji hears a crack, and McCree’s hands momentarily loses their grip on him. Unwilling to be tricked twice, Genji pulls out his short blade, pressing McCree back onto the mat, and tucks the edge beneath McCree’s chin.
“Yield.”
McCree still looks dazed, blood running from his nose to his beard. He blinks, brow furrowing in pain when he tries to crinkle his nose. With a rueful sigh, he slumps back. “Alright, alright. You got me.”
Genji rolls off him, grinning, and sheaths the short sword away. He can admit to being smug, especially when McCree sits up, arms outstretched. This time, McCree’s hands are gentle on his shoulders, trying to draw him in. And this time, Genji lets him.
The blood is still bright in McCree’s beard, oozing from his nose and from a cut on his mouth. McCree glances at his ruined shirt, all stained with blood and sweat. He doesn’t seem to upset by the loss and leans close, mouth coming to where Genji’s ear would be.
“Come to the showers with me?”
“No need,” Genji says. The win had been that easy. “I hardly broke a sweat.”
McCree stops. He pulls away, not expecting to be refused, but his gaze is weighty, as if sensing Genji’s self-satisfaction. There’s another calculating gleam in his eye. After a moment, he stands back up, expression lifting into something cheerier, and dusts himself off. Before he leaves the training room, he grins.
“In that case,” McCree says brightly, “I’ll see you later.”
“Oh no. Did you lose?”
Genji pauses in the middle of the hallway. He turns to Mei, whose sympathetic tone causes him to frown. “Lose? No,” he says immediately, despite not quite knowing what Mei is commenting on. His own voice comes out bewildered. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, haha. Never mind!” Mei says, continuing on her way with a wave, impressively done with her arms full of equipment.
Genji moves close to offer his help, but Mei shakes her head, shooing him away.
“No, no, no. I’m fine! Thank you, Genji, but maybe you should take care of yourself first!” she says, even more incomprehensible.
If it had been anyone else but Mei, Genji would have taken her words for an insult. He puzzles this for a while, wondering, but Mei has always been eccentric and often too intelligent for Genji to keep up. Genji has had his fair share of being in the company of scientists. Most of them seem to be off into their own world most of the time.
He brushes it off.
His second encounter involves none other than the mysterious masked soldier, along with Ana at his side. Genji plans to walk by, nodding a greeting to them both, but a touch at his arm stops him. He glances down, wary to find Soldier: 76’s hand at his elbow, though the other man drops it quick.
“You shouldn’t let McCree take advantage of you like that. Don’t get so distracted,” Soldier: 76 advises, and it the kind of advice given from one fighter to another. A professional assessment.
Worst of all, Ana smiles, amused, and her silence is a clear vote of confidence towards Soldier: 76.
Genji is mortified. He thinks about the strange comment Mei had made, and everything almost falls into place. He has no idea how word got out, and he doesn’t think McCree would brag or outright lie about something so small like a sparring match. They’ve fought before, had friendly matches and bets. He stands up straighter, feeling irritated that of all people, Soldier: 76 is passing judgement on him.
“How would you know?” Genji asks. “I didn’t lose.”
Soldier: 76 glances at Ana. Ana glances back at him.
“I’m just sayin’,” Soldier: 76 says, shrugging.
Genji sputters too long to make an actual reply, and by then both Ana and Soldier: 76 have turned the corner.
Genji nearly loses it by the time he finally makes it into the rec room, and Hana glances up from her handheld game with the same stare everyone else has been giving him.
Hana’s expression is surprised, which nettles him somehow. Genji is very aware of who D.Va is—a brilliant mecha pilot and excellent soldier on the field—but the part of Genji that knows Hana Song also happens to be a superstar actress makes him feel a little obligated to be just as cool. Or try to be.
“Is McCree really that good at sparring?” Hana asks. “He never wants to spar with me. Says I’d wipe the floor with him.”
“He didn’t…” Genji says, flabbergasted. “He didn’t win. And how would you know? Is there a recording going around?”
“No recording, no videos,” Hana says, looking up and down at him. She tilts her head, gesturing. “I mean, it’s kinda obvious, yeah?”
Genji is so stunned he takes a step back. He doesn’t know what she means. “I won that match.”
“Oh,” Hana says, sounding so doubtful that Genji is insulted. “Okay.”
“I headbutted him. He surrendered.”
“Yeah?”
“I kicked his ass.”
“I believe you,” Hana says, although Genji suspects she had only said it to get him to stop speaking. Holding a finger up to stall him, she returns to her game for a moment. After a few decisive clicks, she finishes the level and laughs, handheld covering her grin. “What did you do to him to get him so pissed?”
“Kicked his ass,” Genji repeats.
“Pfft. So he’s just a sore loser and you’re just a bad winner, ahjussi.”
“What? Me?”
“Why don’t you go and see him?” Hana says, snorting, and goes back to her game.
Genji kicks the door open to McCree’s room, which only has the effect of activating the motion sensor to the sliding door. He catches McCree in the middle of toweling his hair dry, briefs already on and not much else. Genji has to savor the fact that McCree looks ridiculous, freshly showered and clean and barely dressed.
McCree had jumped a little when Genji entered, but his face immediately splits into grin.
“Too late, already took that shower I offered,” McCree says.
“What did you tell them?” Genji demands. “Everyone’s saying I’ve lost.”
McCree’s grin wavers, a flash of genuine confusion in his eyes before his smile turns crooked. “Tell them? Haven’t been saying anything to anyone. Been showering the whole t—” he stops, realization dawning, and then lets out a short laugh. “Hah! You haven’t seen yet.”
“Seen what?” Genji asks, exasperated enough to let McCree take him by the wrists and drag him towards the bathroom sink. He glances briefly at his reflection in the mirror, glares at McCree, and does a double take by what he sees. “Shit.”
There’s blood all over Genji’s helmet, none of it his, but a couple of incriminating kiss marks make it apparent as to whose it is. At some point, McCree had even left a smudged heart along the side of Genji’s jaw, the red fingerprints making it clear where McCree had touched his face—and, more importantly, where Genji had allowed him to touch his face with either his hands or his mouth.
McCree roars with laughter, his hand coming up to one side of Genji’s helmet to marvel at it. “Didn’t think you’d be walking around base for so long. No wonder you took your time coming here.”
Genji slaps his hand away, earning him another playful grin. “But how does that imply that I’ve lost? Clearly,” he announces, stepping closer into McCree’s space and pointing to one of the lip stains, “this means I won.”
“Well, more like we both won,” McCree allows.
“You, perhaps, in spirit.” Genji huffs, taking off his faceplate to get a better look. The offer of a shower after beating McCree makes more sense now, and it annoys Genji that he can’t decide if a little petty act of revenge makes him annoyed or more fond. He scratches at the dried blood, letting it flake away. “The next time we spar, you better watch out.”
McCree takes his threat, and plants another kiss to Genji’s cheek, this time on his skin instead of metal.
“Win or lose, sure will be looking forward to it.”
@dat-shimada-boi said: why,,,,,,,, does jack,,,,,,,,, carry fake cockroaches in his pocke ts is h e ok
In case an opportunity arises to punk his coworkers, mostly, I think. For months and months it was googly eyes, by they started to catch on that it was him putting them up everywhere, lol.
@retaliatesfirst answered: not a hypermobility type; u mentiond your mouse hand, it could be more related to carpal tunnel? or rep. motion injury? i’m not all sure how CT works, i know i’ve got it and i exacerbate it w too much OW/pc/mouse gaming or drawing too long lol;;
Thank you for the comment, I appreciate the thought. :D The hypermobility really complicates everything, anything that affects normal human tendons/ligaments/collagen affects me differently. I had something like carpal tunnel from a repetitive sports injury in high school -- tendonitis shoulder blade to palm, straight through my whole right arm -- and these days I definitely get increased dislocation and spasm problems from playing computer games too much lol. I think today’s wackiness is because I was using the mouse at a strange angle that put that part of my hand more in contact with the mousepad, so the soft tissues are all pissed off now. On my left (non-mouse) hand, I only get a little bit of movement of those bones and no pain, on my right they’re noticeably looser and causing some pain. Probably means I should step away from the computer, sigh. It won’t be an ongoing thing tho -- if I can brace it well enough (and I think I have now, maybe) it’ll probably heal up in the next couple of days, and then I’ll reinjure it with more dumb mouse work, around and around we go, with ace bandages and medical tape to keep things from flying apart like tinkertoys, hehe. Thanks again for the note. ;)
